When Kris leaves the pack one night, Minseok does not think much of it. Kris has always had a solitary streak in him, and Mineok understands how he may want to take a break from the pack every now. Tao’s clinginess, Jongdae’s unceasing chatter and Yixing’s surprising ability to creep up on people can do that to anyone and even Minseok himself, acknowledges how they can be a bit overwhelming at times.

(“Tao, please let go. Draping yourself over me when I am trying to have my breakfast does not make me anymore inclined to letting you leave the pack tonight.”

“But Jongdae gets to leave,” the whine is positively plaintive, “Why not me?”

“Because he has better control of his wolf and we all know how you get the week before the moon turns full—“

“Looks like you will never get to see SNSD performing live,” Jongdae doesn’t fail to add oil to fire as he interrupts the conversation in a most unconvincing display of sympathy. He snaps his fingers together, “And that hard earned 250 bucks you spent on the tickets—gone, just like this.”

“Jongdae—“

“I am getting better, Minseok, I am. I have good control now, and Jongdae will take care of me, so don’t worry—“

“Hey, wait a minute. I didn’t say I will take care of you—“

“You should play nice, Jongdae,” a new voice joins the conversation suddenly, issuing from an unsettlingly close distance to Minseok’s ears.

16 years ago, and Minseok will have jumped in his seat. However, Minseok is far past that stage and he does not so much as bat a single eyelid as he continues spooning the cereal into his mouth, unruffled.

“Would you like some cereal, Yixing?”

“I don’t think so,” Minseok can feel Yixing’s breaths on his ear, “Luhan dropped a box of Post yesterday and I saw him stuffing the spilled cereal back into the box.”

“I really want to go, Minseok. Please let me go to the concert, I promise I will behave. Please, Minseok, please.”

“I am not going to play chaperone.”

Steady breaths on Minseok’s neck.)

And so, Minseok can understand Kris’s need to be away from the pack because even he, the alpha, finds it difficult to tolerate the rest from time to time, much less Kris, who is one of the more normal members of the pack.

As such, Minseok simply notes in his mind the fact as such, and does not bother with the issue anymore. It’s not the first time Kris has done so, and Minseok trusts that Kris will return once he has fill of solitude.

But Kris never returns, not even after a week. It’s then when Minseok starts to panic, starts to wonder if perhaps Kris has ran into an accident, ran into rogue wolves or something worse when wondering outside, alone. He starts dreaming up nightmares and disasters that not even an anxious Luhan by his side could calm him down.

Minseok should have asked where Kris is going. Minseok should have gotten another person to go with Kris. Minseok should have the foresight to prevent hurt from coming to any of s.

In his haste, Minseok nearly conscripts his entire fleet of planes to search for Kris, but it is only because of Jongdae’s steadfast advice (Jongdae becomes surprisingly reliable in times of trouble) that Minseok remembers his responsibility is to the entire group, and not just solely to Kris.

Cancelling flights will have a huge backlash on the image of Continental Airlines, potentially crippling his company as investment gurus bemoan the business acuity of the leading man. No, Minseok cannot do that. Not only does he have his pack to look after, his employees are also relying on him to put 3 meals a day on their tables. Minseok owes a lot to many people.

Still, that doesn’t stop him from relegating planes meant for chartered flights to scouring the world for Kris. Minseok sends the entire pack, together with security specialists, out on those flights, hoping against hope that they will be able to catch a whiff of Kris’s scent and bring him back—for better or for the worse.

But searching the world for a man who doesn’t want to be found is akin to searching for a needle in the proverbial haystack. Not that Minseok knows that Kris does not want to be found at that point of time, he thought Kris was brought somewhere against his will and would be willingly leaving clues for s to find. And so, Minseok dedicated a good 3 years to searching for Kris, until everyone is fatigued, both physically and emotionally.

“Minseok,” Luhan starts hesitantly, “Maybe it’s time for us to st—“

“No,” Minseok cuts him off, knowing full well what Luhan is about to suggest. He has been hearing enough from concerned elders and shareholders alike to guess what he is about to say next.

“It has been 3 years, Minseok—“

“And time is precious. Every moment we spend talking can be a moment spent searching for Kris.”

Luhan’s eyes flicker for a moment and Minseok thinks he can almost taste his win. Luhan has always backed down when faced with a resolute Minseok, and Minseok expects no difference this time round. Luhan is not weak, he is not foolish, but he always has had a soft spot for Minseok and Minseok is slightly ashamed that he has been exploiting Luhan’s tender heart all this while to continue his search for Kris.

