Three years later...

“Jongin…?”

Pause.

“Jongin.”

Pause.

“Jongin!”

“What?” Jongin groaned, his voice was thick with sleep and hoarse from falling asleep across the dusty laboratory’s tables for yet another night.

“It’s almost ten o’clock!” The crack in that high-pitched voice was the sound of desperation spilling between kittenish lips.

A third year student, by the name of Kim Jongdae, stood over Jongin with wild eyes, mussed hair and shaking hands. He was panting heavily, chest heaving with each inhale of breath and his face was red as if he’d just run a marathon, or at least across campus. The boy reached with an unsteady hand and threaded his fingers through his hair, tangling strands of his locks so that they ended up sticking out in random directions. Jongin sighed and looked down at his pocketwatch to see the time staring back at him. Certainly, it was almost ten o’clock in the morning.

“What’s the trouble?” Jongin yawned as he scratched at the side of his face and felt stubble, which led him to question the last time he had shaved.

“Don’t you know today’s date?!” Jongdae exclaimed and Jongin shook his head, he honestly had no idea. “It’s the fifth of April!”

Jongin nearly toppled out of his chair, “Can’t be.”

“Check the calendar if you must,” Jongdae muttered, “A week and then we have to present this bloody-” he paused as he gestured animatedly towards the heap of metal and cogs sitting on the workbench while trying to think of a word that would suffice to call their project, “This bloody… Contraption.”

Jongin wondered if that, three years ago, he would have had the same bewildered expression on his face while shaking a sleeping Wu Yifan a week before the showcase. He wondered if Yifan would have smiled sleepily at him and laughed before telling him to relax. There was a lot that Jongin wondered about his first year at the Academy if only things had been different.

But, they were not and Jongin was a senior student now in the robotics department. Professor Zhang was still head of the department and Kim Junmyeon was still the headmaster of the school and the only real significant change that had happened since his first year was that he'd gotten older and about ready to graduate. Even then, it seemed as though nothing about the world had changed, and yet, somehow, everything had.

There was an impending war brooding in the distance - it was all the rage at local newsstands and it was nearly impossible to go into town without a newsboy shouting the headline of the rising power struggles at you. A penny for a print, read all about it, government to start army initiative, penny for a print! Jongin had spent many a penny on the printed word and would always come to the same conclusion every time he read the articles. War was imminent. And so, therefore, was fear and, ultimately, death.

Aside from these great stirrings in the country and the rising tensions, most of the world stayed the same. What Jongin meant by this when he had thought these thoughts, was that the world was the same, because no new real technologies had been produced. None that had shaken the world to it’s core, anyway. Definitely none as great as the plans that Yifan had created and desired so much to use and to make the world a better place.

That did not rule out, entirely, the inventions that had been successful. That list of machinery was much smaller than what the Academy would have liked it to be, but it was a list nonetheless and their students were making names for themselves, albeit only in the academic and scholarly spheres. The point was that the world was changing, but not in the way it should be changing. It was too slow, too boring, too obvious.

Predictability seemed to be in the nature of the students at the Academy. Perhaps that was why Kim Jongin tried so hard to be unpredictable. At first, his creations had been entirely unpredictable. Unpredictable in the sense that he was never sure if it would work or not nor if it might, potentially, explode. They were unpredictable in thought too, most professors allowed him that much leeway after his first, second and third smaller inventions had blown up. It was the fourth one that made the council question Jongin’s integrity.

Jongin had always found some way to rebound from those tiny errors and would always come back with a bigger and better scheme - one that always gained Yixing’s seal of approval before being submitted to the council for review. Again and again, Jongin’s mind continuously impressed the members on the board and again and again, Jongin’s experiments continued to cause small incidents. Thus, the predictability that Jongin had tried to avoid became his own state of predictability. It was always easy for the students to predict when one of his inventions would malfunction once more, because it was every single time.

The problem that Jongin faced most, was that there was not enough technology created yet in science for him to prove his theories or even get an invention half started. The further he progressed in school, the more ‘wild’ (as quoted by a member of the council) ideas he had. And yet those wild ideas were always proven on paper with the crunching of numbers and the calculations - everything always appeared perfectly in scribbled graphite upon pale parchment. The issue with experimentation was that not everything was as black and white as a few mathematical equations, no matter how well those equations worked out in his favour.

