How high up was he? Tens of feet. Hundreds of feet? Maybe even thousands of feet? How high up was he? How high that the Exotians below were but small, ant sized dots busying themselves in their usual routine? How high that the birds flew so close to his head each time they soared by? How high that the rising sun seemed to peek from behind the gray clouds, lighting up only his high flying world for this moment in time?

Flying.

How high could he fly?

Could he fly over all of it? Over everyone? Over everything?

What were his limits? And could he push past them?

How crazy would he be if he lifted up his heels and leaned forward right now, pushing himself past his tipping point, sending himself over the edge of the high heights he now stood above?

“Really, Kris? You just learned how to hover a foot above the ground without flipping and flying this way and that uncontrollably, and you already want to chuck yourself off of the roof of the People’s Court?” An admonishing voice sounded from behind him, ringing above the sound of the wind that rushed through even the tiniest fibers of his clothes. “If that’s not crazy, what is?” He turned, meeting eyes with a pair of big, darker brown ones. Coffee brown eyes that were coupled with a hint of an excited smile, “Though, I’m okay with crazy.”

But, Kris wasn’t supposed to be. He wasn’t supposed to be okay with crazy. He was supposed to stay level-headed, calm, and most of all, safe. Safe high above the ground only when the time was right. And that time was not now, according to his mentor. His mentor who had no idea that he was here right now.

“I won’t jump.” Kris said in response to Chanyeol, his eyes lifting from the ground below and instead resting upon the bluish-gray of the sky that spread out far over the horizon, far off into the distance. “Not today anyway.” Kris shrugged his shoulders, his feet unmoving as he stayed rooted in his spot, a smile on his face.

“What’s it feel like anyway?” Chanyeol suddenly asked, the playful tone in his voice nowhere to be found. Instead, he was genuinely curious. Genuinely wanting to know how it felt. How it felt to what?

How it felt to fly.

Kris didn’t have an immediate answer to his question. It wasn’t something that could be so easily explained. But, for some reason, he felt like it was. The weightlessness as his heels lift from the ground, soon followed by his toes that spread out, stretching as the planet’s gravity no longer weighs heavy on his feet. The freeing of his head of any and all thoughts as he floats high on cloud nine, thinking of nothing else, completely at peace. The trill that goes down his spine as the thrill of going higher and higher spreads through his veins. It’s a crazy, calming feeling.

Overall, he really could simply sum it up into one word. Because it wasn’t complicated. It was the farthest from it.

“Good.” Kris answered, short and sweet.

Was crazy supposed to feel that good? His mentor would say no. He was supposed to be anything but. Perhaps it was because he was young, because they were all young, that everything they were supposed to do didn’t sound as good as what they wanted to do, as what they were already doing, as what Kris was already doing: standing on the edge of the rooftop of the People’s Court. Perhaps it was because he was young that he liked the feeling of crazy. 

“Really?” Chanyeol questioned, except it didn’t sound like a question at all. It sounded more like an apathetic statement. A deep, reflective comment not directed towards Kris but towards himself. Kris turned his head, taking in the frame of the younger boy who threatened to surpass him in height each day – though that day hadn’t come as of yet. The boy was looking down at his fingers. His fists clenched and unclenched themselves slowly, his eyes trained on each movement.

Kris didn’t know what was wrong. He wouldn’t pretend he did. Chanyeol was harder to decipher than the others, though Kai was leading him in the “what in the world is he thinking?” category. But, while he couldn’t tell what was bothering Chanyeol, he could at the very least make an educated guess as to the reason Chanyeol was staring at his palm so intensely.

“It suits you.” Kris spoke up, gaining the attention of the spaced out fire-controlling Guardian. “Your power that is.”

Chanyeol looked back at him, brown eyes empty, as though he were searching for something, “Does it?”

“You’re crazy, it’s crazy.” Kris shrugged again, turning back towards the vast sky that spread out in front of the two of them, “You two are a perfect match.”

And silence is what followed his words. Silence as bird chirped in the distance. As heavy, industrial sounds of the city below vibrated through the air. As the air itself swam through his fingers.

