A/N: Warning: mentions of suicide and suicide attempt (not really) and self harm.

Read both of Yixing’s parts to get the whole picture.

Also, you guys remember Yixing has hemophilia in real life, right?

-B.

-March 25th, 2015. Changsha, Hunan 13:12.

Yixing felt like he had been running on autopilot all morning. His mind felt hazed, barely taking in his surroundings as he went on some last minute shopping -he needed a decent black tuxedo for the occasion.

The call he had received earlier had struck something familiar inside of him, a part of him he thought he had buried deep.

Once he got back home, he quickly excused himself and went to lock himself in the bathroom. Yixing held onto the sink to fight back the tremor in his hands, unable to look at his reflection in the mirror. He knew where his mind was heading to and knew he had to stir away from those thoughts, but he didn’t have enough control over himself anymore -not really.

Over the past few months, Yixing had been more in touch with perceiving his emotions, which had been and continued to be a struggle. And over the past week he had a gut feeling that something was going to happen, but he had attributed that anticipation to the frequent thoughts he had had about his group.

He had not forgotten. He was fully aware of what was meant to happen by the end of the month and had expected to be contacted by s, at the very least by Lu Han, but he hadn’t heard from any of them. Instead he received a somber phone call from a dear friend, his mentor.

Yixing’s breathing was strained by the tension in his muscles while his heart thumped slow and steady. His pulse was too relaxed when it should’ve been erratic with nervous anticipation. He could sense how imbalanced his hormones were. Serotonin levels were down; dopamine as well and have been scarce for years; norepinephrine raging high while cortisol remained rather low, messing up the response of his autonomic system.

He did feel the rush of energy in his muscles despite having nowhere to run. His eyes zeroed on the water dripping from the faucet. He couldn’t hear anything but his contradicting pulse. Severe bradycardia -a consequence from his abuse of dynorphin, his prefered analgesic.

He was curious. The damn phone call had aroused his curiosity and even though he knew nothing would happen, he thought that maybe this time he might feel something.  

Yixing hurriedly moved to turn on the shower and then squatted down to search inside the cabinet under the sink.

After one of the longest showers he had ever taken, Yixing changed into a new set of clothes, making sure to pick out a long sleeved sweater. He felt comfortably numb and languid. He packed a canvas backpack and a suit carrier, and brought them to the living room. He left his items on the sofa and made his way to sit at the kitchen table -which had already been set.

When he sat down he felt the full effects of the anesthesia kick in; but no amount of opioids could calm down the torment in his mind.

In his dazed state, he could hear the sizzling of the frying pan and smell the aroma of stir fried chicken, but he felt no hunger whatsoever.

Yixing watched Zhixiang moving about in the kitchen. Yixing tried to clear his mind by focusing on the other’s tall and wide frame dancing as he prepared lunch. Zhixiang turned around with a little piruet as he made to add a pinch of salt, and side-stepped with pops and locks as he went to the fridge to search for some new ingredient, all the while singing to some tune he had stuck in his mind. Yixing couldn’t fathom where all the energy came from the other guy, but that’s what made them work.

Despite being twelve years older, Zhixiang's bright and childish energy was what brought out a smile to Yixing’s face -even though the elder could become exhausting to deal with, Yixing enjoyed his company nonetheless.

Zhixiang finally noticed him halfway through another spin. He smiled wide at him, “Hey.”

“Hey,” Yixing copied, forcing his lips upwards while he pulled the collar of his the turtleneck higher.

“How’d it go?” he asked as he turned back to mind the kitchen stove.

“Good.”

“Got everything you need?”

“Yeah.” Yixing reached up to play with his empty cup. “I was thinking about buying some flowers.”

Zhixiang shook his head. “Buy them at Kunming. Yunnan province is famous for their cut flowers.”

Yixing nodded, “Okay.”

Zhixiang made his way towards the table with a steaming teapot. He swatted at Yixing’s hands to get him to let go of the cup. “Are you going to pass by the shop before you leave?” He asked as he poured some tea. “You remember Hungsheng? His knee has been acting up again.”

Yixing hummed as he recalled the name. “He needed acupuncture, right?”

“Yeah. I was wondering if there was anything you could give him for the meantime. You know, since the shop will be closed for a while.”

“I could fix him up,” Yixing said softly, not meeting the other’s gaze.

“I don’t want you getting in trouble again,” Zhixiang said, leaning forward. “Huang Lei’s shop is already suspicious enough with all the ‘miracles’ you’ve managed to pulled off. Just keep things...traditional.”

Yixing stared up at him for a moment. Traditional was one way to say it, but Yixing knew Zhixiang meant normal.

Working at his mentor’s Traditional Chinese Medicine shop had been the best cover for Yixing to continue using his abilities. The shop had become increasingly popular since he joined the team, being considered a ‘miracle worker’ for his innate talent at creating potions, his precision with accupressure and his fearlessness at resetting bones.

Most customers never needed to return at all.

Yixing let out a small sigh. “I’ll mix something up and leave it on the counter for you to pick up.”

“Thanks,” Zhixiang smiled brightly and then turned back to pick up the pan from the stove. “I’ll  join you guys on Friday after dropping off Ruolan with her mother,” he informed as he served the dishes. “Where is she, by the way?”

Yixing shrugged and Zhixiang called her over as he sat down across from Yixing.

“Don’t just sip tea this time. You need to eat,” the elder spoke with his mouth full, pointing with his chopsticks at Yixing’s plate.

Yixing stared down at the food with a lost gaze. He knew he should feel thankful for Zhixiang’s concern, he could feel a slight tug in chest telling him so, but his stomach felt tense and numb. Yixing tried to ignore the feeling so he could force himself to eat.

Yixing remembered the time when he had no appetite. He had gone many months without food and barely drank water. It wasn’t until he saw Lu Han again that he began to force himself to eat.

He wondered how the solitudinarian was doing in that big house of his. It’s been a while since he had last heard from Lu Han.

Yixing’s attention snapped back to Zhixiang, who had thrown a mushroom at his forehead.

“Are you alright?” Zhixiang asked worriedly. “You seem rather aloof. Well, more than usual.”

Yixing didn’t get the chance to come up with a reply, for right at that moment Ruolan came dashing into the scene. The little girl ran all the way up to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She hid her face against his side, concealing her giggles. Yixing picked her up with ease, and let her sit on his lap.

“What’s so funny?” he asked amused.

Ruolan covered with her little hands while shaking her head from side to side, with  a mischievous glint in her charcoal eyes.

“Why won’t you tell uncle Xing Xing why you’re laughing?” Zhixiang asked with a chuckle.

Ruolan stopped giggling, though she didn’t remove her hands. Her eyes widened with curiosity as she tilted her head to the side.

“What?” Yixing asked confused.

Ruolan pointed at his neck. “Blood.”

Yixing stopped breathing the whole three beats it took him to realize what the little girl had said. He kept a firm grip on Ruolan’s back with his left hand while carefully freeing his right hand to touch the skin below his jawline. The blood felt thick, caught in the process of clotting up.

Yixing covered his neck with his hand. “It’s alright. It’s just a little cut from shaving,” he explained with a calm voice.

“Why?” Ruolan innocently asked.

