One step, two step, three step, four. He had a habit of counting his steps. He had a habit of keeping track of his actions, his gestures, his words, everything. He must walk with his back straight, his shoulders squared, his feet moving almost noiselessly across the marble floors. He must address those older than him politely. He must guide those younger than him charismatically. The others would joke that he could balance a stack of books on his head while he walked due to his perfectly poised posture. He tried it once. He reached ten before the tower came toppling down because his hand wasn't long enough to place another on top of the stack.

He was the type to take things seriously. Joking around wasn't his forte. But, he could smile. He would smile when occurrences such as this one happened. When, whilst walking towards the living room in the Hall of the Guardians, a certain young, teleporting Guardian rushed by him completely and utterly . The stark Guardian disappeared down the hallway but not before greeting him as he passed by, "Hi Lay!"

Lay had noticed Kai was getting better with long distance teleportation, but that didn't change the fact that he'd still end up there with not a single article of clothing covering up his eight-year-old body. The result was hysterical for Kai himself, but not at all comical for his mentor.

Kai's mentor with golden hair and glowing green eyes. Kai's mentor who showed up then, not even seconds after Kai went running by. "Lay," he addressed him, "did you see which way that runt went?"

Lay nodded and responded verbally with an affirmative, "Yes," but said not another word. Why? Because Kai's mentor asked if Lay saw which way Kai went. He did not ask Lay if he could point out which way Kai had gone. It was an easy caveat to overcome but Kai's mentor was too impatient to sit there and question Lay endlessly about the whereabouts of his troublemaker of a successor – especially since it would mean having to figure out a way to properly phrase his question such as should he use "can" or "would" or "will," etcetera. So, he spun on his heal and ran in the opposite direction Kai had gone.

Lay couldn't imagine his own mentor running after him so hastily, so exasperatedly, so stubbornly. His own mentor was upright, honest, calm, levelheaded, everything he strived to be. Lay looked up to him. Lay admired him. But, there was something distant about his relationship with his mentor. When all you are is polite, when you only spare a smile here and there, when you don't know how to stubbornly chase after something, when you don't know how to make a fool of yourself, how can you be happy? Contentment isn't happiness. Contentment is settling. And that's exactly what Lay's mentor was teaching him – how to be content in his position as a Guardian of the Tree of Life.

Contentment only feels good when you're satisfied with yourself. When you're happy. One without the other was like an unfinished puzzle. And as a result, while he allowed a small smile to form on his lips at the sight of Kai and his mentor, he felt empty. He didn't want to settle. He wanted to run along with Kai. He wanted to laugh until his stomach hurt. Could he not conduct himself properly while also enjoying himself to the fullest extent?

Lay found that this was the difference between his mentor and himself. Lay wanted, hoped for things beyond what he had. His mentor was content, the rest of the puzzle pieces missing. His mentor didn't share his hope. He didn't share the hope that one day, the waiting would end.

One day, he would have a Seeress to call "his highness" after practicing it to himself for so many countless hours. 

"100." He concluded out loud as he arrived at the place he had been going to all along, the living room. It was exactly one hundred steps from the training room's basement floor all the way to the living room. Counting his steps was a habit. A straight back, squared shoulders, and light footsteps was a posture ingrained in him for as long as he could remember.

But, his laugh was loud.

His smile was bright.

His hope was big. 

Ten-year-old Lay wouldn't settle for content. Maybe he was a bit stubborn then?

Games are fun. That's why he likes to play them. Winning or losing doesn't matter. If only he could make his mentor understand such a simple thing. He decided they just didn't mesh well. They'd never get along. He'd forever be stuck chasing after his mentor's rook with his own, no progress made on either side. It would be a lie if he said it didn't bother him. That he wasn't frustrated about it. Their heads had simply butted so many times that his own hurt to the point where he ran away.

That's right, he ran away from the old man who looked like he was still in his twenties, brown hair freshly cropped, dark blue, almost black, eyes matching his cold personality. His personality which aptly matched the power he once had.