Claims that science was not ready for his forward way of thinking seemed to be Jongin’s only saving grace as he reached his senior year. As hard as he worked and as simple as it was for him to produce theory after theory and code after code, it appeared almost futile. Jongin’s attempts were starting to grow weary on the council and he was on the verge of a potential expulsion, which was certainly not something that Jongin had planned.

As a thinker, Jongin was one to create the codes and tools necessary to be inputted into a piece of machinery. Physically building that machinery was a tad bit harder for himself. He knew the basics like the back of his hand and he was quite good at what he did when it came to the fabrication room behind his laboratory. However, without Yifan’s original schematics, his plans and inventions often failed, because they were far too advanced. Jongin was one to think outside of the box while Yifan had been the one to build outside of the box. Essentially, he was convinced that he just needed another good builder like Yifan.

He was mostly right. In Jongin’s senior year, he was due to take on an apprentice. The words that Yifan had written so clearly for Jongin still played over and over again in his head. He needed someone as ambitious as Yifan had been, this thought was what led him to Kim Jongdae. Jongdae had enrolled in the robotics department, because he had heard about Kim Jongin who had plans to change the world. Jongdae was a master builder, someone who could start and complete an entire project in one day that would normally take others weeks, if not months, to complete.

Jongdae easily slipped into a routine with Jongin after he had met him. The younger followed the elder around practically on his heels, acting as a second shadow for Jongin. Jongin had grown to enjoy the company and allowed Jongdae to pinky swear himself into a pact so that in Jongin’s senior year, he had to pick Jongdae as his apprentice. Jongin had no complaints about this fact and so the two became inseparable, working together and studying together until Jongin submitted his application for Jongdae to become his pupil.

Months of hard work in Jongin’s senior year had led up to this point, the point at which there was a week until he was to present the project. The heap of metal sat on the workbench and Jongin spent most of his days staring at it and wondering how Yifan had managed to fabricate their prototype, let alone the actual robot. Jongdae was every inch as good a builder as Yifan, but the problem that he often faced was that he had no clues to help him try and piece together the schematics that Yifan had been able to create. Half of the project was missing with Yifan and those notes that had been stolen from Jongin all those years ago.

Time was running out and Jongin knew that he had to have something created in time, otherwise, his graduation would never happen and he would be forced to leave the academy without job offers from high level companies simply because he would never be awarded that stupid pin that said he was a graduate. How he loathed the idea that a small, metal pin could change his life either for better or for worse. The fact that depending on the metal used in the pin could also determine a person’s worth was maddening. Jongin knew of far too many students who were geniuses and had graduated with only a copper gear pin instead of the golden ones that were given out to what the council considered to be ‘the best of the best.’

Jongin was determined more than ever when he had first registered for this school’s programs to be the first robotics department student to graduate with a golden gear. However, as the presentation day closed in on him, he felt more and more helpless. All Jongdae could do was sit by and watch as Jongin fell further into an empty void of the master he had once been.

“Hyung,” Jongdae begged, “You have to do something. Anything really will do! You can change your project, I’m sure. You have plenty of ideas in that head of yours, can’t we do something else?”

Jongin shrugged, “It has to be this, Jongdae, otherwise, why have I been here all this time?”

Days seemed to only tick by faster from that point onwards. Both Jongdae and Jongin struggled endlessly with their machine until eventually they had built a small prototype, not even as tall as a standard ruler, but it was enough. It was more than enough. Even without the programming or the fancy outer decoration that had been drawn in Yifan’s sketchbook, the android was a perfect model and Jongin hoped that it would be enough to at least let him graduate.

Grease streaked across Jongin’s forehead and arms as he picked up the small mechanical android and proudly placed it down on his presentation bench. Jongdae nervously waited outside of the judging room, pacing and biting his nails as he did so - a habit he would never be able to break as an apprentice under Jongin. Other apprentices and senior students sat around the hall with boxes and boards and other various projects that made Jongdae wonder how they ever got accepted into such a school if their mind could only think so small. At this point, he realized, smaller might have been a safer bet.

The head professors all sat before Jongin at a long table across the intimidatingly large room, each head of the department wore their insignias and their special robes for the occasion. It only made Jongin feel half as nervous as he probably should feel and only a tiny few droplets of sweat dripped their way down his back as he fixed the model on the table so it stood upright. The professors eyed Jongin suspiciously, most of them probably considering leaving the room until the presentation was over, in light of the kind of reputation that Jongin’s physical inventions often had. Jongin was in like mind with them.