Yixing’s gaze briefly met with Zhixiang’s -the other’s eyes were wide with worry, and brows furrowed in suspicion.

“It was an accident.” He reassured with a smile.

Zhixiang walked around the table and gently picked Ruolan up. He sat her down on her seat and told her to begin eating without them while he’d help Yixing clean up.

Yixing let himself be led to their shared bathroom, Zhixiang’s grip uneasy on his arm. After shutting the door, Zhixiang let out a breath and turned to face him.

Zhixiang’s face paled as his shaking pupils inspected him. Yixing knew he was in trouble.

“What did you do?” he asked with trepidation.

“Nothing,” he immediately answered. “It’s just from shav-”

“You don’t shave, Yixing,” he cut in. “You don’t even grow hair.”

Yixing lowered his gaze and reached up to cover his neck -mentally cursing at how slow he was healing.

“This is ridiculous.” Zhixiang whispered to himself, frustration tensing his tone.

He reached up to pull Yixing’s right hand away from his neck and then pushed his sleeve up to reveal his arm. A pink line stretched from his wrist up to the inner side of his elbow.

Zhixiang’s hold tightened. “,” he said under his breath and then checked Yixing’s left arm to find the same line of healing skin.

Yixing said nothing as he stood there with a vacant gaze. Zhixiang held his chin gently, and turned his head to expose the right side of his neck, pushing his turtleneck lower. Yixing felt his thumb lightly graze across the healing cut, and then they were two steps apart.

Zhixiang clenched and unclenched his hands at his sides a few times with a hesitant pace. Yixing knew there was no use in inventing an excuse and decided to wait for the other to speak first.

“Have you…” He gulped nervously. “Have you done this before?”

Yixing focused his gaze on Zhixiang’s left earring. “Yes.”

Zhixiang closed his eyes as he took in a sharp breath through his trembling lips. “While...While we’ve been living with together?”

Yixing shook his head. “No.”

“When?”

“Before we met. I...I was a mess, you know.” Yixing met the other’s eyes -too many emotions darkened his gaze, making Yixing startle under the intensity -yet his heartbeat remained impassive. “When I was left alone, I couldn’t stand...anything. Everything was too much, so I tried to disappear.”

“Disappear?” Zhixiang repeated, trying to make sense of the word. “Your...your addiction.”

Yixing nodded. Though that was only one of the many atrocious things he had done, but he wasn’t going to worry Zhixiang even further.

“It was worse than what Huang Lei told you,” he admitted with a cautious tone.

“I…” Zhixiang lowered his arms, crossing them over his chest in a small attempt to comfort himself. “Huang Lei told me once that, when he began to know you, you were barely living.” Zhixiang’s eyes began to water, but he kept it in. He had always been strong to keep himself from crying. “I thought he was exaggerating, being metaphoric or whatever, but….but he wasn’t. Right?”

Yixing made to reach up to touch the skin of his neck, but he forced his hand down back to his side when he saw Zhixiang’s disapproving gaze. He slowly nodded in response, not wanting to add any detail to how he used to be.

Zhixiang moved to search inside the cabinet under the sink and pulled out a washcloth. He wetted it and proceeded to clean the dry blood off Yixing’s neck.

“I thought your body was supposed to heal itself.” He commented as he gently cleaned the healed area. “Quickly,” he added. “Not this.”

Yixing looked down at his exposed arms. The pink lines were barely perceptible, and soon there would be no indication of the harm he had done to himself.

“I just, wrecked my body too much, it doesn’t work like the way it used to,” he simply explained, striping away the severeity of his statement. “It does heal. It just takes a little longer, as if I have hemophilia.”

“Yixing, you bled out from a simple gillette cut.”

“It wasn’t simple.”

Zhixiang froze at that. His hand slowly moved away from his neck. “Were you…” Zhixiang’s voice sounded weak, as if he struggled to speak. “Were you really trying to kill yourself?”

Yixing took a step to the side, keeping his gaze to the floor.

He felt him push his shoulder to get him to pay attention. “Yixing? Yixing, answer me.”

Yixing crossed his arms in front of his chest. “It’s not like I can die anyway.”

“,” Zhixiang muttered and leaned against the sink, letting his head hang low to not look at him. “Why did you do it?” He dared to ask. “Is it because of Huang Lei’s father? Is that what got your silly head into trying this ?”

“I was curious,” he shrugged.

“You can’t do things like this, Yixing.” Zhixiang raised his voice, as he stood straight to face him.  

“It’s not a big deal.”

“Yes, it is! It is a ing big deal,” Zhixiang argued, throwing the cloth into the sink. “We need to talk about this, Yixing. What if you’re depressed?”

“Depressed?” Yixing dumbly repeated while raising his brows.

“Yes, depressed,” he insisted. “Imagine all the dumb you’d end up doing.”

Yixing let out a humourless laugh. “Seriously, don’t,” Yixing said while pushing down his sleeves. “I’ve been depressed before, and this is not it. Don’t worry about this.”

“I do worry,” he said, voice heated and emotional, while patting his chest. “Don’t you think it’s a little disconcerting and ing confusing? You saved my daughter’s life and now you’re slitting open your wrists and throat? For what? A thrill? How am I supposed to react to this?”

Yixing frowned as he looked back at him. “It’s not about you.”

“I care about you,” Zhixiang held onto his shoulders, “and this worries the out of me.”

“Nothing happens to me,” he said annoyed as he tried to push Zhixiang’s hands away.

“How can you say that when you’re hurting yourself, Yixing. Physically hurting yourself,” Zhixiang pressed on, not letting him go.

“Nothing happens to me!” Yixing yelled, surprising them both from his outburst. Zhixiang stared at him, shocked and hurt. His hands went limp, making it easy for Yixing to step away. ”That’s why I do this.” He said after a moment of silence. “To feel something. Don’t you get it?”

Zhixiang visibly gulped. “Do you?” he asked instead. “Do you feel something? Anything?”

Yixing felt startled by the question. He fisted his hands as his chest deflated and then shook his head. “Nothing happens to me,” he said with a soft voice, sounding small. “Even if I hurt myself, nothing...”

Zhixiang stepped forward into his space. “But it hurts me,” he said through tears. Yixing looked up at him, speechless and perplex. Zhixiang grabbed his hands and held them against his own chest. “You’ve done this before. Feel what I feel.”

Yixing’s attention went to his hands, perceiving the shift in the release of neurotransmitters, the oversignalization between certain areas of the brain and the autonomic system, the adrenalin, the tension in his heartstring.

His focus broke when he felt a tug on his wrist.

“Don’t think,” Zhixiang said as he pressed his hand on top of Yixing’s. “Feel.”

Yixing closed his eyes and copied Zhixiang’s response, feeling the other’s emotions with his own body. His heartbeat picked up, feeling erratic and constricted, causing his whole chest to ache. He felt pressure against the back of his throat and his breathing shorten, making him fight to breathe. His knees weakened, frame trembled as his knees weakened.

He felt fragile. Each beat of his heart tortured his soul, little by little bringing him closer to breaking down.

He hadn’t cried his eyes out in so long. He remembered he last time he felt this wrecked was back when he still had s, when he still had Baekhyun, holding him close and sharing his pain, like he was doing now with Zhixiang.

