After five years the carnival still doesn’t feel like home to Jongin. Their troupe consists mostly of adults who never give Jongin the time of day. He is only spoken to when there are chores to be done, or when he must prepare for his performance. The only one close to Jongin’s age is Chanyeol, but they’ve never gotten along, mainly because the show master – Baekhyun – keeps them separated. Chanyeol is Baekhyun’s favourite among the performers, his fire eating being a popular act that draws in patrons. Compared to him, Jongin makes very little money for the troupe. It has gotten to the point where his teleportation is used as an opener for Chanyeol’s fire eating, and not an act in and of itself.

Jongin passes by the area where Chanyeol is practising with an unlit baton. Even if his act is popular, it is not perfect. Jongin can see the burn scars running Chanyeol’s arms and what his shirt shows of his chest. During performances, Chanyeol wears a long sleeved shirt to cover the scars.

Jongin has perfected his own act. He moves so deftly, not even the quickest spectator would be able to guess his trick. Still, it’s not good enough for Baekhyun. Not flashy or dangerous enough.

Sometimes Jongin wishes Baekhyun had left him at the orphanage. It had been cold there and uncomfortable, and there had been nights when he and the other children had to go without food, but at least he’d had company. They’d almost been a family; he, the other orphans, and the few caretakers. But then Baekhyun had arrived, looking for a boy to replace his last teleporter, who had fallen ill over the winter and died. Jongin had been happy to be chosen at the time, thinking the troupe could become a real family to him. He’d been seven at the time, and very naive.

Now, at twelve, Jongin wished he could go back in time and hide the day Baekhyun came to the orphanage. Maybe then he would have been adopted later on. Adopted by a real family.

He’s on his way to fetch Baekhyun at the request of one of the older performers. Jongin would rather avoid interaction with him if he could, but when one of the adults gave him an order, they expected him to obey. If he did not, the consequences were quite unpleasant.

When he reaches Baekhyun’s tent, however, he is surprised to hear voices from within. Both are male, but one is unfamiliar. Baekhyun never gets any guests, not unless it is a proprietor, demanding compensation for the site in which they have set up for a performance. Jongin is sure Baekhyun has already paid for the set up of their latest show, so who is this man?

“You’re interested in Kai?” Baekhyun asks.

Jongin starts at this, surprised to hear his stage name.

“Yes.” The unfamiliar voice says. “My son and I attended one of your shows last week, and he was very taken with the boy.”

“Kai is rather amazing.” Baekhyun purrs. “An asset to our show. I don’t know what I’d do without him.”

Jongin gags. He doesn’t know what Baekhyun is up to, but it must be bad for him to lie to such an extent.

“I understand.” The other man says. “But I would very much appreciate it if you would consider my offer.”

“I don’t know how I can.” Baekhyun says. “Jongin is part of our family. He’s like a little brother to me.”

“Please know that if you agree, I’ll take care of him. He’d want for nothing. And of course you would be compensated, even if no amount would be enough for such a loss.”

“No, nothing would be enough.” Baekhyun sighs theatrically. “But I can hardly be the one to stop him from having a better future, however much saying goodbye to him will hurt.”

Jongin can’t help a snort when he hears this.

Conversation within the tent dies. Seconds later Baekhyun is yanking back the tent flap to glower down at Jongin. “Speak of the devil.”

Baekhyun masks his face into a beam before stepping back to admit Jongin. “Please, come in Kai. We were just talking about you.”

Hesitantly, Jongin enters the tent. Standing just beside Baekhyun’s desk is a man in an expensive suit. Seeing Jongin, he offers a kind smile.

“Why don’t you take Kai back with you tonight?” Baekhyun suggests to the man, gesturing to the fat purse lying atop his desk. “You can send the rest tomorrow.”

“Thank you very much.” The man says as he heads to the tent exit. “I’ll give you two time to say goodbye. Take as long as you need.”

Baekhyun keeps smiling until the man is gone, then he drags Jongin close to him and hisses in his ear. “That man just bought you, understand? Like I did from that rundown dump of an orphanage. Be a good little brat to him until we’re out of town, then he’s free to find out the mistake he made. Don’t you dare mess this up for me.”

Jongin pulls away from Baekhyun with a glare. Baekhyun ignores him, already crossing to his desk, where he opens the purse and peeks inside. His lips curl into a greedy grin as he pokes through the coins.

“You can keep those clothes you’re wearing, even though I paid for them.” Baekhyun doesn’t look away from the purse as he speaks. “Don’t take anything else with you. I’ll consider it minor compensation for all the money I’ve wasted on keeping you healthy these years. If that gentleman asks you if you have any belongings to bring, tell him nothing worth keeping. Now, get out.”

Jongin doesn’t need telling twice. He exits the tent immediately, while Baekhyun continues to count his money.

Outside, Jongin spots the man in the suit right away. Spotting Jongin as well, the man offers the same, kind smile as before.

“Hello.” The man says. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced.”

Jongin doesn’t say anything.

“My name’s Junmyeon.” The man finally says. “And you’re Kai, correct?”

“Yeah.” Jongin doesn’t see the point in telling this man his real name.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Junmyeon says, and to Jongin’s surprise he offers his hand. Jongin has never been around such company that they would shake hands in greeting. All he can do is stare at Junmyeon.

The older man withdraws his hand and clears his throat awkwardly. “Well, we can speak more on the ride back home. For now let’s go retrieve your belongings.”

“Don’t got any.” Jongin mumbles.

