His fingers tightly clutched the ragged photo, but he wasn't looking at it, for it was already embedded into his memory. It was the last photo he had ever taken of his sister smiling, her half moon eyes twinkling underneath the haze of the summer sun. 
The subway train suddenly jolted, and the neighboring passengers shoved into him, causing him to wince slightly from the pain. As he was unusually tall, Sehun often found himself gazing at the tops of heads, as he was now. He couldn't say it was the most exciting thing, but at least he had an advantageous perspective in some ways.
His other hand -- the one not carrying the photograph -- was shoved into the pocket of his dark coat, but he lifted it out, revealing two tangerines held tightly in his palm. Was he going to eat them? 
No.
Pointing his index finger up, he slid his falling glasses up the bridge of his nose, lowering his cap afterward. He didn't like making eye contact with anyone who happened to be staring at him; he wasn't being conceited, it was the truth. Finding a very tall, blonde boy with a dark cap probably wouldn't happen to be the most common picture to find in the Seoul subway. 
 Why did he dye his hair blonde anyway? Of all things, it was definitely not something that he had wanted to do.. yet.. 
-
They were standing in front of a hair salon shop during the winter, staring inside with hands shoved into empty, penniless pockets.
"Sehun, if you could dye your hair any color that you want, what color would you change yours to?"
"I don't really want to dye my hair."
"I'd dye mine blonde. Bright blonde. Platinum blonde."
"What?! W-Wha- Are you being serious?"
"Dead serious." 
-
She had wanted her hair to be blonde. It wasn't a choice he had made for himself, but one for her. If only she could see him now.. 
He swallowed a hard lump down, glancing up at the diagram of the train's path. Only one more stop...
Flipping his palm over, he stared at the two tangerines. It was his sister's favorite fruit, and she loved the smell of fresh peeled oranges. Every time he'd visit her, he'd peel two of them: one for her and another for himself. She'd get mad if he didn't eat one, that was why there was always two. 
"Doors opening. Please watch your step. Have a great day!" The cool, automated voice of the machine jerked him awake from his reverie as he realized the doors were opening, allowing people to step out. 
This was his stop, and he hurriedly exi