Yixing gripped onto Zhixiang’s shirt to hide his face against it. The memory had done it, he finally broke.

Zhixiang wrapped his arms around him, holding him close as he let Yixing sob against his chest.

“You can’t be doing these experiments around us,” he said with a tearful voice as he Yixing’s back, “You can’t do this to Roulan, what if she saw you doing it? Huh? You saved her life, she admires you, she loves you. I love you.” He kissed the top of Yixing’s head and then leaned his cheek against it. “Don’t do this to us again. Don’t make us worry over you like this.”

“I’m sorry. I’m so-”

“It’s alright. It’s alright,” he held him closer. “You’re going to be alright.”

Yixing wished he was right.

-March 25th, 2015. Paris, 06:12.

It was the lack of warmth that made his body stir and reach out, only to find the bed sheets cold and empty. Something uncomfortable settled in his gut when he felt a familiar hollowness in his heart. Sehun, still half asleep, fumbled around, searching between the sheets for the source of comfort that held him through the night.

Sehun woke up with a jump once he realized he was alone.

He sat up feeling wide awake, chest aching as his eyes pictured the reality he feared. He was left all alone.

Alone.

But then his eyes looked a little further, and he found his heart slowly pacifying. Baekhyun was still in the room, dressed in sportswear, sitting at his desk.

He wasn’t alone.

Sehun breathed out in relief, falling back down against the mattress. He took a moment to calm down, staring up at the wight ceiling. There’s something very familiar with the way the room made him feel. It reminded him of the underground facility of the trials. Just remembering that place spooked him enough to get up and out of the bed.

Baekhyun didn’t have many things in his room, and the desk only had a chessboard laid out and a small notepad with some scribbles written on it.

Sehun leaned against the adjacent wall and watched Baekhyun stare at his board. That’s all he did, stare down at the chessboard with his arms crossed over his chest.

Sehun stared at the board, feeling compelled to check every move that had been made. An inexplicable urge to know what was going on.

The game didn’t seem very engaging, most of the pieces moved where pawns. White’s pawns a, b and g had advanced one step, while pawn c had moved two steps. Behind pawn c was the light knight. And white’s light bishop was standing behind pawn g, and in front of the dark knight. As for the blacks, pawns e and g had advanced one step. Dark knight had jumped to position c6, while the light knight had been assigned to e7, behind pawn e and in front of black's king. Black’s dark bishop had moved to position g7.

White had made six moves to five, meaning it was black’s turn to play.

“What are you doing?” Sehun asked.

“Can it be cheating if there are no rules against it?”

“What?”

“Nothing. Just practicing,” he said without looking at him. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, just watching.”

Baekhyun let out a breathy chuckle. “I meant, why are you in my room? Why’d you sleep here?”

“Oh, umm, well,” Sehun rubbed the side of his neck. “Jongin and Tao were busy and Junmyeon, uhh, he’s in the tank. So I was going to sleep with Minseok, but he’s rooming with Daniel, and that guy makes weird noises with his mouth when he sleeps. I couldn’t stand it,” Sehun explained as he leaned back and forth against the wall.

“Well, not that I’m complaining, ‘cause you are a sight to wake up to, but-”

“Hyung,” Sehun cut in, scandalized.

Baekhyun chuckled. “But this is a single room,” he looked up at him amused. “You could’ve used a room for your own.”

Sehun looked away, down to his feet. “I, uh, didn’t want to be alone,” he muttered softly.

Sehun felt Baekhyun pull the hem of his shirt. “It’s okay. You can stay here if you want.” He pulled a bit stronger. “Sit.” Baekhyun made him sit on top of his desk, beside the chessboard. “So, how’d it go with Lu Han?”

Sehun looked down at his lap, biting his lower lip instead of replying.

“Hmm,” Baekhyun hummed. “Not good then.”

Sehun shook his head.

“What did he say?”

“Not much.” He shrugged. “He didn’t want to speak with me. He didn’t even let me get close.”

“He...He didn’t speak to you?” Baekhyun said concerned while scratching his neck. “Did you at least get to see him?”

Shook his head again. “He didn’t want me inside his hou-the house.”

Baekhyun’s brows furrowed in confusion. “He didn’t let you inside the house?”

“No,” Sehun frowned as well, but out of bitterness. “I...I don’t understand why he has to be that way.”

Baekhyun was silent for a moment. He reached forward, picked up white’s pawn g and twirled it between his fingers with practiced ease. Sehun watched the moving piece distractedly, wondering why he reached for a piece further away, needing to pass over the dark knight and light bishop, until he felt he was being observed. Sehun looked back, surprised to find Baekhyun watching him instead of the twirling pawn. Sehun felt a little intimidated with the way Baekhyun’s gaze regarded him, but the moment only lasted mere seconds. Baekhyun’s gaze softened before looking away.

He set the piece back to position g3 and clasped his hands together. “Sehun, do you know why he’s in that house?” He asked with a soft tone as if he was being careful addressing the subject. “Did Minseok explain it to you?”

Sehun nibbled on his lower lip, taking a moment to reply. “Yes.”

“So you understand him being there is important. That he will get help to solve his personal issues; issues that should’ve been addressed from the beginning.” Baekhyun placed his hand on Sehun’s knee. “This is a good thing.”

“I know. I know,” he said, looking away as he felt his eyes tear up. Sehun gulped hard, fighting back the tightness in his throat. “I just...I just wish it didn’t have to be this way. That he didn’t have to stay away from, from us,” he said, keeping his voice stable. “I just wanted us all to be together again.”

“I want that too,” Baekhyun said with a small smile. “But it’s going to take some time. That’s  why I wanted you to get a chance to see him, because it will take time and hard work for him to get better.” Baekhyun rested his chin against Sehun’s knee, right where his hand used to be. “It’s not going to be easy to get everyone back together,” he mumbled.

Sehun kept quiet as he stared down at him, hyper-aware of how his skin vibrated with Baekhyun’s voice. Sehun felt something oddly comforting with the gesture. It was unexpected, but Baekhyun’s unabashed closeness evoked a warm, fluttering feeling inside. Something he felt was missing. Something he had long for from Lu Han. A simple gesture of closeness, that could be read as something more, but to him it meant affection.

He didn’t feel intimidated by Baekhyun’s gaze this time, but he did feel like Baekhyun could see right through him.

“Do you…” Baekhyun tilted his head to rest on his thigh, making it easier to speak. “Do you still love him?”

“Of course I do.”

“Even after the Edinburgh fiasco?”

Sehun didn’t immediately reply, but not because he doubted himself. He looked back at the chessboard. “How...How did you know?”

“What?”

“How did you know that he never told me?”

Baekhyun let out a small breath and then leaned back against his chair. “He’s not one to share much about himself, so I guessed,” he confessed.

Sehun huffed. “It sounds like an obvious guess.”

“It’s not that big of a deal, either you knew or you didn’t.”

Sehun sighed defeatedly, regarding Baekhyun with curiosity. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Baekhyun asked with a little chuckle.

“What about you and Yixing?” Baekhyun’s smile faltered. “Do you...you know. Still like him?”

Baekhyun looked down at the board while rubbing his arm. “It’s...I don’t know, I think I might.” He shifted his attention back to Sehun, smiling with a touch of melancholy. “It’s different though; complicated.”

