Sunhwa has always been a very precocious toddler; she could walk before she was one year old (admittedly, only a week or so before, but still), and she’d always been an intelligent baby. It’s not that their boys aren’t clever– it’s just that Sunhwa appears to be smarter than the average child.

Yixing is, of course, very proud of this. He just wishes it didn’t manifest in an interest in things that disturb him no end; she’s three, for crying out loud – but Jongdae insists on encouraging her because, in his words, she’s ‘special’. Yixing knows this is mainly because he enjoys watching him squirm.

See, the things that Sunhwa likes tend to directly mirror her eldest brother’s – and as Shang has been influenced by his mother since before he was even born, he likes bones – skulls, specifically, but that’s just because he’s beginning his goth teenager phase. At least, Yixing hopes it is. He’s got nothing against being goth – he just wishes Shang would wear a little more colour. He supposes it’s better than being on Jongseok’s end of the scale – his younger son likes to wear every colour of the rainbow, usually all at the same time.

It certainly means he can’t be missed; but then this is Jongseok – when has his middle child ever tried not to attract attention?

Sunhwa’s form of attention-seeking is evident in her personality; she’s a demanding little madam if ever he saw one, much like her adoptive mother, Kyungmi. They should never have let Kyungmi near the other two children – it probably could have saved them so much trouble.

Then again, they do have Jongdae as a father; they were screwed from the beginning.

***

Yixing really only works alternate days and the occasional afternoon; it was kind of an unspoken decision that he would go part-time, simply because it was easier for him. He supposes it’s kind of sad that he no longer gets to dance near constantly – but then looking after their kids is enough exercise in itself. He knows that when Sunhwa gets a little older, he’ll start picking up more hours again, but for now, he just tries to enjoy having the best of both worlds.

Their little girl only goes to nursery for half the day, and it tends to be in the mornings – so most days, he’s left with an afternoon to kill and a rambunctious toddler on his hands. It’s hard to find things to amuse her with – harder still to find things that don’t cost money.

But luckily, they live in London – and that means a plethora of free museums to visit, something which pleases Sunhwa no end because bàba plus shiny things equals hours of entertainment.

So today, he’s decided that they’re going to the British Museum – because they went to the Natural History Museum last week, and Sunhwa screamed when the animatronic dinosaur roared in her face; he’s not willing to deal with that little breakdown again. Or explain to Jongdae just why their daughter is a quivering mess around Jongseok’s toy dinosaur collection.

Yeah. He really didn’t think that one through.

Except, now he’s regretting this choice because she’s found a skeleton – of course – and is currently refusing to move away from it.

Her tiny hands are pressed up against the glass, leaving smudgy little handprints as tourists mill around the case. “Bàba!” She calls, doing an excited little jiggle as she squishes herself closer for a better view. “Look!”

He’s really been trying hard not to look, but no one says no to Sunhwa; she’s liable to have a screaming fit to rival one of Jongseok’s if you even dare to try. Cautiously, he looks down –

And immediately regrets it. Ew. . What the hell is wrong with his family? Why do they insist on being obsessed with dead bodies and the creepy bones and , this one has skin. He feels slightly faint.

Alright, here’s the truth – he may or may not be the teensiest bit squeamish. He can deal with projectile vomiting, blood, – bodily fluids are fine. But if you put him next to a skeleton or any kind of body part that’s just…not like it’s supposed to be, he freaks out. Jongdae finds this hilarious; Kyungmi doesn’t understand, and Joonmyun – well, Joonmyun’s too used to dealing with childbirth to even think of being squeamish.

Sunhwa tugs on his shirt to get his attention, unhappy with his silence. “Bà, look! Orange!” She sounds abnormally happy about this, and for a second, he has no idea what she’s referring to, until he gulps down his fear and stares at the shrivelled little thing again.

It’s then that he realises she’s referring to the colour of the body on display; it’s at this moment that he begins to wonder if they’ve raised a psychopath.

Three year olds shouldn’t be delighted by the colour of mummies, for ’s sake.

***

After standing very still for a second and willing himself not to feel lightheaded, he steers her gently in the direction of some harmless looking pots – pottery can’t be nefarious, right? He can almost hear Kyungmi laughing in his head.

“Baby, look,” he starts, taking hold of her hand to show her the pot nearest to them. “It’s got a zigzag pattern! It’s like one of your drawings, isn’t it – baby?” He looks down to see that his daughter is not there, and – how the hell did she manage to pull away so quickly?

He whirls around, panic already beginning to creep into his stomach; it’s been five seconds and she’s barely more than a baby – she can’t have got far. Ha. He really is stupid sometimes – why does he insist on underestimating his children’s ability to make his life difficult?

There’s a heartbeat in which he considers the possibility that he might have lost his daughter in the packed Egyptian gallery and it becomes increasingly harder to breathe, but then he spots her staring at a brightly painted coffin. She looks positively miniscule next to a group of Russian tourists, who are excitedly pointing at something in the case and don’t seem to realise they’ve been joined by a curious toddler.

He makes a beeline for her immediately, snatching her upwards before she can run away again (he’s used to that game – it’s no fun when your children always win, despite their shorter legs). “Sunhwa! What has daddy said about running away – “

“Shiny!” Sunhwa is not listening to a word he’s saying, because being up this high means she can see everything, and now she’s very sure the best place to be is in front of the shiny gold lady in the case a few paces away. “Bàba, I want the shiny!” She struggles in his arms, pushing forward with all of her might; he sighs, adjusting his grip on her waist.

When he refuses to let her down, she begins to flail her legs desperately. “Bàba, down! Put down!” He shakes his head, letting out a pained oof when her heel catches him in the chest because , who knew child-size Doc Martens could still hurt?