But contrary to Minseok’s expectations, Luhan’s resolution did not falter as it did many times before. Rather, a glint of something—determination perhaps?—enters Luhan’s eyes and he shuffles a bit before setting his feet on firmer grounds. His legs are shoulder-width apart and he looks Minseok in the eye, stance tight and strong.

“Kris is not coming back.” Luhan says it like he is stating a universal truth.

Minseok’s eyes hardens, “And who are you to say that?”

“As a member of your pack, as a director of the company, and as your mate for the past 7 years,” Luhan’s voice has steel in it, “I believe myself to be fully qualified to say this. You need to stop Minseok.”

Minseok is cold like an iceberg now, not a hint of emotion is visible on his face. “I hear an ‘or else’ unspoken.’

“Or else…” Luhan trails off and the set to his shoulders weaken briefly. However, he shakes his head and iron matching that of Minseok’s creeps into his eyes. He continues, “Or else you will ruin us all.”

“I don’t see how chartering a few flights will ruin us all.”

“Our stocks have been on a steady decline. Our accounting books are in the red. Continental Airlines is continuously on the Business Times for making decisions that does it no benefit, and people are worrying that it will flounder for another 20 years more before it bankrupts.” Luhan’s voice cracks near the end but he plods on nonetheless. He clenches his fists tight, and his eyes mist over.

Determination still glimmers in Luhan’s eyes though and he says, “But that’s not the most important. The most important is that the pack is falling apart, Minseok. It is falling apart and I don’t know what I can do to hold it together. This search—“ Luhan stops abruptly and takes in a deep breath. “This fool’s errand is taking a toll on all of us and we are sinking into melancholy. Tao never smiles nowadays and Yixing is always sleeping whenever he is not out trying to catch a whiff of Kris. And Jongdae, poor, sweet, dutiful Jongdae spends all his times buried in the books as he tries to make up for all that you have not been do—“

Minseok slams a fist into the wall then, effectively silencing Luhan with the loud crash. His previous calm has fallen away, replaced by raw emotions swirling together in a violent cesspool.

“You think I don’t notice all that?” Minseok growls, “You think I don’t see my own pack suffering?” Minseok grinds a little harder into the wall but he still doesn’t bleed. He hisses not at the pain, but in anger, “But our suffering only makes me speculate what Kris may be going through. He may in a situation 10 times worse than ours and I can’t do anything about it.”

“And do you know how that makes me feel?” Minseok lifts his fist and smashes it into the wall again. “It makes me feel like ing because I can’t do ing anything about it!”

Luhan’s face is terrifying in its pallor and beads of sweat can be seen on his forehead. He does not shrink away though, does not even jump at the sound of Minseok punching the walls. Luhan locks his feet and wills himself not to move, not to back down.

“If that’s your reason for forcing us to search,” Luhan says flatly, “Then you are ing selfish, Minseok.”

Minseok screams then, and his screams are animalistic. They have nothing human in them and Luhan instinctively cowers before he catches himself. He reaches a tentative hand out to Minseok but it is slapped away with enough force for Luhan to be sent falling backwards, his arm sounding a sickening crack.

In Luhan’s mind eye, he sees Minseok crying in the eye of a hurricane as the air whip at a terrible speed around him, entrapping Minseok in its cruel embrace. It forces Minseok into an underserving solitude and Luhan finds tears flowing down his cheeks as he does his best to force his way in there. Luhan may not be able to heal his pain, but at the very least, he wants to hold Minseok so that Minseok knows that he is not alone, is never alone.

All of Minseok’s burdens, all of Minseok’s hurt, Luhan is willing to take them all if that means Minseok will be saved.

2 minutes later, when Yixing and Jongdae slam the door open, they find a weeping Luhan and a Minseok who seems to be blind to anything but anger.

Yixing forces Luhan out of the room while Jongdae locks the door.

It will fall like cardboard if Minseok wishes to destroy it. But at the very least, Jongdae thinks to himself, it softens the screams.

-

While being a painful experience for Minseok, the altercation with Luhan served the purpose of reminding Minseok of his priorities. The harsh truth has to be faced and Minseok faces it with equal part alcohol and equal part drugs. It takes a while before dear Luhan, sweet Luhan, blessedly kind Luhan who is far too good for Minseok is able to drag him out of his dumps.

