A woman’s voice crooned sweetly over the radio and filled the little bedroom, Sehun stood, hands on hips surveying his closet. He wore faded sweatpants, an old t-shirt, and a pair of slippers.

“Vivi,” he addressed the little dog lying near his bed, “We’ve got a big job with this closet. But Saturdays are for cleaning, so clean we must.”

Vivi glanced at him then returned to chewing his shoe.

Sehun began to take all the clothes from the closet and sort through them.

“I don’t wear this much anymore, should I keep it?” he asked holding up a brown corduroy jacket. He tossed it into a box.

Once he’d emptied the closet of clothes and tossed those he no longer wanted, he began to put back the others. He neatly hung the items up: jackets on one side, slacks on the other, shirts in the middle. On the shelf he placed neat stacks of nicely folded t-shirts and jeans.

“There! Now for the shoes,” Sehun stared at the mass that lay at the bottom of his closet.

Jongdae over the number of shoes he owned, but Sehun believed that the perfect pair of shoes completed a look. And, from the looks of the gigantic pile, Sehun had a lot of looks.

He pulled out brown loafers and white sneakers one after another with an occasional ankle boot thrown in. Then, he neatly lined up the pairs along the closet wall.

Satisfied with his work, Sehun sat on the floor, leaned against his bed, and Vivi’s head, “We did it. Well, I did it, you weren’t much help.”

Vivi looked at him and scampered into the closet. She nudged something with her nose. Sehun crawled over and discovered the shoe box, “Oh, we missed a pair huh girl,” he opened the lid.

Instead of a pair of shoes, the box contained little random items. On top was a bundle of fabric, Sehun lifted it from the box. It was a gray t-shirt, with his name and the number 94 printed in large black letters. He methodically folded it and set it on the floor beside him. There was another bundle, seemingly identical to the first. Sehun gripped it, still balled up, and lay it next to him.

He dug deeper. He pulled out two necklaces each with a half moon pendant. As they dangled from his hands, the light caught the silver and made them sparkle. He quickly laid them on top of the t-shirts, he knew they fit together, he didn’t have to try.

Quickly he removed baseball caps and stuffed characters, barely looking at them. Sehun picked up the little piece of paper that lay at the bottom of the box. Tears welled up in his eyes.

Vivi lay her head on his knee and whimpered as Sehun silently choked out sobs.

He roughly rubbed his eyes with his knuckles and turned the paper over. It was a photo: a little boy with soft features smiled up at him. Sehun closed his eyes, mouth contorting to hold back the tears. One hand shook, the other the photo’s jagged edge.