“tempora mutantur, nos et mutamur in illis”

 

 

“I’m sorry you have to come with me, Kai.”

 

Just like Luhan said, Kai came only a few minutes after he called him.  Luhan briefly explained to him about Chanyeol, and, looking intrigued and curious at the same time, Kai agreed to check on Chanyeol.  He even had the consideration to suggest buying some clothes for Chanyeol on the way.  More than that, Kai also suggested them to just walk, not riding any train or car or transit unit.  It surely would save many times by doing so, as the technologies could transfer them to their destination only in a couple of minutes.  But once again, Kai seemed to know what Baekhyun preferred more—to enjoy everything in an unrushed pace, as time was meant to be walked by, not to race with.

 

“No problem, Mr. Baekhyun,” Kai smiled as he walked beside him, steps carefully adjusted to match Baekhyun’s, one hand bringing shopping bag with Chanyeol’s clothes in it, “Although at first I thought it was another excuse Luhan made up to get me away from him.”

 

That was strange, Baekhyun thought.  Since in his eyes, Luhan and Kai looked so close, more like brothers than owner and personal guard.

 

“Does Luhan do that a lot?”

 

“Yes, since a semester ago.”

 

“Why?”

 

“So that he can stalk Professor Minseok.”

 

“So he can what?”

 

Baekhyun was shocked and amused at the same time as Kai told him how Luhan had been having a big crush on their History professor.  He said that the boisterous and feisty Luhan would turn into a shy teenage girl around him.  He’d immediately blush when Professor Minseok looked at him, and he’d severely stammer when he asked him questions in the class.  Luhan would sit in the very corner of the class so he could stare at him freely without getting caught, and he’d stalk him whenever he didn’t have any class to attend.  Then he’d be raving about Professor Minseok this Professor Minseok that to Kai for the rest of the day, tiny hearts spilling from his eyes.

 

“Ehhh???  Professor Minseok actually knows Luhan has been following him???”

 

“Yes,” Kai chuckled, quickly pressed a finger on his lips, winking, “but don’t tell him that.  Yet.”

 

Baekhyun grinned in conspiration.

 

“Roger that!”

 

He made a gesture of zipping up his lips, and gave the imaginary key to Kai.  Kai then slid his hand very carefully into his pocket, keeping the imaginary key save.  He faked a relieved huff as he patted his pocket.

 

“Now that the secret is safe, young master can resume his stalking career for at least another decade.”

 

Baekhyun laughed again.

 

It was his first time being only with Kai.  He was kind of worried and a bit scared at first.  Not because Kai was indifferent or intimidating.  In fact, despite his enigmatic appearance, Kai was very amiable and considerate.  It just that Kai could be too calm sometimes, like his silence was a composition of intangible cobweb, ready to ensnare and trap whoever comes too near.  It made him somehow nervous around Kai, careful of words he wanted to say.  But as they walked together, Baekhyun realized how easy it actually is to talk to Kai.  He seemed to like listening more, but it was enjoyable everytime he spoke.  Chuckles and laughs easily floated between them.

 

And Kai had a charming laugh.  His voice was pleasant to hear, warm and soothing like evening breeze.  His smile was one that promises a feeling of safety and secure.  His dark eyes were an honest mirror gleaming truthful delight.

 

It was still a big question for Baekhyun about how a set of engines could create such perfect imitation.

 

“You look too much like a human.”

 

Kai widened his eyes in surprise, and Baekhyun quickly covered his mouth with his hands, realizing what he just said out loud.

 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Kai, I didn’t mean to—I just—I think you are—did I offend you?”

 

Kai chuckled, light and airy.

 

“No, you didn’t, Mr. Baekhyun.  It can be considered as a praise, actually.  At least for another of my kind.”

 

Putting down his hands from his mouth, Baekhyun had his panic being replaced by confusion.

 

“A praise?”

 

“Yes, a praise.” Kai made his calming smile again, a dimple peeking on his cheek, “Many of my kind has been trying to make themselves feel like a human instead of a machine, Mr. Baekhyun.  We are created with many characterisics similar to what human has, a need to be acknowledged is one of it.  Pride is another, as some of us simply just justify themselves as human since the beginning.  But, Mr. Baekhyun, I never wish to be considered as one.”

 

“Why?”

