Its entire body was unresponsive when its mind finally decided to wake, ignoring its wishes as it tried to move its arms. While it still could not feel, it had learned to adapt, and was slowly becoming better at moving around. But without its eyes, any progress would be meaningless, and as such its current predicament left its chest gasping and its mind whirling to try and understand what was happening.

“You do not belong here.”

It stopped, the unfamiliar voice booming in its ears as it tried to figure out where it was coming from. It was not Sang-hyuk, able to recognize the latter’s voice from a soft sigh alone. It was not Seok-jin either—the voice was deep and heavy and filled with a sadness that outweighed Sang-hyuk’s teary voice by far. It tried to open its mouth to answer, to ask who he was and what he wanted, only to find his mouth just as responsive as the rest of his body.

“Everything is wrong. You are too pale. Your eyes are too smooth. Your chest is heavy. It is all wrong.”

It thought back to the image in the mirror, remembering its face and all the details the voice listed, unable to disagree with any of it. When it compared itself to Sang-hyuk, which it was wont to do, it could only notice how bright Sang-hyuk’s eyes were compared to its own, his skin full of life and entire being emitting an exuberance infused with energy. It did not see that in itself, its eyes blank and its skin washed out and sickly.

While unknown, the voice seemed to know more about itself than it did.

“You should not be here. It is so unnatural; I cannot stand to look at you like this.”

It wanted to apologize, to ask for forgiveness for something that it could not control. The face in the mirror twisted and contorted until only a blur remained, so ugly it could not even look at it.

“You should not look like me.”

It wanted, but…

“I am sorry.”

“Y21, baby, can you hear me?”

A smile unknowingly passed over its…his…face when he saw Sang-hyuk beside it, looking around his surroundings to see it—he—was lying on the bed. Sang-hyuk leaned forward as he returned his—its—no, his smile, running his hand through his hair as he repeatedly whispered how happy he was to see it. It instinctively leaned into his touch, its inability to feel unable to stop its body from enjoying Sang-hyuk’s comforting presence.

Sang-hyuk chuckled warmly, its eyes looking up to see him shake his head. “You’re silly, you know that? Always so silly.”

If being silly was what it took, then it would be silly every day.

Sang-hyuk was beautiful when he smiled, when he laughed.

“Y21, baby, do you…do you feel any different today?” It—he—mimicked Sang-hyuk’s expression at the slight waver in Sang-hyuk’s voice, unable to match the uncertainty in his tone to the smile on his face. He wanted to answer, but was unable to decide what Sang-hyuk wanted, waiting instead for him to reword the question so he could understand. Sang-hyuk did exactly that, reaching out and grabbing one of his hands. “Ah, sorry. Is there anything different about your body today?”

“Different?” He lifted his head up slightly to look down at his body, mimicking Sang-hyuk’s expression again when it saw the blanket covering everything up to its chest. It could not tell if anything was expected to be different, but was unsure how to answer when it could not see. His one hand still held in Sang-hyuk’s, it reached out with the other, his fingers barely brushing the fabric when a stilted jolt shot through its entire body, a terrible shout escaping his lips.

“Y21!” Sang-hyuk cried, lurching forward when its whole upper body shot up, its chest heaving as it yanked its hands back, keeping them up in the air and away from everything. Sang-hyuk was careful not to touch its hands, instead gently turning its shoulders so that he could look it in the eye, his fingers bundled in the fabric of its shirt. He looked so…worried. “Y21, are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“I do not know.”

“What? Y21-” Sang-hyuk’s fingers just barely touched its own when that same horrible jolt engulfed his hand in a painful fire, and he ripped himself away so quickly it could hear the loud bang of its body hitting the wall. Sang-hyuk looked horrified, but he could not pay attention to that, too terrified and distracted. He could not feel, his nerves were severed; that was what Sang-hyuk had said. It had spent long hours teaching itself to walk because of it, had been praised by Sang-hyuk because of it; what was suddenly so wrong with his hand?