He ran away to his sanctuary, the living room. His mentor probably, no, he one hundred percent knew, that he was hiding out here. He must have. It's where he always went when they fought. Usually it was over petty things – like what and when should something be frozen solid. The conclusion of that argument was that there is never a time where it is okay to line the hallways with ice. But, this time, it was over something bigger. Much bigger. And he figured his mentor had to cool off, as he himself had come here to do, despite the fact that he was quite chilled already.

So, he wasn't expecting the door to open so soon. But, it wasn't his mentor who entered. "Lay?" He questioned, unsure of the younger Guardian's sudden appearance. Had his mentor sent Lay, the responsible one, to talk him down from his anger? It was definitely possible.

"Hey Xiumin," Lay smiled as he rounded the couch, taking a seat down in front of the coffee table across from Xiumin, "Were you playing chess?"

"Kind of." Xiumin answered, uncertain about Lay's intentions. However, based upon the smile he got when he asked his next question, his mentor hadn't asked Lay to come, "Want to play with me?"

"Sure." Lay nodded, reaching out to set up the black pieces on his side of the board. Xiumin began prepping his side as well, silence engulfing the two of them. When he locked eyes with Lay as he finished setting up his pieces, he wasn't able to get out his next statement of 'you can go first," as Lay interjected with, "Did you fight with your mentor again?"

Of course, Xiumin should have known. His mentor may have not sent Lay here but he still seemed to have some kind of ability to read people's minds. He actually went out of his way to help others solve problems, even if they had nothing to do with him. So, what was the point in lying about it? He was pretty obvious already due to the large eyes he was giving Lay as soon as his question left his lips.

"Yeah." Xiumin shrugged, only to sigh afterwards. Normally, he'd have to be the one to give in, to give up and extend the olive branch of peace. But, not this time. This time, he wasn't giving in.

"About what?" Lay asked, moving one of his pawns forward two spaces.

Xiumin watched Lay closely, wondering briefly if he would agree with him or not. Only briefly, because he was sure there was no way Lay wouldn't. And even if he didn't, it was fine. Xiumin wasn't the type to let another's opinions limit his way of thinking.

"He told me that I shouldn't bother learning how to create an ice shield thingy," Xiumin took a deep breathe, calming himself down before continuing, "because there wouldn't be anyone to protect with it anyway." He mindlessly moved his piece forward, his thoughts not focused on the chess game he was having with Lay but instead on his mentor's insinuations. What was he insinuating? He was insinuating that Xiumin would never have a Seeress, just like him.

And Xiumin hated being limited like that. He hated the fact that his mentor was limiting himself as well. In that moment, he hated his mentor. He hated being a Guardian. He hated having a Seeress who wouldn't show up. He didn't want to be like him. Like his mentor. None of his abilities would be useless because the possibilities that existed for him were limitless.

Who was that old man to tell him he wouldn't have a Seeress?

Ice is his power but that doesn't mean that's all it can be. Ice can melt into water. That water can freeze again and fall onto the ground from the skies in the form of pure white snow. That snow can compact into slabs of thicker ice. Thicker ice that could be used to form an ice shield. Because there was a reason to know how to make one, even if there was no one to protect. Even if he ended up never having a Seeress, he could protect himself, he could protect his friends – the other Guardians – and the Exotians with it, couldn't he? Nothing was impossible. Nothing.

"He's an idiot." Xiumin added, moving his knight to take Lay's bishop.

"Yep. He is." Lay answered. Xiumin looked up at him, surprised Lay actually agreed with him considering the fact that he just called his own mentor an idiot. And, he was surprised again as Lay moved his queen, a firm, "Check," leaving his lips.

Xiumin looked to the board in astonishment, his eyes tracking the pieces as he tried to recollect what occurred to put his King in jeopardy. It seemed he had been careless, but it wasn't the end for him. He moved his King to safety easily, giving his rook a clear shot at Lay's queen. His smile stretched from ear to ear and Lay smiled back at him, both of them in store for a long morning game of chess.