 

Kai smiled wider, gentler.  But Baekhyun noticed a disguised tone of sadness in his voice.

 

“I’ve done many things in the past that make me don’t deserve to be called human.”

 

Baekhyun stared at Kai, whose gaze fell faraway, like revisiting an old memory being kept in the folds of the time.

 

It was the first time he heard a Persona talked about himself, about his being, his existence.  Baekhyun had been assuming that Personas simply just lived their lifes without having the burden to question their entity.  And, for a reason Baekhyun wasn’t sure he’d ever be brave enough to ask about, Kai had confessed his acceptance of what he is not.

 

But seeing the way silenced guilt and concealed sorrow sent a ripple to his usual unruffled surface, making even the shining circle in his eyes seemed to dim, Baekhyun thought otherwise.

 

“But I want to, Kai.”

 

Kai brought himself back from the journey to the past, finding Baekhyun looking at him with earnest glint in his eyes.

 

“I want to think of you as a human.”  Baekhyun said again, clear and honest, words tumbled down easily in a string of confession and hope, “I know you’re not exactly a human, and I know you don’t wish to be considered as one.  But, at least, I want to think of you as a friend.”

 

Baekhyun paused, making way for doubt to slip into his voice.

 

“Can I?”

 

Kai smiled, and warmth came back to rest in his eyes again.

 

“Sure, Mr. Baekhyun.  Thank you.”

 

Baekhyun beamed.  He let himself reveled in the serenity flowing from Kai’s soften gaze.

 

“And you should just call me Baekhyun!  Friends don’t call each other with ‘Mister’!”

 

Kai chuckled, his laugh resonated in the air like zephyr bringing the sweetest song of the trees.

 

“Okay, Baekhyun.”

 

Baekhyun grinned, happy that Kai finally dropped the formalities.  Kai reciprocated with the same wide smile, his hand found its way to Baekhyun’s head, caressing it gently.

 

And a loud cracking sound reverberated, cutting through the air.  Heavy thumping echoed, a harsh movement flashed in front of his eyes.  And the next second, Chanyeol was there, breaths raged, teeth gritting.  His hand gripped hard on Kai’s wrist, snatching it away from Baekhyun’s head. 

 

“Chanyeol, what are you doing?!” 

 

His fingers coiled angrily around Kai’s wrist, eyes deadly with smoldering fire, threatening growls emitted from deep in his throat.  If Kai was a human, Baekhyun was sure he already broke his hand from such strenght.

 

“Ah, you must be Chanyeol.”

 

Kai greeted calmly, smiling sagely as if Chanyeol was just a child accidentally bumped into him and spilled some ice cream on his coat.  Chanyeol didn’t seem to appreciate his name being said, his canines appeared menacingly.

 

“I’m sorry, Kai, I don’t know why he’s like this—Chanyeol, let go of him!”

 

Chanyeol growled louder, his grip didn’t loosen one bit even after Kai put his hand down, showing no mean of any harm.  Baekhyun tried to pry his fingers off of Kai and easily failed, his effort was no match for Chanyeol’s inhuman strength.  He sighed, trying to think of another way to make Chanyeol listen to him.  A wrinkled paper plane tucked in one of Chanyeol’s pocket reminded Baekhyun how Chanyeol recognized praise more than scold.

 

“Chanyeol, look what I’ve got for you!” Baekhyun changed his tone into a cheery one, showing a thick stack of colorful papers he grabbed out of his bag, “A reward for keeping the house safe while I was away!”

 

The flare in Chanyeol’s eyes quenched right away at the sight of the colorful papers, replaced by sparkles of vivid amazement.  But his hand seemed as if having its own mind, still holding a tight grip on Kai’s hand like an unforgiving garrote.  Baekhyun offered a smile with an opened hand reaching out at Chanyeol, asking to be taken.

 

“Why don’t we go home and I’ll teach you how to make another plane?”

 

Then Baekhyun knew Chanyeol’s hands enjoyed more of making shapes than inflicting pains, as Chanyeol finally let go of Kai’s hand and took Baekhyun’s instead.  Smiling wider to see Chanyeol already dropped all of his sudden ferocious facade, Baekhyun walked them back into the house, which front door already lied flat on the ground.

