The month of January sees the Academic Decathlon team once again in full study mode. They ignore the tempting thin snowfalls outside and push the longing for snowball fights to the back of their mind as they fill out scantrons and scantrons of answers for the mock tests that would determine the team roster. Having ditched the comforts of home for the whiteboard in the classroom, they spend their evenings at school, a dreaded place for all teenagers, reviewing the basics of sigma notation and the main points of Russian history.

Tempers begin to run short as the deadline for team roster submission crawls closer. In an eighteen student class, only fifty percent of them can make it onto the actual team and compete in the official competition. Competition rises, and test scores are mere digits away from each other. After the last mock exam makes its way into Junmyeon’s hands five minutes before class ends, he takes a deep breath and raps smartly on the whiteboard.

“Guys,” he says, pausing and waiting for everyone’s attention. The class had been so quiet that it takes a surprisingly short time for everyone to turn their eyes to him.

“Guys,” Junmyeon begins again. “I just wanted to say, thank you for trying so hard for Decathlon. I hope that after the team roster has been established, there will be no issues arising between all of you.”

Baekhyun opens his mouth to interrupt and object, but Junmyeon quiets him with a look.

“I’ve been in the Academic Decathlon for four years, ever since my freshman year, and I know the effort every one of you guys put into this class. I just really wanted to thank you guys, and I promise that no matter who is on the team, I, as the president, will try my best to lead the team to first place.”

Junmyeon swallows, nervous eyes darting around the room, and smiles weakly. He shrugs a little and gestures to the door.

“Class dismissed?” He laughs a little.

The class stays quiet and no one moves, their eyes still trained to him. His face falls a little.

“I—”

Suddenly, Baekhyun begins cheering, clapping and grinning and hollering Junmyeon’s name over and over again at the top of his lungs. Junmyeon cuts himself off and looks stunned, staring at Baekhyun uncomprehendingly, and then letting his eyes travel to Kris, to Minseok, to Luhan, to Sehun, to everyone else, as they each join in.

“Well, Junmyeon,” Baekhyun says laughing after the chaos had died down. He leans back in his chair and tips it in the way that he knows Junmyeon hates so much and twirls his pencil. “The class is going to be expecting a gold medal from the president then.”

Junmyeon just laughs.

 

---

 

Although the class promises Junmyeon that they wouldn’t argue over the team roster, the class is still remarkably silent the next day, eyes refusing to meet each other’s. Junmyeon walks awkwardly to the front of the room and leans forward onto the teacher’s table.

“Well. The roster has been finalized,” Junmyeon says, looking seriously at the class. “I’ve already sent it in, but team revisions are open until a week from now, so next week Friday.”

He continues glancing around, letting the whispers that had arisen die down. His gaze falls on Luhan and lingers for a second too long, garnering a confused expression from him, before he clears his throat.

“Anyways, let me show you the ranking of the class.”

He presses a button, and the class roster appears on the screen.

Sehun clasps his hands in his lap and skims quickly through the list, focusing on the first nine people. He’s pleasantly shocked to see his name listed and smiles a little to himself, giddiness dancing in his chest.

“As per usual, our highest scorer is Park Chanyeol,” Junmyeon says, waving a hand in the general direction of Chanyeol as polite applause ensues.

Sehun had been shocked to find out that Chanyeol was actually the team’s ace, with his scores rising above nine hundred for each category. The subjective tests are a bit harder for the class to judge, but with Chanyeol’s outgoing and bright attitude, they are sure that he’ll win the judges over in a heartbeat.

“Second place, Do Kyungsoo,” Junmyeon continues, pausing between each name for the class to clap. “Third place, yours truly; fourth place, Luhan; fifth place, Kris Wu; sixth, Sehun; seventh, Victoria; eighth, Baekhyun; and ninth, Tao. However.”

He stops for a second, his lips and leveling his gaze.

“However, I’ve decided to break the tradition for the team to be comprised of only the highest scoring members.”

Heads snap up, and everyone stares at him, astonished. The expected loud protests break out, and Junmyeon calmly waits for everyone to quiet down.

“As a result,” he goes on as if nothing had happened, “I’ve decided to replace Luhan with Jongdae.”

“What.” Jongdae looks at Junmyeon, shocked and mouth falling open.

The remaining whispers and murmurs fall silent as eyes turn first to Jongdae, then Luhan. Sehun grips the straps of his backpack.

Luhan sits stiffly in his seat, and his eyes show no surprise, though there’s just a bit of indignance and resignation. His cheeks are flushed, and his jaw is clenched tight as he stares back at Junmyeon. Junmyeon holds his gaze, expression unchanging although his eyes seem to be asking a question. Luhan doesn’t reciprocate and merely redirects his eyes to the window and nods once, a tiny gesture that goes unmissed by everyone.

“Since that’s been settled,” Junmyeon starts again. “The team members will be expected to stay until eight PM every day, starting next week, and to attend every Saturday session held at my house unless there is a written note excusing you. Readings will be assigned on Sunday, and there will be quizzes every Monday and Wednesday, and tests every Friday, until the week before Round One of the competition. The rest of you may leave once the bell dismisses you. As for today, everyone may leave according to schedule.”

