A/N: I was quite proud of Chapter 11 because I didn't mention explicitly that Sehun or Luhan died, but the words said it for me. I also didn't mention Sehun at all, not directly, but because of the presence of Sehun's brother, I kept having to mention 'Sehun' which was a calculated move to continously stab the hearts of readers. It is also unbelievably painful to read back the story from chapter 1 because dammit, SEHUN AND LUHAN WERE ALIVE AND WELL then. I can't believe we're at the end of the story. Thank you, so much, for reading and giving this story a chance to come alive for just that one more reader.

Chapter 12

The first words you would have read in this story would be a Chinese proverb. I will save you the hassle of clicking the box above and looking back to chapter one to refer.

不善始者不善终 (bú shàn shǐ zhě bù shàn zhōng)

Essentially, it means ‘a bad beginning makes a bad ending’.

How appropriate.

The company releases the confirmed news to the fans a full two days later, after they manage to extract permission from Luhan’s and Sehun’s parents out of respect rather than necessity. The trip to Thailand had been cancelled and all activities put to an indefinite hold. Luhan’s parents are filing a lawsuit, and the company is taking it stoically. It is unsure whether it will fall through, because unwanted information may be dug up – thus tainting Luhan’s image; bringing embarrassment to Luhan’s parents and affecting the future of EXO – but the possibility of it still hangs in the air. Sehun’s family cut all ties with the company, even sending back the wreath of condolences. Their way of handling the grief, it seems, is to push away all painful reminders of the connections Sehun had that indirectly led to his end. They have not been heard from since the hospital visit. The rest of EXO are sent home, except for Yixing. Kris’s parents even fly down from Vancouver to pick him up. It is an all-expense paid trip. Fantaken photos of Tao in the airport alone, waiting to go back to China, go viral online. Gossip is fueled. Fans wait impatiently for the company statement, waiting on tenderhooks. They think that Yixing’s illness may be worse than they feared.

The company statement is short. ‘EXO members Luhan and Sehun have been involved in a fatal accident two days ago. We are in a state of grief. Please offer your prayers for their families.’

The uproar caused immediately is expected and pre-empted. The EXO members who live in Seoul go underground, or have padded security around their houses. Tao seems to have vanished, complains China fans. A flood of donations pour in, in remembrance of the two loved members. The other company artists halt their own activities out of respect. Reporters predict major losses by the company; they speculate and connect the dots about the accident; pages upon pages in newspapers and gossip columns are dedicated to the two boys for days. Sehun’s old school has to release a firm statement to bar reporters on their grounds, when a few of Sehun’s classmates are continuously harassed for insider information.

Suho thinks he should be attending a company meeting. He ought to be sitting on the black cushioned swivel chairs at the corner of the oblong wooden table in the conference room, discussing the fate of the future of EXO. Kris had shaken his head slightly when they were approached by the manager to talk about it the day before Kris’s flight was booked, and that was the end of that discussion.

Instead, he is curled up at the end of his maroon sofa at home. His parents had offered to book a flight to Japan for a brief getaway, but Suho felt the need to be around his remaining members more than ever.

There is the unreleased practice video of MAMA playing on his television screen. Suho should feel sick to death of the choreography, but he is not. He is drawn to how well they work as six members, and when he puts in disc two, he is astounded at the sheer magnificence of the charisma exuding from twelve members. He studies the maknae’s form. His movements are fluid, contrasting sharply to the stiff facial expression. He compares it with his memories of Sehun’s face lighting up at the sight of his favourite sweet drink, his exaggerated pout when he is ignored by a hyung, his exasperated frown when the room they share gets too hot and he threatens to get Tao to break the door so that Suho would stop closing it. He still half-expects Sehun to be there, wherever. It makes Suho’s heart clench uncomfortably when he reminds himself of real life.

The home telephone rings. It rings twice, and then it gets abruptly cut off. Suho lunges for the receiver, stretching his right arm over the couch’s armchair to the coffee table. On cue, the telephone rings again, and Suho snatches up the receiver. It is EXO’s childish code for ‘it’s-me’.

“Hello, can I speak to S- er, Junmyeon-hyung?” asks a deep voice politely on the other line.

“Speaking,” Suho answers, relaxing his shoulders and sinking back to the comfortable armchair.

“Hi!” Chanyeol immediately brightens. “How are you?”