 

And Chanyeol really did keep the house safe.  Other than the front door he broke down before attacking Kai—which Kai offered to repair right away—there wasn’t any new damage.  Despite Baekhyun’s doubt and worry, Chanyeol turned out to be obeying all his words before he left.  There was no burning stove or oven, no crashed door or torn knob, no trace of Chanyeol biting on anything other than foods he prepared for him.  Seeing how the television heated up quite severely, Baekhyun guessed Chanyeol had been spending the whole day watching it and only stood up to get his lunch.  Baekhyun was quite gratified of the improvement.

 

But when Kai tried to examine him, all kinds of distraction Baekhyun had catalogued with much difficulty came to vain. 

 

Chanyeol reacted like a child being dragged to a dentist, only he was a lot more rabid.  He tried to peel off Kai’s face at the hairline as he checked for his eyes.  He made an attempt to strangle on Kai’s neck as he examined his torso.  And he clearly intended to grab and squash Kai’s head when he looked at the back of his neck.  Chanyeol ignored every ‘stop!’ and ‘don’t!’ Baekhyun threw at him, and he raged even more everytime Kai’s name being voiced out by him.  Baekhyun was utterly grateful of Kai’s agility to avoid all of Chanyeol’s assaults, or else he might have seen Kai in smithereens out of Chanyeol’s unusual ferocity.

 

It didn’t take too long for Kai to finish.  In the end, he stared into Chanyeol’s eyes the same way he did to Baekhyun the first time they met, only slightly longer and a sheer frown almost invisibly appeared between his eyebrows.

 

“It’s nice to meet you, Chanyeol.”

 

Chanyeol nearly bit Kai’s fingers off when he offered a hand for a handshake.

 

“Isn’t Chanyeol really lively.”

 

Kai said with a light tone as Baekhyun walked him to the porch.  Baekhyun let out an exhausted sigh when he finally able to convince the still fuming Chanyeol to stay seated in the living room and let him go talk to Kai alone.  While Kai, in the other hand, looked more like he just spent some time babysitting a hyper toddler with a tendency of throwing tantrum, and yet still found him adorable nevertheless.  Baekhyun wondered if it was all those years of taking care of Luhan that moulded Kai’s patience, but then again he didn’t think Luhan ever tried to rip him off everytime he’s being approached.

 

If it wasn’t Kai who said it, Baekhyun would think those words were meant to be sarcastic.

 

“I’m really sorry for the trouble, I seriously have no idea what have gotten into Chanyeol today.”

 

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” Kai swatted away Baekhyun’s apologies nonchalantly, “The idea of possession is one of human’s most primordial nature.”

 

“What?  What possession, what do you—wait, did you just say human?”

 

“I did.  And I did not.”

 

Kai leaned his back at one wooden pillar on the porch, where Chanyeol’s figure could be seen quite clearly.  Baekhyun stood closely in front of him, waiting for him to elaborate.  He could feel Chanyeol’s eyes bored at them, maybe at Kai in particular, and Baekhyun was glad Chanyeol didn’t come with laser beam coming out of his eyes.

 

“Chanyeol is not a human, Baekhyun,” Kai started, as relaxed as a storyteller opening his first page of tale, “not in a definition used in general, at least.  No human life ever has to depend on a sole system as a clockwork, which we can assume to be Chanyeol’s case.  But from what I’ve seen, he’s not entirely mechanical either.”

 

Chanyeol fidgeted in his seat in front of the television, sulkily picking on the frail bristles of the carpet beneath him, and Kai glanced at him with the corner of his eyes.

 

“He has neither Crux, Wires, or Coffer, as he has no Igniter to activate all of those.  And he has no Barcode on the underside of his left eyeball, which every Persona should have as an information of the series, date of assembly, and registered owner.  He might have been a custom droid, a supposed to be hidden one.”

 

Baekhyun reminded how Chanyeol was left in a hidden room under the house, and he started to question if he wasn’t suppose to find him—to bring him to life. 

 

“But despite all that, Baekhyun, everything coming from him isn’t one engines could produce.” Kai resumed, leaning deeper into the pillar, arms crossed against his chest, “I know the heartbeat and breath of my kind when I hear one.  No matter how almost impecabbly similar it is to human’s, there’s always a faint murmur of divergence in it only us would recognize.  But it’s not like that with Chanyeol’s.  I can’t catch even a tiny sliver of artificial hint in his.”