Games are fun. In particular, chess is fun. Chess is fun because there are so many moves you can make, so many end results that could be obtained.

And that's why he didn't believe in a limited future.

That's why he didn't believe there was no second option.

Twelve-year-old Xiumin believed in the impossible. Or rather, he believed the word impossible should have been listed as a synonym of possible in the dictionary.

What came first? The chicken or the egg? He would say both. Because both of them rely on each other to exist. Without one there cannot be the other and vice versa. This was just one of many ways his mentor explained the importance of his power to him. To him, it wasn't nearly as cool as fireballs or tornadoes. But, his mentor insisted it was. He was privileged, in a way. He was privileged that his mentor was who he was. He, unlike the other Guardians, knew he had unconditional support behind him. Unconditional love, that's what his mentor called it.

"You're like my own son, you know?" He had said one day.

He had only needed to say those words once for Baekhyun to know he meant it. Because words held sincerity. Because words held warmth. Because words meant something to him. That's why he admired his mentor along with his fellow Guardians, Lay and Luhan. Their eloquence, the way they strung their words together, their concise descriptions and explanations, and the way they said their words as though they spoke the doubtless truth made him admire them.  As a result of this admiration, Baekhyun had developed a personality in which he always said how he felt about things.

He didn't hide his feelings. He didn't cover up his intentions. He didn't hold back for anyone or anything. His words may have not been as beautiful as his mentor's or as polite as Lay's or as scientific as Luhan's but they were his own. And if he didn't express them, who would? If he wasn't there to sharpen the Guardians' vision, if he wasn't there to light their way in the darkness, who would? Chanyeol?

That's the answer Baekhyun gave his mentor when he asked him that same question. He replied in a difficult manner with, "Chanyeol would. He'd just do that huge fireball thing he does and light the way." And his mentor had said with a smile on his face, "Remember the chicken and the egg?"

Without the chicken there would be no egg. Without an egg there would be no chicken. Without the light there would be no darkness. Without the darkness there would be no need for light. Chanyeol could light the way but could he make the darkness disappear? Could his presence or his absence be the deciding factor in whether or not there was darkness in the first place? And what was fire to begin with but a source of light?

When there was darkness, when his fellow Guardians needed an honest opinion, when a girl needed to hear his first impressions of her, he'd give it. He'd be the light. It sounded corny. Kai, Sehun, and Chanyeol all laughed when he told them the story of the chicken and the egg. But, when his mentor said it, he believed it.

He believed his power meant something. The Tree of Life gave it to him out of billions of Exotians. The Sun gave it to the Tree of Life to give to him in the first place. No matter how corny it sounded, it made his power important. It made what he could with his power important. It fit him – his personality and his openness – to a T.

Speaking of his power, today he looked to see if he could find anyone willing to have a small brawl with him, a spar of sorts. He had learnt something new from his mentor yesterday and he wanted to try it out sooner rather than later. This was the reason he bypassed the living room where he heard Lay and Xiumin talking inside – he never did understand the attraction of chess – and instead made his way to the training room. When he arrived not much later, the large circular stone door opening at his slightest touch, he was greeted with a roar akin to a lion.

Except, it wasn't a lion. The owner of the booming voice certainly looked like one though, his auburn hair a quaffed mess on his head as dark brown eyes blazed a fiery red. And despite having no idea what preluded this sight, Baekhyun could make a guess as to what was happening and he didn't like it in the least.

In front of him was the perfect representation of the lion and the lamb, Chen being the lamb, and his mentor being the ferocious lion. Chen was being verbally abused most likely for third or fourth time today.

"Attack! Let your anger out! This is what you were given your powers for!" His mentor spread out his arms as though ready and willing to take any and all strikes, "What good are you if you can't even do anything with it?"