“Why?”

“Well, to begin with, I didn't have what you and Lu Han have, or what Jongin and Kyungsoo have. I didn't have that thing to hold on to and wait for it to return.” Baekhyun shrugged, moving his hands with a flourish. “We didn’t get the chance to make out what was happening between us.”

“Oh,” Sehun said deflated.

“You sound disappointed about that,” Baekhyun snickered.

“No, I just, uh,” Sehun blabbed flustered. “I, I didn’t know you guys weren’t…”

“It’s okay,” Baekhyun waved him off dismissively. “Anyway, it’s been years and I’ve been with other people,” he admitted with a content smile.

Sehun’s eyes widened in astonishment. “You dated other people?” he asked almost desperately, voice hitching up at the end.

“Yeah,” he answered nonchalantly.

Sehun didn’t know why he angered at the thought. During all those years he might have grown lonesome, but he never thought of doing something behind Lu Han’s back.

“What’s with that face?” Baekhyun asked.

“What face?”

“You look displeased,” he said, crossing his arms before his chest.

Sehun hesitated, but Baekhyun gave him a silent indication to speak up. “I...I wouldn’t.”

Baekhyun nodded in consideration. “I was tired of being alone,” he admitted. “Didn’t you ever feel that? That longing to be close with somebody.”

Sehun looked down at his hands on his lap, knowing exactly what Baekhyun meant. He had spent so long feeling a hollowness inside, aching to reach out for his loved one. All those years, yet he could never grow accustomed to it. It never ceased to hurt him.

“It’s still not reason for doing that,” Sehun muttered.

“For you perhaps. But for me, it felt like something I had to do. Something I needed to experience.” Baekhyun let out a sigh, resting his hands back on his lap. “I couldn’t do what you did.”

“What?”

“Wait.”

Sehun fell silent at Baekhyun’s comment and kept his lips together in a tight line. There was something in Baekhyun’s gaze that made Sehun feel like he knew more than what he was leading on; as if he truly knew how lonesome Sehun had lived.

“Also, Yixing, he…” Baekhyun fidgeted with his fingers. “He’s got a life of his own.”

Sehun frowned confused. “What do you mean?”

“He, uh, he’s moved on or something,” Baekhyun furrowed his brows. “I don’t know if it counts as moving on, but he’s with someone now.”

“Oh,” Sehun said numbly -brain slowly assimilating the news.

“Oh,” Baekhyun copied humorously. “Told ya it was complicated.”

Sehun scratched the back of his neck. “But, you liked him, right?”

“Honestly, I thought Yixing was ing hot,” Baekhyun grinned. “And I was curious about trying stuff with him, if you know what I mean.” Baekhyun’s grin turned into a mischievous as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively.

Sehun gulped hard, feeling his whole face heat up in embarrassment. Baekhyun laughed lightly, shaking his head from side to side.

“Enough about me,” he said, standing up. “We should workout.”

“Hyung?” Baekhyun hummed as he searched inside his closet. “If there were a chance, would you get together with Yixing?”

Baekhyun froze in the midst of picking out a sweatshirt. He remained silent for a few seconds before continuing to pick out clothes. “I don’t think it’s really up to me, Sehun,” he replied while selecting a pair of shorts. “Why’d you ask?”

Sehun looked at the board, focusing on the white pieces lined up on g column. “Well, you’re trying to help Lu Han and me. What’s keeping you from trying to find your own happiness?”

Baekhyun walked back towards him, dropping the clothes on the chair. “I have one goal in mind, and I will do everything I have to to reach it,” he said resolutely, shoulders high and squared. “Whatever happens to me doesn’t matter, because as long as I reach my goal I’ll be happy.”

Something heavy and hostile sunk in Sehun’s stomach. Baekhyun’s determined look awfully resembled Mama’s.

He shifted his attention to the chessboard again, and then back to Baekhyun. “You’re really that thoughtful? Or is this some kind of game she’s got you playing?” He heard himself say before he fully processed his thoughts.

There was a moment of shocked silence shared between them. Baekhyun looked upset, while Sehun felt confused with what he said. He didn’t know where the thought came from, and that was unsettling.

He wanted to retract his words and apologize, but Baekhyun spoke first.

“I do care about you guys,” he said earnestly.

Sehun felt guilt twist in his gut. “Sorry, I don’t know why-”

“Don’t,” Baekhyun interrupted. “It’s okay, I can take it,” he smiled reassuringly.

“I shouldn’t have said that.”

“It’s okay,” he insisted. “I…I know you guys are going to doubt me because of my relationship with Mama.”

“Hyung-”

Baekhyun lifted his hand to silence him. “It’s inevitable. Whether you want to or not, you’ll doubt her, and therefore you’ll doubt me.” He let out a small chuckle, “I know this, yet it still surprises me.”

“I didn’t mean what I said,” Sehun tried again. “I wasn’t thinking.”

Baekhyun reached forward for his hand. “I’m trying to make things better, not just for Lu Han and you, but for everyone.”

“Why?” Sehun whispered. “Why are you doing this?”

Baekhyun’s eyes seemed to sparkle. “Because I’m tired of hiding. I’m tired of sitting around and doing nothing.” He squeezed his hand before letting go. “This is our life, Sehun, and it’s time to live it. To fight for what we deserve.”

Sehun nodded, bottom lip between his teeth. He knew what Baekhyun meant, he knew the feeling all too well. Three years he had spent living a lie, hidden away from the forces that prevented him from uniting with his group. He had spent most of that time in his room, reading books to escape his bitter reality, meeting with friends and family he could count with the fingers of a single hand.

He hadn’t been living his life, but rather waiting for time to pass. And he had grown tired of waiting.

Sehun startled when Baekhyun threw a shirt to his face.

“Get dressed. I’ll see you at the gym.”

Before going to the makeshift gym, Sehun wanted to check up on Junmyeon. He was resting at the bottom of the tank, asleep. The lesions in his skin were still there, but he hadn’t lost more skin. Overall he looked healthier, but slowly recuperating.

What caught Sehun’s attention was the water level. It was higher now, occupying most of the tank’s volume, leaving a small space for air that couldn’t possibly be enough for Junmyeon to stick his head out.

Sehun tapped the tank’s monitor, searching for the settings, but a hand grabbed onto his shoulder, making him jump startled. he turned to find a sweaty Baekhyun looking back at him.

“Leave it,” he ordered in a calm manner. “It’s better for him to be completely submerged. Stops the skin from drying and falling apart.”

“But-”

“Come on,” Baekhyun pulled him by the arm. “He needs to rest.”

Sehun let himself be escorted to the gym room. Minseok was already inside, using the bar to do a series of pull ups. Baekhyun picked up a skipping rope by the bench press and handed it to him, instructing him to warm up. Baekhyun took his place at the treadmill, putting his earphones on and set to run.

Sehun wasn’t much of a fan of jumping rope, he much preferred swimming. They continued in silence, each focused on their on exercise, but Sehun noticed how Baekhyun seemed to struggle to get back into rhythm. Sehun watched him through the mirrored wall, seeing how he’d slow down his pace, out of breath and even stop to stretch his legs.