And that’s when Chanyeol said, his voice soft, almost silent, almost getting drowned in the silence around them, “Thanks, Kris.”

“No problem.” Was the response he replied with as he heard Chanyeol’s footsteps depart from his side, a large metal sound signifying that the younger boy had left the rooftop.

What was it that Chanyeol had come to him for this early afternoon? What means to an end was he searching for? Whatever it was, Kris’s words seemed to comfort him even for just a moment. Even if just for a single second, the word “crazy” never sounded so right.

He wouldn’t jump off today. Not now. Not yet. But, he was looking forward to it. 

Was crazy supposed to feel that good?

He’d say yes.

Twelve-year-old Kris had an affinity with the unusual. With those who walked paths far from the norm. With crazy.

He wasn’t like the others. How so? What made him different? Well most obviously, what he could do set him apart. It made him unique. But, in what other way was he different? There was indeed an answer to this question. What was it exactly?

Well, if he had to say when he first started feeling how he did, how he does, it would be when he learned the meaning of the word “personality.” A personality is what sets one person apart from another. A personality transfers into quirks a person exhibits, habits a person maintains, and actions that a person takes.

Adventurous. Dependable. Fearless. Impartial. Dutiful. Observant. Helpful. Meticulous. Obedient. Trusting. Sarcastic. Cowardly. Impulsive. Boorish. Self-centered. Arrogant.

All of these, perhaps none of these, and more combine to make up a person’s personality. To create the person themselves. Their consciousness. Their thoughts. Their actions. Their feelings. The good and the bad, the positive and the negative, all of it.

All of it.

And none of it at all.

How so? They say a parent at times molds their child into the person they wish for them to be, the person they never were, or the person who is their exact replica. He felt as though he were the later. A replica.

A copy of his mentor.

Short, black, cropped hair. Thick brows. Narrow eyes whose irises disappeared amidst his eyelashes whenever his expression went from one of neutrality to happiness; or in some cases casual to livid.

Their differences made it all the more difficult for him – the absence of them that is.

“Chanyeol.” Someone suddenly called his name from behind, causing him to do an about face. And on reflex, naturally, a smile danced across his lips.

“What’s up, Suho?”

Suho stalled in his words. For what reason? Chanyeol wasn’t able to ponder on that question for much longer as a question of Suho’s own left him instead, “Are you going somewhere?”

Chanyeol’s mind went blank. Was he? He glanced back behind him where Suho’s eyes had gestured to while he asked his question. It was the entrance of the Hall of the Guardians that he was standing in front of. So then, his feet brought him here on his own. Again, for what reason? Everything seemed certain and uncertain at the same time.

“Yeah.” He ended up deciding then and there with a shrug of his shoulders, “I’m thinking of going out for a walk topside.”

Suho nodded back, a serene smile on his face, the one he so naturally displayed whenever he committed the action, “Well, stay safe.” And he turned to go just like that.

Among the Guardians, there were two whose powers were granted to them by the Sun and by the Moon first. These two are the ones who Chanyeol considered, who were considered by all, to be the leaders of the Guardians. Kris, who received his power of flight from the Moon first, is the leader of the Guardians whose powers hail from the Moon. Suho was his other half. Suho, who received his power over water manipulation from the Sun first, is the leader of the Guardians whose powers hail from the Sun.

And this meant that technically, Suho was his leader. Even with the position of the Seeress superseding these two, they were still akin to commanding officers of five others. This made them more reliable. Or rather, more likely to be relied on.

And on this occasion, Chanyeol had relied on Kris and now sought out Suho’s reliable consensus concerning his question. Considering the question that was a mere façade to his real concerns.

“Suho?” He stopped the older Guardian from going any further. Suho pivoted on his heel, his head tilting to the right as if to silently ask what it was that Chanyeol wanted. “Do you think my power suits me?”

If they entered a game show and one of the questions was whose power was most useful out of all of the Guardians, his name would be the answer. His was the most useful. But, what was the use of him exactly? Even this question wasn’t the one he wanted to ask. The one he couldn’t form into words properly now and in the future.

“Well, what do you think?” Suho asked back, his lips pursing forward. 

