A little girl was sitting on the steps to a building, crying quietly into her lap. Her chubby hands hid her face from view, but her shoulders were heaving. Her muffled sobs were barely audible, but her hunched shoulders shook violently. A little boy walked by and cocked his head, regarding her curiously.

                He was drawn to her and bounded up the steps, before stopping front of her. The girl heard the footsteps and shakily looked up, wiping at her tears as she tried to see who this intruder on her grief was. The little boy standing in front of her was adorable and he cocked his head to the side and regarded her with a fish-like pout.

                “Are you okay? Why are you crying?” He fished around in his pockets for a tissue and produced a huge wad of them, dropping it in her lap. “Here, no more crying. What’s your name?”

                The girl stared, gape-mouthed at this kindly stranger. “Are you deaf? Because umma taught my sign language.” He started to make a wild number of gestures and the girl smiled a bit. Seeing this crack in her composure, the boy grinned. “Do you understand what I was saying?”

                “I can shpeak. Thank you,” there was a slight lisp in her words.

                The boy huffed indignantly. “So you’ve been ignoring me the whole time? Hmmphs, I just wanted to know why you were crying.”

                She giggled slightly, fascinated by his tantrum. “I lost the keys to my house, and nobody’s home.”

                He nodded. “Oooh, well I know a plan! My name is Donghae, by the way. I’ll take you home! My hyung will know what to do!” He reached for her hand and pulled her away from her stoop. “So, what’s your name? I’m five years old. What about you? I’m starting school next week.”

                “I’m Maliha, I’m four but my umma is sending me to school too.”

                Donghae regarded her with a horrified look. “What? When I was four, I spent all day playing with my hyungs. Poor you,” he patted her on the head. He swung their hands together and started skipping in the opposite direction.

                After a few blocks, they reached a large white house. Even before he could knock, the doors swung open and an imperious looking boy stood out. He was really pretty, around eight, and frowned at Donghae. “Where were you? You’re holding up dinner. I’m hungry.”

                “Hyung, this is Maliha. I found her on a doorstep. She lost her keys and nobody was home. So I brought her home because you always know what to do.”

                The older boy smiled slightly and sniffed. “I suppose. Come inside, does she speak?”

                “Yeah, she does hyung! What’s for dinner?”

                The entire time, Maliha felt nervous, shy about having to later talk to this hyung person. He clearly was older and wiser. Maybe Donghae was right. Maybe she would learn something from him. After a delicious dinner of fish, to which Donghae cried a bit, the hyung pulled Maliha onto the couch. Donghae jumped up happily and landed next to her. He placed his hands on his chin and started up at the two of them.

                The older boy sat across from them and asked, “So, Maliha tell me what is wrong.”

                “Umm, ahh, hyung? I was coming back from the park and I wealized I didn’t have my key. I walked back to try and find it, but I couldn’t. When I rang the bell for umma, she wasn’t home. So I sat on the shteps and started crying. Then Donghae said hyung can help. Can you help hyung?” She gazed up at him with hopeful eyes.

                He jumped up in horror. “Oh my gosh! I’m Heechul-oppa to you! You’re a girl, you can’t call me hyung!”

                At this Maliha started to whimper. “B-but, Donghae said hyung would help! Hyung would help, not Heechoo-papa! I want hyung!”

                Donghae placed an arm protectively around her. “Hyung! Help her!”

                Heechul rolled his eyes. “Aish, what is this world coming to? Girls calling boys hyungs. Arrasso, arrasso. So you need to get home? Okay, what time does your umma get home?”

                Maliha continued crying. “D-Donghae, I don’t want to talk to Heechoo-papa! I want hyung! Hyung can help me!”

                Sighing, the older boy knelt down beside her. “Okay, hyung is here. Now answer my question.”

                Her sniffled subsided and she peered up at him with squishy cheeks. “Hyung is here? Okay. Umma comes home at eight.”

                Heechul checked his watch. “It’s almost eight. Come, we should walk back and then we’ll see your umma and she can let you in.”

                Maliha stood up and Donghae slid his hand in hers before taking Heechul in his other hand. “Let’s get Maliha home!”

                As they walked up the block, the little boy between them wriggled around constantly and smiled at Maliha. Up ahead, a frantic figure was crying and shouting her name. “Umma!” Maliha broke away and ran towards her mother. There was a touching moment of reunion before the boys approached.

                “I hope she’ll be okay. She lost her keys, so my little brother brought her home. We gave her fish for dinner because our umma says fish is good for the soul,” Heechul explained. At this Maliha’s mom laughed and patted his head.

                “Maliha’s umma, can we play with Maliha sometimes too?” Donghae asked. He pouted and cocked his head to the side, employing aegyo without even realizing.

                “Of course!”

                From then on, you can never see the three apart. Once high school started, Donghae had started to realize his feelings for Maliha and Heechul was forever stuck as hyung.

                “Hey, hyung, can you pass the ketchup?”

                It was Maliha’s birthday and they were in the school cafeteria, celebrating with a large pile of fries Donghae had bought. Heechul set his plate down deliberately on the table and glared at her.

                “Look, you’re fifteen now. Isn’t it about time you embraced your girl roots and called me oppa? I’ve tolerated it for eleven years already. Yeesh, woman. Come on, let’s try it. Ohhh pppaaaa.” He enunciated the word in an exaggerated fashion.

                Maliha shook her head stubbornly. “Nope, it’s going to be hyung, Hyung, hyung, hyung, hyungie, hyung-nim, I don’t care. It’s hyung.”

                With an exasperated sigh, Heechul threw his arms up in the air. “Donghae, control her.” But his dongsaeng only shrugged, completely amused, and not entirely aware that it was him who had started this trend.

                Maliha smiled at Heechul and poked herself in the cheeks. “It’s my birthday, so it’s my say. Saranghae, hyungie!” The older man dropped his head on the table and ungraciously accepted defeat. 

I love you Maliha ♥

And no, there actually is no propoganda whatsoever, this plot has been running in my head ever since you asked for it.