(12)

                  “You look positively… radiant,” was Sehun’s first sentence when he woke up the next day. I folded my hands and stared down at him. There were only two of us in the room because Yixing always knew when to give us the kind of privacy we needed. The air grew warmer because summer was approaching. I fanned myself and took a deep breathe before circling around in boredom.

                  A snort escaped my lips before I could give a full-sentence reply, “What? Were you expecting a sadder version of me, moping around broken-heartedly?”

                  “Well, kinda, now that Jongin is here and your Grandfather is dead,” He forced a smile, but it was obvious to me his effort doubled the pain on his neck and stomach. I quickly scooted down so he did not have to crane up with that pitiful expression anymore. He wanted to reach out. I could see his hands twitching uncomfortably on both sides of his body and I immediately clutched onto his left hand and put it gently on my cheeks.

                  “How mean of you! Grandfather’s death is worth celebrating, Hun, and Jongin’s return is just… like that. It’s nothing special,” I murmured and gave him a reassuring smile. He raised his eyebrows in doubt and pressed his lips together to form a beautiful yet mocking smirk. I remembered the sorry state I was in yesterday and shrugged almost too casually for my own liking, “Come on, Sehun. You can’t expect me to be bummed up by that meanie after two effing years. At first yes. But not after the explanation he gave me. No. I’ll move on quick.”                 

                  “You’ll move on but he’s still your first love, isn’t he?” Sehun gently asked, his tone neither mild nor accusing. It was firm, filled with lots of expectancy and predicaments, but I grew used to it. I looked at the wound across his cheeks and carefully brushed his long, untamed hair away from his face. Hopefully it would not scar. “For two years, Darling Dearest, you lived like a zombie and suddenly after I woke up, you turned into this cheerful, no-worries happy-go-lucky. Surely you won’t expect me to believe in that.”

                  His words made sense but I only spoke of the truth. “You are right, Hun.” I sighed and sat on the marble floor. The shine reflected part of my shadow and I had to halt for a moment before I continued speaking. In a sense, I became even more weary and anxious as I grew older. These years had changed me lots – as Sehun and Joonmyun often reminded me. I was impulsive now, but I was even more reckless before. Some of those changes did me good, but not to other people around me, and the Elites didn’t seem to take it so well, either.

                  “But I have been so down for two years. I guess in a way, I was just waiting for the day when I could finally have a conclusion, like an epilogue to why he did what he did, you know? And now that I got it, there was this heavy weight that was lifted off of my chest and suddenly, I have the confidence to… move on. It’s odd, but it’s a good kind of odd – not that I’d expect you to understand anyway,” I chuckled and stared down almost shamefully.

                  “So you talked with Jongin,” Sehun looked at the ceiling with unreadable gaze. He had that calculating look again and I felt a little uncertain every time he did. But unlike Jongin, there was no fear for distrust between us. It was funny how unquestionably faithful I had been to him, and why I had this unwavering certainness that assured me of his loyalty. In a sense, I felt more safe with Sehun. We didn’t play mind games like Jongin and I. And I was glad we didn’t.

                  “Yes,” I nodded. I felt this sudden urge to share what I felt, what we talked about, because I knew Sehun would listen. “I know he has a trauma of his past,” Though honestly speaking, Jongin was mentally unstable even before he came to the headquarter. I noticed the wildness in his eyes when we first met, the hatred that flashed so brilliantly like flames burning down whatever sincerity and humanity he might still have in his heart. “Ironic, isn’t it? I thought I could save him and yet in the end, I only brought him more suffering.”

                  “Sena,” He called out my name slowly as I was muttering more non-sense. “You should know that our lives were vastly different before we met you.” And then he flinched, as if remembering a memory he wasn’t particularly fond of. It was the first, and yet the realest reaction I had seen from Sehun, as he was usually so passive about mostly anything. “Jongin has his fair share of traumatic childhood with Grandfather, as I am sure you are aware of. His parents were burnt off in the so-called accident. No children would take that too kindly, wouldn’t they?”

                  “And I have my own childhood horror as well – but compared to Jongin, it seems insignificant. Many would not know of course, but I think they would be able to link the relation of events during the last decade together. It wouldn’t be hard to see even without thorough research,” He kept his eyes on the white ceiling and refused to look elsewhere. I clenched my fists tightly and said as gently as I could, “You do not have to share if you are uncomfortable with it, Hun.”

                  “Aren’t you curious?” And finally he looked over. His brown eyes no longer held the gentleness. He had a slight disdain that wasn’t directed for me, but rather his past. Sehun had tried very hard to keep a neutral stance in everything, but this was the only time that his cover had slipped up. He allowed me to see this vulnerable, fragile side of his, and what I felt now was bordering gratefulness and nausea. I wasn’t always the best person to go to for comfort. In fact, I was probably the last on list of a great-listener.