Suho mulls over the question. It is not a matter of answering, because they both know the answer, but more of figuring out whether to add an expletive or two. “As usual,” settles Suho diplomatically.

“Kris Skyped me this morning,” Chanyeol continues, talking over Suho. “He wanted to know if SM contacted you?”

“Skype!” repeats Suho, and he mentally does a facepalm. He had been wondering how he would contact Kris, what with overseas calls being extortionately expensive and email being too slow.

“Keep up with the younger generation, hyung.”

Suho splutters into the telephone, and gives up searching for a retort. “Nobody has contacted me, apart from the members.”

There is a contemplative pause. “No news is good news, right?” Chanyeol asks casually.

Suho smiles gently, reassuringly, eventhough Chanyeol cannot see him. “Yes, you’re right,” he lies. They continue a light conversation for a while, until Chanyeol excuses himself for lunch. Suho looks at the phone thoughtfully.

He has received calls from the media, his friends, and all of EXO’s Korean members. He hasn’t heard from Yixing yet.

Jongin is at Kyungsoo’s house, because one; Kyungsoo doesn’t live in Seoul and two; Kyungsoo doesn’t have some of Sehun’s books piled around his bedroom from the school, who couldn’t get in touch with Sehun’s family. Jongin’s parents want him to get some semblance of a getaway.

“Create a username that fans probably cannot recognise,” advises Kyungsoo, tilting his head so that his handphone is rested against his shoulder.

“JONGINNO1” shouts Jongin, huddling close to Kyungsoo.

“Pabo,” the two of them distinctly hears. Then – “What the- it’s taken.”

Jongin looks surprised, but Kyungsoo rolls his eyes impressively and tells their leader to be creative, before ending the long drawn-out conversation.

The two of them exchange glances, waiting for the other to speak. “Suho-hyung sounds like he’s coping,” brings up Jongin tentatively.

“No, he’s distracting himself,” corrects Kyungsoo, slipping his handphone into the back of his pants pocket before folding his arms. “Yesterday he repaired his bicycle.”

“You mean the –” Kyungsoo nods before Jongin finishes the sentence. When EXO-K was packing their essentials from their dormitory before leaving for home, Suho had a hard time entering his room. He kept wandering about the house, agitated, until Baekhyun and Chanyeol picked up on the reason behind it. Suho had accidentally kicked out blindly, when the two scooped his arms on either side like bodyguards escorting their victim, and his bicycle had been sent crashing, denting badly. Its twin bicycle – Sehun’s bicycle – leaned innocently against the wall. Suho blinked at it, and resolutely brought back home the broken bicycle.

“So it looks like you’re not the only one with issues,” concludes Kyungsoo. He is sitting down on the steps of the patio that lead to his house. His father’s car is in the driveway, and the door has been opened for close to an hour already. Jongin has yet to enter the car willingly – he had made a fuss before his journey to Kyungsoo’s house as well.

Jongin has a wide breadth of space between himself and the car. He pushes himself away from Kyungsoo at the reminder, and opts to walk around the frontyard. He glances at the car once, and grimaces.

“Travelling by helicopter sounds reas –” Again, Jongin doesn’t finish the ridiculous statement, but he doesn’t recoil away at the receiving glance of Kyungsoo’s withering gaze. There is a harder shell to crack around the older boy now. Jongin has received that Look multiple times during his two-day stay already. Jongin notices the difference in Kyungsoo, eventhough he thinks the latter doesn’t realise it. Kyungsoo’s family acknowledges it as well, but apart from worried looks in his direction, they let it go. They can hardly expect ‘Umma’ Kyungsoo to remain unchanged as well.

“I really can’t,” Jongin says in a small voice, hunching his shoulders as he slips both hands into the pockets of his jeans.

“You haven’t allowed yourself to try yet,” Kyungsoo responds impassively.

In some ways, this version of Kyungsoo is exactly what Jongin needs. Entertaining Jongin’s fears would be detrimental in the long run, and would make recovering harder. Kyungsoo has been there by Jongin’s side, literally, throughout everything. There’s already unspoken understanding between the two of them. Jongin can let his pride down in front of Kyungsoo, and Kyungsoo can give him the merciless shove he needs.

Jongin turns to face the door of the car, squaring his shoulders resolutely. The roar of a car engine echoes in his mind. Jongin is about to turn away, again, when someone catches his arm.

“Once there were three bears who lived in a cottage,” Kyungsoo sings under his breath. His voice is throaty from lack of practice, but neither care.