 

Kai brought his eyes to Chanyeol again, who replied with a threatening glare.  He paused, like trying to catch voices Chanyeol made from within.

 

“He sounds just like you.  Like human.”

 

Another uncertainty.  And it left Baekhyun sank into an even deeper stream of puzzles with currents of unwitting feeling swirling in the undertow.  He had thought of Chanyeol as an anomaly, one who stuck in the middle of technology of the past and future.  But now, he couldn’t even find any word to label Chanyeol with, as his being fell in the shadow separating two entities.

 

“Then what is he?  If he’s not a human, and he’s not a Persona either, then what is he?”

 

And what actually separates one from the other?

 

A thin smile formed on the seam of Kai’s lips, his gaze unfathomable and voice undecipherable.

 

“Soul is only there to be seen by those who believe.”

 

Baekhyun wasn’t sure he understand anything anymore.

 

Upon seeing dubiety reigned over Baekhyun’s expression,  Kai made a motion to pat Baekhyun’s head.  Chanyeol growled and Kai stopped midway, chuckling softly.

 

“But here is one thing I get to know for sure.” Kai said again with voice much less abstruse,  “The key on his nape, it has Flesh Memory System, just like what you find in doors, windows, and other devices need to be locked occasionally.  It’s the same, only with a little exception.  It works on a single touch recognition system.  It seems to only keep the first touch as the code.”

 

Kai bowed his head, adjusting his eye level to Baekhyun’s.

 

“That means, Baekhyun, only you can turn his key.”

 

A slight quiver run through his body at the revelation, his voice tremulous as he struggled to gather words.

 

“So, what—what should I do?” 

 

“Maybe try to get to know him better.”

 

How?

 

As if hearing what Baekhyun noiselessly voiced out, Kai rest his hand at the top of Baekhyun’s head, ignoring the erupted anger from across the room.  His smile was solemn yet serene as he gave him pacifying caresses.

 

“Take your time.  You have his whole heartbeats in your hand.” 

 

 

*  *  *

 

 

Baekhyun wished he also had his whole strings in his hand.

 

“Chanyeol, no, stop, you’ll tear down the chandelier!”

 

Even hours after Kai left, Chanyeol didn’t seem to be able to calm down his rage.  It was just like they were going back to square one, with Chanyeol tried to destroy everything in sight.  But this time, it wasn’t out of curiosity.

 

“Chanyeol, no, don’t rip the wallpaper off!”

 

Baekhyun had tried to distract Chanyeol the best he could.  But neither television, folding papers, or two dozen slices of pancake seemed to have the power to calm Chanyeol now.  Baekhyun wasn’t sure what it was that disturbed Chanyeol so much.  Was it because he had left him in the house alone for too long?  Was it because of the hug he and Kai shared as a way to bid farewell?  Or was it simply because Chanyeol didn’t like meeting someone he wasn’t familiar with?

 

“Chanyeol.  Chanyeol!”  Baekhyun lunged himself to stop Chanyeol from wrecking another line of vases, trying hard to meet Chanyeol’s eyes, “Chanyeol, I’m sorry I brought a friend home without telling you first.  But Kai is nice, he didn’t mean any harm on you.”

 

Baekhyun realized his mistake when Chanyeol turned his face at him at the mention of Kai’s name, eyes flared like a fire being nurtured with a new pour of fuel. 

 

More smashes and crashes heard throughout the house, overlapping each other like hailstrom.  Baekhyun covered his ears from all the noises, unable to utter any more word to stop Chanyeol.

 

Maybe try to get to know him better.

 

But Chanyeol didn’t make it any easier for him to do so.  He was just as a unpredictable as a coin being tossed into the air.  One time he would be so tame and docile, following his examples and obeying his words without asking.  Another time he would run amok, warnings and pleads passed through his ear like insignificant wisp of air.

 

Chanyeol just broke another chair in the kitchen, leaving only one still unscathed—no one knows for how long.

 

Only you can turn his key.

 

Baekhyun wondered if he should’ve just left Chanyeol the way he was.  Motionless.  Breathless.

 

“Welcome home.”

 

Baekhyun shut his eyes tightly.  His mind was too distraught to make a judgement, to decide what should and shouldn’t have been done.

 

“Chanyeol, I’m going to bed.”