“Y21, baby, look at me. Please look at me.” He jumped when he heard Sang-hyuk’s hand tap the wrinkled blankets, curling in on himself when he saw him climb onto the bed. Each movement was careful, his eyes running over its body for any change; Sang-hyuk made sure there was a surmountable distance between the two when he sat down, keeping his hands in his lap and his posture relaxed. It did not know how much effect just his posture alone would have, having been trained to feel comfortable when Sang-hyuk sat in such a way.

“Sang-hyuk…” he whispered, his voice shaking, and he could see Sang-hyuk’s body twitch at the sound.

“Y21, everything is going to be okay. But I need you to tell me what’s wrong. What feels different?”

“Hand.”

“What’s wrong with it? Tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll do what I can to fix it.”

“Feel…I can feel and…and it burns. Burns, Sang-hyuk.” It expected Sang-hyuk to be as surprised as it was, though all it saw was Sang-hyuk’s lips pressed tight together, his eyes closed as he let out a long breath. He was not sure what that meant, his mind whirling as he waited for Sang-hyuk to help.

“It burns?” Sang-hyuk asked when he opened his eyes, his frown deep as he stared down into its lap where the trembling hand hid. It nodded, whimpering when Sang-hyuk reached out to take it, and Sang-hyuk paused. He looked so…sad. “Y21, baby, I promise I won’t hurt you. I just need you to trust me; you can do that, can’t you, baby?”

It nodded again, too overwhelmed to speak, and Sang-hyuk gave it a wonderful smile.

“Okay. Now, I’m going to take your hand. I promise I won’t hurt you. It’ll be okay…” Sang-hyuk’s voice trailed off as he crawled over to sit beside it, their knees touching and arms brushing together. When it instinctively flinched back at Sang-hyuk trying to take its hand, he pulled back immediately, instead wrapping an arm around its back. He could hear the sound of Sang-hyuk placing a kiss by its ear.

“You’re so wonderful, Y21. You’re so smart, and brave. I’m so proud of you…you always make me so proud.”

With the sound of Sang-hyuk’s voice singing praises in its ear, his words filling his whole body and making him soar, it was caught completely off guard when Sang-hyuk’s hand carefully slid down and wrapped around his hand. It cried out in surprise at the sudden touch, trying to pull away, but Sang-hyuk held tightly, would not let it go as he began to rub his thumb against its skin.

“You’re so brave, Y21. You make me so proud.”

He let out a long whine as continuous sparks shot up its arm with each time Sang-hyuk moved his thumb, trying his best to get Sang-hyuk’s attention. Sang-hyuk had never treated it like this before; it wanted to ask him why he was doing this, when, little by little, the shock lessened, the touch becoming almost soothing. His small cries lessened as it stared down at their hands, Sang-hyuk never slowing as he continued to rub circles into his hand.  

Sang-hyuk laughed quietly in his ear, giving him another kiss. “I told you, I won’t hurt you.” When it turned to look at him, confused, Sang-hyuk laughed again, tears in his eyes. “I’m sorry, I should’ve told you first. I didn’t think you would have such a shock.”

“I do not understand…”

“Yesterday, do you remember Seok-jin coming in here and putting you to sleep?” It nodded, unsure what he was trying to say, and Sang-hyuk sighed softly. “Y21…I didn’t want anyone to touch you, and I tried my best to keep you safe. There are a lot of bad people in the world, and many of them are watching you, and want to do bad things to you. I tried to stop them, but…I couldn’t.”

It stayed quiet, giving Sang-hyuk as much time as he needed to speak.

“Yesterday…they took you away to…to do a test.”

It ran through all the facial expressions it could make before landing on what it concluded to be an appropriate one, frowning with sad eyes as Sang-hyuk’s fingers tightened around his hand. There was so much stimuli at once, every second sending another spark that shook his brain and flooded his eyes, that he could barely hear Sang-hyuk speak. But he did not want to make Sang-hyuk cry any more than he already had, keeping the worry a secret as it listened the best he could.