“Bàba will take you to it if you stop wriggling.” He shifts her onto his hip in a movement he would call smooth, if Sunhwa hadn’t managed to throw herself backwards in some kamikaze attempt at escape. It’s a pretty ridiculous posture; he has one hand on her , the other supporting her back as she tosses her head backwards.

“No.” No is Sunhwa’s favourite word; in fact, it was one of the first words she ever said, and indeed, most days, it seems as if it’s the only word she’ll actually say. “Don’t want.”

He groans. Is it too much to ask to hope for cooperation for one day?

***

It takes some bartering, but eventually, he gets her to back down. She’s a little grumpy – but that’s nothing he can’t handle. Grumpy Sunhwa is a subdued Sunhwa; and a subdued Sunhwa is a little more manageable than excitable Sunhwa.

He knows that the sad little look on her face is going to get to him within half an hour, and this will probably mean that he gives in and buys her some overpriced piece of plastic – most likely bone or mummy related – in the giftshop, but hell, it’s better than dealing with another tantrum.

Parenting 101 with Zhang Yixing: avoid as many tantrums as you can – they’ll only lead to you becoming even more of a pushover than you are already.

They’ve moved on from the Egyptians, and are now in what appears to be Celtic Britain and ancient Persia. Honestly, he hasn’t got a clue what he’s looking at – history has always been Kyungmi’s preserve, not his – but he has to at least pretend he knows what he’s talking about in front of his daughter.

He’s staring at some kind of metal contraption, trying in vain to figure out just what the it is, while Sunhwa clings to his hand and looks sulky. “Well, it’s a…thing,” he squints, leaning backwards to get a better look; Sunhwa is unimpressed. “Uh, it’s um – “ He should probably read the little description, that might actually help. “Oh. It’s for roasting meat. That’s – that’s lovely.”

Sunhwa does not seem enamoured with the strange metal thing, even when Yixing points out the animal head finials. She’s still not happy, even when he shows her the shiny metal shields – something he can actually appreciate, for once – and isn’t even amused by the funny helmet with the horns, the collection of swords or the pretty golden torcs.

He’s at a loss with how to cheer her up, until they round a corner with a little glass case set into the side of the display. It’s a dark, depressing little thing, and until you look closely you can’t tell what it is – later, he reflects that this should have been a warning, but then he’s never really been accused of being observant.

Sunhwa stands on her tippy-toes, intrigued by this dank, interesting little corner; he peers down with her, reading the label. “Lindow Man. Oh.” That’s when he looks at just what is in the case.

He’s ashamed to say that he gives a tiny shriek of terror, but really, it doesn’t even matter because it’s drowned by Sunhwa’s happy little squeal of excitement. It’s a body (obviously – only dead things seem to animate Sunhwa to this extent; dead things, Shang and unicorns – he can’t say that his little girl isn’t…unique).

But it’s not a skeleton. Oh no. That, he could possibly deal with. Instead it’s – well, he’s not sure how to describe it. Half a body that kind of looks like a sack of flesh is really all he can come up with, but there’s a random leg in there too and –

He feels kind of queasy. Stumbling backwards, he lets go of Sunhwa’s hand. She doesn’t seem to notice, too busy hoisting herself upwards so that she can lean on the edge of the case for a closer look. “Bàba, he’s got hair!” Chuckling, she peels herself away from the case to reach out for him. “Look, look!”

It takes a lot more courage than he’d like to admit to, to get himself to even glance at it again. “Yes, darling,” he murmurs faintly. “It’s…great.”

And Sunhwa, his confident, terrifying little girl, nods in agreement. “I want.” She says, pointing at the leathery little thing; Yixing swallows nervously.

Yep. There’s no denying it now. He’s produced a psychopath.

He really needs to sit down.

***

It takes a full fifteen minutes for him to come to terms with the fact that his baby girl might actually be mentally deranged; by the end of those fifteen minutes, Sunhwa had clambered into his lap and decided to quietly amuse herself by squishing his cheeks together. It would have been cute if she wasn’t the reason for his little breakdown.

Nevertheless, there’s still at least another hour until they have to pick her brothers up from school, and they might as well spend that time within the museum. He stands up, depositing her on the floor next to him; she holds his hand without question this time. Funny how well she behaves when she’s happy.

Why do his children have to be so morbid? He’d worry even more if Kyungmi’s mother hadn’t told him that her daughter was just the same when she was a little girl. Well, actually, Kyungmi’s obsession with dead things started when she was seven, but that’s only a four year difference, right?

He’s going to cling to that. The alternative is just too frightening to contemplate.

And besides – she can’t be evil, not when she’s grinning so cutely, and skipping like that – people are even smiling at her and looking at him like he’s lucky to have such a sweet child. He likes this feeling. It’s not something he’s used to, because most of the time he’s getting glares from angry strangers who do not enjoy being stuck near his troublesome children.

Of course, he doesn’t have long to get used to the sensation – because as soon as his back is turned, Sunhwa is trying to climb into a basalt stone sarcophagus that is taller than she is, but really, that’s to be expected.

He’s just lucky the security guards are so understanding.

Yes, this is shamelessly inspired by my own continuing childhood obsession with...human remains - but in my defense, my mother started it and I am an archaeology student. The British Museum is also my happy place and I adore it. I may or may not spend a little too much of my free time there.

I'm linking images of the artefacts for anyone who's interested. ^^ None of the pictures linked here are mine, by the way.

Ginger (the first skeleton I mention) 1 | Lindow Man 1 2 | Shiny coffin (Priestess Henutmehyt) 1 | Animal head finial of roasting spit 1 | Horned helmet 1 | Shields 1 2 | Swords 1 | Torcs 1 2 | Stone sarcophagus 1