                  “I am curious, of course. But if that bothers you much, I’d rather not,” I put my fingers over his eyebrows and smoothened the crease in-between. He stiffened a bit, then relaxed at my touch. He peered at me with curiosity akin to a child and let out a sigh of relief, “You don’t bother me, Sena. Never had and never will. Your presence offer great comfort to me. But I guess you are right. I am not very fond of talking of my past. And even if you found out about it, I wouldn’t mind. I only hope that you would not judge me for what my family did years ago.”

                  “Your past, whatever it might be, has shaped you to be a great man, Sehun. And I can promise you this, I will not try to find out what your family has done that caused you distraught. And even if one day, I inevitably find out, I promise not to judge you,” I knelt down beside him and met his eyes, clear as the day. “I trust you, Sehun. You should know that.” And my body moved along as I placed a split-second kiss on his forehead. The gesture was meant to be friendly, but the moment my lips touched his skin, warmth spread through the surface of my body. It was a pleasant, comforting feeling.

                  Sehun simply stared at me, unsmiling, but not quite gaping. He took seconds to recover with a doubtful, surprised smile. Unlike Jongin, there was no unnecessary blushing, flustered words or loud beating of heart. It was just harmony and comfort, safety and the feeling of coming home once more. “Your trust comes at a great price, Sena. But I’m glad you do.” And the kiss was exactly just that: a promise of trust and a passionate gesture that led to something more.

                  In life, you would fall in love many times. Some fell first and last, but like a writer I liked said, it was never the same love twice. With Luhan, it was more brotherly. With Joonmyun, it was a crush meant for an unattainable fling. Jongin’s was passionate and consuming, but the kind of love I felt for Sehun was almost ambiguous, warm, and pleasant. Perhaps my early hypothesis was right. I would move on quickly, but I would not forget. Human learnt to live on and forgive, and I should do just that.

4 hours later

14 May 2018

Underground, 144 km away from Seoul

Seiryuu headquarter

                  Except that it was not as easy as I had thought.

                  The confidence I had earlier on had decreased by half. In the fully-blasted air-conditioning room, I felt warm and confused. Jongin’s fingers brushed against mine, whether or not it was meant to be intentional. My cheeks turned a shade darker as I focused my attention on Joonmyun. He opened up a parchment filled with specific information of the Byakko and the projector. This could not be good. I shook off whatever childish thought I had and concentrated.

                  “Apologies for interrupting your healing procedure, Sena, but I think you should hear this. It’s grown more serious in the past 24 hours and there is no way we could delay this further,” Joonmyun spoke with admirable authority even when he was surrounded by the Elites of Seiryuu. The only companies he had were Taeil and Kun, but even they would not speak a word unless spoken to. Genbu’s children were far more stoic than the other clan, rivalled to that only of Wu Yi Fan.

                  “Please speak. There is no need to apologise if it concerns the well-being of our clans,” I gave a diplomatic reply that sounded like an automatic machine. Having grown used to such meetings, neither I nor my Elites were fazed by the formal policy. Sehun was the only Elite absent from the room, as he suffered heavy blows compared to others. Luhan and Jongin sat on my sides, and the others stood behind me in the circle table. “And before you start, I need to ask: is this the reason you chose to show up without a representative? You could have sent someone else in your stead. You are newly coronated, after all.”

                  “The importance of this matter calls for a face-to-face contact,” He shot me an award-winning smile. I had missed that smile so much. Even without words, I could tell that he missed me, too. Our ways of communication wasn’t always verbal. There were times when our connection felt more telephatical than oral. “Our sources disclosed an emergency situation by sending this picture and a video four days ago, right before he was killed by Byun Baekhyun.” Head sent to Singapore as a souvenir.

                  It was a picture of a white laboratory of what seemed to be the Byakko’s headquarter. These were advanced technological that I would not be able to understand, but judging from the fearful gasp Yixing let out, it wouldn’t sound so good. Joonmyun continued after a dramatic pause, simply because he loved the flare he gave off of it, “Yes, this is Byakko’s headquarter in Pamana Island, Indonesia. For years, we assumed that his headquarter would be somewhere in Southern Asia or Russia, but we were wrong.”

                  “What are those red-purple tubes?” I pointed out in curiosity at the giant tube the doctor in the picture was looking at. Jongin’s eyes widened as he, too, seemed to have recognised it. The colour was closer to violet than anything else, and it was such a fascinating combination. Joonmyun tapped the screen and the play button disappeared. It was a short ten-second video, but we could hear a complicated set of code being spoken off. He replayed it three-times before I memorised the code perfectly in my head, and by then, Jongin’s expression was very grim.

                  “Experiment GNCDE-050644-NGXXX,” The voice in the recording spoke in a hushed whisper. “Tenth time trial. Background of victim: South Korean, 26 years-old, female,” And a loud scream was heard. The camera shook for a bit. I could feel fear creeping under my skin like a tingly nightmare. Something about her scream sounded almost abnormal, like a call for death. Luhan’s breath hitched. The video stopped there, and it wasn’t hard to picture a scenario based on what we saw.

                  “As you can see, Sena, we believe Byun Baekhyun is planning for a biological war. And his weapon of mass destruction is now finally completed. It’s planned for the Third World War.”