i. " Happy." 

     Happiness had always been such an abstract concept to Sehun.

     He seemed to be always surrounded by it. Big, loving families that would hold each other warmly in their arms, other children playing around with their friends with huge grins spread on their faces, couples linking arms and pressing secretive kisses on each other – those were what happy people looked like. Sehun had none of these things. At eight is when his dad lost his job, at nine he saw his parents’ fight for the first time, and the year after Sehun moved away from the only place he had ever known into the heart of the outskirts of a big city. Sehun’s new home was a tiny corner house set in a small neighborhood no one willingly entered. He was quick to learn how different it was from his old one, and by the age of twelve, even quicker to forget how happy he had been.

         Near the end of a big city, a dysfunctional home set in the corner of a small neighborhood nobody willingly entered, is where Sehun lived.

     He hated everything about it.

Every time he managed to drag himself home from school he came back to the same bottles and broken glass scattered across the floor, the thick film of dust covering every piece of furniture, the old TV re-playing the same re-runs to itself, and his father, slumped lifelessly onto the couch with feelings numbed by the taste of alcohol until early hours of the morning. It was the same scenery everyday.

The first memory Sehun had of the new home was of the first time his father hit him. He couldn’t remember what he done to deserve it, but he could remember how the slap across his face thundered throughout the whole house. The second memory was of his father’s slurred yelling.

“I never understood why we had you, you’re nothing but a waste of space. I hate you!”

The complaints always started off as simple drunken rambling, but they escalated into screaming, and beatings, and the same dark, hatred filled eyes. The insults would rage for an entire night, and with his knees curled into his chest, he sat silently in the closet as the screaming turned back into mumbles, as if waiting as if a storm were pass, wondering if all his words were true. Maybe if he were never born, his parents would still be happy.

Eight years passed, Sehun still couldn’t remember what made him happy.

And in abscence of his happiness he reaped fear. 

As soon as the morning rolled around, his mother would quietly take him out of his hiding place while his father still slept and take the entire morning convincing him his father’s words weren’t true.

After his father had lost his job and started to find more comfort at the bottom of beer bottles than in the arms of his loved ones, his mother took it upon herself to rebuild her life. She found herself a job, and with her job a new man. Even at a young age, he was aware of his mother’s other relationships, even without her saying a word. He could hear all of her partner’s hushed whispers, and the touches away from his father’s eyes. That was when his father started to use him as a punching bag.

“Your father’s is going through a rough time, that’s all,” she would say while his head, “Soon, he’ll have a new job, we’ll move into the city, and everything will be back to normal.”

Even though it was whispered to avoid the wrath of his father’s hand, for years, Sehun believed it, that one day they would move into the city, that his father would return back to normal and that he would never get hit again. But years past, and soon he realized the empty promises in his mother’s lies. They promises began to sound emptier as he got older, and they stopped sounding comforting, and like a broken record.

Sehun had often wondered what would happen if she didn’t come back home and left him alone in the small house filled with nothing more but an unraveling husband and a forgotten child. He was convinced she would always come back home; she seemed to be the only lasting thing in his life.

But soon, her trips home became less frequent, coming home from work only to afterwards quickly rush off again. 

And one night, she didn’t show up after work.

Sehun had waited all night patiently by the door waiting her arrival, but she never came back. After the second night she was gone, he pretended that she had caught up in her work, that it was a longer time away and she would coming back open-armed and happy. But she never did.

He had been abandoned. He was completely alone.

There was silence in the house for two days after she left. His father didn’t speak for an entire day; he just sat and drank in silence. There was no use in filing for a missing person’s report, they both knew where she was.

As Sehun sat by the window of his back door for the third night in a row, crying to himself softly, he realized decided that he would never trust anyone again.

          But that was a rare occasion. His mother was hardly ever home, and when she wasn’t, the night lingered longer than is should have. He was left alone with his father.

     His father was always complaining. They would start out as quiet rumbles underneath his breath, but escalated into screams of regret, valuables being destroyed in anger, and dark, hatred filled eyes.

     “The reason your mother leaves is because of you!” His father’s harsh voice cut through him like knives, sending chills down his spine.

     ‘No,’ Sehun thought to himself, ‘it’s because of the other guy, and because of you.’

     “I hate you! You’re a pathetic mistake! A waste of space! You’re worthless!” His father’s yelling echoed through the empty house. Sehun was accustomed to the things he father said, so accustomed that sometimes he wondered if they were true. No one had ever told him that he was cherished, or loved, or wanted. Maybe if he weren’t born, his parents would still be happy. Maybe, if he were dead, he would be happy.