“You don’t? Come now, you must have something you wish to bring with you.”

Jongin echoes Baekhyun’s words. “Nothin’ worth keepin’.”

Junmyeon frowns slightly, but doesn’t press the matter. “Very well. I suppose we best be on our way.”

Junmyeon’s car is waiting just outside the grounds on which the troupe is camping. Junmyeon opens the door for Jongin. Once they are both in and seated, Junmyeon tells the driver to start going.

Jongin doesn’t once look back as they drive away from the Carnival.

“I saw your performance the other day.” Junmyeon says, after a stretch of silence. “You were very good. Tell me, how exactly did you pull off that teleportation stunt?”

Jongin keeps his lips sealed as he stares at his lap, at the patch over his right knee specifically. He’s constantly wearing down the knees of his pants with all the crawling he has to do. Even though it’s for his act, Baekhyun still complains whenever they have to waste time mending his clothes. Jongin has learned to sew himself, so as not to cause as much trouble for the others, but he still has to ask for needle and thread when the material of his pants tears. He still manages to get in the way.

But not anymore. Maybe this man will buy him some new, better clothes. Clothes that won’t get worn and rip as easily. Maybe he won’t have to worry about wearing them down.

Jongin still hasn’t answered. Junmyeon forces a laugh as he says, “I suppose a magician can’t share his secrets!”

Jongin isn’t a magician. He was the show’s teleporter. There were a couple of official magicians, but they’d never been very nice to him. Still, nicer than Baekhyun.

“My son really enjoyed your performance.” Junmyeon adds, then giving Jongin a considering look. “How old are you, Kai? If you don’t mind me asking?”

Jongin isn’t used to people asking to ask questions. He doesn’t see the point in it, though he can’t help feeling a bit pleased he’s been given the choice to answer or not.

“Twelve.” Jongin says, because he can’t think up a good reason not to answer, or to lie.

Junmyeon is delighted. “That’s the same age as my son! I’m sure you two will get along very well!”

Jongin shrugs, even though his interest has been slightly piqued. He can’t remember the last time he met someone his own age.

“I know this all must seem very strange to you, Kai.” Junmyeon says. “But I promise you’ll have a very good life under my roof. I’ll do what I can to make you happy.”

“Why?” Jongin asks. “Why are you doin’ this for me? D’ya want me to perform for you?”

Junmyeon shakes his head. “Nothing like that.”

“Then what? You want me to do some kinda work?”

“In a way. The truth is, Kai, I’d like you to become my son’s companion.”

Jongin wrinkles his nose. “What d’ya mean by that?”

“Quite simply, I mean I want you to be his playmate. You see, my son has been very ill ever since he was born. He was premature, and my wife died giving birth to him. He’s too weak to leave the house most days, and has no friends of his own. I worry for him, when I’m away on work. I worry that he’s become too isolated. I’d like you to change that, if possible.”

“How can I do somethin’ like that?” Jongin asks, confused by this story of a lonely, sick boy.

“By being his friend.” Junmyeon says. “Do you think you can do that, Kai?”

A friend? Jongin can’t remember the last time he had a friend. Maybe some of the other orphans, but they were constantly competing with each other to get adopted. Rivalry always soiled those friendships. So had Jongin ever really had a friend? He didn’t think so.

If Jongin had really never had a friend he didn’t know if he could be one. But he wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to live under a rich man’s roof for a while. Jongin planned to take full advantage until, as Baekhyun had said, Junmyeon realized what a mistake he’d made.

“Sure.” Jongin says to Junmyeon now. “I can be your son’s friend, for a bit.”



As soon as they arrive at the estate Jongin realizes Junmyeon is even richer than he thought. The grounds seem to expand forever in every direction, providing enough room to set up dozens of Carnivals. The mansion at the centre of the estate is huge, with giant double doors for an entrance. As they pass through these doors Jongin feels as if he is entering a palace.

The main hall is even bigger than he expected, but he doesn’t have time to gawk at the chandelier dangling from the ceiling or the paintings lining the walls. Junmyeon is hurrying him along, towards the stairs.

“You’ll have plenty of time to look around later.” Junmyeon says. “For now, I’m eager for you to meet my son.”

They reach the second floor and Junmyeon ushers Jongin down a series of halls, until they reach a closed door beside which is seated a maid on a stool.

“Is he asleep?” Junmyeon asks the maid, who shakes her head. Looking positively giddy, Junmyeon knocks on the door and calls out, “It’s me! May I come in? I have a surprise for you!” When there is no immediate reply, Junmyeon exclaims, “I’m coming in!”

Throwing back the door, Junmyeon rushes into the room, hauling Jongin behind him. The room is very large, done up in white and blue shades that give it a very sterile feeling. Even the crowded, repugnant tents the troupe sleep in together have more personality than this room.

Propped up in the double bed in the corner of the room is a young boy. This has to be Junmyeon’s son, but he is so small and so ghastly pale Jongin cannot believe the two of them are the same age.

The boy holds a book open in his lap. He stares at it a moment after Junmyeon has entered before looking up. His gaze roves from his father to Jongin and back, disinterest plain on his face.
Junmyeon, however, is still excited. 

“This is Kai! Remember that boy from the show last week, who could teleport? He’s going to be staying with us from now on!” Junmyeon turns to Jongin with a smile, “Kai, this is my son, Sehun.”

Sehun looks at Jongin again, then returns his attention to his book.