Yixing sat among the professors rather proudly as Jongin introduced his invention as the first step in a changing future. Jongin gave a quick smile towards Yixing who nodded in return as he started his presentation. Years had led up to this point and everything about Jongin’s career rested on this one display of labor, passion and intellect. He hoped that it would be enough.

In a single person’s life there could be many occurrences that change everything forever - these instances are called turning points. When Jongin opened his mouth to start the speech he had practiced for hours last night in front of Jongdae (who later that night had fallen asleep and left Jongin to practice in the mirror), the most unexpected occurred. This moment would always mark a turning point in Jongin’s life, a point of no return, a point that felt like a sinkhole that might open and swallow him up. Almost like a blemish that would never go away.

The door to the conference room burst open, outside there stood a frantic receptionist and a few curious students, including Jongdae. The woman was stumbling over her words as she tried to explain her predicament and the reason she was most pale in complexion. Very few coherent words escaped her lips, but it was not hard for the board of professors to piece together what she was saying.

Explosion. Robotics department. Laboratory.

When Yifan died, Jongin was hurt. He fell into a numbness that shocked even Professor Zhang who had taken a considerable amount of time that following summer to try and bring back the old, smiling dreamer that was Kim Jongin. When Jongin finally smiled again, after the numbness had subsided and the pain didn’t hurt as bad, he promised himself to never feel that way anymore.

Jongdae was always there to make sure that he was happy, the kid was a bit of a troublemaker and it was often fun to hear his stories or listen to his jokes. He was witty and had humorous expressions that often sent Jongin into fits of laughter. Professor Zhang was there too, to make sure that Jongin was alright. He always brought the two boys tea, made sure to do daily checks on them and take care of them as best as he could. They were his students and though he tried not to show favouritism towards the two, it was almost too obvious - though his students will admit that he treated everyone fairly and they had no qualms with him.

Numbness was not something he wanted to feel, not again, and yet here he was. Standing before the council of the Academy, Jongin felt small - smaller than he had, even, on the first day he had attended a conference in the exact same room. He remembered the anxious anticipation vibrating through his body due to the absolute excitement of such an opportunity. This time, he stood with an itching nervousness, because he knew what was about to come of him, but he he wanted to ignore the truth for a little while longer. He held onto the idea that this would just be another meeting where they gave him a warning. It was different, though, because he knew how much he had screwed up.

“Kim Jongin,” Junmyeon, ever the headmaster, addressed him, “The council and I have been in session nearly all day today and we have talked a great deal about you. I will not beat around the bush, as you know why you are here before us, Jongin. You have a bright mind in that head of yours, but it has come to our attention that, more often than not, your inventions fail you and have caused numerous damages to Academy property. Is this correct?”

Jongin shuffled from one foot to the other, “Yes, Sir.”

“This recent incident,” Junmyeon paused and looked to Yixing from the corner of his eye briefly, but Yixing paid him no attention, “It has caused a significant amount of destruction to our robotics department. The explosion of one of your products has completely obliterated the laboratory, your own workspace, and nearly half of the building caught fire. This is going to cost the Academy quite a large sum to repair. We do not, of course, expect for you to pay for those repairs, do not worry about that, but there will be consequences and they will be given where due.”

“Perhaps we’re being too harsh,” Yixing offered weakly before Junmyeon shot him a glare to stop talking.

Junmyeon rapped his knuckles against the tabletop before folding his arms across his chest, “It is impossible for us to keep up with the costs of your failures and so it is my duty, Kim Jongin,  to inform you that you will be dropped from the Academy.”

Numb. That was how Jongin felt the day of Yifan’s funeral. And that was how Jongin felt on the day he was expelled from the Academy.

It was a different kind of numbness, Jongin couldn’t explain it. The first time he had felt numbness, he was suppressing a form of depression and the ache of loss. This second time he was feeling numbness, it was because he did not know how to feel at all. He was not sad, which surprised him, and he was not angry, because he had no reasons to be angry at anyone, but himself. Even then, he felt no anger. However, he wasn’t exactly happy either.

