Sungjong had kept quiet throughout the ride home, hugging his teddy bear close.

His new parents looked very pleasant – he was sure they wouldn’t tell him not to stare out of the window of the car like his last parents used to. They were afraid that Sungjong’s breath would stain the glass – in fact, they worried that Sungjong’s every move would somehow damage some of their property.

Sungjong still wondered why they had wanted to adopt kids in the first place; they had looked perfectly happy with their house, car, and all the expensive furniture and electronics. Unless, they had mistaken kids as a sort of furniture you use to decorate your house.

When they reached home – a house with an open portico and garden in the front and back – Sungjong’s new mom helped him out of the car. He took her hand gratefully and tried to push a smile of gratitude on his face.

“Welcome to your new home, Sungjong,” his mom said in a sing-song voice.

Sungjong liked her voice; it was melodious and the smile on her round face was genuine. He immediately knew he would like her, much better the other women who had pretended to be his mother.

He wondered if his own mother looked something like this and had that sort of a smile.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, as they crossed the portico while his new dad parked the car in the garage.

He watched the car back into the garage while his mother was fumbling with the locks on the front door. Once she was successful, she tool his hand again and pulled him into the room.

“Do you like the living room?” She moved her arm in a sweeping gesture in front of him. “I changed all the curtains to yellow. That’s your favorite color right?”

Sungjong nodded.

He had never come to a house which had been prepared for him. He could see a picture of his hanging in the frame – they had probably gotten it from the orphanage – ready to accept his arrival.

He touched the curtains softly, and looked at his mom for her reaction. He was used to being chided for touching curtains with dirty hands, but it didn’t look like his new mom minded. She smiled at him encouragingly, and he moved closer to the curtain, breathing in the fragrance of new cloth and another familiar scent.

“Lemon,” he murmured.

“That was my idea.” Sungjong’s dad was inside the living room now, wearing a big smile. “You said at the interview that lemon flavored ice-cream is your favorite, right? We had the whole house sprayed with lemon-flavored air freshener.”

Sungjong blinked rapidly.

“Thank you very much,” he said and bowed politely.

He was grateful for the welcome. He really hoped that finally he would be able to find his home. He had been shifted from houses to apartments to penthouses, but there hadn’t been a single place where he could be himself. They were even less a home than the orphanage was.

But this time, Sungjong hoped he had found the right place. Last Christmas, and the one before that, and the one before that, he had asked Santa for a proper home. He realized that as long as he didn’t find home, he didn’t have an identity. Although he was too young to think about his identity, he had seen the way people look at them, the orphans. The social workers who visit them look at them pity, as if they were lost in a world where they had no business in.

Since it didn’t look like his parents would return and take him to heaven anytime soon, he had asked Santa for a home. And this time, he hoped he had gotten just that.

“We should show him his bedroom,” his dad said.

“Oh yes.” His mom clapped her hands together. “Do you want to explore your bedroom? Go on, it’s straight ahead.”

His dad nodded enthusiastically as he crept towards his bedroom. He wondered what was so special about it.

Hesitantly, he pushed the door open.

It was a large, perfectly-square room with walls painted in a cheerful shade of buttercup yellow. The color was like a breath of fresh air for him, and he inhaled deeply; the faint scent of lemon tickling his nostrils.

There was a handsome four-poster bed on one side, right by the shuttered windows. He put the teddy bear on the bed tentatively. On the other end of the room, there was a study table complete with a chair and a brand new desktop. He didn’t even know how to use a computer but he hoped his new parents would teach him.

Sungjong realised, as he ran his fingers across the spines of the new books filling the shelves, his new parents had thought about everything he would need. There were toys in a small cupboard, more toys than what all the boys in the orphanage owned combined. His eyes widened as he saw the colorful plastic figures, and he was about to touch them when he heard loud footsteps behind him.

At first he had thought it was his parents, but when he turned around, he saw a brawny kid standing in the doorway, looking him up and down inquisitively. His eyebrows were knitted together and even though Sungjong could tell he was only a few years older than him, he wore the expression of an adult.

And at this moment, he looked extremely cross and intimidating.

Sungjong was unsure about how to react. He had not been told about another kid in the house – he didn’t even know who he was.

When the older kid had finished scrutinizing him, during which Sungjong had stood very still, like a deer caught in headlight, he raised his hand and beckoned at Sungjong with his fingers. Seeing the uncertain look on Sungjong’s face, he gestured impatiently and then started walking away.

Terrified as he was, Sungjong followed him at a distance. There was no sign of his parents as they walked across the hallway until they reached another room, identical to Sungjong’s.

The boy stopped near his bed and turned around. He looked at him for some time, before pushing him roughly onto the bed. Sungjong was taken aback but he couldn’t read the expression on the boy’s face. He raised himself up on the bed on his elbows, still mystified by the boy’s actions, and stared at him.

“I am Lee Howon, but call me Hoya,” the boy said gruffly.

Sungjong was too shocked to speak, so he nodded.

“Actually, call me hyung since I’m older than you.” He puffed up his chest proudly as Sungjong nodded again. “Three years older, which means I’ll be three grades above you. We have 6 books, how many books do you have?”

Sungjong had none, so he shook his head. He had never been to school actually, but the teachers at the orphanage taught them every day.

The older kid looked disgruntled.

“I know the alphabets,” he said meekly, hoping that would earn him some points.

But Hoya didn’t look very interested in the fact.

Instead he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Sungjong,” he mumbled, bowing his head.

Hoya clicked his tongue irately. It was a very adult sound and Sungjong shivered slightly.

“Okay, firstly, look me in the eyes when you’re speaking to me.”

He had never heard such an odd instruction. Usually, at the orphanage they were taught not to look the older people in the eyes. He usually avoided eye contact with everyone when he spoke to them. But since Hoya was insisting, and he didn’t look like the sort of person who liked to be disobeyed, Sungjong looked up shyly into the boys’ eyes and repeated his name.

“Second,” Hoya said, shaking his head. “Speak loudly and clearly.”

He his lips nervously and repeated his name in a louder voice. It was actually more high-pitched than before but Hoya seemed to be satisfied, as he nodded appreciatively.

“And lastly,” Hoya crossed his arms over his chest. “Your name is Lee Sungjong from now on. Lee Sungjong, get it? Like Lee Howon.”

Sungjong felt something breaking inside of him. He fought against the tears threatening to choke his voice.

“Lee Sungjong.”

Hoya finally broke into a smile. “That’s right.” He extended a hand towards Sungjong, who gripped it uncertainly. Hoya’s hold was strong and he pulled him to his feet. “That’s right. Lee Sungjong, my younger brother.”

And in the next few years, Hoya became his first playmate, his first friend, his first confidante.

His first identity.

Possibly, his first home.