For a moment, Junmyeon seems disheartened. Then he smiles again and says. “I’ll leave you two to get better acquainted! You don’t want a stuffy old man like me getting in your way!”

Jongin doesn’t think Junmyeon is old at all, but Sehun does not correct his father. He just keeps reading his book, even as Junmyeon starts to leave. Just before he closes the door behind him, Junmyeon Jongin casts one last smile.

Once Junmyeon is gone, silence descends on the room. Jongin isn’t sure if he should say anything, but even if he should he doesn’t know what to say. Instead he twists the hem of his shirt in his hands, waiting for Sehun to speak. The pale boy does not.

Jongin watches Sehun from under his lashes. He’s really very small, from what Jongin can see. His arms are like sticks, and his shoulders are narrow even for a child. He really does look sickly. Jongin is suddenly worried he’ll catch whatever disease Sehun had and – judging by his appearance – likely still has.

“Teleportation.” Sehun says, without looking from his book. His voice is soft and brittle, as if it gets little use. “I couldn’t figure it out for the longest time. At first I thought it was some sort of optical illusion, but that would be far too advanced for such a mundane troupe. Then I thought, perhaps the stage was fixed, and it was a set of twins pretending to teleport. One would hide in a compartment below the stage and pop out after the other had climbed down. Since you used smoke when you both disappeared and reappeared, I thought that would be likely. A good way to hide an exit and entrance. But then Father asked after you and we learned you were not a twin. For a while after that, I was puzzled. If it were trapdoors, you would not have enough time to open and close the doors and climb underneath the stage before reappearing, unless you were inhumanely fast, which could have been an act itself. Yesterday, it finally occurred to me. The stage was fixed, and there were trapdoors, of a sort. They just didn’t have doors you’d have to open and close. They were simply holes you’d have to jump down and then crawl under the stage to pop up another. There was someone below the stage with you, I bet, releasing the smoke where and when it was needed. The reason the audience couldn’t see the holes was because of the lighting, and because the inside of the stage was black, like the outside. Clever, really, although it seems the act was much more effort to execute than it was worth.”

Jongin doesn’t say anything, clutching tightly at the hem of his shirt. For this little boy to have figured out his trick – which he had worked so hard to perfect, so no one would be able to guess – and then go ahead and call it a wasted effort was too much for Jongin.

“No need to tell me I’m right.” Sehun adds. “I know I am. If not before, I certainly know now.”

Sehun doesn’t elaborate. Jongin grits his teeth. He doesn’t want to give Sehun the satisfaction by asking what he means, but Jongin is too curious not to ask.

“Why?”

Holding his book with one hand, Sehun uses the other to gesture vaguely at Jongin, “Your clothes. Your pants especially, with those patches. You must have had to practise crawling beneath the stage quite a bit to ensure your timing would be perfect during your performances.”

Again, Jongin finds himself holding back his anger. Sehun has dismantled Jongin’s trick so passively with his logic, the trick at which Jongin worked so hard, hoping to earn his place among the troupe.

“No doubt father brought you here because he thought I found you interesting.” Sehun says now, still fixed on his book. “The truth is I found the mechanics of your act interesting, and once I’d figured them out they weren’t very interesting at all. You’ve been brought here under false pretences. You might as well leave.”

Jongin decides to do just that. He doesn’t know if he will go back to the Carnival or run away, but in that moment he decides he absolutely will not stay with Sehun any longer. He leaves without a word, startling the maid still sitting guard outside Sehun’s room when he slams the door. Without a word to the maid, who calls after him, Jongin marches down the hall. He will find his way out of the mansion and off the estate and Sehun won’t have to worry about his boring trick anymore.

He is intercepted by a very worried Junmyeon just before he reaches the stairs.

“Kai! Where are you going? Is something wrong?”

“I’m leavin’.” Jongin says, “Like your son told me to.”

Junmyeon frowns in puzzlement, then shakes it off and says. “Let me have a word with Sehun. He doesn’t know how to speak to people properly. I’m sorry if he’s insulted you.”

Sehun has insulted Jongin, over and over again in his dismissal of Jongin’s act. Nothing is going to change that and, Jongin thinks, nothing is going to change Sehun’s attitude. He seems like every other spoiled, upper-class brat that came to the Carnival to laugh at the peasants. Sehun is just paler.

“At least stay for supper.” Junmyeon says, sounding almost desperate. “I’ve had the cook prepare a feast in celebration of your arrival. It would be a shame to have it go to waste.”

Jongin has not eaten for hours, and that was a measly half bowl of gruel for breakfast. Maybe taking advantage of this alleged feast wouldn’t be such a bad idea, although he still plans to leave as soon as he’s finished.

“Okay.” Jongin says, and Junmyeon’s shoulders sag in relief.

“Supper will be ready in about an hour.” Junmyeon says, “Why don’t I show you to your room? You can wash up and change, if you like. I had one of the servants move some of Sehun’s old clothes into your closet until I get the chance to buy some new things for you, with your proper sizes. They should fit, for now.”

Jongin isn’t sure he likes the idea of wearing what Sehun used to wear, but he keeps quiet as Junmyeon leads him back down the hall. His room, Jongin discovers, is not far from Sehun’s room.

Junmyeon apologizes on behalf of his son yet again before leaving Jongin, with promises of sending a servant to fetch him when supper is ready. Alone in the bedroom now, Jongin is awestruck as he looks at the lush carpet and stocked fireplace and canopy bed with rich red sheets. This is his, and he cannot believe it.