“Have you lost your mind?” Jongin bursts out, squeezing his eyes shut. A shower of white light drizzles down behind the dark eyelids. Glass slivers, from broken car windows.

“Papa Bear,” continues Kyungsoo, and for a ridiculous moment, an image of Suho hunched over his laptop trying to figure out how to download Skype plays in Jongin’s mind. Jongin barely suppresses the twitch in the corner of his mouth.

“Mama Bear, Baby Bear.” There is one step forwards, for each. “Papa Bear was chubby and fat…”

“Mama Bear was slender and tall,” Jongin recites along. He tries to feel how stupid this charade is; he is far too old for children songs. But he grew up to it, and it’s only natural instinct to follow along. It’s like someone singing ‘London Bridge’ – which child doesn’t know the rest of the annoyingly addictive rhyming lyrics?

“Open your eyes, Jongin,” interrupts Kyungsoo gently. Jongin obeys, and nearly cries out. The step into the car is right in front of him. “What is the next line?”

“Kyungsoo-hyung.”

“Baby Bear…”

“Baby Bear was the cutest one of all, that’s because he was so small.” As if he is in a dream, a fairy tale, a nursery rhyme, Jongin steps into the car voluntarily, without thinking. He lets go of the breathe he is holding, momentarily stunned at what he did. Then, slowly, he spreads his hands out on the beige leather seats. He inhales the giddy scent of the leather. Jongin gives a shaky laugh, and his shoulders suddenly relax into the seats.

“Well done,” Kyungsoo says softly, bringing his hands together to clap. He looks worn out, but he still smiles slightly. He looks down at Jongin in the car with something akin to pride.

There needs to be words to be said to celebrate what just happened, but silence stretches between the two. Jongin scoots over even more to the inside of the car, when Kyungsoo slides in as well.

“Your- your dad’s car is nice,” Jongin says, and he chokes. Before they knew it, Jongin is leaning against Kyungsoo’s shoulder, crying. Kyungsoo understands. He isn’t crying because of the car. He is crying because of Sehun and Luhan.

There is little comfort to give, but reassuring pats on the back. “You’ll be okay, Jongin. We all will be.”

Kris is drenched in sweat that soaks into dark spots on his grey t-shirt. He bounces the basketball in his hands twice, before jumping. He shoots, and lets out a heartfelt ‘aish’ when it rebounds against the white board. He is out of practice – well, damn if Xiu Min and Luhan wouldn’t be convinced to switch from soccer to football during their free time.

There, another reminder of Luhan. In Vancouver. The place of coffee and rain – nothing can be so vastly different compared to China’s smog, and delicacies made from animal organs Kris would rather not know, and all things Luhan. Kris ditches the ball and snags up the strap of his old frayed bag, dumping a cap low on his head despite the heat from the exercise.

Vibrations play goosebumps against his bare arm, as his bag rests against his side. Kris digs out his handphone quickly.

“Hello?” he greets in English, before switching up to Chinese, and then as an afterthought, Korean. He really should check his caller ID before answering calls.

“Duizhang,” Tao says, and Kris stops short at the sidewalk underneath the shade of a tree. “The company is paying for this international call.”

“They better,” replies Kris automatically, thinking back to his trainee days when he tried to minimise on calls back home to save money. “Sorry. What are you calling for, Tao? Is everything alright?” His later words nearly slur together, in a rush to be spoken.

Tao thinks through his words carefully. “I just returned to Korea,” he answers. “I’m at the airport waiting for manager-hyung.”

Kris actually turns around, to glare at a direction he pretends is Seoul. What is the boy doing? Instructions were specific, to stay where they were until further notice. Kris refuses to believe that SM would contact the EXO-M maknae before the leader. Hierarchy exists, damn it.

Tao continues to talk calmly, as if he hasn’t just sent Kris into emotional turmoil. “I met with Yixing’s grandparents in Changsha yesterday.”

There is a pause. Kris feels like strangling the air, but there is an old couple strolling down the sidewalk along the river and they are already giving him strange looks for his height and bleached hair. He does not need to feel more judged.

“Hurry up and tell me what happened, Tao,” Kris demands impatiently, turning his back on them.

“Yixing went for a heart operation yesterday,” Tao replies without preamble. Kris tilts his chin up to look at the azure blue sky, his jaw dropped open. “The heart transplant was successful.”