Chen flinched with every other syllable, his eyes clenching shut as his small hands fisted into his shirt. He looked as though he wanted to disappear right then and there. He had told Baekhyun on multiple occasions that he wished he could have Kai's ability.

"Are you just going to freeze up again because of one little incident?" Chen's mentor took a step forward, causing Baekhyun to do the same and causing Chen to take a step back. "People die, Chen. It's normal. It's natural. And if you're the one to make them die with a power given to you by the Tree of Life itself, what's more natural than that?"

Baekhyun prayed for the Tree of Life's roots to spring forth and gobble up the older man right then and there. He prayed the Sun and the Moon could shoot him down where he stands, blot him out of existence, disintegrate him until he's nothing, because wouldn't that be the most natural death in the world? According to him, wouldn't it?

"Hit me with all you've got. Hit me like you want to kill me!"

That's when Baekhyun turned to Chen and he saw something shining in the boy's wet eyes. It was a spark, a twinkle, he had seen multiple times when with his own mentor. Unconditional love. That's what it was. It was the thing Baekhyun respected so deeply, so very much, that it hurt him to see it reflected in Chen's eyes towards his lion like mentor. And it was being crushed, stamped out, and abused by the words – precious, meaningful words – of the one it was directed towards. Baekhyun couldn't stay quiet any longer, not this time. Not that he did or had at any point in time in the past.

"He doesn't want to do it so don't make him." Baekhyun reprimanded him, stepping out of his boundaries when it came to his relationship with Chen's mentor. Baekhyun didn't like him. His words held sincerity, but they didn't hold warmth. They made him angry. They made him angry because they made Chen look lost. The lightning Guardian's mentor turned to him, his eyebrow cocked as if questioning if he heard correctly. As if he wasn't able to register the fact that Baekhyun had just talked down to him.

"It doesn't matter what he wants to do." Chen’s mentor approached Chen with loud, heavy steps. His hand reached out, gripping down onto Chen's shoulder before delivering a harsh shake to the young boy, "It's what he has to do that matters."

Baekhyun didn't like that answer either. He looked to the unresponsive, meek Chen who stood deadly still, his fingers intertwining and undoing themselves over and over again. Why did he just stand there and take this? Why didn't he stand up for himself? Why couldn't his mentor love him as Baekhyun's own did? Why couldn't Chen's mentor love him just as much as Chen loved him?

And Baekhyun's next words were directed towards Chen instead, "You're a Guardian but you're not his," his lips twitched as he gestured to the older man, "Guardian. If you want to run away, then run away."

The funny thing is, he did. As soon as Baekhyun finished his last sentence, Chen tugged himself out of his mentor's grip and ran out of the training room. To where? It didn't matter. All that mattered is that he didn't want to be there. So, he didn't have to be. His mentor wouldn't let him get away that easily and attempted to give chase, only to go stumbling over a pile of weights right after. Baekhyun narrowed his eyes at the sight, concentrating with all of his might on performing the new trick he learned from his own mentor. The same one he was looking to test out earlier.

"Baekhyun," the man called out into the air, the ability to see what was in front of him, much less where Baekhyun was, nonexistent, "you need to stop now. This isn't your business."

"It is my business. Chen's a fellow Guardian. He's my friend." Baekhyun breathed out roughly, one last push all it took for him to distort the man's view temporarily with no more effort on his part.

"His fear will rule him." Chen's mentor yelled at the wall, his back facing Baekhyun.

"And you're only going to make it worse." Baekhyun snarled, wishing he could take the light out of the older man's eyes forever even though he knew his own mentor would never wish for such a thing on anyone. "Your words will never help him."

And Baekhyun left the training room, leaving Chen's mentor to fend for himself for another twenty or so minutes before his vision returned. Chen wouldn't conquer his fear right then and there. It wasn't such an easy thing to overcome. But, he had saved Chen. He had saved him from being scarred deeper by his fear. The knife in his mentor's hand stalled in its onslaught on Chen's already exposed wound.

