Fifteen always knew he was different. From the very first moment he set foot in the building he had been all but accepted for his different appearance. Not only was he tall for his age, but he also didn’t speak any Korean at first. He knows how he ended up here, he just doesn’t know why his parents didn’t try harder to save him. He had been on a family vacation in Seoul... Or maybe it was Busan? Either way, he hadn’t been in Canada when it all changed for him. Most of the details are fuzzy, but he does remember wandering a little ways away from his family at a mall. When he had turned around he found himself in a sea of strangers. His mom and dad had disappeared altogether. He had waited in that spot for nearly two hours before anyone had tried approaching him. One of the mall workers tried to tell him the mall was closing, but the poor boy hadn’t known how to comprehend the person’s words. There was a short transition period where he ended up living with this stranger for maybe a month before the man went bankrupt. It was obvious on his caretaker’s face that he didn’t want to give the little boy he had rescued away, but he had inevitably told him to try living in the decrepit building with fourteen very sad-looking boys.

Today these memories all decide to flood him at once as he rakes up the debris from the front lawn. The sun is shining warmly in the clear, early summer sky. Everything around him is peaceful as he tries to dig up his caretaker’s name once more. Perhaps if he could find that man again he could figure out where the mall he had been lost at was. In just a couple years he’d be able to leave and go searching for his parents. But for now, he’s still on front lawn duty with Eight and Twenty-Three. Eight is working not far away pulling weeds from the mostly-dead flower patch while Twenty-Three is trying to spread what little mulch he was given around some of the smaller trees. The only plants that are sturdy enough to still survive are the ugly ones. They will never flower again no matter how much Sooman insists that they will. Fifteen sighs deeply as he gazes down at the sturdiest plant of them all; the bamboo. Four had brought the little sprout with him for some reason, insisting that it was his lucky bamboo friend. Of course Sooman would not have a plant living in the house, so he had ordered Four to plant it in the driest, least-shaded area in the entire yard. Four had cried for days… or so the stories went. Only Two and Three were in the house when it had happened. But even to this day the bamboo continued to grow. Four would often come outside when the weather was nice and Sooman wasn’t summoning him.

Fifteen finally pulls his eyes away from the strong plant when someone tugs on his sleeve gently. He glances to his right quickly to find Twenty-Two still gripping the worn fabric of his t-shirt. The dark, curious eyes of the younger gaze right at the bamboo, but he doesn’t utter a word. He never does. No one in this house knows what his voice sounds like other than the sounds of his cries and screams when Sooman punishes him. The little ten-year-old finally looks up at Fifteen with a somewhat mischievous gleam in his eyes and a tiny smile on his thin face. Before Fifteen can even ask, Twenty-Two takes his wrist and starts dragging him toward the small grove of trees behind the house. Fifteen’s heart sinks as Eight and Twenty-Three simply watch him leave with the younger. Most of the boys know by now that when Twenty-Two wants something there’s almost no way of talking him out of it… Even if Sooman is making his rounds and checking to see who has finished his chores for the day. Clearly Fifteen hasn’t just yet, but Twenty-Two only tightens his grip when the elder tries to pull away.

“Gēgē, qǐng gēn wǒ lái. Wǒ xiǎng gàosù nǐ yīxiē tèbié de dōngxī,” the younger says sadly with his eyes focused right on Fifteen’s face.

Fifteen simply stares at him with wide eyes. No wonder he had never spoken a word. He hadn’t known how to in this country! Suddenly Fifteen realizes why Twenty-Two had always had such a special interest in him, Fourteen, and Seventeen; they are all obviously foreign like he is. The elder thinks over the younger boy’s words again. This time the words instantly make sense to him. This had been the language he had spoken before arriving in Korea; Mandarin. That was the first language he had ever learned. ‘Older brother, please come with me. I want to tell you something special,’ is the basic translation that he’s able to come up with. He hesitates a few more moments while he forces a decent response out of the recesses of his mind.

“Hǎole xiǎodì, wǒ huì lái de. Gěi wǒ kàn kàn. Xiāngxìn wǒ, wǒ huì bǎozhèng tā de ānquán,” he says steadily, though his eyes show that he’s unsure if his words are right.

Thankfully, Twenty-Two’s eyes light up as a smile spreads across his usually reserved face. The younger continues onward once more. Soon the two of them are standing alone in a clearing among the trees. Twenty-Two motions for Fifteen to take a seat on a soft patch of grass. The older quickly complies and focuses his full attention on the younger.

“Wǒ de míngzì shì Huáng Zǐtāo hé wǒ xiǎng zhèngmíng shénme, wǒ zhīdào,” the younger says with a grin.

‘Okay… so the kid knows his real name still. And he knows something special… perhaps this could be our ticket out of here?’ Fifteen thinks to himself as he gives the other a quick nod.

He honestly doesn’t know what to expect of this boy who still hadn’t managed to figure out much Korean in the four or so years since he had arrived here. But sure enough the boy takes a position where he’s sitting on his knees with his back straight and his ankles spread apart to support his weight. In an instant he jumps up from his restful state and begins to jump about rather gracefully with his fists and feet flying at invisible targets. Fifteen’s eyes widen yet again as he begins to see just how talented his dongsaeng is… and how potentially deadly. Already his mind starts racing ahead to possible ways they could use this to either bust out of the house all together or break into Sooman’s files to find everyone’s names or even both. He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice the other has stopped until the panting little boy rests a hand on his shoulder. His dark hair is sticking to his forehead in places as sweat rolls down the sides of his face. Instinctively Fifteen gives him a quick thumbs up and a small smile.

Unfortunately the two of them are not given much time for more conversation before a rather frightening sound rings through the forest. Sooman’s enraged voice is calling Fifteen’s number repeatedly. Without a moment to lose the two of them dash back the way Twenty-Two had first taken them until they stumble out of the forest not far from where Sooman is standing there waiting. That night the two of them get to experience simultaneous spankings, effectively solidifying their new-found friendship. And although Sooman remarks that Twenty-Two may be Consort material after all he dismisses the thought quickly when he sees those dark bags beneath the young boy’s eyes yet again. This isn’t the first time the boy had almost been made a Consort. It’s also not the first time he’s been denied it because of the circles beneath his eyes. Of course he understands almost none of the words the intimidating man is practically spitting at him. But his eyes settle on the tired-looking face of his fierce-faced friend.