“They wanted you to be able to feel again, so they tried to give you a new skin set with the newest nerve settings. The only thing is…your body is still human, and isn’t compatible with what they had. So they…” Sang-hyuk paused for a second, blinking away tears as a short sob escaped his lips, “…they cut off your hand and replaced it with a new one, one that can feel and touch and do everything your old one could before.”

He could hear Sang-hyuk let out a small whimper when he pulled his hand away, narrowing its eyes as it tried to look for anything wrong. Nothing about his hand looked different, the skin the same color as the rest of him and just as flaky. He still had all five fingers, complete with fingernails and wrinkles from where the joints bent and flexed; it all appeared the same until it hesitantly placed its palms together. Almost immediately it could feel the now familiar tremors trail up its right arm, and he ripped his hands apart before he could feel any more, staring in thought.

“So, I can feel now?”

“With just that hand. I…I wouldn’t let them do anything else. I’m sorry, Y21. I didn’t want to do this to you.”

“Why?”

“What?” Sang-hyuk finally looked him in the eye, for the first time looking confused at a question he asked, and it raised its lips in a smile as he leaned forward and placed his hands on Sang-hyuk’s cheeks. One hand was silent as the other raced at the touch, though it fought through it all to keep up his smile, drinking in the sight of Sang-hyuk’s wide eyes and parted lips. Sang-hyuk was so perfect and wonderful, so different from itself, and it felt the sudden urge to protect him, to keep him safe in the same way Sang-hyuk proclaimed to always do.

With measured motions, it leaned forward to place its lips over Sang-hyuk’s, letting its body move on its own. He was only able to tell they touched from the way Sang-hyuk’s jaw jerked under his fingers, pulling away to see Sang-hyuk’s face flushed red. It was not sure what such a color meant, or if it had been the cause of it. It hoped it had not accidentally hurt him.

“I am not sad about the replacement of my hand, so you should not either.”

Sang-hyuk’s brow furrowed, his face scrunching into an expression it could not recognize. There were so many other emotions and expressions it had not yet learned yet, had not seen in the storybooks yet; it wanted to learn them all as soon as possible, if only so he could understand Sang-hyuk that much sooner.

“B-but…you should be sad. They cut off your hand! They cut off your hand and gave you a new one without your permission! They shouldn’t…they shouldn’t do that…not to you…”

It did not understand what Sang-hyuk was so upset about, could not see why replacing what no longer worked was considered wrong. But it would not say this, not when Sang-hyuk was crying in front of it. He determinedly moved his hand up to brush Sang-hyuk’s lashes, gasping at the gentle brush against his fingertips. So thin, so pretty; it matched Sang-hyuk so perfectly.

“Do not be sad, Sang-hyuk. I am so happy, because now I can touch you. Now I can know what you feel like.”

Sang-hyuk’s eyes widened even further, his voice lost and afraid, and it took this time to run his hand all over Sang-hyuk’s face—touching his nose, rubbing his lips, twirling his hair between his fingers. It was all so new, and it laughed as he traced Sang-hyuk’s arms, feeling his shirt and tugging at his pants. Was this what touch felt like? It was so exhilarating. He could not stop touching, his fingers never leaving Sang-hyuk as he continued to laugh.

Sang-hyuk suddenly caught its hand, stopping it cold and effectively ripping his breathlessness straight from his chest. His eyes were sad, his cheeks stained, and it silently berated itself for being so careless while Sang-hyuk cried.

“Do you…do you really think like that?” It watched so many expressions pass over Sang-hyuk’s face all at once, fresh tears slipping down his cheeks when it nodded, and he hung his head. It wanted to apologize, lift Sang-hyuk’s chin up and ask him not cry, when Sang-hyuk smiled, his lips trembling and sad. Sang-hyuk always seemed to be able to smile when he was sad, a feat it was not sure how was possible, and one it wished he did not have.