Instead, Jongin was indifferent. There was nothing he could do to save himself now and it was all said and done, so what could he feel other than nothingness? These were the thoughts that tumbled inside of his head as he slumped away from the meeting, ignoring Professor Zhang who called out his name and the looks that he received from the council members, the receptionist and fellow students alike. He simply walked and walked and walked until he stopped in front of blackness. The remains of his laboratory, charred and crumbling upon the ground in a heap of ash. Not only was Yifan’s life work missing, now, Jongin’s was too.

“Expelled?!” Jongdae yelled in exasperation, “They wouldn’t!”

“They did,” Jongin said groggily, he had not slept a wink since the meeting yesterday.

“How could they?!” Jongdae furrowed his eyebrows in a fury, “I’ll give them a piece of my mind!” he exclaimed and grabbed at the door handle.

Jongin reached for Jongdae’s wrist and let out a sigh, “We know well exactly where that will get you, Jongdae, you and that mouth of yours. Perhaps it is best if you keep your mind in tact, hm?” he said in a small attempt at humour.

Jongdae sighed and cracked a small, sad smile, “You’re not wrong, Jongin-hyung, you’re not wrong at all.” There was a pause before Jongdae cleared his throat, “What will you do now?”

Jongin shrugged and let go of Jongdae’s wrist, “Go home, I guess.”

“I don’t want you to go.” Jongdae admitted, “Hyung, I don’t want to see you go.”

“My hometown is only a two day’s train ride away,” Jongin smiled pathetically, “You could come by for a visit on a long weekend or during a holiday. Just send me a telegram first.”

Jongdae sighed, “I suppose I could always do that…” he looked from his fidgeting hands to Jongin, “You’ll always be my mentor, hyung.”

“Please, Jongdae,” Jongin mused as he pulled the younger in for a hug, “You know I’ll always be much more than that in your heart.” he teased.

Jongdae snorted and gripped onto Jongin, unwilling to let go, “Yeah, yeah.” he mock scoffed, “And I’ll always be your favourite, cheeky pupil.”

Jongin chuckled softly, “Honestly, Jongdae, you’ll always be a little brother to me.”

Jongdae choked, “Hyung,” he whined, “Still so mushy.”

Packing to leave the Academy had proved to be a lot more difficult for Jongin than he had expected. Not that there was much left to pack, what with the fire having destroyed most of his work in the laboratory and taking with it a good deal of his belongings. What was difficult was his unwillingness to pack. Leaving was easier said than done and he wondered briefly if it would have been easier had he graduated or just as hard as he found it to be now.

By the end of all of his packing, Jongin had left with him a large suitcase and an old, worn canvas bag that had been Yifan’s at some point. He doesn’t quite remember when he had come into possession of it, perhaps it was sometime around his birthday when Yifan had left it at his desk in the laboratory. No words were exchanged other than a small ‘happy birthday’ from the elder who worked tirelessly on his schematics and a soft ‘thank you’ that Jongin had uttered as he admired the brown of the leather straps and the brass of the buckles that had begun to turn.

He remembered the first time he had admired that bag. Yifan had it slung over his shoulder, old and tattered too when he used it. Jongin liked the way the bag looked and how sturdy and reliable it seemed to be. He made a comment or two about the bag when he first saw it and Yifan must have remembered the way that Jongin voiced his desire for one similar. Yifan was anything but rich and to give away one of his own items that Jongin adored so much just to make him happy on his birthday, Jongin came to realize, was just one of the many ways that Yifan had subtly showed his love.

Sometimes memories such as that one would resurface and bring Jongin to happy tears, though his heart felt like shattering into a million pieces. Small fragments of time that always seemed to bubble up in his brain at the most inconvenient of times, such as this one, which always distracted him. No matter how hard he tried, Yifan would always be on Jongin’s mind, wounds still fresh and far from ever truly healing. Losing Yifan had taken a toll on him and though he tried to forget the young man, it seemed impossible.

“Jongin!”

Jongin shook loose from his thoughts, “Jongdae?” he croaked, voice scratchy with sleep.

“It’s nearly six in the morning, what are you doing still awake?” Jongdae asked worriedly, “You do have a train to catch in a few hours, correct?”

Jongin cleared his throat and nodded, tucking the last of his things spread out on his dorm room bed into Yifan’s old bag. He sighed then and turned to look at Jongdae who frowned in response.