     Like a broken record, the insults looped the entire night. Sehun never did anything to stop them, and like waiting for a storm to pass, he curled himself up in the comfort of his closet, and listened as the angry shouts faded down into slurred, whispered mumbles that lulled him to sleep. It was the only comfort he ever had.

     As soon as the sun came up in the morning, the cycle repeated itself again. Wake up. Pass dad on the couch. Walk to school alone. That was Sehun’s life.

     And that was the way he always thought it would be, because no one ever cared about him, and no one ever would. Sehun was alone. Sehun was unhappy.

“That’ll be three thousand fifty won, sir.”

The cashier’s voice droned Sehun out of his thoughts. The small convenience store buzzed with life, students scattered throughout the store in their uniforms. School had ended on a couple of minutes ago, and Sehun had immediately gone to the shop, stomach growling in hunger. Food back at home was always a task to find; there was never enough of it. A cheap gas station meal would suffice his hunger for the night.

Placing the container of instant noodles and canned coffee on the countertop in front of him, Sehun dug around in his back pocket and handed over a fist full of coins he had collected.

The lady received the money reluctantly, and shifted through them.

“This isn’t enough, sir,” she informed, “I still need one thousand fifty more, please.”

With a stifled sigh, Sehun dug back into his back pocket, only to grasp at nothing.

“O-One second, please.” he mumbled in response, frantically digging through the school bag he had slung on his shoulder. The flush on his cheeks set in as he felt the annoyed presences of the other customers lined up behind him. //

                  “I’ll be paying for both of ours.”

                  A voice from behind him spoke up, and Sehun saw another hand placed a couple of hefty stack of bills onto the counter and his exact replica order.

                  Stunned, the woman took the bills hesitantly, “O-Okay, if you say so.”

                  Turning to behind him, Sehun saw the hand the stack of money belonged to. It was another student, his uniform nicely pressed and hair slicked back. He sauntered up to the counter, smile lopsided, and Sehun already hated him.

His smile was smug-like, almost taunting, as he chatted with the cashier and waited for his change. It was obvious he was from a wealthy background; the mannerisms and supply of money said it all. He had never liked rich children. The only thing rich children did was mock him, and with his smile already in place, he could tell he was about to be mocked again. He didn’t have time for it.

Snatching his items off of the counter Sehun rushed out of the store.

He had only walked a couple of steps outside before the same hand stopped him again.

“Yo!” The other boy called out. “A thank you could be nice, you know.”

Sehun tried to rip his hand away from the other’s but found his grip to be surprisingly sturdy, and he defensively stepping back, “Don’t touch me.”

“Hey, slow down. Only joking.” He smiled again as he spoke, loosening the grip he had on his wrist.

“Then what do you what?” Sehun snapped back.

“What I want? To return the change you left on the counter,” he shook his right fist to reveal the clinking sounds of the coins Sehun had left behind him. The flush returned to Sehun’s face, and he pulled his arm meekly back to his side as he received his change.

“Thanks.” Sehun mumbled underneath his breath.

“No problem,” The other revealed a gleaming smile, a curious, almost mischievous glint in his eyes.

Sehun kept his dead unnerving expression set on his face and he analyzed the boy in front of him. He had learned his lesson time and time again and he knew better not to easily trust a sweet smile.

“I have to go.” He spoke in response, turning away.

“Hey, wait a second.” The student tightened the grip on his wrist as he spoke, “I’m new to the school area, and I bought you your stuff. The least you could do is entertain me for a couple of minutes.”

Sehun rolled his eyes, “How, exactly?”

The other boy blinked in thought for a couple of moments before a new smile emerged from his face, even brighter than before. He clamped his hands over Sehun’s in one quick motion, leaning in closely.

“You can start by being my friend. My name’s Luhan.”

For the first time since he had moved, Sehun realized how pretty the view was from his house. He sat at the bottom of his house’s doorsteps, staying silent as he looked above him.

                  The entire day, Sehun had tried to leave Luhan behind, but he was persistent, and followed him everywhere. After a while, he was sick of trying to wave him off, and let him stay. Everywhere he would go, Luhan would trail behind him like a puppy. Even though he refused to admit it, the Sehun had enjoyed the company of another person. He had forgotten how it felt to have a friend.

                  “It’s getting late.” Sehun commented. “How’re you getting home?”

                  Luhan shrugged a little, “I’ll walk, I guess. My parent’s don’t really mind.”

                  The two sat in silence for a little while longer, enjoying each other’s company.

                  “Speaking of parents,” Luhan turned back to glance into the house, “Where’s yours?”