He was the light.

His words poked holes in the darkness.

Eleven-year-old Baekhyun was the one who said what needed to be yelled to the world. Because if he didn't, who would?

Thunder warns against the impending lightning. He always hears it: the constant, haunting reminder of his past mistake. He always hears it just as the shockwaves travel from one receptor to the next, rushing to the surface of his skin until he can feel it like pins and needles pricking every single inch of his body. It hurts him to use, so how would someone else feel to have it used on them? He wouldn't know.

He would never know.

Should he be happy about that? Should he not? Should he embrace his ability? Was it what was most natural? He didn't know.

What did he want? He didn't know.

He was grasping at any and all threads he could. He was using any and all explanations provided to him by those around him. He's scared, as his mentor said. He'll get over it, as his mentor said. There's nothing he can do to make up for it, as his mentor said. There was no reason to be affected by it, as his mentor said. He should run away from it if he wants to, as Baekhyun said. That last one though was one of the more tangible strands he was able to wrap his fingers around.

It was the explanation that, as it hit his ears, as he processed it, as he comprehended it, he believed in. He wanted to run away. He wanted to get away, even if for just a moment. To do what? To accomplish what?

He would never know.

All he knew is that he ran until he reached the kitchen, ducking down inside as though his mentor would reach out and grab at his shirt, pulling him back, at any second. The room was dark and he didn't bother turning on the light as he quickly took refuge behind the kitchen island. He breathed out in the darkness, his muscles relaxing, his eyelids fluttering downwards. He was able to relax for a moment while he was by himself, when there was no one watching. When he was alone.  

Amidst the darkness, he lifted his hand. He concentrated, just a bit, and a spark flickered from one fingertip to the next. This sort of “shock therapy” always calmed him down. He closed his eyes as he continued the action, his mind clearing, the questions whose answers escaped him disappearing, with each single electric shock. He immersed himself, forgetting that at any moment someone could walk in.

So when the door opened and the lights were flipped on, he flinched. His shoulders squared themselves and he wondered how Lay could have maintained such a posture with ease each and every day. The person apparently caught sight of the spark show he had been putting on because they immediately called out, "Chen?" as soon as they entered.

Chen recognized that voice, and it didn't belong to his mentor. So, now much more fearless, he stood up from behind the kitchen island and met eyes with the younger, time controlling Guardian, Tao. "What were you doing?" Tao asked, curiosity peeked.

Chen parted his lips to answer when he realized he didn't have one. What was he doing? He ended up coming up with one conclusion, "Nothing."

"Can I do nothing too?" Tao asked as soon as the last syllable of the word left Chen's lips. As though he already knew Chen would answer that way. As though it wouldn't have mattered what Chen had said because then and there, Tao pressed his back against the kitchen island and slid down, taking a seat onto the floor. Chen was the one who joined him, the two sitting beside each other on the extravagant marble flooring.

Not a single sentence passed between the two for a good twenty minutes. They were both waiting for the other to say something. Or rather, Chen could tell that Tao was waiting for him to say something. "Doing nothing is boring, you know."

Tao shook his head, "Not really." Chen turned to him, confused as to how doing "nothing" was even remotely interesting. Tao answered his unasked question simply, "Not when you have someone to do nothing with."

And then Tao went silent again, his wrists resting atop his propped up knees. His dark eyes stared forward. His even darker black hair fell over his eyes in shaggy tufts. It was calming to just sit there next to him. To just sit there next to anyone, really. And anyone would sit next to him. Any of the Guardians would, even if they did nothing at all.

"Thanks, Tao." Chen breathed out again, lights on, the feeling of pins and needles but a dull pain drumming at the back of his head.

He wasn't confused and alone.

He was simply confused.

And that was as, if not even more, calming than his self-applied electrotherapy.