No, this will be his, if he chooses to stay, which he will not. Despite all the luxuries, Jongin still has his pride, something he has clung onto throughout the years, and he will not relinquish that to a bratty rich boy.

Still, Jongin feels himself wavering when he enters the bathroom and sees a hot bath has been prepared for him. Jongin has never had something prepared for him before. Every time he had to wash while he was with the troupe he had to do so with buckets of water he’d fetched himself. The water was always like ice. He’d caught more than one cold that way.

The bath he eases into is the complete opposite of that chilly water. Tendrils of steam waft around him, moistening the bathroom tiles. Jongin can’t help smiling as he sinks up to his chin in the steaming water.

Once he has finished, Jongin wraps himself in one of the huge, soft, crimson towels that have been left for him to use. In his room, the carpet feels soft under his feet as he pads to the huge oak dresser. Inside are several uniforms for him to choose from, all consisting of a dress shirt and pants in varying shades and designs. Jongin picks the largest looking one and begins to dress.

Jongin has never worn clothes like these before, both in design and rich make. It takes him a little while to straighten his shirt correctly, and he’s surprised to find it is slightly big on him. Can scrawny, pale Sehun really be broader than him?

Then again, even if Sehun is thin thanks to his illness, Jongin is thin thanks to his upbringing. He has not had a week of consistent meals in his life, even when he was with the troupe.

When he has finished changing, Jongin falls back on his bed and melts right into the mattress. It is the most comfortable thing in the world.

Jongin doesn’t realize he has fallen asleep until a knocking at his door wakes him. He scrambles from his bed to answer it, revealing a servant who has come to bring him downstairs for dinner. As they walk, Jongin straightens the shirt he has managed to rumple while sleeping. His efforts are in vain and ugly creases remain in the material.

In the dinging room Junmyeon is seated at the end of the massive dining table. Sehun sits all the way at the other end.

“Please, take a seat, Kai.” Junmyeon says. “Why not next to Sehun?”

Jongin pauses, where he had been about to sit at the middle of the table, away from both parties. He spares a glance down at Sehun, who’s full attention is on the windows and grassy field they show beyond.

When Jongin looks at Junmyeon, the older man offers an encouraging smile and motions for him to go to the other end of the table. After a hesitant moment, Jongin does, sitting to Sehun’s right.

As Junmyeon calls for the cook to bring in their food, Jongin glances at Sehun again. He’s surprised to find Sehun is no longer looking at the windows and scenery, but him.

“Your shirt.” Sehun says to him. “It’s wrinkled.”

Jongin balls his hands into fists under the table as Sehun turns his attention back to the windows.

The footmen begin bringing in food at that point, and Jongin feels his anger with Sehun seep away as the most delicious smells he has ever inhaled surround him. His mouth waters and he hears his own stomach growl.

Sehun looks at him and mouths, “Disgusting.”

Jongin blushes fiercely, glaring away from Sehun while he privately orders his stomach to keep silent. Seconds later, Jongin finds the plate in front of him full with delicacies of which he’s only ever dreamed.

“Save some room!” Junmyeon calls at one point, sounding happy as he watches Jongin devour his meal, “This is only the first course!”

Despite bratty Sehun and his condescending looks sitting right next to him, Jongin thinks he could die and go to heaven.



By the time they have reached dessert, which consists of more chocolate than Jongin has ever eaten in his life, he has noticed a recurring theme. Sehun seems to only pick at each dish put in front of him, then push what is left around his plate, staring out the window in boredom. Not once does Sehun finish his plate; he doesn’t even eat half of what is put in front of him. The only time Sehun eats everything is when they have dessert.

At this point, Jongin is far too full to finish the huge piece of cake in front of him, but he eats it anyway. He knows he will likely be sick later, but it tastes so good, and he doesn’t know when he’ll ever get to eat something like this again.

“Sehun,” Junmyeon says, once they have all finished eating, “Why don’t you take Jongin up to your room for a game of chess until bedtime?”

“He won’t know how to play, father.” Sehun says, then slanting his eyes to Jongin, “You don’t, do you?”

Again, Jongin reddens. Of course he doesn’t know how to play chess. That sort of game is for people who can afford to waste time on idle activities, and Jongin has never been that sort of person. Still, he resents how bluntly Sehun treats the matter.

“In that case, why don’t you teach him?” Junmyeon suggest brightly. “I’ll have some tea sent up for the two of you.”

“Very well, father.” Sehun says, wiping his mouth with his napkin before rising from his seat. Under his breath, he says to Jongin, “Hurry up.”

After they have taken their leave from Junmyeon, Jongin follows Sehun upstairs. Before they reach his room, where the maid is still situated, Sehun hisses to him. “You will come in for fifteen minutes and no more. After that amount of time has passed you will leave and tell the maid outside my room you find the game too difficult and are tired and will be going to bed early. Understood?”

The way Sehun is speaking, how he is giving him these orders, reminds Jongin of Baekhyun and the other adults among the troupe.

“Whatever.” Jongin scoffs, earning a scowl from Sehun. He’ll do as the boy asks, but not because he was told to do so. He doesn’t want to spend anymore time with Sehun than Sehun does with him.

When they reach Sehun’s room, Sehun gestures to the chess table, set up right next to one of the windows, of which the drapes have by now been closed. “Sit there.”

Jongin does, and waits for Sehun to take the spot across from him. Instead, Sehun returns to his bed, which has been made. Sitting atop the covers, Sehun pulls his book from his night stand and starts reading again.

“What’re you doin’?” Jongin asks.