There’s that saying that says where there’s smoke, there’s fire. It’s an expected result. It’s logical, sound reasoning. When the smoke signal goes off, he’s there. When he’s expected to react, he does. He does in the way that’s predictable. Because where there’s smoke, there’s fire. Always and forever.

He’s an unchanging, unwavering flame.

But, his use, what was it? What was his purpose? When would he no longer be able to react only where the smoke begins to rise? He knew what he could do. But, for what did he strive for? For what feeling did he live for?

“I don’t know.” Chanyeol honestly responded, another shrug of his shoulders because even his body wasn’t sure how else to react.

Suho imitated the action, though that smile of his was still there, “Then how am I supposed to know?”

That was an answer he wasn’t expecting. Yet, in a way, it was the beginning of the one he was looking for. One only he would know.

He wasn’t like Kris. Kris knew what he wanted. He wanted to fly. He wanted to feel nothing holding him back as he floated high above everything, above all of it. If only he could do the same. If only he was anything but a fixed, static flame. If only he could figure out how to burn more brightly. Hotter. Quicker. Like an explosion in the eyes of all those around him. He didn’t want to be predictable. He didn’t want to fall into the same pattern over and over again.

But, who would he be then?

But, what would he do then?

But, following the pattern was easy. It’s what he could fall back on anytime in any place. So, he did.

He continued to act as his mentor did.

He continued to not know how to describe himself and the pieces that made him up – the pieces of his personality.

Ten-year-old Chanyeol failed to receive closure. He wouldn’t receive it until much, much later. 

The planet is just one big ocean. Not in the most literal sense either. Rather, in the more figurative of senses. You see, all of us are just floating out there, in this big ocean, wading water – even those of us who claim we don’t know how to swim – as we go about our daily lives. Creating ripples around us in our own little section of water, causing ripples to go flowing through another’s tiny pool that only they know, that only they can experience. And yet, the impact of that ripple is not reduced to nothing. It’s there. Slight. Small. Seemingly insignificant. And yet it is. It is significant.

It is because that small ripple can bring about a tidal wave.

That small ripple can change someone’s life.

We’re all just floating, adrift in an ocean of blue. Waiting. And waiting. And waiting for those ripples. For those waves. Anticipating it. Anxiously awaiting it. Knowing that no one lives in their own bubble. No one has their own, inflatable yellow, polka dotted kiddie pool just for them. Everyone can affect everyone and everything else.

That’s how he saw the world. That’s how he saw Exo Planet.

And just now, he had sent a small ripple, a slight tremor, reverberating through Chanyeol’s waters. Something he did, or rather something he said, caused Chanyeol’s usual bright, beaming smile to falter, just for a moment, before it was back again. Plastered on tightly, not a single air bubble in between, onto his lips.

It was an act. It was an act Chanyeol believed in to the fullest. He could tell that no one else knew – unlike how everyone could see so plainly the reason Chen was afflicted with the fear of using his own power. And it made him sad. It made him sad that no one else could feel the ripples pleading for help that Chanyeol created as he struggled to say afloat. As he struggled to stay himself – whoever that person was.

And it made him sad. It made him sad that he didn’t know how to help. It made him sad that all he could do was send small waves right back, urging him to keep swimming. Just keep swimming. Because one day, he’d find it. One day, that tidal wave would find him.

When? And how?

When and how did Kai appear just then, his voice startling him into knocking against the wall of the hallway?

“You know what, Suho?” Kai bit down into a piece of chocolate, his clothes nowhere to be found, and chewed as though the sight of him doing such in such attire was in no way new.

“Kai.” Suho sighed, shaking his head in disapproval, “Clothes.” It was the only word he provided yet he knew Kai knew what he meant. He meant, ‘please put some clothes on.’ But, Kai remained unfazed, his words continuing on as though he hadn’t even heard Suho’s comment.

“I think he’s too far gone to be helped by us now.” Kai waved his chocolate in the air as though casting a magic spell, an entrancing smile dancing across his lips, “But, we won’t have to be the ones who help him.”

“You mean he’ll have to help himself?” Suho questioned, only to received an amused grin from Kai – one that seemed to insinuate something – in response before like dust in the wind, Kai disappeared as quickly as he had arrived.