“You can’t stop thinking about him, can you?” Jongdae asked tugging at the handle of Jongin’s suitcase - the same one that Jongin had arrived with three years ago.

“Hard not to.” Jongin hummed and then forced a fake laugh, “I can’t believe I’m leaving.”

Jongdae chewed his upper lip as his eyes welled with tears that threatened to fall, “Me either, hyung.” he whispered, voice cracking slightly on the last syllable.

A careful hand threaded through Jongdae’s curly brown hair and ruffled the strands before falling to his shoulder and squeezing gently. Jongdae choked on a silent sob and let a few tears roll down his cheeks as he stepped in time with Jongin towards the exit of the facility. It wasn’t until Jongdae wrapped his free hand around his own that he realized he was crying too.

Unlike the time that Jongin had arrived at the Academy, there was no large crowd to off their farewells. Jongin recalled the way that students and faculty had surrounded him, asking for autographs, to shake his hand or to talk to him about his future plans. He wondered where all those people were now - most likely in class. That had all been from a time long before the now, before Jongin had chosen to become a part of the robotics department.

The two friends reached the coach that awaited Jongin, the Academy had graciously called for one when they discovered that Jongin was finally leaving the campus. Jongdae had been furious about that and Jongin had to help calm him down, by telling awful jokes that more often than not fell flat. So flat, in fact, that Jongdae couldn’t help himself but to laugh at the absurdity of what Jongin considered a joke. It never failed to lighten the younger’s mood. However, at this time as the coachman took Jongin’s case and piled it aboard the carriage, nothing could make Jongdae smile.

In the moment before Jongin stepped into the carriage, Jongdae enveloped him into a hug that made Jongin wheeze. Jongdae snorted and squeezed his middle harder for good measure before the two heard a familiar voice. Professor Zhang stood there next to them, his presence only becoming known when he spoke. His voice broke through the silence and startled the two who looked at the man in a mild bout of shock.

“Jongin,” Professor Zhang began, but words seemed to fail him and he his lips a few times before he sighed, “I’m so sorry, Jongin. I’m so sorry that there was nothing I could do. I wish to tell you everything, but I don’t have the time now.” he said rushed, in a quiet voice, “I can’t explain everything that has happened, but I have secrets that I’ve been keeping from you and one day,” he sighed, “One day I will finally tell you all that you need to know, but not now. Not when they might be watching.”

“They?” Jongin asked a little too loudly for Professor Zhang’s liking.

“Hush,” He whispered harshly and then he squeezed the shoulders of Jongin and Jongdae with each of his hands, “Listen to me, Jongin, there are things that have been happening at this Academy behind closed doors. Inexplicable things, dangerous things. Things that I could be fired for, things that you could be expelled for-”

“But, Professor, I am expelled.” Jongin said confusedly and looked to Jongdae for help who only shrugged.

Professor Zhang nodded, “Precisely, Jongin, precisely.” he muttered and from the corner of his eye, he could see the suspicious look in the face of the coachman. He cleared his throat then straightened himself and his jacket, “You best be going now then, Jongin.”

“Yes, Professor.” Jongin replied apprehensively and Jongdae merely shrugged again as Jongin looked to him.

Professor Zhang urged him forward, “Hurry along now.”

“I’ll come visit you,” Jongdae said as Jongin climbed aboard the carriage, “I’ll telegram you first of course. MI’ll see you during holidays, all of them, hyung.”

Jongin smiled weakly and nodded, “I hope to hear from you soon. Good bye, Jongdae. Good bye Professor Zhang.”

“Yes, good bye, Jongin.” Professor Zhang said with a sad sigh, “Best of luck in your future endeavours.”

Jongin nodded his head slightly, “Thank you, Sir.”

Professor Zhang nodded in turn, “My pleasure, Jongin. It has been an absolute pleasure.”

With that, the carriage began its slow travel from the Academy to the train station where Jongin would board and spend two days wondering of what his future might hold for him. Jongdae stood in the same spot for a few moments until the carriage had fully disappeared around the bend. Professor Zhang rested his hand upon the boy’s shoulder once more and Jongdae looked up at him quizzically.

“Professor?”

“We have a lot of work ahead of ourselves. Are you prepared?”

Jongdae his dry lips, looked back towards the bend half expecting to see Jongin standing there before he looked back at the professor, “Yes, Sir.”