The class leaves, and the usual Friday afternoon chatter is absent as they all glance warily at Luhan, who is slowly packing up his pencils. Sehun stands and takes out the old Chemistry notebook Luhan had lent him and takes a step towards him. He stops as Junmyeon shoves himself away from the desk and walks to Luhan, standing with his hands deep his pockets as he surveys him.

Sehun decides to leave with the bulk of the class instead. He lingers a little at the doorway, noticing that he is the last to exit, aside from Luhan and Junmyeon, and decides to wait outside the classroom.

“Luhan,” Junmyeon’s voice says softly.

“I don’t understand,” Luhan replies, interrupting whatever Junmyeon had been about to say.

“You do. I know you do.”

“I thought you knew how important Decathlon was to me.” Luhan’s voice sounds just a bit hurt.

“I do. Trust me, I know. It’s ju—”

“No you don’t,” Luhan says harshly. “I’m not trying to steal anyone’s spot on the team or anything—I’m not trying to be mean—but that spot was mine. I was fourth place; I had every right to be on the team.”

“I know you were, Luhan. It wasn’t that.”

“Then what was it?” Luhan’s voice begins growing in volume. “Do you see me as incapable? I think my scores show that I’m pretty. Damned. Capable.”

Sehun sees Yixing running down the hallway, smiling as he spots Sehun.

“Hey, I’m late, aren’t I? Did Luh—”

Shhh, Sehun mouths. He’s inside with Junmyeon. He gestures wildly to the door. Comprehension dawns on Yixing’s face, and he moves next to Sehun to peek into the classroom.

“It’s about the team roster, isn’t it?” He whispers.

“How do you know?”

“Junmyeon told me,” he says simply, smiling at Sehun, as if he was saying I’ll tell you later.

“I’m not saying that you’re unable to handle it academically, if that’s what you mean,” Junmyeon is saying.

“Am I too weak to handle all the stress, then? I’ve been in Decathlon as long as you have, and I’ve been on the team just as many times as you. I think I can handle all this crap,” Luhan snaps.

Junmyeon is quiet, and Sehun imagines him looking at Luhan with that slightly sad expression.

“Luhan, how was the audition for the music academy?”

The question is sudden, and now, it’s Luhan’s turn to be silent.

“I didn’t pass. I told you.”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not.”

“Luhan.”

“I said I’m not lying! I didn’t pass—I’m too untalented—are you satisfied now?” He turns to look at Junmyeon, but seems unable to hold his gaze and returns to glaring out of the window.

“Luhan, I know you passed. I saw the letter too, you know. You had it in your folder, and well, rejected students don’t receive letters.”

Luhan remains silent.

“It’s your parents, isn’t it?” Junmyeon prods gently, leaning in just slightly.

“No,” Luhan answers almost too quickly.

“They never approved of Decathlon either, did they?”

“That doesn’t mean anything. That’s their problem. Decathlon is mine.”

Junmyeon laughs a little.

“I know it is, Luhan. But I don’t want you to collapse under all of the expectations. The soccer season is coming soon too, isn’t it? And college acceptance letters will be out. I know your family expects a lot from you.”

“Doesn’t yours too?” Luhan sounds bitter.

“Yeah, but I’m trying for myself. Not for them.”

There’s some shuffling around inside the classroom, and soon, Junmyeon walks out. Yixing greets him with a nod, and he smiles at the both of them.

“See you Monday, Sehun. Good job.”

Junmyeon squeezes Sehun on the shoulder and walks out of the building.

“Luhan?” Yixing steps into the classroom.

“Yeah. I’ll be out in a sec,” Luhan replies, voice small as he grabs his backpack and walks towards the door. “Hey, Sehun.”

“Your notebook,” Sehun says, handing it to Luhan. “I thought you’d want it back.”

“Thanks.”

Luhan takes the notebook and waves bye to Sehun as Yixing begins steering him towards the exit.

“Bye Sehun!” Yixing calls as the doors swing shut behind him.

It takes a while for Sehun to realize what’s nagging him, but as he opens the gate to his house, he realizes that it’s the first time Luhan had not smiled at him.

 

---

 

Sehun mulls over the fact that Luhan was exempt from the team the next couple of hours, spinning in his computer chair as he twirls a pencil and neglects his Chemistry homework. He can’t seem to erase the expression on Luhan’s face when he had walked out of the classroom from his mind.

Luhan had seemed a little bit more human then.

He always seemed angelic, brightening everyone’s day with his smile and carrying with him an unwavering cheerfulness. He still seemed like an angel, but less of those who sang and danced, and more of a fallen angel who sees happiness as a long shattered dream.

It breaks Sehun’s heart in ways that it shouldn’t.

He soon gives up on his Chemistry homework and throws the notebook in his backpack carelessly as he shrugs on a thick jacket. He makes his way to the local convenience store just two streets away from his house and purchases a pack of Yakult, ripping it open as soon as he leaves the store.

Sehun wanders around for a bit more, watching the sky grow dark and finishing the first pack before buying another one to bring home with him. As he turns onto his street, he sees a familiar figure leaning against his fence and frowns.