He thought Baekhyun would give up, but he jumped back on the treadmill and set a running pace. It was strange how Baekhyun would hit at his abs and breath out a couple of times, and repeat every now and then until he was completely focused. It looked like Baekhyun wasn’t running in the room, but someplace far in his mind.

When Minseok finished his reps, he joined Sehun in training together, going through a series of exercises for agility and endurance. At some point Minseok had to remove Baekhyun from the treadmill to get him to participate. And then they ended the session after some playful sparing.

Later that day Sehun went to the kitchen to join Minseok and Daniel. The elder was enjoying a beer while the younger was attempting to eat three different dishes simultaneously.

Sehun stepped behind Daniel and reached out to pat his head, but Daniel tensed, snarling gravely to keep him away. He circled his arms around his plates, guarding them from Sehun.

“Don’t,” Minseok said, and Sehun wasn’t sure if he was referring to him or Daniel.

Sehun made his way to the other side of the table to sit across from them, and only then that he was in front of Daniel, the other relaxed and resumed eating.

“He doesn’t like it when people get close to his food,” Minseok explained while he kept his attention on the younger boy. “Had many fights to feed himself.”

Sehun stared at the younger boy in front of him, trying to school his feature from showing any pity. It was hard to not feel sympathetic towards Daniel, there were too many things about him that made Sehun sad.

Minseok let out a suspiration, and Daniel looked at him with wide, careful eyes, as if he knew that long sigh was because of him.

“He doesn’t like people near his food, yet he doesn’t eat if I’m not around,” Minseok said, leaning his head onto his hand.

Daniel smiled proudly, with a bean sprout stuck on his chin.

Minseok rolled his eyes. “You’re such a big baby,” he mocked without spite. And Daniel pouted just to prove him right.

“He sure eats a lot,” Sehun noted, crossing his arms on top of the table.

“That, he does,” Minseok said raising his beer and taking a sip. “Do you want anything?”

Sehun shook his head, “I’m good.”

“How are you, uhh, how are you feeling?” Minseok asked awkwardly.

Sehun slumped forward onto his arms. “I’m alright, I guess. I’ve been distracted, so I haven’t thought much about him.”  It wasn’t entirely true, but there were so many other things worrying his mind other than Lu Han.

“Yeah, I get what you mean,” Minseok said. “There’s a lot going on, it’s kind of hard to keep up with everything.”

“Actually, there’s umm,” he hesitated, looking from Minseok to Daniel and back. “There’s something on my mind.”

“What is it?”

“Were there more like Daniel?” he asked cautiously.

Daniel tensed up, dropping his spoon. He looked between confused and hurt, as if Sehun had just insulted him. “Only one Daniel,” he said sternly, and then picked up his spoon to continue eating.

“Let’s talk some other time,” Minseok said softly, dismissing the question.

Sehun decided against it, feeling he needed to say what he wanted before he’d forget. He focused on closing the air around him and Minseok, creating a pressure barrier to separate them in a bubble.

Minseok felt the shift in the air and looked at him in wonder.

“He can’t hear us like this,” Sehun explained.

Minseok looked even more astounded as Daniel didn’t react to Sehun speaking.

“What is this?”

“Air bubble.”

“Neat,” Minsesk nodded in approval. “There were more,” he answered without wasting time. “Daniel doesn’t like talking about them.”

“I figured,” he commented. “What happened to them?”

“They didn’t...make it.”

Sehun gulped hard. “Why?”

Minseok shook his head, eyes cast down. “They were trained to attack, and the agents were trained to defend,” he said with a shrug.

Sehun felt a pang of sadness as he looked back at the unsuspecting Daniel.

“Hyung, Mama said that, that there will probably be clones like him.” Sehun waited for a reply, but Minseok shifted his attention to stare at Daniel. “She said they’d be worse than him. I don’t know if she meant behavior or abilities, but it worries me.” Minseok stayed silent. “Hyung, what should we do?”

Daniel looked up suddenly. He looked startled and raised a hand to touch the air barrier between him and Minseok. Minseok made a hand gesture for Sehun to take down the bubble.

“That, what-”

“We’re going on a another mission to find one of my friends,” Minseok cut in, speaking cheerfully. “We’re going to find him like we found Sehun.”

Daniel perked up, smiled spreading through his face. “I’m good finding. I’m search dog.”

Minseok flinched and Sehun stared in shock. Daniel worried, noticing he did something wrong, but Minseok was quick to smile again.

“It’s what you’re best at,” he encouraged, but Daniel turned his attention to the side. “We’re going tomo-”

Baekhyun’s loud voice interrupted him. He came marching into the kitchen, loudly singing the birthday song, holding and eclair with a candle on it.

“Happy birthday, dear Kim Minseok!”

“What the ?”

“Happy birthday to you!” Baekhyun cheered, presenting the eclair in front of Minseok with a -eating grin.

Sehun tried to contain his laughter as Minseok stared at the French pastry, unamused.

“Blow it.”

Instead, he reached forward and killed the fire between his fingers. “My birthday is tomorrow,” he grumble as he received the eclair.

“Yeah, well I was feeling festive today,” Baekhyun said and sat on top of the table, right next to Daniel.

Sehun and Minseok both got concerned as Daniel tensed up again. Baekhyun was quick to notice the tension, but instead of backing off, he stuck his hand right in front of Daniel’s face. Daniel’s attention was drawn to his hand, he sniffed at it a few times and then relaxed. Baekhyun patted his head and Daniel smiled.

Baekhyun did a little bow from where he sat. “I’m Baekhyun.”

Daniel did the same, ducking his head respectfully. “Me Daniel.”

“You like eclair?” Baekhyun asked, pointing the pastry Minseok had.

Daniel sniffed the air. “Smell nice.”

“Sweet.” Daniel nodded in agreement. “You want?”

Daniel looked down at the reaming food in his plates, at the pastry in Minseok’s hands and then back at Baekhyun. He nodded with expectant eyes.

“Hyung, give it,” he beckoned.

“But it’s my present,” Minseok mumbled annoyed, but handed over the eclair to Daniel either way.

“Good?” Baekhyun asked.

Daniel furiously nodded, mouth stuff with the sweet pastry. He reached up to offer some to Baekhyun, the latter leaned down and took a bite. Baekhyun smiled and nodded in appreciation while Daniel ate the rest of the eclair.

Minseok and Sehun shared a dumbfounded look.

“I wanted some,” Minseok whispered disappointed.

“I’ll give you one for your real birthday,” Baekhyun said nonchalantly.

“What about me?” Sehun complained.

“What do you want to eat?”

“Sushi.”

“Deal.”

Baekhyun then reached to play with Daniel’s hair as the younger continued eating his food. Sehun observed how taken aback Minseok looked, and Sehun understood why. Just moments ago Daniel hadn’t let him get near him because he was eating, but he had quickly accepted Baekhyun despite never meeting him before.

“Wanna see what I do?” Baekhyun asked the younger.

He stuck his hand in front of Daniel again, and emitted colored light from the tips of his fingers, wiggling them to make the rays move. Daniel jumped excitedly in his seat, reaching out to play with his hand.

“Daniel hear well, right?” he asked and Daniel nodded. “Smell well too?” He pointed light to the tip of Daniel’s nose, making him go cross-eyed.

“Yes,” he said with a giggle.

“Stop talking to him like that,” Minseok chided.

