He told himself not to fiddle with his fingers, to stay still in the line of boys that stood at the edges of the mat as they watched (or at least he tried to) the ongoing match. Yet he couldn’t help his eyes as they flickered towards the stands, anxiously searching the crowd for at least one familiar face.

He felt his throat bob nervously when the announcement of the current round’s winner blared out over the speakers - a name that was met with a supportive cheer from the audience. He then counted in his head the number of participants that stood before him, and he felt his heart plummet down to his stomach when he only saw five.

Fourteen-year-old Junhui struggled to not let his fear show when he scanned the stands once more and he still couldn’t find his family.

They promised they’d be here. They’re just running a bit late, that’s all. He reasoned with himself in an attempt to calm down his stuttering pulse. Jeonghan had even promised to bring snacks (they’d already learned the hard way how it was to have ten hungry boys on their hands with no scrap of food in sight) and Jisoo and Seungcheol had even argued over which camera they’d use to film his match with. Also, since the competition was scheduled ever so conveniently on a weekend, each one of his adorable baby brothers could be there as well.

They’ll be there. They’re just running a bit late. The mantra repeated in his head, but it did little to help the churning feeling in his gut. They wouldn’t miss this. They were all so excited.

He vividly remembered Minghao and Hansol the night before, as they bounced enthusiastically at the edge of his bed, role playing all of his matches with him as the victor every time.

He remembered Mingyu insisting that he'd make him a ‘breakfast for champions’ (the younger boy had stomped his foot petulantly when Seungcheol had first said ‘no’) and Junhui in the end ate all of his overly-sweet, syrup-drenched pancakes with nary a complaint.

He even remembered Jihoon appearing seemingly out of nowhere and tugging at his sleeve before he left, the younger boy shifting awkwardly before he offered him a quiet good luck.

And though the corners of his mouth tilted up as he recalled such memories, it was soon overtaken by panic as yet another person finished his match - one bit of which he didn’t even see - and though the spectators’ resounding cheer filled the gymnasium, Junhui swore nothing was louder than the erratic beat of his heart.

The brown-haired boy tried not to pay attention when one of his teammates got fussed over by his mother, the woman rubbing at some non-existent dirt on his cheek.

He tried not to pay attention when the boy right behind him received a steady clap on the shoulder from his father, the older man kneeling down to offer some murmured words of advice.

He tried not to pay attention to the huge digital clock overhead, counting down each second before he was going to go up and compete. Counting down each second he still remained painfully and vulnerably alone.

And though he told himself not to let it get to him, he couldn’t stop those feelings from bubbling back up again, the feelings of that quiet, dark-eyed boy that preferred sitting at the edges of the room, lest the other kids once more for not speaking the local language. The feelings of that orphan that constantly got overlooked for his foreign blood; that orphan who scraped together a working vocabulary of Korean on his own, only to hear his caretakers whisper that he might never get adopted.

It was foolish, he knew it was. He tried to focus on the memory of the day Jisoo first came into the orphanage - he’d worn a blue coat, and his voice was the gentlest thing he’d ever heard. Junhui remembered, despite his own poisonous feelings of self-doubt, when Jisoo had decided to take him home against his caretakers' advice and though they were only two at first Junhui never felt more complete than at that very moment.

Then Jisoo had brought home his brothers one by one - the constantly hyper and always bouncing Soonyoung, a pink, round-cheeked baby Chan, and to his utter shock another Chinese orphan like him, with soft blonde curls and the sweetest smile you’d ever see. Junhui didn’t think he needed more than those four at first, but then Seungcheol had come along with his three sons in tow, followed closely by Jeonghan with his own little brood of children…

…And it had been mayhem ever since.

Mayhem he wouldn’t give up for the world.

“Hong Junhui?”

Junhui froze when an attendant came up to him, clipboard in hand. The young woman leaned forward, tilting her head when she saw his expression, her voice concerned as she spoke. “Junhui? It’s almost your turn. Are you alright, sweetie?”

Junhui's lips parted of his volition, and yet he couldn’t form any words, all of them stuck in his throat. He also couldn’t help but take a step back when she reached out with a worried hand…

…then the attendant let out a started yelp, right in time with him jumping up in surprise when the doors of the gymnasium opened with a resounding bang.

“Gah Cheol! Why’d you open it so loudly-”

“Excuse me, we’re already late for Junhui’s match, and clearly I was in a rush-”

“Shhh quiet you two we’re already drawing enough attention as it is!”

Huh, perhaps he should have rethought his desire to have them here in the first place.

“Appa, I’m hungry you promised me that you’d feed me the moment we got here but I’m still hungry-“

“Once we sit down, Mingyu. I promise you.”

“Eomma, look at all the people! Wow, so many! Oh they’re all looking at us! Why, eomma? Oh my god, I bet it’s cause I’m so cute!”

“Of course Seungkwan! You’re my cutie, after all.”

“Dada dada dada dada dada dada dada-”

“Yes, Soonyoung? What is it?”

“…I have to pee.”

"Ah, what a boisterous bunch!" The female attendant exclaimed, her gaze tracking them as they made their way through the stands. Their loud, attention-drawing way. "Are they all one family? That's amazing! I wonder who they could be here for?" 

(Junhui wondered if it would be rude to ignore her question and just slink away to his match quietly.)  

"Oh I'm sorry he didn't mean to hurt you! Wonwoo, watch Mingyu he's stepping on everyone's feet!"

"Seokmin, stop clinging to Jihoon's back or I won't be responsible for what your brother does next!" 

"Soonyoung, please hold onto Chan for a bit-MINGHAO WHERE ARE YOU GOING?" 

Junhui spotted a familiar curly blonde head dart nimbly through the crowd, and he felt his heart catch when he saw his brother's tiny body nearly fall across the railing when he reached it in all his exuberance - but Jisoo caught the back of his sweater just in time. 

Totally oblivious to the fact he almost fell, Minghao waved wildly at him, his small voice rising up even in this din. "HYUNG! JUNHUI HYUNG!" He yelled happily.

All of their gazes swivelled in his direction.  

"Dada, look it's Junhui-hyung! It's Junhui-hyung! We're right on time!" 

"Awww look at our son, isn't he so handsome? He took after me, of course!" 

"Gah, Hansol! What are you doing? You can't go to Junhui right now so get back over here!" 

"Look, look Junhui-hyung saw us! He saw us!"

“WE’RE HERE, JUNHUI!!” 12 voices in chorus, louder than any crowd, called to him from the stands.

(out of the corner of his eye, he saw the attendant turn to him in shock.) 

And though his face burned bright enough for all to see, it was easily eclipsed by the sweet light of his smile.

...Next time, he'd just send them the video.