“Luhan?” He asks softly, eyes narrowing.

“Hey.” Luhan smiles weakly before gesturing to the door. “Fancy a guest?”

Sehun unlocks the gate wordlessly and lets Luhan into his house, feeling a heavy mixture of shock and nerves.

“Why are you here?” He asks after Luhan settles onto his couch, backpack tossed to the side.

“I didn’t want to go home.”

The answer is curt, and Luhan occupies himself by playing with the zipper of his jacket.

“Oh. Are your parents going to be disappointed about the team thing?” Sehun asks lamely, knowing the answer yet asking anyways.

“Nah,” Luhan replies lightly. “I just don’t want to see them.”

Sehun says nothing more and instead, opens the second pack of Yakult.

“Here.” He offers a bottle to Luhan.

Luhan laughs before accepting it, tearing the cover off and drinking it in one gulp.

“Haven’t had one in years,” he remarks after he finishes, lying back onto the couch, staring at the ceiling.

“Want something to eat? It’s dinner time,” Sehun says after minutes of silence, already standing up to shuffle to the kitchen.

“Don’t worry yourself over me, Sehun. I’m the one imposing.”

“It’s alright. I was getting hungry anyways.”

Sehun disappears into the kitchen and begins rummaging through the refrigerator, pulling out a few things here and there. He gathers them in his arms and is just about to turn around when—

“What are you making?”

He shrieks like a little girl before whirling around and dropping the vegetables. Luhan backs slightly, eyes wide before bursting into a fit of laughter over Sehun’s expression.

“Oh my God, you should’ve seen that. , that was classic.”

He continues guffawing and hits Sehun repeatedly on the arm, and Sehun stands shell-shocked for a while before breaking into a smile himself. This Luhan feels a bit more familiar.

“Holy crap, I’m just going to let you go about by yourself now. Before you stab yourself in the hand or something,” Luhan says, biting back his laughter and letting Sehun grab a chopping board behind him.

Luhan continues tittering behind him, and Sehun finally says, “Okay, it wasn’t that funny.”

“Yes it was,” Luhan gasps as he begins laughing all over again, wiping at his eyes and slinging an arm around Sehun’s neck. “Aww, don’t worry Sehun. I’m not making fun of you.”

A flush creeps up on Sehun’s cheeks when Luhan pulls away, and he stares pointedly at the potatoes he’s slicing.

As he and Luhan make their way through the simple dishes Sehun cooked, he thinks that dinner had never been such fun. It’s been a while since someone had joined him for a meal.

Luhan helps him with the dishes, flinging soap bubbles at his face before Sehun retaliates by spraying water at Luhan. They end up soaking wet and shivering from both the cold water and from the laughter that seemed to bubble in their throats every few seconds.

After dinner, Luhan settles back onto the couch, and Sehun goes upstairs to bring his homework downstairs. When he returns, he sees Luhan straightening a pile of magazines on the coffee table, and notices that they’ve been ordered by date.

“They were just lying around, so I just…” Luhan trails off and smiles sheepishly.

“It’s fine,” Sehun reassures him. “I don’t have guests over often, so I don’t really clean up around the living room.”

“Oh. Friends don’t visit?”

Sehun shrugs. “I don’t really make friends.”

Luhan is quiet, and Sehun waits for him to give him a typical answer. You’ll find friends soon enough.

“Everyone in Decathlon is your friend,” Luhan says finally, breaking the silence with conviction lacing his words.

Sehun thinks about it for a second before smiling.

“Yeah.”

He spreads out his homework and pulls out his Chemistry worksheet, ready to attack it once again. Luhan helps him by making random comments about his house.

“Hey, where’s the deer I gave you?”

“In my room.”

“Oh. Dude, your chandelier is really pretty.”

“Thanks.”

“Damn, that’s a fine library; you read a lot, don’t you?”

“Yeah.”

“Hey Se—”

“Hyung,” Sehun says, slightly exasperated. “I’m trying to do homework here.”

Luhan smiles innocently. “I was going to ask how long I can stay.”

Sehun blinks. “Oh. As long as you’d like, I guess.”

“Really?” Luhan raises an eyebrow. “What about your parents?”

“My mother comes home really late, and I don’t think she’ll mind. Like I said, I never have people over.”

Luhan doesn’t ask about his father and nods, ruffling Sehun’s hair.

“How ‘bout your parents?” Sehun asks.

“They won’t notice I’m gone,” Luhan says simply.

Sehun doesn’t ask what Luhan means.

“Do you mind?”

“Do I mind you being here?”

“Mhmm.”

Sehun grins. “Of course not.”

Luhan ends up falling asleep on Sehun’s couch after explaining Le Chatelier’s Principle to Sehun for the twentieth time. Sehun sighs and fetches a blanket from the linen closet and gently lays it over Luhan.

Something fond stirs in him as he gazes at Luhan’s sleeping face, and he instinctively brushes the hair away from Luhan’s face. He retracts his hand immediately after and glares at the grandfather clock across the room for no apparent reason.

Sehun falls asleep on the loveseat by Luhan. His Chemistry homework remains unfinished.