And it only took a moment for that ripple to wash over him. For Kai’s words to make sense. Kai believed beyond any and all doubt that she would come one day. That she would be the one to keep Chanyeol above the water line. She would be the one who kept him from drowning, from sinking to the bottom where his red, orange, and yellow light faded amidst the deep blue.

She.

Her.

The Seeress of Exo.

To Suho, it seemed impossible now. It seemed nearly impossible that she would show up now when there was not a single word to be heard about her anywhere. Not even a small drop of water into the great, big ocean that hinted that she was out there, looking for them somewhere.

And yet, with that one underlying message, that one smile from Kai, he could feel it. He could feel that faraway wave, one that had been reduced to nothing more than a fleeting splash, a weak current, wash against him. He could feel himself start to believe in it just a bit more as well.

With just a few words, Suho’s hope for the future was restored.

With just a small, spirited smile, he decided he’d wait a little longer for her.

Twelve-year-old Suho let the little things impact him. He let the small, miniscule actions of others, words of others, define them. Define him. Define his hopes and his dreams. Because it really was the little things that made a difference.

High expectations cripple you. They drive you into a corner where you starve to death on the little scraps that actually manage to meet your standards. You eventually die waiting for that big moment, that big change, that big embodiment of your expectations to walk up to you in your dark, secluded corner and say, “Hello, nice to meet you.”

And he’d say, “Where were you?”

Where were you? Where are you now? Now, as he begins to thin, his fingers turning pallid, his cheeks losing their rosy color, his eyes dulling into pitch black pits of nothing. Pits that see no light at the end of the tunnel. And now he’s stuck in that pit, waiting for you. Waiting for the idea of you. Waiting for even the slightest hint of you.

And it’s hard. But, he’s doing it. He’s doing it because he wants to believe you’ll approach his corner some day. That someday, you’ll make a left and stumble upon him dressed in brilliant white embroidered in gold, just like in your picture. Just like in the picture he stared at for at least an hour each day before he went to bed.

“No matter how much you stare, Sehun, she won’t jump off the page and come to you.” His mentor told him. No matter how disdainful he sounded, his voice was warm, genuine, soothing. He was teasing him, pulling at his strings because he knew exactly how to make the puppet move. He knew exactly what to say to get Sehun to finally stop gawking and say something as the two sat on the floor of the library in the Hall of the Guardians, a book open in front of them.

A book depicting images of the previous Seeress of Exo. The Seeress of Exo. The one who Sehun was waiting for. The one he had high expectations for. The one he was getting frustrated towards for making him wait for so long. And yet, at the same time, he was anticipating it. He wanted to see what she looked like. He liked to imagine what she looked like. Long, flowing brown hair. Bright, shining eyes that twinkle like the stars he sees out his window every night as he looks at the previous Seeress. Page after page after page of her. Her and her Guardians that came before his own mentor and his brethren.

Her name was Ela.

Would his Seeress’s name roll of his tongue as easily? Would it? He expected it to. He wanted it to. And because he was childish, because he was curious, he posed a question to his mentor whose larger arm wrapped securely around him, a fatherly smile on the man’s face.

“What do you think her name will be?”

“Hmm,” his mentor pondered for a moment, only for a single moment, “I don’t know.”

“Probably something beautiful.” Sehun concluded with a nod, his eyes still trained down at the picture of the previous Seeress sitting in the garden of the Hall of the Guardians – a smile on her face he had put on a pedestal as the most beautiful thing he had ever seen so many times and yet still, it remained so.

“Probably.” His mentor mused with a sigh, his smile gone, the warmth of his hand gone. His single worded response was anything but hopeful as he remained deadpanned, despite the cautious look Sehun now threw him.

“It will be.” Sehun asserted, his fingers clutching onto the book defensively, “She’ll show up. She’ll be beautiful. Her name will be beautiful. Everything about her will be beautiful. And then, she’ll marry me when we get older.”

A pipe dream. That’s what such thoughts were. That’s what such words were. And yet, he said them. He said them as though he believed in them beyond any and all doubt. Because well, he did. He truly did.

