Over the course of the next few weeks, Minseok, Junmyeon, Yixing, Baekhyun, Jongdae, Jongin and Sehun—collectively known as the EXOs—facilitated Chanyeol’s training to gauge how and when to activate his new found capabilities.  He effectively repelled other elements, after initially being overpowered by them.  Aside from producing fire, it appeared as if he had acquired the power of flight too. 

 

Yixing found Chanyeol levitating one night, while bursting into flames.  Chanyeol only seemed to be able to do this when he was on fire, though. 

 

Chanyeol could now run fast and jump from great heights to the next, still getting used to how incredible his new agile legs were functioning, so much so that he considered this to be more of his super power than anything else.

 

It was also observed that Chanyeol’s flames grew in intensity depending on his emotions.  When he was feeling challenged, provoked or angry, his flames were almost to a magma’s burning point.   However, when he was neutral, calm and happy, no flame spurred in sight. 

 

He could touch the others without them burning, but that still couldn’t determine if he wouldn’t have the same effect on humans or anything else on the surface world.  Minseok fetched an old book he had borrowed from a library from the 1800’s and had overlooked to return.  They must have read it thousands of times so it wasn’t such a huge sacrifice to test it with Chanyeol’s fiery hands.

 

Unfortunately, it burned to a crisp within a moment of contact. 

 

***

 

Two more Earth months later, Chanyeol managed to summon the flames at will, and tame it down the same way as well, but not always.  After sufficient amounts of tests, with Chanyeol being able to control his element more often than not, they considered giving him this one chance. 

 

It was by consensus that Yixing accompanied Chanyeol when it was time to come up to the surface, in case they discovered that Chanyeol wasn’t completely healed yet. 

 

“We don’t have to transform into animals, do we?” Chanyeol asked, just as he and Yixing were dressing themselves into formal polo shirts, suits and pants, just as normal, professional young men did. 

“It depends which portal we’re using,” Yixing answered, his eyes crinkling as he laughed.  “Baekhyun just likes the one on the top of the spaceship where only small animals can fit.”

 

And with that, Chanyeol was led to a long, winding slide and was zooming down after Yixing so fast, he had to hold down his scream. 

 

The next thing he knew, Yixing was catching him at the end and dusting him off, and then smoothly exiting the back door of a convenience store afterwards.

 

Chanyeol blinked rapidly as his eyes teared up at the extremely bright sun.  Apparently, it was already summer time.  He looked at Yixing, who was slipping on sunglasses. 

 

“Here.” Yixing readily handed him another pair.  “I get blinded by your sun, too, when I hadn’t come up in months.”

 

Eventually, Chanyeol got used to it but kept the sunglasses on for good measure.  He began to notice the familiar streets, though it felt quite foreign that he was now walking on them, instead of being wheeled around.  After nearly an hour of exploring, the orphanage he grew up in came into view.  Just as Chanyeol was about to cross the street, eager to have a lead on Kyungsoo’s whereabouts, Yixing grabbed at his arm to stop him.

 

“Wait,” Yixing cautioned, checking if people were looking at them suspiciously.  “You were on a wheelchair when you were last seen.  How are you going to explain that you’re able to walk now?”

 

How to even explain that he had been alive all this time?

 

Chanyeol assessed his clothing, expensive threads that he never would have been able to afford in his previous state.  He was standing well over six feet now.  Who knew what his actual height really was when he was bound on a wheelchair?  “I don’t think anyone would recognize me.  I could introduce myself as someone else.  I just want to ask where I could find Kyungsoo.”

 

Still unconvinced, Yixing reluctantly followed Chanyeol as the latter came up the steps to ring the doorbell of the orphanage. 

 

The one who opened the door brought an instant smile on Chanyeol’s face.  “Annyeong-haseayo.  How may I help you?”

 

It was Woojin ahjussi, the orphanage driver, perhaps about to leave to fetch the kids from the high school Chanyeol and Kyungsoo had previously attended.  “A-Annyeong-haseayo.”  Chanyeol paused for a few seconds, even taking off his sunglasses to check if the older man would recognize him, but he was only given a blank stare.  “Uh… I was wondering if you would know a Do Kyungsoo…?”

 

“Uh, yes, he’s the day care assistant here at the moment.  He’s still looking after kids, though.  Do you have an appointment with him?”

 

Chanyeol turned to Yixing, bright brown eyes dancing with joy at the thought that he didn’t have to look far; that his best friend hadn’t moved out yet!  “Should I schedule one?  I’d be very happy to—”

 

“Oh! Oh! I know!” The driver’s eyes brightened, laughing heartily that Yixing nervously thought Chanyeol’s name would be mentioned at any moment now.  “You must be the gentleman having dinner plans with Kyungsoo tonight!  Well, Yeongmi ahjumma did say she found Kyungsoo a strapping young man to date.” 