Sehun frowns at him over the top of his book. “It’s called reading. Should father keep you around long enough, he may hire someone to teach you the skill, waste that it would be.”

Jongin glares at Sehun but already the boy is ignoring him. “Aren’t we s’posed to play this game?”

Sehun waves a hand at him dismissively. “If father comes to check on us I’ll just tell him I was looking for a good passage of my book I wanted to read to you. You’ll agree, of course.”

“‘Course.” Jongin growls.

“That reminds me, though.” Sehun momentarily lays down his book to gesture to the chess table. “Move the pieces around a bit, so it will look to anyone who comes in as if we’ve actually been playing.”

After this, Sehun returns to his book, so Jongin turns his attention to the chess table. Tentatively, he picks up one of the white pieces, which are closest to him. It’s heavy, smooth and cold. It’s the tiniest piece, one of many. It’s like Jongin, in a way. It’s small and one of many, just like him. He’s one of many small orphans the world has forgotten about. Except maybe it hasn’t forgotten about him entirely, since it brought him to this place. Even if Sehun’s here too.

“What’s this piece do?” Jongin asks. Sehun ignores him, so he asks louder, “What’s it do?”

“You don’t need to learn how to play, even if father suggested it.” Sehun turns a page of his book. “It wouldn’t do you any good.”

“I don’t care ‘bout playin’.” Jongin says, waving the piece at Sehun, “What’s it do?”

“Can you please stop speaking to me? You don’t know how to talk properly, and besides that you have an irritating voice.”

Jongin gets up and walks over to Sehun. He holds the piece in front of Sehun’s page. The pale boy glares up at him.

“What’s it do?” Jongin asks, slurring his words as much as possible.

“It’s called a pawn.” Sehun snaps, snatching the piece from Jongin. He flicks it to the floor. “It’s for sacrificing.”

Jongin stares down at the pawn. Somehow, it makes sense that the piece he compared himself with would be the one that gets sacrificed.

“Well?” Sehun asks, “Aren’t you going to pick it up?”

Jongin shakes his head and goes back to the table.

“If father comes in he’ll ask why there’s a pawn on the floor.” Sehun snaps.

“Then you can tell ‘im.”

Sehun fumes quietly for a moment, then slams his book shut and tosses it on his bed. Getting up, he snatches the pawn from the floor and walks over to the chess table, where Jongin has started moving around pieces at random.

“You can’t do that.” Sehun says, knocking the piece Jongin has just placed with the pawn he’s holding.

“Why not?”

“It’s the king, you idiot. In that position it’s not only in check, but checkmate. The game would be over.”

Jongin blinks at the black king for a moment, then grins at Sehun, “So I won.”

“Of course not!”

“But I’m these white pieces, aren’t I?” Jongin says, gesturing to his side of the board, “Wouldn’t that make you the other team?”

“Yes, but we’re not actually playing. You didn’t really win.”

“Then I fake won.” Jongin surmises.

“No, you didn’t win at all.”

Jongin leans back in his chair, smiling at the board, “Looks like I won.”

Sehun makes an irritated sound. “No, you’re completely wrong. The way you have this board set up doesn’t make any sense anyway.”

“Why not?”

“Because... because...” Sehun slams the pawn down, “Never mind! Just put the pieces back where they were and I’ll show you how to play – just so you know you’d never win!”

“Sure.” Jongin says, pleased with having upset Sehun so much. As he starts putting the pieces back, Sehun flops into the chair across from him with a huff. This pleases Jongin even more.



It is eleven by the time Junmyeon sends a servant to bring Jongin back to his room. As Sehun predicted, Junmyeon himself came to check on the boys earlier in the evening but, upon seeing how caught up in their game they were, he promptly left.

They are on their fourth game now. Sehun had won the first two quickly, for it had taken Jongin that long to adjust to the rules of the game. Sehun had also easily won the third, but their fourth game is taking considerably longer. Even though Sehun still has the advantage, Jongin is finally getting the hang of it.

“In a moment.” Sehun snaps at the servant who has come to fetch Jongin. “I’ve nearly beaten him.”

“Young master, your father was very clear – ”

“Oh, very well!” Sehun huffs, shoving back his chair. To Jongin, he says, “We’ll continue this tomorrow. It shouldn’t take long. You’re five moves away from your downfall.”

“If you’re sure.” Jongin says airily. Sehun shoots him a look.

As Jongin leaves he hears Sehun direct the servant to remove their collection of mugs by the chess board, which accumulated throughout the evening as the game wore on. Apparently, Sehun has a penchant for tea.

“G’night.” Jongin calls over his shoulder as an afterthought. Sehun, who was still talking to the servant, seems surprised and only stares at him dumbly. This doesn’t bother Jongin, who’s pleased to have surprised Sehun a bit.

On his way back to his room, Jongin decides it’s okay if he stays one more day, just so he can show Sehun he isn’t as much of a chess master as he fancies himself. Also, since supper was so delicious, Jongin is eager to see what they eat for breakfast.



Jongin moves his knight, eliciting a scoff from Sehun.

“What?” he demands.

Sehun shrugs, “You’re just such a beginner.”

“Then where should I put it?” Jongin asks as he starts to pick up his knight again, but Sehun swats his hand away.

“How many times must I tell you? Once you’ve put down a piece you can’t move it!”

“Then why didn’t you tell me I was makin’ a bad move before?”

“Because we’re having a real game. I’m not going to baby you.” Sehun moves his bishop. “Check.”