“Sehun, you know you can’t do that.” His mentor tried to reason with him, preparing the same old speech he had heard so many times before. The same speech over the same topic, discussing the same thing, coming to the same conclusion. A conclusion that didn’t meet his standards. That didn’t rise to his expectations.

He tore himself and the book away from his mentor, leaving the older man with only a sullen, regretful expression on his face as he bolted from the living room into the foyer. He held the book that held her image, his hopes, his dreams, to his chest so tightly it would seem as though he would die if someone tried to take it away. He ran past the kitchen, past the living room, and past a worried Suho who called after him saying, “Sehun, wait!”

But, he didn’t want to wait. He wanted now. He wanted then. He wanted. He wanted help. So he ran to the very person who could help him.

Having high expectations isn’t always bad.

Sometimes, it’s a good thing.

How so?

Because you don’t settle for hopelessness.

He didn’t settle for the predetermined existence set upon him by those who came before him.

Eight-year-old Sehun set things to a standard. A standard that changed as often as he went from happy to angry. From calm to bursting with energy as he sprinted even now. A standard that while it changed in form, in overall shape, never fell from its pinnacle.

"Chanyeol is going out."

"What's that, Luhan?" His mentor suddenly asked, not able to hear the boy's low mumble.

"Nothing." He responded, diverting the older man's suspicions with his next statement, "It just looks like it's going to rain today, is all."

Silence engulfed the two of them once more, as it usually did. It was a comfortable silence. A silence that Luhan was already well acquainted with to the point where it no longer bothered him as much as it did at first.

At first, when he was suddenly separated from everyone else at the young age of six. It had been five years since then and he no longer threw fits, stomping his feet on the ground as he hollered about how unfair it was that he couldn't play outside with the others. He no longer attempted to get his way using his power – raising the poor older man high above the door until he was flattened against the ceiling itself. He no longer wanted to leave at every second of the day, the itch to escape somewhere deep beneath the layers of his clothing, of his skin, gnawing at him until he felt raw to the very core. He, just, no longer.

It was as simple as that.

This was his retribution. He only needed that to be explained to him once to understand that this was necessary.

It was as simple as that.

It was as simple as it was easy to predict that Kai's mentor would slam the door open just then, especially when Luhan had seen the man's image speeding off down the hall through one of the larger orbs that levitated in front of him just earlier; the colorful images they displayed contrasting with the vast, endless darkness that surrounded him on all sides. Darkness that the light from the hallway outside pierced through as the door opened.

"Hey," Kai's mentor greeted Luhan and his own mentor, his eyes scanning the room in search for something, or rather someone, before he spoke again. And with his next words he regaled them with the rather obvious explanation as to why he huffed and puffed this way and that, gleaming white teeth bearing in frustration, "have you seen Kai anywhere?"

Luhan's mentor deafly shook his head. The other man tsked and groaned loudly, running his fingers through his hair. That's when Luhan's mentor glanced back at him, his eyes sending a message that Luhan understood immediately.

"I haven't seen him." Luhan gestured with a tilt of his head towards various images that flickered in front of him – one being Xiumin and Lay playing chess in the living room, another being Chen, D.O, Baekhyun, and Chen’s mentor in the training room, and another being Tao prepping lunch with Suho in the kitchen. Yet, no Kai. No Kai anywhere.

Kai’s mentor only grew more solemn due to his words, proceeding to bang his head just once onto the frame of the doorway, holding back with all his might the scowl that was surely trying to form on his face.

“I’ll help you find him.” Luhan’s mentor suddenly volunteered, causing Luhan’s eyes to go wide. He hadn’t expected that in the least. Before he could question why he had offered to help such a helpless struggle, his mentor spoke first, “I think your guest will want some privacy.”

And not even seconds after his mentor left with Kai’s own, Luhan learned the meaning of his mentor’s words. How so? Just then, a less than pleased looking Sehun busted into the room, closing the door and flipping on the light switch behind him almost immediately. The sudden intrusion of light into his eyes caused Luhan to squint as buckled over, shielding himself with the back of his hand; keeping himself wrapped in darkness a single second longer before he relinquished himself to it. Before he relinquished himself to the off-white color the shone on all four walls that surrounded him, that closed around him.