Nine-year-old Chen wouldn't figure out how to feel towards his past then. All he knew was that he had eleven other people by his side, aiding him in his own self-discovery.

The clicking down of a clock is a foreboding sound. Its gears are cranking, counting down time with each tick, tock, tick, tock. But to what? What big event? What special occasion? He knew what Chen's clock was counting down to. He looked better than he did yesterday, after all. All thanks to Baekhyun, apparently. But, Baekhyun had not sped up time. Time still ticked forward at its agonizingly slow, endless pace for Chen. The only question was when would the countdown reach zero? When would he figure it all out for himself?

It’s a shame that that quote exists. The one that says, "Lost time is never found again." Because you cannot rewind time. Time cannot be redone. He doesn't have the ability to go back and change it so that Chen would have never experienced what he did. So that Chen would never have set for himself a timer with an unknown time limit. He didn't have that ability.

He never would.

The limitation of his power was something he detested as much as he relished in. He detested it because he, as he was sure everyone did, had regrets. He wished on multiple occasions that he could try again, that he could take something back – whether it be his outburst that caused Kris to take the last of D.O's freshly baked cookies instead of giving it to him or the events that led up to him tripping on a soap trail as he got out of the bathtub. Everyone had regrets. But, he could only slow down or speed up the rate at which regrets were made, not go back and cause them to cease to exist. And yet, at the same time, despite how frustrating it was, he liked this limitation set upon him by the Moon who had created it in the first place.

The door opened just then, revealing a wide-eyed D.O. He didn't expect to see the two sitting there on the kitchen floor, him and Chen. He most likely didn't expect to see anybody at all. As though he were their older sister or mother, he catered to them immediately, "Chen, Tao, were you guys hungry? I was going to make lunch later but I can make a small snack for you two if you–"

He was cut off as Chen abruptly stood up, "Can you?" D.O's lips parted, about to ask what it was exactly that he wanted, before he glanced at Tao. And he read the situation perfectly, as he usually did.

"Sure. I'll bring it to you later." D.O sensibly responded, a small smile on his face as his eyes returned to their normal size – which was still reasonably larger than what was common. Chen left the kitchen, leaving Tao and D.O to stare at each other, underlying messages shared beneath the silence between them. Finally, D.O broke the wordless conversation, "He'll be in the training room, won't he?"

Tao nodded solemnly.

Chen would be going back to his mentor. He ran away just to go running back again. Maybe because he was also tired of it, of watching his never ending clock click down. Reaching nothing. Ending up nowhere.

D.O busied himself in front of the cupboard, standing on his tippy toes in order to reach something that was on a higher shelf. Tao pulled himself up to his feet, deciding to help the older Guardian who was shorter than himself. When he rounded the kitchen island and peeked up to see what it was that D.O wanted however, he spoke up, "Snacks?"

D.O was reaching up for a bag of chips. He turned his head and gave Tao a small smile before he, in one tiny hop, was able to knock the bag off of its high ledge. He caught it right after and shifted past Tao, an assortment of other snacks such as chocolate, sour candies, gumdrops, and the like spread out on the kitchen island’s countertop. Quite literally, D.O was preparing snacks for Chen.

"Don't tell my mentor." D.O pursed his lips, his hands hovering over the tray of food as he finished dumping the last of the chips into a bowl. Tao nodded and usually that was all it took to tell D.O, to tell anyone, that he wouldn't go back on his words.  But, D.O wanted an affirmative. For some reason, he needed more than a "for sure." "Promise?"

Tao nodded again and this time, he vocalized his response, "Promise."

D.O threw him another smile, picking up the tray with both hands and making his way around the kitchen island as he did so. He almost left just like that. Almost. But then, as his foot held open the door, before he took a step outside of the threshold of the kitchen, he looked to Tao again. Why did he need more than a doubtless affirmative? Maybe because he was just as worried about the ticking timer attached to Chen's conscience as Tao and Chen himself were, "Tao, do you think that he'll get over it if he has enough time?"