Baekhyun saw how serious Minseok was, and nodded. “Sorry.” He turned his attention back to Daniel. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.”

Daniel furiously shook his head and then glared at Minseok, startling the elder. Minseok rolled his eyes and then finished his beer.

“What else can Daniel do?” Baekhyun asked to the younger.

Daniel pointed at his blue eye, “See.”

“He can see beyond the visible light,” Sehun supplied.

“Oh,” Baekhyun uttered. The colored lights disappeared from his fingers, but Daniel still followed them with interest. “Ah, you see UV,” Baekhyun looked at Minseok, “That’s really convenient. Might save someone’s life.”

Sehun frowned confused, immediately noticing Baekhyun hinted that someone was Minseok. “What? What happened?”

Minseok’s gaze turned cold. He crushed the beer can in his hand, startling Daniel. Baekhyun took the hint, and kept his hands to himself, telling Daniel to finish his meal to stop him from playing again.

“Anyway, I just wanted to tell you that everything’s arranged for tomorrow. You’ll be arriving at night, but we’ve got the address, so it won’t be a problem,” Baekhyun explained calmly.

Minseok nodded, “Good.”

“And, hyung, give him time. A couple of days if necessary,” Baekhyun requested. “I already spoke with Junmyeon, he said he can wait.”

“Can he really wait?” Minseok doubted.

Baekhyun nodded. “As long as he’s in the tank and medicated, he’ll be alright.” He stood up to leave. “Just don’t rush him, please.”

“Alright.”

-March 26th, 2015. Kunming, Yunnan 22:12.

The day that had been painstakingly long finally came to an end.

Yixing’s mind buzzed from the overload of information, the new faces, the same greetings and empty words he repeated over and over again. His mind felt exhausted, but he still moved mechanically, helping out with cleaning duties.

His insides stirred from the smell of almonds that still lingered from the body every time he got near the coffin. He never dared to ask if anyone else could smell it or  if it was just his sensitive nose.

Yixing hadn’t really known what to expect from a funeral, and he wouldn’t dare say he enjoyed the experience. It had been down right exhausting. Once he had gotten to the Huang household, he immediately helped with whatever he could. He had helped with receiving the guest, accommodating the floral arrangements, serving tea, and making sure there was always an incense burning. Huang Bo, Huang Lei’s cousin, had been the most helpful guiding Yixing and taking care of the visitors. While Honglei, Huang Lei’s best friend, had proven once again to be unreliable with menial work. He had spent the whole wake chatting up the visitors.

Huang Lei had been more composed than what Yixing expected, which only made the man even more admirable to him. If there’s anything he learned from observing his mentor, was that funerals took a lot of decisions, paperwork, bills and emotional strength.

“Hey, kid.” Yixing felt a strong hand on his shoulder. He looked up from the table he was cleaning to find the trustworthy Huang Bo by his side. “Huang Lei went to leave his wife and kids over to an aunt’s house so they can be more comfortable for the night,” he informed and Yixing nodded. “I was thinking that it’d be good for him to stay out for an hour or two, get his mind off being here.”

“He should stay over the aunt’s house then.”

“No, no. He’s the only son, he must stay here for the night,” the older man explained. “There’s a tea shop close by. And old family friend runs the place, he’ll keep it open for you guys.”

Yixing blinked a few times, finally understanding. “You’re not coming with us?”

Huang Bo shook his head. “Someone needs to stay.”

“I should stay.”

“No, I think you need some air too, kid,” he said with a smile, patting his back. “Just make sure that fool, Sun Honglei, pays this time, okay? He’s the eldest, not you. You shouldn’t be paying for his .”

Yixing chuckled, remembering the many times he’d been swindled by the eldest. “Okay.”

The tea shop was only a few blocks away. They decided to walk over to enjoy the cold night. The shop was quaint, furnished top top bottom with wood. Wooden tables, wooden chairs, wooden decorations. The place was empty except for the owner, a man who looked like he could really use some sleep.

He guided them to a table and left to brew some ginseng tea. The trio remained quiet at first. Huang Lei was deep in thought, staring unfocused at his hands propped on top of the table, Honglei fidgeted in his seat, restless as ever, hands playing with his glasses. Yixing just watched, feeling the anxiety and worry seep out of both men.

He reached forward and held onto both of their hands, soothing their bodies and easing their worries away. Honglei smiled at him with gratitude, while Huang Lei took longer to realized what was happening.

“I wish you would’ve told me before,” Yixing spoke softly once he had the older man’s attention. “I could’ve helped. You know I could’ve helped.”

Huang Lei shook his head, patting Yixing’s hand. “My old man knew the business like the back of his hand,” he said with a sad smile. “He didn’t want to be helped. He just wanted to rest.”

“Taking cyanide isn’t resting,” Yixing said, earning a shove from Honglei.

“Don’t say that,” the eldest reprimanded.

“Let him be,” Huang Lei intervened.

“He can’t just speak like that after your father…” Honglei said frustrated.

“I’m sorry,” Yixing apologized, hangin his head low. “It’s just that…”

“Go on,” Huang Lei encouraged.

Yixing gulped, feeling Honglei warning gaze on him. “Death isn’t the same as resting.”

Honglei grunted annoyed, hiding his face behind his hands and he mumbled a string of curses. Huanglei stared at him, round eyes clearly hurt from his brutal honesty, but then he managed to find the strength to smile again.

“I know. I’m just a hopeful fool.”

Yixing wanted to say otherwise, wanted to tell the man who inspired him that he could never be a fool in his eyes. But Yixing remained quiet, feeling he had already spoken more than he should have.

The owner came by at that moment of silence, serving them steaming hot tea. Yixing chugged down a cup, letting the liquid scald his insides and knowing full well it would take a little longer to heal -but he welcomed the pain, it was distracting.

“He left a note,” Huang Lei said after a while. The others remained silent, waiting for him to continue, which he did after a long suspiration. “He, he had been sick for a while, but he never told me how bad it really was.” Huang Lei rubbed his face, keeping himself from crying. “Everytime I asked, he’d say was his heartburn acting up again. But is was cancer. He shook as he took in a breath. “It was advanced, and he said, he said that he didn’t want to get treatment that won’t save his life and bury his son and his family in debt. He said that he didn’t have mom anymore, and saw it was to leave quietly.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Honglei quickly tried to sooth. “He didn’t want you to worry about his illness. He didn’t want you to be in charge of taking care of him. You know he always preferred you look out for your own family instead.”

“But is it honorable?” Huang Lei asked, shoulders shaking as he finally was starting to break. “Is it honorable to take your own life?” He shook his head, “He should’ve stayed. If not for me, then for my little girls. He should’ve have stayed to be their grandfather and watch them grow.”

Honglei loudly set his cup on the table, startling the other two. His face was dead serious, the most stern Yixing had ever seen him be.

“It is honorable,” he said, raising his gaze high. “As a single man, I can tell you that the worst fear is to die alone. Your father chose to end his life, knowing that there was no saving his life, only prolonging it, and that doing so brought greater consequences than what he was willing to take on.” Honglei took in a big breath. “Your father made the hardest choice a human can make, and those who loved him should respect his choice and see the honor in it.”