“How?!”

“Really. We’ve been playing for two weeks. Even you should understand it by now.” Sehun points to his bishop and the path it could take. “I can get your king this way, and you can’t move it since it’s blocked in. You have to sacrifice your pawn.”

“No.” Jongin says stubbornly.

“It’s the only move you have, unless you’d rather lose your knight.”

Jongin moves his knight.

Sehun takes the knight with a long sigh. “You’re terrible at this game. And I’m still going to take your pawn on my next turn, and there won’t be any way you can save it.”

Jongin glowers at the chess board, looking for any possible way to save his pawn. There are none. The next few turns progress in silence, until Sehun gets checkmate.

“You held up a bit longer than usual.” Sehun says, sitting back in his chair. “Let’s have another game. I’ve still an hour before the tutor comes.”

Jongin starts putting the board back to normal. Sehun told him on their second day of playing together it’s custom for the loser to reset the board. Jongin doesn’t know if that’s true or not, but he does it anyway. Every time.

He has yet to win a match against Sehun.

“I’ve been meanin’ to ask.” Jongin says as he lines up the black pieces in front of Sehun. “Why’s there always a maid outside your door?”

“Is it so strange?” Sehun asks tersely, “If I want something, I should have a servant ready to retrieve it for me.”

“Couldn’t you just use a bell?”

“I’d be waiting at least five minutes, then.”

“Seems better than sittin’ outside a room for five hours.” Jongin mutters under his breath.

Sehun glares at him. “The maids alternate. They only sit there for around three hours at a time.”

“You sure?” Jongin asks. “I saw the same girl out there all day yesterday.”

“You’re exaggerating.” Sehun says, but he doesn’t sound certain.

“Is there another reason they’re out there?” Jongin asks, because he gets the feeling there’s something Sehun isn’t telling him.

Sehun scowls. “Nothing important. It’s just father being paranoid. He wants someone nearby if I fall ill, as if it would happen so suddenly. Really, father can be so ridiculous.”

Although Jongin thinks it’s ridiculous for the maids to have to spend so much time just sitting outside Sehun’s room, he isn’t surprised that Junmyeon goes so far. It seems to Jongin like Sehun is Junmyeon’s whole world. Jongin likes to think his own parents would have been that worried about him, that paranoid when it came to his health and well-being. But thinking about that always leads to thoughts of what happened to his parents, whether they actually died or if they just abandoned him at the orphanage. Jongin doesn’t like to think about that.

They haven’t completed the next game before Sehun’s tutor arrives. Jongin has to leave so Sehun isn’t distracted by his lessons, which he has every afternoon. Jongin will see Sehun later at supper, and afterwards they’ll come back to Sehun’s room to continue their chess game. For the past two weeks, it has been their schedule.

While Sehun has his lessons Jongin takes the time to explore the grounds and mansion. Junmyeon says he can go wherever he likes, just to let one of the servants know if he’s playing outside, and to be in before dark and in time for supper.

Jongin goes outside now. He likes the gardens and the field, which are still mostly green, despite autumn’s approach. Jongin wears the new coat, hat, scarf, and boots Junmyeon has bought for him. It’s not yet so cold as to need the scarf and hat, and a thick sweater would likely do just as well as the coat, but Jongin likes wearing them. He likes knowing these articles of clothing were bought especially for him.

There are some very good climbing trees deep within the garden behind the mansion. Several of the servants have warned him off climbing them, as despite their solid build they are old, but Jongin is nimble and is sure he will be fine.

Jongin has not yet attempted to climb the trees, but he decides he will today. He’s finally grown bored of exploring the garden on his own. He wishes Sehun didn’t have lessons and could join him outside. Even if the pale boy is a brat, Jongin finds he minds his company less and less every day.

Pulling himself up to one of the higher branches, Jongin swings around to sit near the trunk, where the branch is thicker. Facing the mansion, he can see into a few second story windows. Most are empty bedrooms or sitting rooms, but the one farthest to his right is Sehun’s room.

Bracing himself against the trunk with one arm, Jongin waves frantically with the other. Sehun’s desk is adjacent to the window, so he might be able to spot Jongin out of the corner of his eye if he looks. But Sehun is too busy listening to his tutor, who is pointing something out in a textbook.

Jongin gives his arm a break, but only briefly. After a minute he’s bored of just watching and takes off his hat, using that as a flag to wave at Sehun.

Finally, the pale boy seems to notice. Sehun glances out his window then does a double take. His mouth forms a quick ‘o’ then thins out in its typical impassive line. His brows furrow at Jongin, who smiles broadly as he vigorously waves. Sehun continues to watch him, while his unaware tutor is still reading from the textbook.

That is when the sun peeks out from behind the clouds overhead, casting a light on the windows of the mansion, obscuring Sehun. Jongin lowers his arm, disappointed. After a moment he decides to move out farther on the branch. Maybe he’ll be able to see Sehun from that angle.

Jongin has moved out about halfway when he decides to stop, since the branch has started to dip a little. Still, he can’t see Sehun. If he moves out just a bit more, he probably could.

The branch dips considerably as Jongin scoots out, and he immediately decides to go back and wait for the clouds to hide the sun again. Before he can move back along the branch, however, there is a crack. The next thing Jongin knows he and the branch are falling.

Jongin gets scraped by other branches on his way down. He hits the ground hard and pain shoots through his body, causing him to cry out.