“Then…I will try to be happy for you.” It blinked when Sang-hyuk shifted his hand to press against its own, interlocking their fingers and squeezing gently. By now his hand was calm at the contact, cool and soft against Sang-hyuk’s warm skin, and it stared at their fingers in silent wonder. They appeared almost made for each other, long and slim as they whitened and shook along with their wishes. While it was not completely sure how he came to be, he felt he would not be upset if it was created for the sole purpose of being by Sang-hyuk’s side.

He waited until the light came back on before slipping off the bed, taking slow, deliberate steps as he trailed his fingers over the edge of the desk, letting his fingertips catch on the lip. His movements were stilted and his eyes unable to look away from its feet, and yet he was able to know everything his hand touched, each brush sending signals to his brain in a way he never knew possible. Having lived in a world where everything existed based on what its eyes and ears could perceive, the realization that its body had the ability to experience the world in a completely new way gave it a rush it could barely contain.

It did not need to imagine Sang-hyuk’s words in its ear as he trailed its fingers over the cabinet doors, letting its fingers pause over the metal handle. This time, it wanted to move for itself, to experiment and see just what its new hand could do.

A small, sharp point at the edge of the cabinet pricked his finger, and he stared in silent wonder as the hole seamlessly sewed closed.

Sang-hyuk had promised him that he would never let anyone touch him again, and while he had thanked him, he could not feel happy about the rest of his body being denied from what there really was to offer. He had tried to imagine what it was like for his entire body to feel like his hand could, though was unable to conjure ideas his brain could not conceptualize. It just left him empty and alone, watching Sang-hyuk move through the room with an easy grace it could never recreate.  

He moved back to the side of his bed, his fingers hesitating over the rough plastic of Sang-hyuk’s chair, when the door suddenly opened. It immediately turned to greet Sang-hyuk, an ingrained habit that always made Sang-hyuk smile, though it paused upon seeing someone else entirely standing by the door.

The man had a youthful appearance, his skin smooth and without any of the wrinkles that seemed permanently etched into Sang-hyuk’s face. His eyes were wide and his lips pursed, his rounded cheeks revealing faint dimples that glistened under the soft light. As it stared, the man’s mouth fell open slightly, the dimples deepening, and it briefly wondered if everyone outside the door was beautiful, imagining Sang-hyuk and how perfect this man would be beside him.

“Hello,” it said when the man made no move to speak, frozen with his hand on the doorknob and one foot already in the room. It wondered if the man had been expecting Sang-hyuk, and was disappointed at only finding itself instead. He wanted to apologize, though did not when the man’s hand on the doorknob tightened, trembling. “Are you looking for Sang-hyuk? He is not here right now. I am sure if you waited, you will see him.”

The man shook his head slightly, and it frowned confusedly. “Do you not want to see him?”

The man hesitated, shaking his head again. “You do not want to see Sang-hyuk?” The man nodded this time, taking a small step back, and it subconsciously took a step toward him, a hand reaching out as if to grab something it could not see. While they both stared at his hand in silence, it was enough to make the man stop. “Did you come to see me?” 

A deep flash of sadness that rivaled Sang-hyuk’s passed over the man’s face, a reaction it did not recognize and so instead smiled widely. He tried to remember all that Sang-hyuk taught it as he attempted to brighten his face the way Sang-hyuk’s would when he smiled, letting its hand slip from Sang-hyuk’s chair and clench the soft fabric of its shirt.

“Really? You came to see me?” The man still refused to answer but it paid that no attention, stumbling forward a few steps only to stop when the man scrambled back. “Did you need anything? I am not able to do much, but I will help you if I can. Do you—would you like to sit down? I am sure Sang-hyuk would not mind if you used his chair.” It tripped over itself trying to get to the man, missing the look of sheer panic on the other’s face as it caught itself, using its good hand to support itself as it stood back up.