“He didn’t tell us,” murmured Kris, shocked. Yixing’s blood clotting condition would have complicated the surgery, they all knew that. He could have died.  Instead of telling EXO – to say their goodbyes (just in case?!) – he went ahead with the surgery. “I’m going to go to Seoul, right now. To kill him.”

It is said in jest, so Tao takes it in stride. “Are you coming soon?” Tao asks instead seriously. “I’m staying with Xiu Min-hyung. The manager knows I’m calling you, so it won’t be long before the others know. I’ll make sure everyone waits for you to come down before we go visit Yixing.”

“Oh.” There is a surge of fierce affection for the youngest. Kris continues walking, this time faster. He needs to pack. “I’ll come down as fast as I can.”

“Duizhang?”

Kris swallows. “Is there more?” More news? More bad news?

Yixing is walking back to his room from the TV lounge with his guitar, as if he owns the place. To be honest, the other patients there do eye him with a minute amount of curiosity because of his fame, and because the gossip vine traces back the ten bodyguards stationed at the hospital level to him. He is transferred from ICU to a normal ward. Along the way, he waves in a friendly manner to the staff and patients alike.

Then, suddenly he feels a heavy weight collide into him from the back. He lurches forward, and panics because the guitar is his baby. He twists his body to the side, and would have done much worse damage to his body than a broken guitar if a strong pair of hands had not caught him before his fall.

“Yixing!” wails a voice, excruciatingly loud into his ear, and Yixing replies calmly, “Oh hello, good morning Tao.”

“You could have seriously injured him!” scolds another voice, and before long, Yixing realises that s have been loitering around his single-patient room for a while now, made evident by the fact that Jongin is lying down comfortably on his bed with both shoes off. Baekhyun is leaning against the bed frame, playing with his laptop.

“He’s fine, Suho,” Kris answers in Yixing’s place, righting the latter back to his feet. He leans down closer for a private word. “You idiot.  Congratulations on your speedy recovery. You could have told us you were going in surgery!”

Yixing’s smile falters for a moment. “I wrote letters,” he whispers back in Chinese, out of the corner of his mouth. “Just in case. I didn’t want to cause any more pain.”

There are plenty of things Kris would like to say to that, but he doesn’t get a chance to. The rest of EXO are quick on their feet, thumping the dimpled boy on the back and offering their own congratulations. There is light in their eyes that seem to be rekindled at Yixing, ironically now the symbol of life amidst all the death.

“Do you want to go to the rooftop playground?” Yixing asks hopefully, looking around. There is no entertainment in the room besides sitting around each other, and he sees they are dangerously close to settling back into a somber silence. He wants to spend some time giving cheer, if suggesting the playground is the only small thing he can attempt to do. “It’s something to do.”

The playground is quiet. Sunshine beams upon the primary colored playground set, making the plastic gleam. Baekhyun and Chanyeol exchange discrete glances at the back of the hesitant troop, and Baekhyun gives a small nod. With a sudden yell, the both of them barge their way to the front, elbowing their members to the side, and the forced laughs become genuine when Chanyeol exclaims in dismay when he finds out that his legs go the entire length of the slide without needing to move from the top.

Kris sits down on the front of the pink toy car that is attached to a spring, so that his tall frame blocks it from sight. Kyungsoo notices it, and his gaze flickers once to Jongin. Kris thinks that Kyungsoo would acknowledge him, but the younger boy instead turns around to look at Chen fail miserably at the monkey bars. Kris sighs inwardly, because it’s obvious that Kyungsoo still needs time.

“Oh, hello!” they all hear Xiu Min say abruptly, his bottom half hidden by the hedge that lines the playground perimeters. “I’m sorry, are we being too noisy?”

“Nope!” answers back a cheerful voice, and they all sigh in relief because it’s not their manager or a reporter, but just a small girl. A grown woman greets Xiu Min back with slight amusement. “It’s alright, we’re just going back. We’ve never seen so much energy in the playground before; it’s usually so quiet.”

“It’s just a one-off thing,” reassures Xiu Min, but the mother replies, “No, no, it’s good!”

The three of them walk closer to the playground, so that EXO sees the girl finally. She is wearing a pink patient’s uniform. She has no hair, but a wide smile.

“I know you!” she shouts, pointing excitedly to Yixing, who stands out from the rest in his identical uniform, albeit blue. “You played the guitar in the TV room yesterday!” She runs to him, eyes sparkling.