Jongin immediately tries to get up. He has to bite back tears when he attempts to move his right arm. Rolling on his back, Jongin stares up at the sky, his breath coming in little gasps as he adjusts to the pain. Overhead, a cloud drifts across the sun. He only need have waited a minute longer, and he would have been able to see Sehun.

Jongin squeezes his eyes shut against the pain. It’s getting harder not to cry.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed when he hears people shouting and someone running towards him. One of the footmen gently picks him up, and Jongin whimpers when he moves his arm. He’s carried back inside, through the kitchen door. Other servants are waiting and they flock around him the moment he is brought inside. The cook shoos them off and instructs the footman to carry Jongin to his room, while someone else will have a message sent to Junmyeon’s office.

The footman leaves after helping Jongin get as comfortable as possible on his bed. Then Jongin is alone with the pain again. Luckily, it is duller than before.

Jongin has been staring at the roof of his canopy bed for a while when someone opens his door. He expects it to be one of the servants or even Junmyeon, but it isn’t. It’s Sehun.

“That was stupid.” Is the first thing Sehun says.

Jongin turns his face away from Sehun, suddenly both angry and embarrassed. Of course Sehun would have seen the whole thing from his window, and of course it would make him think Jongin was even more of an idiot than he already thought.

“Don’t you have lessons?” Jongin mumbles.

“Yeah, I’ll go back in a sec.” Sehun says. “I just wanted to come and tell you how stupid you are. Of course the branch would break if you went out as far as you did.”

“I know.”

“Oh, you do? Then why did you go out that far? Do you enjoy being stupid?”

“Go away!” Jongin snaps. He’s never really snapped at Sehun before.

There is a pause, then Jongin hears his bedroom door close. Sehun has left.

Later, a very flustered and concerned Junmyeon arrives with a doctor from town. The doctor examines Jongin and announces he has broken his arm. Jongin is unsurprised, but still horrified at this diagnosis. If possible, Junmyeon seems even more horrified than Jongin.

The doctor does what he can to ease Jongin’s pain, then has a word with Junmyeon about what to do to help Jongin recover until his next visit. Junmyeon agrees to do everything the doctor says and thanks him profusely.

After the doctor has left, Junmyeon walks over and sits on the corner of Jongin’s bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Better.” Jongin says, casting a glance at the cast now around his arm. “Still hurts a bit.”

Junmyeon smiles his kind smile. “You’re very brave.”

“Not really.” Jongin mutters. “I’m stupid.”

Junmyeon’s eyes widen. “You are not! Who would say such a thing?”

Jongin looks away, pretending further interest in his cast.

“It was Sehun, wasn’t it?” Junmyeon sighs. “Listen, Kai. I know Sehun can be a bit... inconsiderate at times, but in this case, I’m sure he said that to you because he was worried. You know, as soon as he saw you fall he sent his maid to get help.”

“Really?” Jongin asks, surprised. He’d thought the servants in the kitchen had seen him fall and gone to help him. He hadn’t known Sehun had anything to do with it.

“Yes. His tutor told me he was in a panic – and Sehun never panics about anything. He told me Sehun wanted to go out and help you himself, and then after you’d been brought in, he refused to continue his lessons until he saw you.”

Jongin in a breath. Was that really true?

“Sehun doesn’t know how to properly express it, but he was very worried about you.” Junmyeon reaches forward and brushes back Jongin’s bangs. “I was worried too. You’re a part of our family now, Kai. Neither of us want anything to happen to you.”

Jongin feels a stinging at the corner of his eyes like when he’s about to cry. He felt it earlier too, when he broke his arm. Now, however, the stinging had nothing to do with pain.



Jongin stays in bed for the rest of the evening. Supper is brought to him on a tray, and he finds the days events have left him even hungrier than usual. He devours everything.

About a half hour after the tray has been cleared someone knocks on Jongin’s bedroom door. Thinking it’s one of the servants, Jongin calls, “Come in.”

It’s not a servant, but Sehun again. Under his arm he’s carrying a thin, square board, and in his right hand is a box. Sehun shuts the door behind him before walking up to Jongin’s bed and placing the box and board on the covers. Jongin can now see the board has the markings of a chess table, and in the box are chess pieces.

“I got it from downstairs, in the library, since I couldn’t bring the actual table.” Sehun explains. “I don’t see why you couldn’t come to my room like usual, of course, but father says you must stay in bed and rest. Doctor’s orders or something else equally menial.”

Sehun climbs onto Jongin’s bed. He sits cross legged in front of Jongin, directing him to sit the same way, then he lays the board in-between them.

“Now don’t move around a lot.” Sehun instructs as he starts setting up the pieces. “Otherwise there’ll be a big mess and – whether you’re hurt or not – I’m not cleaning it up.”

Jongin can’t help it when his lips curve into a small smile. “Deal.”



It’s Jongin’s first winter at the mansion, and subsequently the first winter when he doesn’t have to worry about freezing off his fingers or toes. For once the snowy landscape holds no menace and can be purely enjoyed.

Even when he was with the troupe, Jongin used to like playing in the snow. He didn’t have the proper clothing, however, to stay out for long, and Baekhyun or the other adults would always shout at him for slacking off and causing problems. If he fell ill due to the cold, they’d say, they weren’t wasting money on medicine for him.

Jongin didn’t have to worry about that now. He has warm clothes to bundle up in and an even warmer house to return to. Even if he does catch a cold or something of the sort, he knows Junmyeon will go to any means to make him better, as he did with his arm. His arm is almost fully healed now, although he does not yet have the same strength or flexibility in it as before. The doctor has told him not to move it too much until it is completely better.