And at this, Tao didn't nod. Instead, he shook his head. The gesture caused D.O's shoulder to deflate before he even heard Tao's next words, "Time won't fix it. It's what he does with his time that will."

It took a moment for D.O to register Tao's words. It took a moment for him to register the slight hitch of the right corner of Tao's lips into that childish half cocky smirk, half rambunctious smile of his. When he did though, he realized what Tao did. He must have, because his smile was back, wider than ever. "What do you know, huh? You're only eight years old."

"Everything and nothing at all."

Because Tao was only eight years old then. And yet, due to the ability bestowed upon him by the Tree of Life, he had matured ages, even decades, past his fellow Guardians. And he still had a lot more growing to do. And Chen still had a lot more growing to do. And as Tao had said, time wouldn't make Chen grow; it's what he did with his time that would.

What had D.O realize thanks to Tao? Chen just went running back towards what he ran away from. Chen had created a dent in the wall that held him back, that kept him from reaching his full potential. All thanks to Baekhyun, to Tao, and to a small gesture from D.O. In one simple word, Chen had attained progress. No matter how events took place in the past, something that was out of Chen's control, the future was what he had to look towards. The future is what dictated whether that timer of his would ever hit zero.

That's what Tao loved about his power over time.

No matter what regrets were made in the past, no matter what regrets would form as he made time pass by in the blink of an eye, time forced him to look forward.

To keep moving forward.

To keep growing.

Eight-year-old Tao may have done a lot of growing already but there were still many more regrets for him to have. And he was looking forward to them, because he was determined to keep on growing. He looked to the future with bright eyes and open arms.

There are slabs of rock beneath the surface of the planet called tectonic plates. They shift back and forth, they mesh against each other, they interact with each other out of our sight. It is their role to cause earthquakes, to create new land over long extensions of time, to cause volcanic eruptions as they see fit, on Exo Planet. They have an unchanging role.

There will never be more water on Exo than there is at the current point in time. Water is recycled over and over again. Ice may melt but it was already frozen water to begin with. Water gives life over and over again. Water sustains life over and over again. Water has an ever-unchanging role just as the plates that make up the ground below our feet do.

There are just things that exist on the planet, in the world, that fit particular roles. Particular titles.

And his was certainly one he never imagined he would have. And yet, he innately fit it so well.

“They have twelve fathers, they need a mother.” His mentor had told him when he was six. At the mere age of six, he learned how to make pancakes. When he was seven, he moved onto baked goods such as crème brûlée and homemade choco pies. When he was eight, he cooked a lobster for the first time – it was much easier than he anticipated once he got over the fact that its beady eyes were pleading for its life as he closed the lid of the pot. On a side note, he never cooked lobster again. Neither crab, nor shrimp, nor octopus. No fresh seafood whatsoever. It made him feel guilty. As he ate that same lobster he cooked, he had cried. He cried the entire night straight.

It was because he felt connected to anything that fed off of the planet. Off of the ground underneath his feet. Off of the water that spread across the land. His nickname given to him by his mentor out of affection – at least he hoped it was affection and not out of the fun of teasing him – was “Mother Nature.” So then, he was like a mom in that respect.

And, well, he was the only one good at cooking. So that was that. He was mom. He cooked for his eleven brethren every morning, afternoon, and night, two or three pitching in to help him like filial sons every single time.

So then, he wouldn’t exactly be that good of a mother to them if he didn’t heed Chen’s silent request for support in the form of food. Especially since when it came to food, he could provide limitless support. That’s why he was on his way to the training room, a tray of snacks in hand, after leaving Tao to start preparing the ingredients for lunch – which meant he should return sooner rather than later.

But of course, a mother’s work is never done. A mother must pay attention to all of his children, including the one that came sneaking up behind him like a predator stalking its prey of the sugarcoated variety.

“What’s that ya got there?” Kai sauntered up behind D.O, a sly smile on his face.

