Baekhyun bounced a little in excitement. He couldn’t help his smile and his eyes sparkled as he looked at the large fruit in his hand. It had obviously been left for him. 

This was the third day in a row that someone had left him an orange. 

At first he had been uneasy about it. 

Three days ago when he woke up in the little shack, there had been no sign of any other person. But the large orange sitting in the middle of the one table in the room made it obvious someone had been there. 

Baekhyun had ignored the fruit as long as possible, wary of it’s sudden appearance and half expecting someone to come walking in as though they owned the place and had left the orange for themselves. 

It was very possible. 

Less than a week before, after walking several hours through the night, at the first crack of dawn Baekhyun had found what appeared to be an abandoned shack at the edge of the woods, nestled against the orange grove. There didn’t seem to be anyone around, and his hunger drew him to the smell of the fruit, so he quickly picked up two small oranges that had apparently fallen off the tree nearest to the shack. He then cautiously pushed open the door of the shack and looked around.

The slowly increasing light of the rising sun shone through the window and cracks in the door, giving evidence to a small table and single chair. Over against the wall was a short raised platform and a worn-out blanket. Other than the spiders on their webs in the corners of the room, there didn’t appear to be anyone else in the place, and the thick dust on all the surfaces made it obvious there hadn’t been for quite some time. 

Not caring about the dust, Baekhyun had plopped himself down on the raised bed-type platform, then quickly peeled and ate the oranges. As soon as he had finished, exhaustion forced him to give in and he curled up into a ball with his bag for a pillow and fell asleep.

A few hours later he woke to the sound of a small thump and faint voices. In a panic, the orphan grabbed his bag and scrambled through the dust across the floor to the window, staying on his knees to peer stealthily over the ledge to try to look through the worn windowpane without being detected. 

Judging by the sunlight, it appeared to be early afternoon. Baekhyun could make out the forms of two people through the trees. The kerchiefs on their heads and wicker baskets on their backs made it obvious they were workers. They were picking up oranges from the ground, quickly inspecting the fruit, then putting it in the baskets. Occasionally they would apparently find an orange that didn’t pass inspection and would sling it casually in the direction of the shack, not paying attention to where it landed. They were talking and laughing together as they worked, and one of the oranges hit the side of the shack, creating a thump similar to the one Baekhyun had heard. Evidently these were the sounds that had woken the orphan from his much needed slumber. 

He sank back down on the floor with his back to the wall. The old door of the shack was closed but there were gaps in the slats of the wood that anyone would be able to peer through to see inside if they wanted. And the glass window panes were dirty and cracked, but that didn’t mean movement inside couldn’t be detected if someone were to look carefully. 

He had to be smart. These people may not be nice. He hadn’t understood much of what they were saying. They didn’t seem to be speaking Korean. If they were from another country they may not trust him. If anything, they might tell on him and turn him over to the authorities. He had old and new bruises on his stomach and legs, and his twisted ankle was still a bit painful, but no one cared for someone as low as him, so it was best to stay quiet and hidden.

He didn’t want to be sent back to the hell he had lived through so far in his short life.

As a penniless orphan with no actual record of his birth, never sent to a formal school and not trained in any specific skill, Baekhyun had always scrambled to survive.

The orphanage he had grown up in was overrun with children and there was never enough food, clothes, beds, or space. Because of this, he had slept on the floor since he was ten years old. There were many kids there that didn’t care about anyone but themselves, and the three old ladies that ran the place didn’t spare any kind words if they didn’t have to. He always felt lonely and alone despite being stuck in a crowded house with constant noise and no privacy. 

Kicked out of the orphanage a few weeks after his fifteenth birthday, the malnourished and undersized boy had quickly thought through his options and made a decision. There was a cloth weaving shop in town that seemed to always be busy with the sound of machinery running long hours, but there wasn't any evidence of any young helpers around. Surely he could be of use there. This was where the orphan went and begged to be allowed to work in the shop in exchange for the privilege of one meal a day and sleeping at night in the relative safety of the shop attic. After persistently bothering the old owner about it for three days the man finally grudgingly agreed. 

Baekhyun was allowed to work in the main room of the workshop. There were four old weaving machines that were operated by the weaver and the weaver’s assistant. Neither of the two men were friendly to the orphan, and the few words they spoke to him were usually hateful and demeaning. A lot of the time they deliberately ignored the orphan as long as he stayed quiet and did his work quickly.

Baekhyun was small with thin limbs and slender hands so he could reach in between the working parts of the