 

Baekhyun turned around, sauntering towards his room, didn’t even bother to make sure Chanyeol heard him or not.  He suddenly felt so tired, he needed to drown himself in a small bout of peaceful sleep to have both his mind and body revived.

 

But just when he started tucking himself under the blanket, Chanyeol walked into the room.  His rage seemed to have abated a little, but Baekhyun was too tired to handle anything anymore.  Chanyeol tug on his blanket, looking for his attention.  Baekhyun rolled to face the wall, giving his back to face Chanyeol.  Chanyeol tug on his blanket again, more insistent this time, and Baekhyun’s patience was already wearing so thin.  When he didn’t get any reaction he wanted, Chanyeol fiercely pull on his blanket—and it ripped into two. 

 

“Chanyeol!” Baekhyun snapped, turning his back around to glare at Chanyeol, “What do you want?!”

 

Seeing Baekhyun reacted, Chanyeol looked for other things to reach, to torn.  He grabbed Baekhyun’s pillow and threw it across the room, knocking down the coat racks with a loud thump.  Baekhyun shut his eyes close, exhaled heavily, trying to calm himself down. 

 

“Chanyeol, I don’t know what have gotten into you, but if you’ll listen to me and stop destroying everything, I’ll just forgive you and let you sleep with me on the be—CHANYEOL, NO!”

 

Chanyeol had reached at the night stand, his hand swept everything on it with a single move.  Crashes after crashes heard as everything thrown to the floor.  The dreamcatcher, the music box, the night light, and, with a shrill sound of shattering—his photograph with his father.

 

Abrupt silence broke into the room, and Chanyeol stopped.  He glanced at Baekhyun, who stared unmoving at the broken photograph.  The frame had disfigured, bent and dented.  Glass shattered into pieces and grains.  The photograph lied crushed and crumpled.

 

It was pieces of home he brought with him.

 

“Get out.”

 

His voice was cold and distant.  He didn’t spare a glance at Chanyeol, who stood rigid on his place.  A few seconds of harsh and deafening silence, and Baekhyun could see Chanyeol’s feet moved, retreating from his room in noiseless steps.  The silence grew louder, draping the room like a heavy shadow.

 

Baekhyun drank the silence, letting it lodged in his throat, choking out any remaining words.  He only sat there on his bed, giving time for his mind to get rid of anger fogging it thickly.  He still could feel the tremors in his hands, and he had to clench it into fist to stop the quiver.  He couldn’t remember when was the last time he got this angry.

 

He calmed down as the first raindrops meet the earth.

 

It came as a whispering drizzle, before it descended all at once into a melodic downpour.  The rain conducted a soothing orchestra for his ear, washing away what’s left of his ire.  Cold started to sneak its tendrils into the house, and Baekhyun remembered he hadn’t properly closed the windows.  He stood up from his bed.  The room was a mess, but he only sighed and tried to overlook most of it.  He only bent down to pick up the things that matter to him; the dreamcatcher, the music box, the night light, everything his father made and gave to him.  He gently picked up the photograph between the shards, smoothing it with his hand before putting it carefully on the nightstand.

 

His living room looked like it just got hit by a hurricane.

 

Bits and pieces of ripped and torn material scattered on the floor, and he had to tiptoe to avoid stumbling over it as he walked.  The window was slightly ajar, letting a torrent of rain sound flowed into the room, the curtain billowed by the whistling wind.  Baekhyun shut the window closed, locking the latch, and the rain sound hushed into a soft murmur. 

 

Only then that Baekhyun realized how quiet it was.

 

“Chanyeol?”

 

His voice was swallowed by the silence, the only sound heard was the rain pitter-pattering on the window glass.  Chanyeol was no where to be seen.

 

He peeked into the kitchen, expecting to see Chanyeol devouring everything stored in the refrigreator, but he wasn’t there.  He looked at where the television stood, expecting to see Chanyeol watching it, legs spread in front of him as he mimic whatever move he saw, but he wasn’t there.  He looked into the library, expecting to see Chanyeol pulling every book on the shelves, but he wasn’t there.

 

He climbed down the stairs into where he saw Chanyeol for the first time, wishing to see him on his chair, maybe hugging his legs, sulking, and waited for Baekhyun to pick him up and teach him how to make a new paper plane—but he wasn’t there.

 

“Chanyeol?”