Yixing stared in awe, for it was rare to see the elder speak so eloquently and passionately. Huang Lei looked down at the tea cup in his hands, considering the wise words spoken by the eldest.

Honglei took a sip from his tea. “It is honorable to take the hardest choice. And it would be selfish to make someone stay longer than he needs.”

Yixing felt a heavy sensation stir in the pit of his gut. He looked down at his left arm, where his sleeve was rolled up from cleaning. He remembered the image of red, so much red gushing out of his pale arms.

“What if one outlives the rest?” He questioned, voice sounding distant, even to himself. “If one lives longer than needed, longer than a lifetime, wouldn’t that be selfish as well?”

An alarmed look of concern flashed through Huang Lei’s gaze, sharing a moment of worry with the eldest.

“Can you give us a moment?” he requested.

Honglei pouted, “You and your secretes,” he mumbled. He finished his tea and stood up. “I knew I’d be third-wheeling. I should’ve stayed with Huang Bo,” he muttered as he left to the back of the shop, where the owner was napping.

Huang Lei didn’t speak at first, making Yixing feel nervous. He could sense the tension in the other’s shoulders, silence stretching out as the man pondered over his thoughts. Yixing didn’t dare break the silence, he respected the man too much to interrupt whatever thought process he was going through.

“Zhixiang called me this morning. He told me what you did.” Yixing looked down, hanging his head low as he didn’t dare look at Huang Lei as he spoke. “I thought you were past that, Yixing. That you had finally gotten better.”

“I-”

Huang Lei lifted a hand to silence him. “My father…” He tried to continue. “My father might have decided when to end his life, but he had lived a fulfilled one. He worked himself out of poverty, found love, educated a family, outlived his love.” He paused, smiling to himself a little. “He could’ve stayed a little longer, but that’s what I want.” He sighed, “I do regret many things, like not having the chance to say goodbye, but my father lived a good life, with all it’s challenges, with all the pain, with all the darker moments; as well as all the accomplishments, all the love and all the bright and beautiful things we cherish.” Huang Lei smiled proudly, “My father was an honorable and loved man. He lived a great life.”

Huang Lei reached out, placing his warm hand on Yixing’s shoulder. “As for you, my dear Old Zhang Guo, you are a special one with a purpose in life that defies the common,” he said, using the affectionate nickname he had given to Yixing long ago. “If it’s in your nature to outlive the rest of us, it is not out of selfishness but out of the essence of your existence. Don’t dare put yourself at fault for being who you are.”

Yixing’s heart felt like it was breaking. He launched forward searching for comfort in Huang Lei’s warm embrace, hitting the table in the rushed process.

“As long as you are loved and happy in this life, Yixing, then it’s an honorable life.”

Yixing hugged the elder man a little tighter, copying the tranquil feeling Huang Lei was emitting to calm himself down. There was affection and sincerity in the elder’s wise words, that made Yixing appreciate their friendship more than he believed possible. He felt he could rely on this man like he could rely on a father.

“I’m not sorry to interrupt this disgustingly cute scene.” Honglei’s sarcastic voice caught them both by surprise. He was standing right by the table, with his cell phone in his hand. “But Yixing’s got a phone call.”

Yixing looked up at Honglei with confusion. “But I left my phone back at Huang Lei’s father’s house.”

“Of course you did,” Honglei rolled his eyes. He passed his cell phone to the younger.

The first thing Yixing noticed was Zhixiang’s face zoom in on the screen, and it wasn’t until he heard Zhixiang’s voice through the speaker that he realized it was a video call.

“Yixing! ing finally,” Zhixiang said relieved.

“What’s going on?”

“Your friends are here,” Zhixiang said and then the image shifted and lagged.

Yixing furrowed his brows as he tried to make sense of the pixelated image, until it finally cleared up to something understandable.

He nearly jumped out of his seat as he saw Minseok, standing in the middle of his living room, with a guy he’d never seen before standing behind him, waving awkwardly at the camera.

Yixing realized at that moment, that it was time to leave.

-March 27th, 2015. Paris 01:01.

Baekhyun waited outside the sterile room, at the left section of the laboratory. It was late and he was tired, but he wasn’t ready to go back to his room. He needed to stay up long enough to find Sehun fast asleep.

Mama opened the door, stepping out of the sterile zone. She was wearing her white lab coat, and she had her hair tied up. She noticed him as she pulled off her face mask, but said nothing as she made her way towards the closet room where the test subjects were kept.

Baekhyun huffed annoyed, but made his way into the room with her. The smell of urine and hamster substrate used for bedding was strong, Baekhyun hated it. The little mice squeaked, running around in their small cages. Baekhyun didn’t like how Mama kept four mice per cage.

“I had to put down three mice today,” Mama said casually as she checked a cage. “They got hostile and attacked each other.”

“Why?”

“That’s the tricky thing about confinement,” she said as she open the lid, “It makes you go mad.”

Baekhyun’s stomach turned as he watched one fruitlessly gnaw the metal bars, trying to escape it’s enclosure.    

Mama was quick to pick out a mouse, gripping it from the skin on his neck and back to keep it immobilized. She put the mouse in a glass box that was connected to a machine through a tube.

“This is an isoflurane vaporizer,” she said, as she turned it on.

Baekhyun heard how the pressurized gas travel through the tube and into the glass box where the mouse was at. The mouse was trying to find a way out, searching at the corners and reaching up towards the lid. Almost a minute after, the mouse began to stumble, falling over every now and then, but never giving up, until it fell and couldn’t stand anymore.

Baekhyun watched, stomach tight. He could see the rodent trying to get up again. He could see how it began to breathe faster, see how its ribs expand and contract so forcefully that it’s whole body moved with each shallow breath.

Mama turned off the machine before picking the mouse out of the glass box and putting it inside a small transportation box.

“Is it dead?” Baekhyun asked.

Mama rolled her eyes. “It’s not dead, it’s asleep.” She walked out of the closet room. “Isoflurane is an anaesthesia.”

“Oh.”

They sat at a workstation, where Mama settled the mouse on top of a stainless steel tray. She picked up the skin on the back up the mouse with her forceps and the proceeded to cut a big piece off with surgical scissors. Baekhyun stared appalled as the back muscles were exposed, but his shock grew as he watched Mama slice a piece of muscle with a scalpel, cutting through blood vessels and causing the mouse to bleed out.

She moved quick, picking up a vial and dousing the wound with the serum.

Baekhyun watched amazed as the muscle tissue began to close up, and soon the skin fully regenerated as well, closing up the wound without leaving perceivable scars, since the hair grew back to cover any indication of harm. It was as Mama never opened the mouse up in the first place.

“If the wound is opened and exposed to the bloodstream like this, then dousing with serum is enough for it to penetrate through and repair the damage,” she explained as she cleaned up. “Injecting the serum is better for deeper wounds though, whether exposed or not.”

“It lived,” Baekhyun said amazed, observing the sleeping mouse with heat vision to see it live and well. 

“That’s the point,” Mama chuckled and then pointed at the mouse. It stretched its limbs outwards, curving its back and swaying its tail as it began to wake up. 

“Does it work well now for us to use?” he asked.

“It should. But I haven’t tried it yet.” Mama put the mouse back inside the transportation box.