By then the man’s face was blank again, watching as it tried to bring up its smile again. “Sorry, I am still learning how to walk.” He waited for the man to say something, anything, and wondered if it had said something to have caused the man to stay so silent. It had never had any experience creating conversation outside of Sang-hyuk’s daily tests, even then never initiating conversation on his own. It would not know if it said something to upset the man, and would have no idea how to visually tell if the man was unhappy.

However, before he was able to try anything, another face appeared in the doorway, it recognizing Sang-hyuk immediately. It was unable to greet him when Sang-hyuk looked down at the man, who now appeared as if he wanted to run away.

“T52? What are you doing here?”

“He came to see me,” it answered when the man made no move to respond, and Sang-hyuk’s expression fell as he let out a soft sigh, a hand coming up to rest on the man’s shoulder. T52 jumped at the touch, stepping away, and it wondered if they knew each other. Sang-hyuk seemed to know everybody, so knowledgeable about the world and experienced with how to use it, that it would not be confused if they had some relation. Sang-hyuk opened his mouth to say something when T52 shoved him aside and ran, the muted padding of his footsteps fading along with him.

He watched Sang-hyuk slowly shut the door behind him before looking up to see it still standing by the desk, his hand supporting his body weight, and it wrenched its hand back. A small smile grew on Sang-hyuk’s lips, running a hand through his hair as he walked over to it, chuckling.

“What are you doing?”

It did not answer as it sat back down on the bed and assumed its normal position, its back straight and its hands placed firmly on its knees. From Sang-hyuk’s confused questions and the man, T52’s, reaction, the only possible conclusion it could come to was that T52 was not supposed to have been here. It made sense, considering how T52 refused to speak and appeared afraid at the sight of him. It did not want to do something it was not allowed to do, and did not want to see Sang-hyuk upset. It only wanted to make him proud.  

Sang-hyuk frowned, sitting down, his hands moving forward as if to touch it but pulling away in the end. “Hey, did he say anything to you? What’s wrong?” It was unsure what he was asking, unable to discern the correct answer and did not speak. Sang-hyuk hissed softly as he carefully reached out and took its hand, his lips tight when it let out a small gasp at the touch.

Sang-hyuk’s hands…they were so different from anything in the room, so soft and gentle.

“Y21, do you know who that man was?” That was a question it understood, able to answer appropriately and recognize the sadness on Sang-hyuk’s face. It did not want to mention the strange familiarity its body felt at the sight of T52, nor did it want to mention how beautiful it thought he was. Such thoughts were not what Sang-hyuk asked, nor did they seem to be things he would want to hear. When he saw Sang-hyuk take a deep breath, smiling widely, it knew it had made the right decision.

“His name is T52, he’s another one of the…people who stay here.”

“Stay?”

“Yes. He lives here just like you do.” He lifted their hands up, interlocking their fingers and pressing a soft kiss to their knuckles. “He’s just like you.”

Its brows furrowed at the implications behind Sang-hyuk’s words. “You do not live here?”

Sang-hyuk blinked, his mouth hanging open confusedly until he understood the question, his laugh shaky. “Ah, no. I don’t live here. My home is a few floors down. I come upstairs just to see you.” His hand moved up to run through its hair, though it could focus on nothing but the fact that Sang-hyuk did not live in the same place as itself. He pulled his hand away, paying no attention to the surprise on Sang-hyuk’s face as he refused his touch.

Sang-hyuk was his entire world, the only thing he knew was real. Seok-jin, this new T52—they were not the same as Sang-hyuk. Sang-hyuk was the first person it remembered, was the majority of the memories it had; he did not know what to do if Sang-hyuk one day disappeared.

But to hear he did not live here, that he lived somewhere else and only came up to see it…it appeared Sang-hyuk did not think the same.

Sang-hyuk hissed lowly, shifting in his chair as he opened and closed his mouth, his expression one that it could not read. “I…Y21…that’s not what I meant.” Sang-hyuk eventually placed a hand on his knee. “Y21, please don’t be angry. I…I can’t live on this floor. But if I could, I would. I wish I could be with you, I want to be with you…please don’t be angry at me. I can’t handle it if you’re angry at me.”