 

Chanyeol’s jaw dropped.  He had been hearing rumors before that Yeongmi eomonim was looking into potential mates for Kyungsoo, as a way to secure his future.  If Kyungsoo was married, he could have a stable family life and not worry about finances, healthcare or pursuing any career he desired. 

 

Kyungsoo had never confirmed this though, and Chanyeol had been afraid to ask about it.  Mostly because, Chanyeol would never be considered… as someone Kyungsoo would marry.

 

What could he possibly offer Kyungsoo… right?

 

His reverie was interrupted when Woojin ahjussi happily led him by the arm inside, with Yixing anxiously tagging along.   “Yeongmi ahjumma is having a meeting with sponsors right now, so perhaps you can wait for Kyungsoo in his bedroom?”

 

Chanyeol knew this building like the back of his hand.  This was the only home he had ever known.  To be walking these halls on his feet, and briskly too, was quite an alien sensation to him. 

 

The driver opened Kyungsoo’s bedroom just then.  “Apologies, this room is tiny, but this is where Kyungsoo is currently staying.  He used to share it with his best friend, who…” 

 

Chanyeol’s heart stopped, staring at the wall where his single bed used to be, now decorated with a collage of about a hundred tiny pictures of him and Kyungsoo together... 

 

“…tragically passed away.”

 

Yixing cleared his throat.  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

 

The driver sadly nodded.  “Well, I’ll let Kyungsoo know he has guests.  He should be with you shortly.”  And with that, Woojin turned, leaving the bedroom door wide open. 

 

Chanyeol’s eyes roamed around the myriad of memories that Kyungsoo had so carefully curated. Perhaps this was a means for him to give tribute to their friendship, as they literally had been joined at the hip all their lives. 

 

He walked over to a very special photo at the center that held the most precious story behind it.  There was a slightly bigger baby, whose left leg was shorter than the other, who was found at the door of the orphanage, aged 6 weeks old as his birth certificate stated.  The newborn next to him was born right there that very night, a midwife delivering him from a 17-year-old female orphan who was set to move out the month after.   Two infants, holding hands, sharing a bassinet because the orphanage could only afford one. 

 

And Chanyeol and Kyungsoo shared everything, ever since. 

 

He reached over to touch the picture, only a small flame sparked at the tip of his forefinger. 

 

“Chanyeol.” Yixing’s firm voice broke through his trance, bringing him back to the present. 

 

A tear streamed down Chanyeol’s cheek as he closed his eyes, hand falling limp to his side, overwhelmed by the reminiscence of his previous life, both the happy and the sad, the suffering and the solace, the pain and the love.  He had missed so much out of life, and he hadn’t even begun to live.

 

But most of all, he missed being with Kyungsoo.  

 

He missed what they had, what they were, what they could be.

 

Chanyeol miserably turned around, sighing.  “Now you know see why I need to talk to him?”

 

Yixing regarded him with a gentle gaze, nodding sympathetically. 

 

Sniffing, Chanyeol looked around their old bedroom that Kyungsoo neatly maintained.  His best friend was a notorious minimalist and abhorred any kind of clutter.   This was beneficial, as Chanyeol needed a lot of space to move around so that his wheelchair…

 

Speaking of…

 

That was when Chanyeol noticed a strangely familiar collapsible contraption on the side of Kyungsoo’s bed.  While he knew he shouldn’t, he took the liberty of pulling it out and unfolded it into an… improvised version of what his wheelchair used to be. 

 

Chanyeol knelt down to check the rear wheels and handles and found charred edges and signs of fire damage on them.  On the seat itself was the blanket Kyungsoo gave to Chanyeol to cover his legs with for when he got cold, and a black NE beanie that Chanyeol used to keep his moppy, unkempt hair in place. 

 

As Yixing was about to stop him, Chanyeol found himself sitting on the wheelchair, only the synthetic leather seat threatened to rip apart due to his much heavier weight.  The wooden floor creaked loudly as he did but he could hardly tuck his much longer legs in, wondering how he could have fit in this wheelchair for nearly a decade before…

 

“I can’t believe he still kept these…” Chanyeol whispered, reverently placing the blanket over his legs that could not cover them entirely and slipped the shabby black beanie on, trying to wheel himself around in a circle.

 

Just how easy it was to do this with merely his own arms right now, when it wasn’t long before that he would be out of breath and suffering from chest pains trying to propel himself forward without Kyungsoo’s help…

 

Suddenly, someone could be heard murmuring, “I can’t believe Ahjussi just let strangers into my room…”

 

Kyungsoo’s jaw dropped at the sight of someone using his best friend’s wheelchair, his best friend’s blanket and his best friend’s beanie.