The train station was exceptionally dull when Jongin arrived at early morning. A greyish smog covered the sky and made everything appear so much more drab than the campus at the Academy. Through the bleak air, Jongin could barely make out the clocktower in the distance as it stood at the center of the campus.

He sighed and in the cold of early zero eight hundred hours, Jongin’s breath formed in the air before slowly disappearing. The temperatures were always so low in the mornings despite the mid-spring weather and it meant that though the sun would be appearing from behind the whiteness of the sky at some point during the day, scarves and gloves were a must. Jongin pulled the thick wool fabric of his scarf over his mouth and nose in his attempt to keep part of his face warm as he leaned back on the wooden bench on the train station platform.

All was quiet at this time. A few birds chirped here and there overhead as they passed by. A forlorn Jongin watched them with tired eyes before pulling his knees up to his chest and letting his head rest on top of them. It was about this time that another figure stepped onto the platform in a large woolen overcoat that covered most of his face with it’s collar pulled up.

Standing at a very small height, though still very rigid and authoritative, a man pulled the collar of his jacket closer to his face and adjusted his scarf just so, so that only his eyes were visible. He tipped the brown hat that he wore down over his forehead, shadowing his eyes so that even though they were all that anyone could see, it was still hard to distinguish exactly who this man was. And that was how this man liked it.

The man paced upon the platform a few times, perhaps in the hopes of gaining Jongin’s attention, but the boy’s focus was elsewhere as he stared at the ground and the train puffing in the distance. The man had had enough of that and gave up on his pacing, taking a more direct approach at the boy this time. He cleared his throat as he lingered at the side of the bench and Jongin, startled, looked to the man in surprise.

“Can I help you, Sir?” Jongin asked slowly after a minute of silence.

The man rubbed his gloved hands together - Jongin noted the fancy black leather and the quality of the material, this man was rich - and cleared his throat once more, “You attend the Academy, do you not?”

Jongin blinked a few times in bewilderment, wondering how it would be possible for a stranger to know such a thing, “Pardon, Sir?”

“You wear the crest.” The man gestured to the jacket that Jongin slung over his shoulders, “You attend the Academy?” He asked and his voice was muffled behind the thick material of the scarf he wore.

“I do,” Jongin said then he sighed, “Or, rather, I did.”

“Ah,” the stranger hummed, “I know you now. It was in the newspaper. You’re the one who was in the robotics department, correct?”

Jongin was surprised to hear that this story had made local news. He was surprised mostly at how quickly this story had been able to go to print. No longer would Jongin be recognized for his intellect, he had come to realize, but now he would be known as the boy who blew up a portion of the school. A screw up. A problem. Jongin frowned and internally scolded himself for believing that he could make a difference. The only difference he had been capable of making was the headlines of the newspaper and even then, it was not exactly a pleasant thing to be remembered for.

“I was in the robotics department, yes.” Jongin said through his teeth in an attempt to hold back the bite he felt against himself and the Academic Council.

The man made a sound similar to that of a laugh behind his scarf before he reached inside of his pocket and pulled out a small printed card. He handed the thick paper to Jongin who looked at it curiously before accepting it. He figured maybe he would find some information about the man on this paper so he would at least know who it was that he was talking to. Alas, the card was blank save the word ‘The Creator.’

“What do you create?” Jongin asked as he turned the card over, “If you’re the creator?”

“Inventions, I guess I’m an inventor.” The man replied, looking up at the sky, “My inventions are my creations and therefore I am the creator. A creator of the future development of the world.”

Jongin raised an eyebrow and shrugged, “That’s what I wanted to be.”

“Indeed,” The man spoke, “The Academy did not see things your way, I take it?”

Jongin shook his head, “Not exactly. Not at all… What can I do for you then, Sir... Creator?”

The Creator laughed muffled again, a little louder this time behind his scarf. The sun was just beginning to poke out from the clouds and Jongin was becoming too warm with his jacket on. The man sat next to him, unmoving to remove a jacket or layer from himself despite the weather growing warmer.

“How would you like to take on a small sort of project for me?” The Creator asked and Jongin shrugged.

“Okay?” He offered as a response and the man’s eyes crinkled in the shadows to indicate a smile.