When she comes close enough, Yixing crouches down for a spontaneous high-five.

The girl goes out of focus, and all he can see is a blurry grey outline of her. Her words die in his head, as he just hears the thundering pounding of his heartbeat in his ears. His breath shortens, and his chest feels uncomfortable. There is a nagging, anxious voice at the back of his head.

Like the rest of EXO, Chen is gaping in shock when Yixing suddenly puts his hand to the temple of his head. His fingers loosen their grip, and he lets go of the monkey bars, dropping heavily to the ground. He cries out, and eyes are drawn to him.

“Are you feeling okay?” the girl asks, concerned, but not anxious because black-outs are a familiar domain to her.

“He’s fine,” Kris says for the second time that day. “We should bring him back soon.” The mother sees how the boys are frozen in their place, and senses that the mood is bad. She quickly bids goodbye and ushers her child back into the air-condition.

As one, they all flee towards Yixing. Jongin, who reaches him first, helps him up. Yixing blinks twice, and shakes his head to clear his mind.

“That was strange,” he muses aloud.

“Are you really okay?” Tao echoes worriedly.

“I just had a bad feeling in here,” Yixing replies, looking dazed. He rubs his chest, slightly towards his left, where his heart lies. “When she touched me, my head hurt. I had this feeling, like something bad was going to happen to her.”

Jongin lets go of him, like he is electrocuted, and stumbles back. Yixing lurches forward a bit, but he steadies himself and stands upright, stretching his hands. He feels really tired all at once.

“That girl had cancer, didn’t she?” Kyungsoo checks, in a bored voice. “She’s probably going to die.”

“Kyungsoo!” snaps half a dozen voices.

Yixing nods slowly, looking appropriately disturbed and upset at the idea. “Yes, I think so.” He looks around at s, who are looking at him with several varying degrees of shock and fear. “Why, what’s wrong?”

“We’ve never told him,” realises Baekhyun, “about Luhan.” Nobody is inclined to continue, so Baekhyun does, quietly. “I think we know whose heart was given to you for transplant, Yixing.”

EXO goes on an official hiatus for a year and a half. Then, the company decides to combine the group into one. The comeback has been anticipated impatiently since the beginning of the year, when members start trickling into the company building for training, and then a regular schedule was established. What kind of teasers will be released? What will the new concept be?

Suho accidentally lets slip that they will have only one teaser photo for the comeback in a radio hosting gig at KTR. It is to be revealed on a 12^th December. Fans start analyzing the information obsessively. 12/12. There will always be twelve members in EXO.

The teaser photo is perfect. Criticism is drawn when it is released, but EXO does not pay heed.

There is a faded brown imprint of the face of a London clock in a black studio. There are no hands. Each EXO member sits on a space where there should be a number. The camera point of view is overhead, so fans can only see the outline of the body from bird’s eye view. The members all have their faces tilted up, each one of them dressed in alternating white suits, with no discrimination between EXO-K and EXO-M. There are white spotlights shining on them discretely, highlighting some parts of their faces and body to play up a dramatic effect. Each of them has black roses, subtly showing which number they represented. For example, Suho is sitting cross-legged like a schoolboy, with two large rose heads sewn onto his right blazer sleeve. On the other hand, Chanyeol is leaning one hand behind his back, his legs to the side, holding a bouquet of eleven long-stemmed roses with his other hand near his face. There are soft amber spotlights that shine on the positions for twelve and one. These positions are empty, reserved for the two members that will always be, even if they can’t be there.

EXO is twelve. They are one.

Always.

A/N: Because this whole story rides on superstition, why don’t I write an epilogue for the chapter thirteen. It will probably be Yixing coping with the knowledge of having Luhan’s heart. I will also include a proper author’s note to the beautiful subscribers and commenters and readers; & extra information that will otherwise gather dust in my head, like which member was actually supposed to die (not Hunhan).

In this chapter, I like the fact that Jongin is on the road to recovery from his trauma from the accident, but Kyungsoo wasn't, yet. It was my way of showing the indirect echoes of the effect of the accident and how they coped. I like the teaser concept too. This fic revolves around clocks and death (black roses) and life (white suits) after all. When EXO turned up for MAMA in white suits, and their stage with SHINee had a clock - I know I think too much - but I was O_O in shock. 

Please comment, I tried extra hard to give the partly-happy/lighter-angst ending my readers demanded for :S