                  The window behind them was completely black other than the soft flicker of light from the corner, probably coming from the TV. There wasn’t any sound, which was a good thing. He doubted his father would be happy with him coming home late at night. The thought of him made his skin itch.

                  “Away, on vacation,” Sehun lied.

                  “They … left you home, alone?” Luhan questioned.

                  He hummed in response, “Only for a few days. They’re celebrating their anniversary in Gwangnaum.”

                  If there was one thing Sehun was good at, it was telling lies. He had grown accustomed to the years and years of teachers and police officers questioning his parents’ whereabouts, his life at home, his bruises, everything; there wasn’t a single question he couldn’t lie about.

                  The other boy scrunched his brows together, a puzzled expression knitting his face.

                  “Oh, it’s fine. I’ve been home alone before.” Sehun reassured him.

                  “If you say so,” He said, a slight frown on his face, “I guess I should go now.”

                  Luhan stood up, brushing of his slacks as he did. Sehun swallowed the growing lump in his throat. He was scared, as much as he didn’t want to believe it. When good things came into his life, they never came back.

                  “Okay. Be safe,” was all he managed to mumble, head tilted down towards his feet.

                  Luhan smiled at the other’s reaction, “Don’t worry. I’ll be back tomorrow. I promise.”

                  And with a wave, he was off. Sehun watched as he made his way down the street, staring off until he blended into the darkness of the street.

                  Sehun couldn’t help but let out a small smile.

The sound of soft tapping had woken Sehun up. His eyes opened to the painful glare of the sun peering through his open windows, and with a slight sigh he rolled over.

His entire body burned in pain. When he had finally stepped inside the night before, his father was slumped over into his couch, half-asleep as he always was. He decided he would just sneak upsides into bed, but it was too late. His father was there already, his dark eyes awaiting his arrival.

                  He had been hit worse before, and everything was fine. It would be fine again.

Thursday’s were one of the few days his father went into work, so the house would be silent for a couple of hours. Quickly, he turned out of bed to investigate the noise.

                  Peeking outside his bedroom window Sehun caught a glimpse of his reflection in its sheen, his eye had swelled up significantly since yesterday and his collarbone was littered with purple and blue markings going down to his chest. Consciously, he pulled up the neck of his baggy shirt before cupping his hands eyes his eyes, attempting to peer out the window.

Winter was around the corner, and the transition between the seasons were gradual but noticeable. His breath fogged the class over, the glass of the windowpane cold to touch. A light film of snow had covered the ground, and the sun was late to rise, only glimspes of light shining through the thick layer of clouds covering it. He rubbed away at the precipitation with his hands and scaned the grounds below him. 

                  Another boy stood in front of his house, tossing miniscule pieces of broken gravel against his window. Through his bangs, the boy tilted his head up and smiled at Sehun.

                  “Luhan?”

                  Sehun was quick to fly down his flight of stairs. A gust of cool air hit his face as he swung the door open. 

"What are you doing here? It's not even 7'o'clock yet." He asked before greeting him.

 “Someone hurt you?” Luhan answered in response to the bruise covering half of the other's enlarged face, ignoring the question. The swelling at set in, coloration of his skin depeening. 

A thin dusting of sweat covered Sehun's forehead. It certainly wasn't the first time he had been hit. After being hit so many times, blinking back tears became habitual to him, and teacher's stop caring when you don't show up to classes. Being persuasive was his key to survival. Usually, he would have time in advance to prepare a lie for a bruising, but on sudden notice, it was harder to think something up.

Sehun answered confidentally, "I got into a little fight yesterday with some kids when you dropped me home. Nothing too major though, just a few hits."

"No, it wasn't a fight." Luhan doubted. "Was it your father?" 

The layer of sweat thickened. Sehun knew was wasn't that easy to read, and continued with his story. 

"The kids are known in his area, I should have been home earlier, y'know," he concoted. 

With a stiff upper lip, Luhan pressed on, "How long have you been abused? Was your father always like this?" 

Sehun's mouth straightened. "You're not listening. I already said it was the kids." 

"But you're lying to me." Luhan deadpanned, arms crossed in a foreboding manner. 

The feeling in Sehun's chest was tight and strained making it hard to breathe. No one had ever been able to see through his lies; not his teacher's, or the principal, or the police themselves. He had done such a good job of lying that no one had ever interoggated and gotten it right. No one except for Luhan. 

---

     But now, he was falling apart. Sehun sat beside the doe eyed boy whose face was twisted in concern, and all of a sudden, felt it hard to lie.