“I will pay you a decent sum if you can repair one of my inventions. You see, I have far too much on my hands to be taking care of this problem that I’ve run into and my other projects as well. I’m a very busy man and I need someone like you, someone who created the basic coding of potential A.I. to assist me. If you can make my invention work, make it come to life properly by fixing the broken parts, then I will see if I can give you a recommendation to get you back into the Academy.”

Jongin thought about this for a moment then chuckled a little hysterically, “Who are you really, Sir? Is this some joke to you?”

The Creator shook his head, “I promise you, this is no joke. I’ve been following your projects for a long time now, Mister Kim, and I see great potential in you. However, you can’t get a job without the Academy’s approval in your field and so I can only assume that you’re desperate, Jongin. You’re desperate to get back into the Academy and graduate from the robotics department. You need me and I need you. What do you say? Do we have a deal?”

The student looked up at the man curiously, doubt in his mind, but at this point, he had nothing else to lose, “It’s a deal, Sir.”

They shook hands then, and the leather felt soft against Jongin’s fingers. A deal had been made near the crossroads of the train station and if Jongin were any bit superstitious, he would have never accepted. He gave the man the address of where he intended to stay and the man told him that the invention would be at this location for when he arrived.

Jongin thought that to be rather odd considering that it would take him two days to get home therefore it seemed impossible that the invention would arrive even before he had. The man assured him, however, that it would be there and awaiting his arrival along with a set of explicit instructions that were to be followed exactly. Jongin merely nodded and waved the stranger off as he disappeared from the platform.

As the train pulled up to the station, Jongin wondered what exactly would be waiting for him back home…

Jongin spent his two days on the train in his cabin, reading one of the many books that Yifan had lent him and the book that Jongdae had given him as a gift one year for Christmas. He found comfort in the pages and the printed font as he turned leaf after leaf of the books. However, he soon lost interest in them as his mind wandered and his eyes drifted from metaphysics to the passing scenery beyond the window.

The views that passed by his eyes were slowly becoming more and more recognizable as Jongin entered his hometown. And after one sharp turn in a dark tunnel, the full valley from which he came became fully visible to him. Of the first things he saw that truly brought him back to his home was the clock tower that stood near the centre of the village. It was a monument that meant home to all who lived in that valley and to Jongin it was the ultimate signifier that he was no longer in the capital, no longer attending the Academy and no longer chasing after his dream. Instead, he was returning home with nothing to show for his work.

Jongin huffed out a sigh as he closed his books and packed them into his baggage. The locomotive pulled up to the station and the squealing of the wheels on the tracks pierced the ears of the passengers. When the train came to a halt, Jongin was among the first passengers to step onto the train station platform with all intent of heading straight to the Park Inn where he knew Chanyeol was expecting his return.

Of all the places that Jongin was starting to realize that he missed, the Park Inn was certainly the one. With a new fresh coat of paint on the old hanging wooden sign above the door, there was not much about the place that had changed. The place that Jongin called home was now starting to feel more comforting than Jongin thought that it might and suddenly he was longing to get inside and into his old room with his old friends.

A little bell rung as Jongin pushed open the door to the inn and behind the counter he spotted a familiar tall frame with his back to the door. The figure turned around and smiled warmly as if ready to greet a customer, but when he noticed who the man was in the door, he jumped the counter so fast that Jongin barely had the time to process what was happening. It was Chanyeol who had embraced him so quickly that Jongin was nearly knocked off of his feet.

“I haven’t seen you in years.” Chanyeol gasped loudly as he squished Jongin against his chest, “I almost didn’t recognize you, Jongin!”

Jongin chuckled and, for the first time in days, it was a genuine laugh, “Have you gotten taller?”

Chanyeol snorted and squeezed Jongin tighter nearly crushing the smaller, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Jongin coughed, “Please let me go.”

“Oh!” Chanyeol laughed and let go of Jongin, but moved his grip to Chanyeol’s shoulders, “You look so much older.”

“A lot has happened,” Jongin offered as an excuse to the bags under his eyes that surely Chanyeol noticed as opposed to the fresh faced boy that Jongin used to be, “And you have definitely gotten taller.”

“I may have,” Chanyeol laughed and let go of Jongin as another presence entered the lobby of the inn.

There stood in the doorway to the back entrance of the Park home was a boy that looked partially familiar to Jongin. The boy he remember was much shorter than this one, but still with the pale skin and wide, wide eyes that always stared in awe. These eyes were still so very bright and round, but instead of awe, they watched Jongin in surprise as if he had not been expecting to see Jongin on this day.