“Sehun?” He called; taking a seat down into a chair he knew would not be far from where he now stood, “What’s going on?” As soon as the last syllable of his inquiry left him, through his blurred eyes he saw something brown come flying down towards his thighs. And then, he felt it. He felt the sudden impact of leather on his panted legs and he yelped as pain surged through him. “What is that?” He asked out of urgency, his voice a whimper.

He shouldn’t have had to ask. He should have known by now exactly what it was that Sehun would come running to him for at this time of day. Right before he went to bed, he always looked at it. Right before lunch, he always looked at it. Right before lunch, Sehun always looked through this same book. This same record book that contained various pictures of the last Seeress of Exo, Ela Nektor. Luhan himself looked at it once, just once, on his own. But, he couldn’t bring himself to open it of his own volition after that. He felt wrong doing so. He felt he was doing wrong by doing so.

Another thing Luhan should have known is the sentence that then proceeded to leave Sehun’s lips, “My dumb mentor said I can’t marry her when I get older again!”

Luhan merely stared at him in response. For how long? He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t sure how long it had been until Sehun finally understood the gravity of his own words. Until he finally understood that he was wrong, that he was committing a wrong, by even uttering such a thing.

Unfortunately, it seemed as though Sehun mistook Luhan’s look, his sincere stare that he had given him so many times in the past, for something different. For something Luhan wasn’t expecting in the least. For something that pierced through him just as much as the light that continued to pour down from the ceiling into his dilated irises.

“Luhan will be the one who marries our Seeress first, right?”

Luhan was left speechless. His jaw hung open. His thoughts stilled. And what proceeded was the sound of tempered glass falling against the marble flooring of his room; pieces of what used to be the translucent orbs that previously precariously hovered in midair spread across the floor. Sehun jumped back in surprise but then, as his gaze traveled back to Luhan, he got a large grin on his face.

A large, devious smirk that he would continue to show even ten years from then. Even twenty years from then. Even thirty, forty, or fifty years from then. No matter how much time went by, he’d be there to show it in response to Luhan’s current blank expression.

Luckily, or rather unluckily, Luhan didn’t have to respond to Sehun’s sudden outburst. Why? Because someone else did.

“No,” a voice sounded from behind the two, a unclothed, mischievous looking Kai leaning back against Luhan’s dresser, “I’ll be the one who’ll marry her first.”

Luhan turned in his seat, ready to retort against Kai’s words. But, his words stuck in his throat. He could say nothing. He was left dumbfounded as to how normal such a declaration sounded. Such a declaration towards a commitment that wasn’t in the least bit normal.

Again, Luhan didn’t have to say a single word as another voice entered the conversation from the entrance of his room, the door now hanging open, allowing golden tinted light to stream into the room. The new voice’s owner walked into the room, stripping his black, ceremonial robe off of his shoulders before throwing it at Kai, “I’m not exactly sure I like where this conversation is going.”

Kai caught it without much difficulty, his lips hitching endlessly upwards, “Jealous?”

“More like in a state of utter disbelief due to the nonsense you’re spewing.” Kris rolled his eyes, his eyebrows quirking upwards as if to say, ‘now hurry up and get dressed.’

“Since we’re calling dibs,” Baekhyun waltzed into the room, his hands in his pockets as he hummed before seemingly coming to a decision, “I call third.” Once he spotted the mess of glass on the floor, he whistled in awe. Luhan quickly gathered it into one pile with a simple swipe of his hand, leaving it there to be cleaned up at a later point in time.

“Third? Seriously? Why?” Chanyeol entered behind him, the taller boy easily slipping his arm around his shoulders with the means to lean against him.

“It’s a nice, precise number.” Baekhyun answered him, shrugging Chanyeol’s lanky frame off of him. “What about you?”

“This isn’t—“ Luhan started, only to be interrupted by someone he least expected.

“Lunch is ready!” D.O poked his head into the doorway, a smile on his face. Chen could be seen walking past him in the hallway, Tao at his side – the two having accompanied him in telling everyone the good news.

“First one there gets an extra serving of everything and anything.” And due to such a teasing, challenging remark leaving Chen’s mouth just then, Xiumin appeared out of nowhere behind him, sprinting towards the dining room post haste.