     "I-I was just … I fell. I fell when I got home yesterday,” Sehun stammered out. 

     Luhan’s expression shifted from one of concern to hurt, and he cupped the other boy’s injury in his hand. “You’re lying. I’ve seen bruises like this before. Someone hit you. Someone hit you and it’s my fault b-because I brought you home too late …” his voice trembled, and Sehun could see his eyes filling with tears.

     Sehun felt the stinging of tears at the corners of his eyes, and he struggled to blink them back. He had never felt so horrible. “Luhan, it’s not your fault. It’s just … I did something dumb. Everything’s okay, I promise.”

     Luhan’s bottom lip trembled, tears threatening to fall from his eyes, and he asked a question he would have never thought to hear his entire life. “Sehun, are you okay? Really okay?”

     Sehun wanted to laugh. It was a stupid question, of course he wasn’t okay. He had never been just ‘okay’ with anything happening in his life, and he didn't think he'd ever be okay.

     Lie to him. 

      The voices ring inside of Sehun’s head. But he doesn’t. Sehun tells him everything. He tells him about when his father lost his job so his family packed up and moved into a small house they could barely afford. He tells him about his mother leaving him behind again and again just so she can escape from their rotting home. He tells him about his father drinking himself to content, about every smashed bottle and every bruise. Every dark secret flows out of his mouth before he can stop it.

     Sehun hadn't cried since the first time he had been left home on his own, it was a feeling that was still unfamiliar to him. As hot tears streamed down his face, it became harder to speak; his choked sobs interrupting his story about the first time he had been hit. All of his emotions crashed down on him at once.

     Luhan wrapped his arms around him comfortingly. He couldn't find the right words to say. 

     Sehun buried his face in Luhan’s chest and cried for what felt like hours. Luhan sat silently, his hair in a gentle manner. Something shifted in his eyes. His pure, doe eyes looked darker, they flashed anger, hatred.

     “I’ll protect you,” Luhan murmured lowly in a daunting voice in an attempt to stop his tears, “I’ll make you happy again. I promise I will.”

     The next couple hours, Luhan did everything in his power to make Sehun happier.

     Luhan had taken Sehun to his favorite Chinese restaurant, one that reminded him of his old home, and fed him a bowl of wonton soup. Thankfully, no one found it too strange for two kids to be eating at a table by themselves, not that Luhan would’ve taken no for an answer.

     Luhan also decided to buy Sehun new clothes. Colder weather had been drawing near for quite a while, and it pained Luhan to see Sehun trying his best to curl himself up in the thin sweater he wore everyday. He bought him a brown fall jacket and a chunky red knitted scarf. Sehun loved both of them to death.

     By the time they were finished, Sehun was dressed up in the biggest smile Luhan had ever seen. Sehun was holding a bag of sweets in one hand and Luhan’s hand in the other, and swung their arms back and forth as they walked home, babbling on about nothing and everything at the same time, so caught up with his talking he hardly noticed Luhan’s blank expressions.

     When they finally reached the doors to Sehun’s house, Luhan immediately dropped his hand and brushed past him, walking up the stairs of his porch. He pushed open the door in one smooth movement and walked inside.

     Sehun stood there in shock with his mouth agape for a couple of moments before rushing after him in a blind panic, “Luhan, what are you doing? My dad’s in here," he whispered urgently, knowing what would happen if his father saw him. Would he hurt Luhan too?

     Luhan was quick to brush off his worried mumbles and continued making his way inside of the house. He glanced up to see his father asleep on the couch he was always glued to, facing an old TV, and a half empty bottle of whatever alcoholic drink he could get his hands on standing within grip. Looking satisfied with his findings, Luhan scurried over and grabbed the bottle, Sehun tensely walking up behind him.

     “Sehun, close your eyes, okay?” Luhan said, sweetness still lingering in his voice. He raised the bottle over his head and smashed it onto the floor, shards of glass scattering everywhere.

     Sehun let out a cry as his father’s red bloodshot eyes set his gaze down at Luhan. He couldn’t breathe; all the air in his lungs escaped him when his father sluggishly tried to rise up from his seat. He couldn’t see how well the long glass shard Luhan fiddled loosely in his palm matched with his big, blank eyes.

     “Eyes closed Sehun-ah,” Luhan reminded him.

     Sehun covered his eyes. The only things he heard was a horrible ripping noise, distraught cries and the Luhan’s heavy, labored breathing.

     When he opened his eyes again, all he could see was red. It was everywhere. It covered Luhan’s hands, the broken glass shards, and his father. There was so much blood on his father, long thick lines of it around his neck, dripping down his shirt. Before he could see anymore, Luhan turned his head towards his with both hands on his cheeks, and let out a small smile.