“I am not angry,” he responded, his voice barely above a whisper, matching Sang-hyuk’s soft, pleading tone. “I do not understand what my body feels.”

Sang-hyuk nodded, making sure he was okay before taking his hand again. It was something Sang-hyuk began to do a lot, always touching so it would have the chance to feel. “It will be like that for a long time. But like I promised, I will be here every step of the way. I want you to be happy…but I can’t give it to you like I want. That’s why…” Sang-hyuk’s voice trailed off as he stared down at their hands, opening its hand and tracing its palm, “…you should try and be friends with T52.”

“Friends?”

“Yes.” Sang-hyuk’s smile was small, his eyes wet, and it knew he was about to cry. Sang-hyuk always cried so easily. “I can’t be here all the time, and when I’m not you just sit here all by yourself. But T52, he lives here. You can see each other every day and hang out, play games, and all kinds of stuff. He would be so much better than terrible me—you should try and be friends with him.”

“I do not think that you are terrible.”

Sang-hyuk chuckled, the sound cracking. “Thank you, baby. But really, you know I can’t be here all the time. I have to go to work and go home, what do you do when I’m not here?” He took its silence for his answer, nodding. “T52 can be here anytime you want to see him. You can’t leave your room yet, but T52 could come see you whenever you want. He would be a perfect friend for you.”

He blinked as he tried to comprehend everything Sang-hyuk rushed him with, matching Sang-hyuk’s smile when it could not determine which expression would be appropriate for its response. “You want him to be my friend so that he can be here when you are not?”

“Yes,” Sang-hyuk laughed, squeezing his hand.

“Then I will.” If it made Sang-hyuk happy, then he would try. It only wanted to make him proud. And yet— “My friend; you want him to be my friend so that he could…hang out with me, play with me, and keep me company.” It kept its matching smile as it asked slowly, “Then, do you have a friend?”

Sang-hyuk’s first reaction was to shoot out of his seat, hurriedly walking over to the other end of the room and burying his face in his hands, slamming his head against the wall. He had never seen such a reaction from Sang-hyuk before, the man always calm and collected regardless of what he asked. It ran over what it could have said to cause such a reaction, watching Sang-hyuk critically when his shoulders heaved, his body hunched over and his normally matted hair a mess.

It did not like the sound of Sang-hyuk crying, sobs that sounded forced and real, so different from the little whimpers he would let out whenever it did something wrong. When Sang-hyuk began to cough, his hands moving up to tangle in his hair, it crawled off the bed, its hand out and keeping against the desk for support as it made its way over to Sang-hyuk’s side. Sang-hyuk did not see or hear him, his head still against the wall, and it took that moment of distraction to let its body guide itself, its arms instinctively wrapping around Sang-hyuk’s waist. Sang-hyuk stopped mid-sob, his hands pulling away from his hair and turning enough to look down at it, his eyes rimmed red.

“Y21-”

“Do not cry.” Sang-hyuk silently turned away, knocking his head on the wall again and staying so still it had to lean forward to make sure he was still awake. “I did not mean to bring unwanted memories. I will not ask again. Please do not cry.”

“No, it’s not your fault. I did—I-I do have a friend, yes. Sorry, I didn’t mean to react like that.”

“Did something happen to your friend? Do you see him often?”

“I…no…not anymore.” Sang-hyuk took that moment to unwrap himself from its arms, turning around and pulling him close against his body, his back flush against the wall. He pressed its head to his chest, his body stiff, and it stayed completely still as it allowed him to do what he wanted. It could hear him breathe, each sound rushing past its ears, and it wondered if the topic of his friend had been the cause of such sadness.

“I…I’m going to tell you a story, one that is my favorite. There…there was once a little boy that lived in the woods. He was a small, scared little boy, and the woods were very big and very thick, so the sun rarely could make it to his little house. He spent all his time there, and he was very lonely.

