There comes a time in our lives when we begin wondering what the purpose of our existence is. The sun rises, the sun falls, it grows cold and then warm again. Fireflies dance over the horizon and flowers bloom beneath their wings while spring slowly smiles. In between cold sweeps over then the world begins again. It’s the foundation of life, serves as an outlet for the world to restart again – maybe it’s a lesson that even if things aren’t perfect, trying again is always an option.

What life meant was always a question Sehun needed an answer to. He always expected the answer to be grand, profound, and out of the world. Never thought it would be something as simple as waking up to the one who graced his life, having a meal with his family, hearing a baby cry, and getting frustrated over the most petty matters.

For years Sehun always found himself pressing the restart button to his life in hopes of reshaping and rediscovering the one road destined for him. Nothing ever seemed right.

Chances always come and go. Now he was glad that he not only tried a second time but a third time, revamped, and restarted his life from where he once left off. Maybe there didn’t need to be a purpose for living. Maybe all a person needed was to feel content and believe they belonged and in turn, happiness would come into shape.

Five years ago when he met Namjoo she was just a brat, but also the coolest and most headstrong kid. Like him, her life had no direction but that was what made her brave, courageous.

“Get the hell out of here! Do you want to ing get hit too?!” were among the first words spoken to him. He hadn’t come to bother the cat she was trying to save, but the noise she was making had caught his attention. Her ferocious eyes had driven him away but he had come back the next day with some food for the cat and her kittens. They weren’t there. Namjoo was though.

Before that Sehun never officially met her. He didn’t even know about her. Namjoo’s watchful eyes stared him down while he blankly searched into the alley for the canine. The rebel was smoking, backpack at her feet. She was the coolest thing he’d come across. Namjoo had stared at him with a glare then dropped the cigarette to her feet and stomped it out. With threatening eyes she brushed by.

He dreamt about those eyes that night. They were fierce but with a tender glow. Teen Sehun had awoken with heart pounding, blood rushing, and a head occupied with nothing but the girl he’d seen. He knew he had to seek her out the next day.

Student Sehun had roamed the hallways in search of her. When he couldn’t find her he returned to the alley after classes were out. Namjoo was in the alley again. This time he silently stood with her and he did it again the next day and the day after that and also the day after that. Once she got annoyed she’d pick up her bag and walk away. Sehun would silently follow. He wanted to know all about her.

The pure instinct that drove him forward was indefinable. When he got the feeling, he just got the feeling. Instincts, he always thought, was an amazing thing. It was always right.

It started then, he supposed, his attachment to Namjoo. Even if she had told him off just once, he would still have followed her anyway. They were always meant to be and Namjoo had always been the star guiding him home.

Like the natural order of the seasons that transitioned to one after another, his relationship with Namjoo naturally rolled by, evolving from one stage to the next. When he met Namjoo five years ago, his future had already been set.

From beside him Namjoo stirred awake. A dim ray of light struggled to shine in from the thick curtain at the side. The empty room upon his arrival was now filled with family pictures; portraits of Soo Ae, Ki Hoon, of him and Namjoo. The mother who had so coldly treated Namjoo when he married her, for a month, had cooked fresh food and brought it over daily after Ki Hoon was first born. Nourishment, his mother often lectured, is important for a woman, especially after giving birth. Sehun was plenty sure that it wasn’t just because they had a son that his mother had a change of face, but because his mother had been lonely. Now, she was even suggesting adding another baby to the family once Ki Hoon got older. Sehun had yet to think about it.

Quietly, Namjoo slipped out of the room after leaning over the crib to check on their son. He was a deep sleeper, that little one. Sehun couldn’t tell who he got it from. Namjoo said it was from him but he was sure Ki Hoon got it from her.

Sehun lay there for a minute or two just staring at his empty bedside. It was still warm. These days he and Namjoo rarely cuddled. They were so caught up with making a living they could barely even enjoy sleep. He had honestly wanted Namjoo to take a longer maternity leave, but she had wanted to return to work after three months of rest. He had inclined. Taking her job from her was one of the worst crimes he could commit. In their stead, his parents would often come over to babysit.

Soo Ae excelled in kindergarten and would immediately hop over to the first grade once summer came and went. Sehun thought it was thanks to the hours he spent in the evenings reading and teaching Soo Ae. Namjoo didn’t quite agree. Soo Ae, she argued, was just naturally smart. Of course he wouldn’t argue against that, but he still felt it was thanks to him. Sometimes he felt bitter that after returning home from work Soo Ae would first ask about Chanyeol before worrying about him. These days he wasn’t really sure how to handle the crush she had on his friend.

“It’s just a phase,” Namjoo had said, but the phase was lasting for an unbelievably long time. Sehun had even started telling Chanyeol to come over less and not to get Soo Ae any gifts anymore. When Soo Ae whined about Chanyeol Sehun would bribe her with ice cream. It did just the trick.

Namjoo just set the kettle on the stove when he walked down the hall. He had left the bedroom door a crack open so that if Ki Hoon cried they would hear him. It was Saturday and Soo Ae was still in bed. Yesterday, after a long debate with Namjoo – obviously she’d won – Soo Ae had gone out to the movies and pizza with Chanyeol.

“Don’t you think he’s lonely, too?” Namjoo had worried. “And Soo Ae must be bored staying home all the time. It won’t do her any harm.”