"Snacks." D.O informed him, his voice monotone, "And they're not for you."

"I see." Kai hummed as he nodded his head, his eyes closed in understanding. But, D.O knew that look was fake. He knew the look that followed it as soon as Kai's eyes fluttered open was the one that more aptly fit his intentions.

“Can you not look as though you’re about to swallow them whole if I give you the chance?” D.O sighed, exasperated. Kai was the most tenacious one when it came to food, following Chanyeol and Xiumin. “You look like a wolf on the prowl for snacks with that grin on your face. Quit it.”

“Me, the wolf?” Kai pointed an accusatory finger at himself, his eyes wide and his lips parted in mock surprise. But then, as he lowered his index finger, a large smile that spread from ear to ear formed on his face. And this time, his finger directed itself towards D.O himself,  “It’s funny you say that because now that you mention it, D.O, what big eyes you have.”

“Stop it.” D.O commanded, his eyebrows knitting forward in frustration at the fact that Kai had spun his own words around in order to use them against him.

Still, Kai persisted, his white canines never looking as sharp as they did now, "And what big ears you have.”

“Seriously, Kai?” D.O rolled his eyes as he continued to walk forward, undeterred by Kai in the least.

“And what big lips you have.” And that last one earned him swift kick in the knee, coupled with the rising of marble from underneath him that clamped down onto his feet, making him unable to move. Kai tipped forward, not expecting the sudden pressure to root him in place, and his hands went out to catch him before he fell flat on his face.

“I told you already, they aren’t for you. They're for Chen.” D.O explained as the raised marble sunk back into the floor and Kai straightened himself up again, albeit slowly.

Finally, it seemed as though D.O's denial hit Kai. Kai, like the other Guardians, knew what had occurred in the past, specifically Chen's past. He also knew exactly how Chen's mentor viewed the entire event. “It happened again?” He questioned, his lips pouting as his pace slowed until he came to a full stop. D.O stopped as well, his heart squeezing, his chest suffocating under the weight of what felt like ten textbooks, at the mere sight of Kai's down-and-out, genuinely dejected expression.

He couldn't take it anymore as Kai's mellow eyes lifted upwards and locked with his own. He ended up giving in, “Fine, you can have one piece of chocolate.” And like he had unleashed the beast waiting to spring forth this entire time, Kai's hand snatched up two chocolate bars of the three that were on the tray. Kai quickly backed away, not looking to incur the wrath of D.O from such a short distance. “Hey! I said one!”

“Thanks, mom!” And like a puff of smoke, before he could even react, Kai was gone, everything but his clothes going with him. And this only left D.O one option as to his next course of action: soft laughter from a set of smiling lips as he continued on down the hallway.

He was mom.

He was the peacemaker.

He was Mother Nature.

Nine-year-old D.O wouldn't admit it then, but he didn't mind being mom. D.O wouldn't admit it then, but he cared for his eleven fellow Guardians much more than he let on.

A/N: 

I decided to make this a special chapter in celebration of EXO's "Wolf" release. As you can tell, this chapter is labeled as "Pieces of What Used to Be (I)." The title has to do with the fact that the entire chapter was made up of small excerpts of the same day from the perspective of six of the Guardians (in this chapter there was Lay, Xiumin, Baekhyun, Chen, Tao, and D.O). These excerpts included insight on the situation they were in ten years ago -- before their mentors left them on their own -- along with how they felt about it. It certainly connects to who they are now and I hope you enjoyed reading it. 

I'll be updating sometime next week as well with part II (which will finish up with Kris, Chanyeol, Suho, Sehun, Luhan, and Kai) along with the usual update that will occur not tomorrow but next Sunday (as per usual). Why? Because as much as I love cliff hangers, I don't want to make you guys wait too long before you can find out what happened after the last chapter. Plus, this way, you all can focus more on each member! (More than you would if all twelve were included into one chapter!) Am I smart or what? I think I am. Oh yeah.