“But the little boy had one friend that kept him company so he wasn’t alone. The little boy loved his friend a lot. But the friend couldn’t come very often, so he was still lonely. He always dreamed of going outside and exploring the world, but he was too scared to leave.”

It tried to look up at him, wanting to see the expressions Sang-hyuk would make when telling a story, since he was unable to imagine without the pictures to guide his thoughts. But Sang-hyuk pushed its head back down, forcing it still.

“The little boy’s father was a very mean man, and didn’t want anyone to see the little boy. One day, when the little boy’s friend was visiting, the man found him, and was furious. He cursed the friend, demanding him to leave and never come back. The little boy’s friend was very brave, and tried to defend the little boy, saying he had every right to stay. He accused the father of not loving the little boy, and the friend declared he would take care of him.

“The little boy’s father was so angry he couldn’t speak, slapping the friend’s face and grabbing him by the back of the neck. The friend was still very brave, refusing to listen as he cried for the little boy. The little boy was so useless, so scared, and he watched his father drag his friend out of the house. The friend’s head was bleeding and the little boy cried, hiding his face in his blankets.

“By then the friend couldn’t speak anymore, in so much pain and afraid of the little boy’s father. He stood outside the little house but did not go inside when the father slammed the door shut. The little boy watched him from the window but didn’t say anything, crying pathetically to himself when the friend eventually left.”

It listened to Sang-hyuk’s story intently, some of the descriptions so detailed it could not fully understand. His voice was slow, full of emotions it had never heard before. It wrapped its hand in Sang-hyuk’s coat as he spoke, remembering the story of Cinderella and perplexed at how different this story was from it. This story did not start with a simple ‘once upon a time’, did not appear to have any levity that brought smiles in the pictures or softness to Sang-hyuk’s voice. There was nothing of that with this little boy, and it did not know what that was supposed to imply.

“But…the little boy’s father had been doing a lot of bad things, and the king was so angry he sent his soldiers to go and kill his family. They killed the father and mother, but they didn’t know the little boy was there. When they found the little boy, they were going to kill him too, but when they saw how small and scared he was, they decided to let him live. They took him and kept him prisoner, and he was put in the dungeons under the castle.”

It noticed the discrepancy in the story, a part that was skipped, and it ripped itself from Sang-hyuk’s hard grip to look him in the eye. “What happened to the friend?”

Sang-hyuk had fresh tears running down his face, shaking his head as he squeezed his eyes shut. “The friend hadn’t been scared by the father, and still came to visit the little boy in his little house. They didn’t see each other often because they had to hide from the father, but they were still friends. That friend was so loyal, so brave, that when the little boy was taken by the king’s soldiers, he went with him.”

“So, the little boy and his friend are still together?”

It took Sang-hyuk a long time to answer. “Yes. But the little boy was not allowed to say anything to him, and they could only speak as strangers.” He took a deep breath. “It is not a happy story, and I’m sorry for telling you one like that. You’re nothing like the useless little boy; if you wanted friends, it would never end up like that. T52 and I would never let it happen.”

“But the little boy and his friend are still together. It is a happy story, is it not?”

Sang-hyuk stared at it with wide eyes for the longest time, his body shaking, before he suddenly grabbed its face, lurching forward and smashing his lips on its own. It did not react, letting him do what he wanted, unfamiliar with the implication of such a kiss. When Sang-hyuk finally pulled away, he pushed its hair from his eyes and kissed all over his face, letting out sounds that felt like sobs mixed with laughter.

"If you think it's a happy story,” he whispered, his words intermixed with continuous kisses, “then believe that. Believe in whatever happiness you can, my baby.”

As it stood by Sang-hyuk’s side and listened to the sound of kisses being pressed all over himself, he smiled. He would stand here and let Sang-hyuk do whatever he wanted—kiss, hug, laugh, cry—if it meant that he could help him.

It only wanted to make him proud.