“Who-” Jongin began to ask, but he already knew the answer before he even finished his sentence.

“Jongin,” the boy whispered, “Jongin-hyung, is that you?”

“Kyungsoo?” Jongin asked and the boy nodded, “You’ve grown up.” he noted, his cheeks flushing a pale pink at the sight of the handsome young man that was before him now.

Kyungsoo swallowed hard, “Jongin-hyung, I’ve missed you.” he choked and his face turned red.

A moment of silence passed before Chanyeol cleared his throat and Jongin and Kyungsoo both tore their gazes away from each other to look at the tallest. Chanyeol grinned and slung an arm over Jongin’s shoulder.

“As much as I’d love to catch up with you right now, let’s get you settled in first, hm?” Chanyeol asked Jongin and Jongin nodded slowly in agreement,  “Kyungsoo, do you mind starting a supper for our long lost friend?”

Kyungsoo nodded eagerly, “Of course, Chanyeol-hyung. I’ll make your favourite, Jongin-hyung, you still like kimchi, right?”

Jongin laughed and nodded, “Of course I do.”

Kyungsoo giggled and the sound made Jongin smile as a familiar warmth welcomed him. Truly, this was his home no matter how much had changed. Chanyeol still cared for him as if they were brothers, as if so much time apart could not possibly changed how much they care for each other. And dear, small Kyungsoo. He had grown, but Kyungsoo still remembered Jongin and the small details about him to make him feel like he belonged and if there was anything that Jongin craved now was some place to belong once again.

“Something arrived for you,” Chanyeol spoke as he stepped behind his counter again, a bit of a mess left on the floor from the papers he had knocked over in his process of leaping over the top, “I almost forgot to mention. Two men brought it in and it should be in your old room.”

“Oh,” Jongin blinked a few times and nodded, “Yes,  I forgot to mention that a package would be arriving for me.”

“It’s a big one.” Chanyeol hummed and then eyed Jongin suspiciously, “What exactly is inside of it?”

Jongin shrugged, “Oh, just one of my projects from the Academy.” he lied so easily, “I couldn’t leave it behind.”

“Ah,” Chanyeol nodded and Jongin felt a pang of guilt for lying to his best friend and brother like this, “Well, I’d say you should take an hour of rest before coming back down. We can catch up all we like then.”

“Thank you for your hospitality, Chanyeol.” Jongin smiled and bowed.

“Anything for you, Jongin, you know you’re part of my family.” Chanyeol grinned and pointed to the stairs, “Your room awaits.”

Upon entering his old room, Jongin came into contact with the large crate that stood up against the far wall with labels stuck to it and a large red stamp that unmistakably read ‘Caution.’ Jongin looked over his shoulder feeling a tad apprehensive about the package and wondering whether or not he should have taken this deal. He gulped and set down his bag, gently ripping the parchment letter from the side that read ‘From: The Creator.’

Jongin turned the paper over and there was nothing else written on it, though he should have expected that from the way that the man’s business card was printed. The package, this invention, the crate that had arrived - it held Jongin’s possible future. He took a gulp and gently tapped the wood with his fingers before finding the latch near the top of the box.

The minute that Jongin opened this box, he figured that there would be no return from this promise. Once the seal was broken, that was it. He took a deep breath, gently lifting the hook and feeling as if the whole world had come to a standstill. The front board fell forward and landed with a dull thud against the wood of the floor. From the box fell crumpled newspapers that must have been used to protect the invention inside and once it was cleared from the invention, Jongin’s jaw dropped.

For inside the box was no invention, but a person.

A person with porcelain skin, silky blonde hair and a pair of sweet, pink lips that looked far too real to be a creation.

“What the hell…?” Jongin muttered, observing the person or thing from up close, “It’s not possible…” he whispered, “Is this… An android?”

Wow, I am so sorry that this is so, so very late. And Sehun still really hasn't even appeared yet. I'm so sorry everyone, but hopefully I will have more time to write this fic as it is finally my summer vacation. Also, quick question: Would you prefer quicker, but shorter updates? Or longer updates that will take more time to write? I hope that you guys don't grow bored of this fic! I promise Sehun will actually have a part in the next chapter. Thank you all for subscribing though, I really appreciate the support.
xo, TadaChi