But once freed from the intoxicating tendrils, Minseok lurches back to reality with a sickening feeling in his stomach and an aneurysm in his head.

He remembers his duties though. Once lucid, Minseok says, “Call off the search for Kris.”

Luhan morphs into a strange mixture of emotions and Minseok tries to read it before he decides that his brain is clearly not up to it now. He grimaces before falling back onto the pillows, back into a deeper, more restful sleep as he knows Luhan will pass on his instructions.

3 years, 4 months and 21 days after the start, the search for Kris Wu is officially cancelled.

-

“I do not see how this is a valid reason,” Minseok says tersely, his voice reflecting only the bare minimum of respect required when speaking to the elders.

The first elder frowns, “You obsession over the notion of recovering Kris Wu plunged your pack into chaos for 3 and a half years. There was no one available to lead the pack—“

“Pardon my interruption, sir,” Minseok cuts in with an insincere apology, “But Luhan led the pack with a strong hand during the years when I was indisposed.”

“He did a serviceable job,” the third elder shrugs, “But it is none too stellar. You need another alpha for the job of leading a pack. And right now, your pack has none, other than you yourself, Kim Minseok.”

“Why not assign another alpha to the pack then?” Minseok says frustratedly, “Why do you insist on merging 2 packs together when a simpler solution exists?”

“Because in light of your recent outrageous behaviour, the council has deliberated and we have decided that 5 is too small a number for a stable pack to exists,” the third elder leans forward and holds 6 fingers up, “6 or more is the smallest-sized pack we are willing to sanction now, and 2 in the pack must be alphas.”

“You did not answer my question, sir.”

“I did not think you were really asking for one, Kim Minseok.”

“I am asking for one. I deserve an answer, sir.”

A sudden glint enters the third elder’s eyes. “Deserve?” he snorts scornfully. “You deserve nothing, Kim Minseok. You caused harm to your brothers while creating a ruckus in the human world. You nearly exposed our identities to the average human on the streets in your distress and you could barely handle the strength of your emotions when your mate forces the truth upon you. You are strong and weak all at once, and you deserve nothing other than what our generosity allows you.”

Minseok grinds his teeth and clenches his fist.

The third elder spots this motion. “Oh? And are you going to hit me now, Kim Minseok? Have you forgotten your duties as an alpha so much so that you are willing to abandon your—“

“Peace, Lee,” the first elder interjects, holding up a hand. “Kim Minseok is simply young and rash, just as we once were.”

“I doubt anyone could have reached the level of stupidity Kim Minseok did,” the third elder sniffs.

“That may be the truth,” the first elder accedes (Minseok bristles at his words), “But the child demands an explanation and there is little reason for us to begrudge him of one, Lee.”

“Do we give people the world simply because they demand for it?”

“An explanation and the world are on vastly different scale, Lee,” the first elder smiles drily.

The third elder rolls his eyes, crosses his arms before he pushes his chair backward a little as if saying that he is washing his hands off this entire conversation.

“Thank you,” the first elder says quietly before he turns to Minseok. His eyes rake across Minseok, as if judging him, before he finally speaks, “The explanation is simple, Kim Minseok. No sole alpha is willing to join your pack in light of your strength. You are too strong and experienced and emotional, and the other alphas are too weak and inexperienced and young. They doubt their abilities of stopping you should you go into a rampage again, and none of them are willing to risk their reputation for that.”

Minseok gathers the words in his mind carefully, going through them till he comes up with an appropriate answer. “I swear to not lose control of myself again, sir.”

“A promise is nothing in the face of a broken heart.”

“Then,” Minseok pauses and his lips. “I accept the wisdom of the council’s decision but seek to appeal it.”

The third elder snorts again.

Minseok glares subtly at the third elder before he continues, “I am willing to accept the merger with another pack, so long as it is not Kim Jongin’s.”

“The choice is not up to you, Kim Minseok. Many packs have long reached a stabilized dynamic and none of them wishes to rock the boat. Kim Jongin is one of the few who is willing to undertake such a proposal.”

“I am certain that there exist packs not averse the ideas. I can persuade them, sir—“

“Enough, Kim Minseok,” the first elder cuts Minseok off with a tone of finality. “Argue with us no further, for even my patience runs thin. You demanded an explanation, and we have given you one."

"But--"

The first elder fixes Minseok with a stern eye, "Leave now, and prepare for your merger with Kim Jongin’s pack.” His tone gives Minseok no room to argue.

The doors open silently, and Minseok leaves with a trembling heart.