“Not today, Mr. Freeze.” Tao muttered beneath his breath, a smile on his face as he sped off from Chen’s side, most likely reaching Xiumin in no time due to the grunt of dissatisfaction that echoed down the hall right after. And not even seconds later, Chanyeol and Baekhyun fought to exit the door first, causing quite the sight as a battle of flailing of limbs ensued before Baekhyun was the one who squished through first.

“You’d think they’re a pack of hungry wolves.” Suho joked, his own canines appearing sharper at the mention of extra servings as he grinned. As he grinned before he himself took off down the hallway.

“Come on, let’s eat.” Lay peeked inside the room from above D.O, seemingly more cheerful, seemingly more casual, than usual. And just like that, a slack jawed, wordless Luhan ended up following the eleven other boys to the dining room. And as he sat down, he listened in silence to the topic of conversation that enraptured them at the current moment in time.

“Why can’t I be seventh? It’s a lucky number, ya know?” Chanyeol argued with Baekhyun.

“It’s just weird that you would want to be that far down. Don’t you want to be higher up? Like, I dunno, fifth?” Baekhyun pursed his lips as he pulled a chair out for himself.

“Fifth is mine.” Kris raised his hand, claiming the place right then and there in an uncharacteristically childish yet oh-so-characteristically Kris manner. He shot Chanyeol a glare coupled with the a pair of threatening, furrowing brows before continuing, “so, no fifth for Chanyeol.”

“I don’t want it anyway.” Chanyeol retorted, sinking down into his seat at the rectangular dining table.

“Then I want sixth.” Tao spoke up pointedly, only to be shot down right after by D.O.

“Chen said he wanted to be sixth though.” D.O glanced over at Chen who then began to cough uncontrollably, as he was in the middle of taking a sip of water.

“Since when?” Chen shouted, his voice squeaking and out of tune due to his previous coughing fit.

“Since just earlier.” Lay politely informed him, a sincere look on his face as though he only wished to aid in the situation Chen now faced. Chen sighed and buried his head down beside his plate, resigning to it now that Lay so kindly told everyone the words he had whispered to D.O and Lay himself earlier in secret. A secret that wasn’t kept. Not that he should have expected it to be by the two most open Guardians of all.

“Places don’t really matter.” Suho attempted to comfort Chen, only to have the ever-boasting Kai speak less than helpful words right after.

“Well, like I said, I’m first.” He readjusted Kris’s robe on his shoulders – the older Guardian had a taller and broader frame than himself – before continuing on, “and I was first here too. So one extra serving of everything for me.” His hands reached over the food that splayed out in front of them only to be whacked back by a quick-to-act, unrelenting, and reprimanding D.O. There were also grumbles debating about the fairness of Kai’s win that circulated the table just then.

“It’s settled. We’ll all marry her eventually.” Sehun concluded with a clap of his hands.

“The possibilities are endless.” Xiumin replied nonchalantly, shrugging his shoulders as their mentors then began to file in; Kai’s in particular looking a bit peeved to which the young Guardian merely smiled innocently at.

It seemed as though nothing bothered the rest of Guardians.

It seemed as though nothing bothered them as much as it bothered him.

As much as it bothered Luhan.

And yet, this comforted him.

Perhaps there was nothing to worry about. As long as the twelve of them stayed together, as long as this current reality never changed, was never fazed by anything, there was nothing to worry about.

Eleven-year-old Luhan honestly didn’t want anything to change. He honestly didn’t want to find their Seeress. Maybe that’s why he never looked hard enough. Maybe that’s why Kai deserved the right to claim first.

A/N: 

Sometimes, I promise things. Sometimes, I can't keep these promises. But, what can you do, right? What can Baekhyun do about the fact that he'll never be as tall as Chanyeol? Nothing. (Recycling old jokes because I can.) It's late, but it's here. Oh! And I would also like to note that I write things for a reason. Was there a Kai section in here? No. Was Luhan's section formatted as the other's were? No. Did Chanyeol's section end off on a good note? No. All for a reason. All in order to peak your interests even further. I'll see you all next week!