Not using his right arm will make having a snowball fight very difficult, Jongin thinks. What is making it even more difficult, however, is the fact that Sehun is refusing to go outside.

“I get sick easily.” Sehun says. “You know that, so just go play in the snow on your own. I have to study.”

Today is Sehun’s break from lessons, so Jongin knows he does not have to study. It is just his excuse to get out of a snowball fight.

“You just don’t wanna ‘cause you know I’ll win.”

“That isn’t true!” Sehun snaps. “My health isn’t good enough to go outside in weather like this. Just ask father.”

“But you never go outside. Even if your health’s bad, you’ve been cooped up in here so long that’s probably making your health worse. Fresh air is good.”

“Fresh air, maybe, but not frostbite-inducing frozen air.”

“Coward.”

“I am not!”

“If you say so.” Jongin wraps his scarf around his neck as he leaves Sehun’s room. The other boy just glares at him.

After he’s put on his coat and boots, Jongin goes behind the mansion, where he was making snowmen the day before. One of the servants found him an old hat and coat for one of his snowmen. Both have fallen off, carried a short distance in the wind overnight. Jongin puts them back in place and fixes all the snowmen’s stick arms, which have been blown at odd angles.

When he is finished attending to the snowmen, Jongin turns back to the mansion. He locates Sehun’s window immediately, thanks to all those days in late summer and autumn when he would try to distract the other boy during his lessons. Since the incident with his arm, however, Jongin now sticks with distracting Sehun from the ground.

Jongin picks up two handfuls of snow and packs it into a tight, not nearly perfect snowball. It’s good enough, though, and Jongin hurls it at Sehun’s window. Since he has to use his left hand, the throw falls short. It takes Jongin five more tries to hit Sehun’s window. By the time Sehun is standing there, scowling down at him, Jongin has thrown another snowball. It breaks against the glass, bits of snow slipping down the window pane, right past Sehun’s unimpressed face. Jongin sticks out his tongue before making another snowball.

By the time he is ready to throw Sehun has disappeared. Several well aimed snowballs later, and Sehun’s window is covered with white. Sehun himself is still nowhere to be seen.

Disappointed that Sehun has started ignoring him so soon, Jongin goes back to his army of snowmen and decides to build another. It will be smaller than the rest, and when it’s done he’ll name it Sehun and assault it with snowballs.

Jongin has barely finished the base of his snowman when he feels something hit him between his shoulder blades. Glancing behind him, Jongin is shocked to see Sehun, bundled in at least a dozen layers and glaring at him, snow caking his mittens.

With a grin, Jongin ducks down and immediately starts making a snowball. Seeing what he is doing, Sehun scoops up some snow and runs for cover.

The snowball fight spans the whole garden and by the time they are too out of breath to continue more than one of Jongin’s snowmen have fallen. Casualties of war, he decides, accepting the destruction of his work with surprising ease.

As they come together in a truce at the centre of the garden, Jongin realizes how badly Sehun is panting. He looks even paler than usual, and despite all his layers he’s shivering.

Jongin feels a sudden rush of guilt at goading Sehun into coming outside, even if it was more fun than he’s had in ages.

“Let’s go inside.” Jongin says, and he feels even worse when Sehun is too out of breath to even reply with words, just nodding as he pants.

Inside the servants help them peel off their coats and boots, then send them up to their rooms to change. They are fussing over Sehun especially, asking over and over if he is okay and if there is anything they can do for him. To Jongin’s relief, Sehun has enough energy to brush them off, annoyed as usual.

After changing into dry clothes, Jongin is just about to go to Sehun’s room when Sehun arrives at his. Without asking, Sehun grabs a blanket from Jongin’s bed and huddles in it in front of the fireplace, which had been lit before Jongin returned inside.

“I sent my m-m-maid to get us some cocoa.” Sehun says, voice still echoing the cold as he cocoons himself in Jongin’s blanket. “I hope she hurries up.”

Jongin sits next to Sehun, wishing for a blanket of his own. The one Sehun took was just lain atop the actual covers of the bed. If Jongin takes one of the covers the bed will have to be remade before he goes to sleep, and he doesn’t want to put the servants through extra hassle.

“Give me some.” Jongin says, tugging at the blanket. “I’m cold too.”

“G-g-get your own.”

“It’s big enough for both of us.” Jongin argues, scooting closer to Sehun. “Besides, won’t it be warmer this way?”

Sehun opens his mouth to object again, but before he can come up with a good reason Jongin has joined him under the blanket. Their shoulders are pressed together, and Jongin realizes how cold Sehun is.

“Sorry.” Jongin finds himself mumbling.

“W-w-what for?”

“For making you go outside.” Jongin says.

“D-d-don’t be ridiculous.” Sehun snaps. “You didn’t m-m-make me do anything. You can’t make me do anything. It’s impossible. Besides,” Sehun adds, in a quieter voice. “It was a little bit fun.”

Jongin glances at Sehun, who refuses to look at him, instead staring into the flames. Sehun’s cheeks have turned a rosy shade. Jongin is relieved. This must mean Sehun is starting to warm up from the cold.

“Maybe we can do it again.” Jongin says. “We won’t stay out as long next time.”

“M-m-maybe.” Sehun stutters, hugging his half of the blanket to him. “I guess we could.”

Jongin smiles and bumps his shoulder against Sehun’s. For whatever reason, this makes Sehun’s face go even redder.