 

His voice faded into unanswered echoes.

 

Baekhyun run back upstairs, crossing the living room in a dash.  The front door was unlocked, but it was neatly closed.  The thought of Chanyeol remembering his words to open the door first making a gush of unpleasant feeling to grow in his chest.

 

Baekhyun turned the knob and opened it, the tight curtain of rain welcoming him.  He stepped out into it, barefoot.

 

Chanyeol.

 

The rain blurred his vision into a haze, and he couldn’t recognize any silhoutte.

 

Chanyeol.

 

The rain buried his voice into a whisper, and he couldn’t catch any sound beyond.

 

Chanyeol.

 

The rain hugged him with its freezing fingers, turning the skin under his nails blue and his teeth clattering. 

 

Only you can turn his key.

 

Cold seeped into his bones and blood.

 

Have he turned his key enough?

 

Have he given him enough time?

 

Have he given him enough time to find his way home?

 

Soaked and overwrought, Baekhyun walked back to his house, sitting on the steps in front of the door.  The rain had paced in rythm, urging the earlier melodious beats to turn into a cacophany overpowering any other sound, a thick gray into the darkening night.

 

The heavy pouring formed puddles on the porch, the water flowed down onto the steps under his shivering feet.  A red paper plane caught into the stream, slowly dragged along the silent flow, further and further away.

 

And fragments of memories came gushing at him all at once like a tidal wave.

 

Chanyeol stretched his lips to make him laugh.  Chanyeol poured a sea of paper planes onto his lap.  Chanyeol imitated a flying plane in front of the television.  Chanyeol followed him chew his pancake for twenty times.  Chanyeol put the jacket on his head.  Chanyeol watched behind the window as he left.

 

Every first memory he had with the house was made by Chanyeol.

 

“Welcome home.”

 

Baekhyun hugged himself tightly, his whole body trembling.

 

Will Chanyeol ever be home again?

 

 

*  *  *

 

 

Baekhyun woke up in his bed.

 

A slice of morning sunshine sneaked between the window frame, caressing his face with warm greeting.  Baekhyun squinted his eyes at the brightness, before sitting right up, realizing where he was.  The rain had stopped, the night had passed, and he was no longer shivering.  He looked around the room, and Baekhyun wondered if he was still dreaming—it was as if nothing happened the previous night.

 

Everything had been put back into place.  The coat rack stood straight at the corner of his room.  The dreamcatcher hang on the headboard, the feathers and beads completely attached.   The music box and the night lamp sat adjacent to each other on the night stand, not a single part missed.  The frame, even though still bent and dented, glassless, it stood steadily right where Baekhyun had always placed it, the photograph savely tucked in it.

 

He looked down on his blanket that covered him.  It had been sewed back together into one piece with a stapler, a long line of clipped staples visible at the seam where the fabric was ripped.

 

Chanyeol.

 

He stepped down from his bed, walked out of his room in rushed steps.  He arrived in the living room, and he was welcomed with the sight he didn’t expect.

 

Everything was fixed.

 

The wallpapers were placed back piece by piece with thousand pins, making the wall looked like a wide patchwork blanket.  Books were stacked and tied together under the chair, replacing one of the broken foot.  The vases were attached back with bandages.  Holes on the door were filled back with its pieces of wood, gathered together with a thick layer of sellotape. 

 

Everything was fixed.  In a way that made Baekhyun knew Chanyeol was home.

 

Chanyeol is home.

 

Baekhyun heard a soft voice of water dripping, and he hurried to the bathroom.

 

And Chanyeol was there.  Moving.  Breathing.

 

Baekhyun was about to run at him, when he realized Chanyeol got a company.  In the bathtub, there was a small puppy.  Chanyeol squatted down awkwardly beside the bathtub, trying to bathe it.  The puppy tried to eat bubbles covering its brown-and-white fur, and Chanyeol stopped him, shaking his head at the puppy.  Baekhyun had to supress his laughter to see how the scene resembled the time when he tried to bathe Chanyeol for the first time.

 

Baekhyun noticed a small cardboard box near the wash basin.  It was almost completely disfigured, traces of rain evident on its soaked surface.  Dirt and mud splattered on it, and a faded dots of scarlet smeared at one corner of the box.  Baekhyun looked up at the puppy, which had large towel wrapped around its body as Chanyeol dried it.  Then he realized that the puppy had a wound on its foot—which Chanyeol tried to cover with a ducktape.