 

HIs wide, round eyes turned into a dangerous glare as he violently shook and sputtered, “W-What the…?”  Kyungsoo darted an annoyed glance at Yixing, wondering why the hell were there two guys in his bedroom.  “What the ?!  W-What do you s think you’re doing?!” 

 

He charged to pounce on the bastard disrespecting his personal space and playing around with Chanyeol’s possessions that were sacred to him…

 

“Kyungsoo-yah.”

 

He stopped cold in his tracks, that voice sinking in.  He couldn’t be mistaken about it, listening to it calling his name in the same tender manner for nearly 18 years.  He heard it in his sleep, even just last night.

 

They stared at each other for a while, as Kyungsoo gazed deep into the almond-shaped brown eyes of the young man on the wheelchair, with no thick lenses hindering him from seeing how clear and bright they really were, until Kyungsoo found himself asking, “When’s my birthday?”

 

Chanyeol blinked, instinctively knowing the answer to this.  “January 12^th 1993.”

 

Kyungsoo swallowed.  Lucky guess.   What if this strange man was a mind reader?  “When’s your birthday?”

 

“November 27^th 1992,” Chanyeol replied softly.  “We were born six weeks apart.”

 

That wasn’t enough as Kyungsoo frantically searched for something on top of his bunk bed, not caring if everything was going in shambles at the moment.  He unearthed the old musical keyboard the orphanage had gifted Chanyeol for his 12^th birthday.  Kyungsoo found a couple of batteries to make it run and placed it on the armrests of the wheelchair, as if on a dare.  “Play me the song that I was supposed to sing for my graduation solo.”

 

Chanyeol had been the one to suggest it, and Kyungsoo and the principal loved the selection as the ballad fit Kyungsoo’s voice perfectly.  Did Kyungsoo ever perform it?  Did Kyungsoo graduate with the rest of the class?

 

Based on muscle memory, Chanyeol turned the dusty keyboard on and placed his hands on the keys.

 

Sniveling, Kyungsoo watched this stranger play the opening chords of “If It Was Me” by Na Yoon Kwon with long and graceful fingers that did not hesitate or quiver, as mystical music filled the room that only Park Chanyeol could ever convey. 

 

He didn’t even get to finish the first verse as Kyungsoo launched himself to him, arms hugging Chanyeol tight, the keyboard falling on the floor with a thud. 

 

Yixing stepped forward in reflex, ready to pull Kyungsoo away, should Chanyeol burst into flames, but Chanyeol’s eyes remained close, as if trying to balance and compose himself, even whilst hearing Kyungsoo’s uncontrollable sobs.

 

“CHANYEOL, CHANYEOL!!!” Kyungsoo cried, telling him unintelligible things in between in despair.  “Tell me it’s you!  Tell me you’re really here!”

 

Chanyeol opened his eyes then, tears b at the edges as he looked to Yixing for guidance.  A moment more and both thought it was safe, only then did Chanyeol carefully pat Kyungsoo on the back.  “Yes, it’s me.  I’m… alive.”

 

“But how?  There was a blast!  Your body couldn’t be found!  Even the police and the government assured us no one would be able to survive that kind of explosion!  I tried to put your wheelchair back the best way I could.  We buried you!” Kyungsoo pulled back weeping, continuing to assess this new, transformed Chanyeol somehow, his brain and his eyes attempting to find a reconciliation between what was possible and what he wanted to see... 

 

Never had he been able to hug Chanyeol as tightly as this, because his best friend had been shriveled, and skinny, and severely sick, that Kyungsoo was almost afraid of crushing his bones if he did.

 

With the Chanyeol he was now holding in his arms, so beautifully filled out, Kyungsoo could feel muscles rippling under his palm, and rock-solid shoulders… “You… you look… different.  W-What…  What happened?”

 

“I…” Chanyeol swallowed, gazing over at Yixing again. 

 

Appearing conflicted, Yixing sighed as Kyungsoo turned to him for answers.  “A-Annyeong haseayo, Do Kyungsoo-ssi.  My name is… Kim Yixing.”  The surname felt funny in his tongue but it was one of the most common Korean family names, wasn’t it? “I’m… Chanyeol’s adoptive brother.”

 

“Adoptive…” Kyungsoo focused on Chanyeol again.  “You’ve been adopted?”

 

“Yes,” Chanyeol said carefully, still staring at Yixing, wondering where this story was going. 

 

“The night of the explosion, the chemical factory reached out to my father, a renowned plastic surgeon, when they learned that there was a casualty.  To avoid any legal battles, since he was still breathing, Chanyeol was immediately flown overseas to recuperate, and that includes intensive skin grafting and face and body reconstruction…” Yixing was making this up as he went along, probably drawing inspiration from watching too many Korean dramas and crime documentaries in his quest to study human behavior.   “My father took it upon himself to adopt him so they could proceed with the surgeries.  And Chanyeol was such a trooper.  He has fully recovered and the first thing he wanted to do upon returning to South Korea was to meet with you.”