“Says the person who freaked over letting her go around by herself,” he had wanted to mutter. One of his biggest worries these days were Soo Ae’s boy problems, if she were ever to have any. Sehun didn’t want her to grow up too fast, but that was what happened when kids went to school. They grow up.

“Coffee?” Namjoo asked upon noticing him.

“On a Saturday?”

“Well, you’re probably going to be up all night, don’t you think?” she mused, meaning she was going to make him take care of Ki Hoon all night if he fussed.

“You got up early to punish me?” he asked walking over to place a kiss on her head.

“You’re the only one worth punishing.” she teased. Sehun made a face as he sunk down into a chair behind her. A second later she leaned down to hug him from behind and gave him a quick peck. “I’m kidding.” How such a simple thing caused his heart to flutter with millions of butterflies still amazed him today.

“Do you have any single co-workers?” Sehun wondered.

“Why?” Namjoo asked popping bread into the toaster. “You’re not, all of a sudden, bored of me, are you?”

“You’ll probably bore of me first,” he said and listened to her breathe out a laugh. “For Chanyeol. I want to hook him up.”

“Let the man do his own bidding,” Namjoo told.

“Yea? You can say that after Soo Ae gets swept off her feet by him.” Sehun muttered.

Namjoo half twisted around to eye him. “You’re kidding me.”

“Do I look it?” he questioned looking up at her.

Turning around with a snort when the bread jumped up from the toaster Namjoo said, “I think Chanyeol has standards. Shouldn’t you know him better? It’s a little out of his league to go for someone a million light years younger than him.”

“Hey, it happens in the world today,” Sehun shrugged. “I’m not going to let my daughter live that.”

The kettle screeched and Namjoo poured their coffee for them. After setting the toasted bread onto plates she pulled some butter out of the fridge and placed them onto the table. Pulling a chair to the head of the table she looked him over. “I would like to think Soo Ae knows better. You can’t, by any chance, be jealous because she asks about Chanyeol more than you.”

Sehun laughed flabbergasted. “Who do you think I am?”

Namjoo eyed him with lips threatening to burst into mock laughter. “Don’t be a worry wart. You obsess over the tiniest things. I’m sure she’ll start crushing on kids her age once she begins first grade. She’ll be surrounded by more kids and before you know it, she’ll be bringing boys home.”

Sehun’s eyes fell flat. “Are you telling me that’s what you did?”

Namjoo leaned over to slap his arm then grabbed her piece of bread and began spreading butter over it. It crunched noisily as she bit on it. His appetite jumped up a notch as he watched her eat before leaning forward to steal a bite.

“What the hell!” his shoulder stung as Namjoo hit it then she whined, “Eat your own! Your piece is right there!” She whined again and kicked the floor in complaint. “I don’t even have half a bread left!”

Sehun snorted before leaning over to pull her off the chair and onto his lap. “We don’t get to do this anymore.”

Namjoo clicked her tongue showing her annoyance but let him twine his arms around her. She continued to eat her piece of toast and shared the last piece with him by biting onto it and leaned over to give it to him. Once he swallowed the toast they made out for a bit until Soo Ae came down the hall, sleepily calling for her mother. Sehun let her off his lap and watched Namjoo get their daughter a fresh glass of milk. His heart grew warm at the sight. Grabbing the leftover piece of toast on the table he spread butter over it before offering it to his daughter.

“Did you have fun last night?” he inquired.

“Uncle Yeol says we can go bowling next time,” she said butter off her fingers. “Can I go bowling?”

“I don’t know about that.” he answered.

“Please,” Soo Ae begged then turned to look at Namjoo for an answer. “Mommy, can I go?”

“Of course you can.”

“Namjoo,” he leaned over to glance at her with disapproving eyes. Namjoo glanced back with wide innocent eyes and shrugged. Sehun sighed then glanced at Soo Ae, “Just once and that’s it.”

Soo Ae squealed with delight. Hearing it brought a smile to Sehun’s face. After washing dishes Namjoo climbed up to relax on the couch with him. Together with Soo Ae they spent the morning immersed in early morning cartoons before he rose to feed Ki Hoon his bottle. Later in the afternoon they took a stroll together around the block before crossing the street to let Soo Ae onto the playground. He and Namjoo sat at a bench, his hand gently pushing the baby stroller back and forth to lull Ki Hoon into a deep sleep.

There had been many periods in his life when he’d foreseen a blank future ahead. The vision he’d had had been a blank and vast sky, void of shining stars. The very question what do I want to do with my life had pondered him many nights and days. With too many possibilities lying ahead Sehun hadn’t known which to take. Everything he’d had meant nothing. He didn’t ponder on the past as it receded from memory while he focused on the present.

Building a family may not be what everyone wants and it certainly wasn’t what he ever longed for. He didn’t know he even wanted to be a father until it happened. Without warning, life just seemed to have dropped on him. He supposed that’s what happens sometimes. Sehun was glad for the lesson learned and felt blessed to have come this far, gaining wisdom and learning something new every step of the way. Now he cherished every moment he had. Every morning when he woke up and every night when he went to sleep the meaning of his life became a tad more important.

He existed. For Namjoo. Soo Ae. His son. And himself.

Listening to the little guy softly breathe from his stroller he knew this was where he belonged. His life from now on could only continue blooming.