 

“DON’T!”

 

Chanyeol’s head snapped at him, eyes widened as Baekhyun came into his sight, grabbing his hand.

 

“Chanyeol, you can’t wrap a wound with a ducktape!”

 

Baekhyun took the puppy from Chanyeol’s hand into his lap, examining his injury.  Chanyeol watched silently as Baekhyun treated the puppy’s wound, carefully cleaning and wrapping it with cotton gauze cloth.  The puppy barked and jumped happily at him once he finished, him all over the face.  Hugging the puppy close to his chest, Baekhyun laughed—and Chanyeol found his voice again.

 

“Welcome home.”

 

Baekhyun turned his face at Chanyeol, eyes filled with disbelief and shock.  Chanyeol was staring at him with fondness filling his eyes to the brim, and words seemed to be out of Baekhyun’s reach.  He struggled to grasp his voice back under Chanyeol’s ensnaring gaze.

 

“Chanyeol, I-I’m—“

 

“Sorry.”

 

Chanyeol cut his words, saying the exact word he was about to say.  His eyes darkened with guilt, regret rang loudly in his voice.

 

“Fix.  I will.  I will fix.”

 

Chanyeol talked with difficulty, deep frown formed on his forehead as he spoke, as if arranging and uttering words were harder than taking a single breath.  Each word tumbled down his mouth stiffly, yet the sincerety was undeniable.

 

Baekhyun recalled how he woke up seeing everything being put back to places, how everything was fixed.  It was all done in a peculiar way, but in every torn sheet being sewed back together, in every pieces gathered, Baekhyun knew how much struggle Chanyeol put into it, how he tried to make everything right—how he tried to make him smile again.

 

“It’s okay.”

 

His hand found its way to reach Chanyeol’s head, giving it a gentle .  A smile bloomed on his face.

 

“Good job, Chanyeol.”

 

Chanyeol beamed, his eyes lit up like sparks of fireworks.  He leaned into Baekhyun’s touch, closing his eyes as Baekhyun ran his fingers in his soft tuft of auburn hair, slowly and unrushed.  Chanyeol looked like he had been craving for his touch for so long, for a time no one could measure.  But with every he made, with every caress of Chanyeol’s soft breath on his hand, Baekhyun felt like he was the one who ached for the moment.

 

For Chanyeol.

 

“Arf!”

 

The puppy barked in Baekhyun’s hold, taking their attention back to him.  Baekhyun giggled as it gnawed on his fingers.  He pulled his hand down from Chanyeol’s head to rub at its belly.  Chanyeol frowned in jealousy, and Baekhyun laughed again.

 

“Did you find him last night?”

 

Chanyeol nodded, finger raised to point at the cardboard box.  There was not a single word written on the box.  Not a name, not even a ‘please take him’.

 

“No home.”

 

Baekhyun stared at Chanyeol, then to the puppy, and he found the resemblance.  They were both being left behind.  They were both lost.

 

But Baekhyun would change that.

 

“No, Chanyeol.”

 

He looked into Chanyeol’s eyes.  The shade of hazel in his eyes reminded him of a sunset, and he let the feeling of longing spring forth in his chest.

 

“Not anymore.”

 

He raised his hand to rest at the side of Chanyeol’s face again, thumb gliding in a feathery touch against Chanyeol’s warm skin.

 

“He’s home.  You’re home.”

 

Chanyeol smiled, so wide and bright that made even the sunshine seemed dull.  Baekhyun then found himself being pulled into an embrace, arms holding him so tightly yet tenderly, like he was a treasure meant to be kept for beyond a lifetime. 

 

And when the warmth he yearned for engulfing him gently, when the heartbeats sang him a lullaby, Baekhyun decided one thing.

 

It’s okay if Chanyeol didn’t understand many things.  It’s okay if Chanyeol broke and torn many things.

 

Because he thought, in the end, mistakes is one of things that makes someone a human.

 

 

 

 

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A/N:

2nd update for the day~ XD  The next chapter should be a SeKai one, but I guess I'll postpone it for a while because I have to go meditate and start making draft for Alohomora kekeke...  Thank you for always supporting me, my dearest readers!  None of my story would exist without you.  Saranghamnida <3