 

While Kyungsoo was grieving for his death for the past eight months, his best friend had been taken in by a wealthy family who seemingly had the resources to provide everything he would ever need.  Chanyeol had gained so much weight, looking so much healthier and appearing so… handsome and sophisticated… How could this be…?

 

Chanyeol’s eyes misted over, able to empathize at the confusion Kyungsoo must be feeling at this moment, but he couldn’t help smiling as happiness took over him, relieved that he could actually touch and come near Kyungsoo without hurting him.  “It’s really me, Kyungsoo-yah.”

 

Kyungsoo cupped Chanyeol’s left cheek, his deep dimple there fondly.  “I know.”  And with that, he hugged him again.  “I’ve missed you!  I’ve missed you so much!”

 

Just then, Kyungsoo’s cell phone rang, and it flashed the number of the administrator.  “Oh, it’s Yeongmi eomonim.”  He looked at Chanyeol excitedly.  “She would be so happy to see you!” 

 

Behind them, Yixing was adamantly shaking his head. 

 

Kyungsoo stepped away to answer the call.  “Yeobosaeyo, eomonim?  Uh, yes… Choi Junghoon?  I’m going out to dinner with him?”

 

Chanyeol’s brows furrowed as he listened to this, his face turning the same color as his hair that Yixing could sense he was about to flare up. 

 

“Calm down!” Yixing warned him soundlessly. 

 

“But I can’t… I have a visitor…” Kyungsoo turned to Chanyeol exasperatedly, who was gripping the armrests of the wheelchair that was starting to go up in smoke.  He put his phone away for a second and told him, “Hang on, I’ll get to the bottom of this.  Wait here.” 

 

And with that, Kyungsoo continued his conversation on the phone, while marching up to the administrator’s office. 

 

Yixing rushed to open the small window of Kyungsoo’s bedroom.  “Now would be a good time to go.”

 

Chanyeol yanked the beanie off his head petulantly and rose from wheelchair, fire already spreading through his body.  Yixing pulled the blanket off him just in time as the suddenly jealous firebreather floated a couple of feet off the ground. 

 

“Get out!” Yixing ordered, panicky, glancing back to see if Kyungsoo had returned. 

 

Grumbling, Chanyeol slid outside the tiny window in his fiery form, as Yixing himself climbed down from second storey window right after, pulling it close as he did.  He jumped on his feet when he landed, watching a great ball of fire shoot up to the sky, probably to let off steam.

 

Yixing quickly made himself scarce, in case Kyungsoo set out to look for them. 

 

Kyungsoo only nodded at Choi Junghoon distractedly and then excused himself when he all but dragged the administrator back to his bedroom due to adrenaline. 

 

“That was so rude, Kyungsoo-yah!  Choi Junghoon has been waiting for you the entire afternoon.” Yeongmi scolded, trying to keep up with the overeager teenager’s ridiculous pace.  

 

Kyungsoo only laughed, accelerating as he approached the corner to his bedroom.  “Yeongmi eomonim!  You won’t believe who’s in my room right now!”

 

He nearly pushed the old woman inside, only to find no one there.  The wheelchair was left in the middle of the room, while the keyboard, beanie and blanket were scattered on the floor.

 

“Do you smell smoke?” Yeongmi sniffed the air and glanced at Kyungsoo disappointedly. “What did I tell you about smoking, Kyungsoo-yah?”

 

“Aniyo!  I haven’t…” Kyungsoo protested, clutching his suddenly tightening chest.   Why did it smell like smoke in here?  He couldn’t breathe…

 

He immediately pulled up the window pane to let fresh breeze in, before he was overcome by suffocation.  “I haven’t touched a cigarette in my life, eomonim!”

 

Vaguely hearing the administrator telling him to clean up his room and get ready for his date as she exited, he sat back dejectedly and forced himself to calm down. 

 

Was his mind playing tricks on him?  Did he just imagine Chanyeol visiting him in their bedroom, looking like… he had just come out of a dream?

 

The smell of smoke—or whatever it was—was fading, and his breathing was now returning to normal. Kyungsoo convinced himself it was all in his head, as he would, several times, whenever he felt the need to cope with the memory of what had happened to his best friend. 

 

Knowing that he must apologize to Choi Junghoon, and not leave his bedroom in this state, he resolutely got up and finally closed the window, noticing the uneven charring on the sides of the window frame that he couldn’t remember being there this morning.  Bewildered, he swiped across it, the crisp, black residue tainting his fingers…