Mama left to put the mouse back in its cage, taking the dirty tray with her, but Baekhyun didn’t follow. He stared at the rack with the vial and had the worst idea of all.

He picked up the scalpel, but Mama had removed the used blade. He searched for a new one from the box, but he didn’t know how to hook it on. Mama came back and wordlessly helped put the blade on. She sat by him, waiting to see what he would do next.

Baekhyun placed his left arm on top of the table, palm facing upwards and exposing the inner side. He gulped nervously as he stared at his skin. His heartbeat sped up, he fisted his hand to gather strength to move. Baekhyun lowered the scalpel until the blade was hovering above his skin.

“Make it deep,” Mama said. “I already know it works for shallow cuts.”

He hesitated. “How deep?”

“Muscle deep,” she answered. “It would be even more interesting if you slice through a whole flexor.”

“I don’t know where they are,” Baekhyun said, feeling frustrated. “You do it,” he said, offering the scalpel.

Mama took the scalpel from him. She held onto his wrist with her left hand -Baekhyun could feel the compression wrap through her latex glove- and the scalpel with her right. She reached forward, to the inside of his elbow.

She angled the blade towards his arm and gave him a warning look.

“One, two…”

Mama gripped hard on his wrist and applied pressure with her hand, driving the blade deep down. Baekhyun held in his breath as all he felt was pressure.

“Three.”

Mama slid the blade down the length of his arm, never relenting on the pressure, and then quickly pulled away.

Baekhyun’s initial shock was replaced by searing pain. Blood began to gush out quickly. Baekhyun seethed through his teeth as he tried to raise his injured arm. His hand fell backwards, limp. No matter what he did, he couldn’t straighten his arm, much less raise his hand. He grabbed his arm, trying to put pressure on the wound to ease the pain.

Mama plunged the syringe next to the laceration with her right hand, while starting a chronometer with her left.

Baekhyun felt his arm burning up and gritted his teeth, grunting in pain as his muscles began to regenerate. He kept holding his arm as it fully healed, leaving a long smooth scar to remember the gruesome experience.

“Twenty-three seconds,” Mama informed once she stopped the clock.

“That ing hurt,” Baekhyun complained, rubbing at his skin where it still felt like if it was burning.

“But it works fast, meaning it could save you from worse,” she explained with a content smile. “Want to try?”

“ no,” he barked.

Mama laughed and ruffled his hair. “This was brave of you.”

“Yeah, and I’m never doing it again.”

“How do you feel?” she asked as she cleaned up the station.

“Like I’ve been stabbed and burned,” he deadpanned. “It still burns.”

“Alright,” she said, pulling her gloves off. “Anything else? Anything to worry about?”

Baekhyun stared at her in disbelief. “You mean, other than it burns?”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Good.”

Baekhyun sighed, thumb running up and down his new scar. “Can we use it on Junmyeon?”

Mama shook her head. “Junmyeon’s skin is too different. It might not cause the same reaction or not harm him at the same degree, but I don’t want to take the risk.”

“We need Yixing,” Baekhyun said almost defeatedly.

“Yes. I’ve written out instructions for him, not only to heal Junmyeon, but to change the composition of his skin. That way it will be safe for him to use the serum.”

Her sharp eyes observed him for a moment, and Baekhyun knew it was a chance to act vulnerable. He looked away, as if he couldn’t hold her gaze with his own.

“Who are you worried about now?” She questioned, but didn’t expect an answer from. “Not Junmyeon, you’ve worried enough about him.”

“I do worry about him,” he argued.

“Yixing then,” she continued, ignoring him.

Baekhyun’s expression fell. “What about him?”

“That’s what I’m asking you,” she said instead.

“I’m not worried about Yixing,” he frowned.

“No,” she said, hand reaching up to play with her pendant. “You’re worried about being near him.”

Baekhyun gulped hard, trying to keep his expression stoic. “No, I’m not.”

Mama smiled knowingly, “Yes you are.” She leaned against the counter, propping her chin against her hand. “You still have feelings for him.”

“Nonsense,” Baekhyun denied.

“Uh, huh,” she grinned. “Sure.”

“Fine, don’t believe me.” Baekhyun dramatically sighed, falling slump against the counter.

Baekhyun listened to the soft chiming of Mama’s bell-pendant.

“Mama.”

“Yes?”

“Tell me, what is love?”

She hummed pensively for a moment. “Love is what we make of it.”

Baekhyun frowned confused. “What do you mean by that?”

“It’s an emotion,” she shrugged. “It’s always there. Everchanging. Manifesting in different ways towards different people.”

Baekhyun pondered over her words. “Love is what you make of it,” he said, slowly understanding what she meant.

“It’s already there, but you don’t know until you realize it. You don’t call it love until that feeling towards someone finally makes sense, because you realize it is love, even though it had already been there before.”

“Love is what we make of it. What we acknowledge and make sense of.”

She nodded. “To you a certain person, a certain action, a certain word, can translate into love. But it might not be the same for me.”

“What about, like, universal concepts of love?” Baekhyun wondered.

“They’re clichés, and clichés exist because they’re repetitive,” she explained. “They can be understood and familiarized by the vast majority.”

“Ah, that makes sense,” he commented. He looked and she knew he was up to something. “Did your parents love you?”

She remained silent, thinning her gaze as if she was trying to see what Baekhyun had in mind. “I believe they did.”

Baekhyun raised a brow. “They never told you?”

“Not frequent enough when I lived with them. And I haven’t seen my parents in decades.” She let out a breath, finally easing out. “My sister and I had a different view towards our parents display of affection. She saw it as abuse.”

“It was abuse,” Baekhyun was quick to concur.

She smiled softly. “I know it was, but I understood why they behaved that way.” She rested her hands on her lap. “And I still loved them despite of it all. I still wanted to make my father proud. So, what do you make of that?”

Baekhyun nibbled on his bottom lip. “I don’t know. But isn’t there a limit? A point where the relationship is just damaging?”

“There is,” she agreed. “Being with a person you love, isn’t always the best for you. And it’s wise to know when it’s time to leave.”

“Is that what you did?”

Mama remained quiet, skeptical to what Baekhyun was referring to. And Baekhyun enjoyed that. He like seeing her doubt once in a lifetime.

“Do you think I don’t love you boys because of all the things I made you go through?” she asked instead, voice calm as ever.

Baekhyun stayed silent this time, eyes wide as he tried to read her thermal signature. After a moment too long, he finally spoke.

“You’ve never said you loved me before.”

Mama reached forward and brushed his hair out of his face. “Of course I do,” she said.

But Baekhyun saw differently.

Nevertheless, he had an act to keep up, so he smiled brightly and reached over to hug her smaller frame.

He kissed her cheek. “I love you too,” he said, and truly meant it.

A/N: I know author note’s are kind of boring, that’s why I’m writing this longer one at the end of the chapter instead.

I’ve been trying to finish this chapter for months, I never thought it would take me so long but I’m not spending much time writing. I’m awfully busy with uni, and it’s getting harder to focus on writing.

Things are just going to keep getting harder for me, my professors are making damn sure of that. I don’t want to go on hiatus, but I can’t promise quick updates or monthly updates. I’m thinking of writing shorter chapters though...tell me what you think.

All I ask of you guys is patience.

Thank you.

-B.