     Sehun trembled. “Luhan, w-what happened?" 

     “Shh, Sehun, it’s okay now,” Luhan cooed, rubbing their noses together, “Now, you can be happy. We can be happy together.”

     Sehun didn’t understand what he meant, and he couldn’t understand why there was so much red, or anything that was happening, but he trusted Luhan, and trusted that his words were right. He slowly nodded his head.

     Luhan took him to the washroom, and they both cleaned themselves, before making their way to Luhan’s house, where Luhan told him they would be safer. 

     They walked in hand in hand over to Luhan's house, getting more tired with every step they took, and found Luhan’s dad on the phone in a panic at the front door. Ignoring his dad's distressed yells and concerned questions, Luhan happily introduced their new guest as, ‘Sehun, his angel.' 

     Sehun looked up at Luhan’s dad. He was thin and tall with pretty hair like Luhan’s, but with deep-set eyes that reminded him of his father’s. He shied away behind Luhan meeting him.

     “Where are your parents?” Luhan’s dad asked Sehun concerned. Sehun did nothing but rub his eyes in a tired state and shrug a little, mumbling something too quietly to be heard by anyone but Luhan. Sighing, his father sent them both to their beds, and continued his phone call with the police.

     “Your mother will come back for you,” Luhan mumbled as they both began to doze off. They were curled up in his bed, Sehun’s head gently pressed against Luhan’s chest, and the both of them struggling to keep their eyes opened. Sehun hummed a little response, eyes finally shutting closed.

     That night, Sehun had a dream. He was sitting on his father’s old couch but in a brand new house. His mother was in the kitchen, beside a her brand new husband and they were both cooking together. He could smell the sweet fragrances of the sweets she was baking, and hear her laughter echoing through the kitchen walls. Luhan, as he hoped, was also in hsi dream. He was sitting beside him comfortably, planting warm kisses on his cheek and humming a bittersweet tune. Sehun’s father was in the dream too. He lay motionless at their feet, covered head to toe in glass shards, bruises and deep, bleeding wounds.

     Sehun smiled plesantly in his sleep. 

     Sehun grew to learn that Luhan’s words were always right.

     The next morning, Sehun woke up to a commotion coming from downstairs. He nudged Luhan awake and the two of them carefully down crept down the stairs, onlt to see a tired looking woman standing wearily at the front door, surrounded by police officers asking her multiple questions. Sehun blinked twice before realizing who it was.

     “M-Mom?” Sehun called out to her, and the woman lifted her head.

     Sehun’s mother ran over to him happily, scooping him up in her arms and holding him tightly like she used to do when he was younger. She looked afraid to let him go.

     “Sehun! My poor baby Sehun. I was so worried! I came home, and saw you weren’t there, I-I …” She let her sentence trail off as she broke down into another fit of tears, squeezing him tighter and tighter. Luhan’s dad soothingly rubbed her back and Luhan looked up at the both of them in awe.

     Sehun had never felt more at home in his mother’s arms. Nothing else seemed to matter anymore. He didn’t care about all the times he had been lonely, or all of his bruises; he erased every single bad memory from his mind. All that mattered was that he was where he belonged, back with his mother, and Luhan smiling at his side.

     Sehun had only been to one funeral in his life, it was for an old relative he never really knew. The thought of funerals usually scared him, but today, he would be brave.

     The day wasn’t very suitable for a funeral. The weather was drastically warmer than what if had been the entire month, and there was a warm breeze that blew at the dead leaves and baron ground.

     For the entire funeral, he stuck to his mother’s side, in front of the rest of his family laced in black. He heard them whispering behind his mother’s back, something about ‘suicide’ and ‘murder’, but they didn’t interest him. He had other things on his mind, namely, how much he wanted Luhan to be there with him.

     The funeral soon ended, and the family went out to visit the grave. At the gravestone lay scattered bouquets. Sehun held his own in his hands, looking down at it expressionlessly. When all backs were turned, he sighed and let out a huge grin, tossing the flowers haphazardly onto his father’s grave.

     He understood what happiness was now. It wasn’t just a state of mind he needed to change; it was the people he surrounded himself with. Luhan made him happy. His mother made him happy. His father’s corpse made him happy.

     He was truly happy.

     With tiny rugged breaths, Sehun nervously held onto the ends of his mother’s long skirt, waiting for the doors to be answered. They stood in front of what would be their new house. It was a lot bigger than his old one, and looks comfortable to be his new house, but that wasn’t what was making him nervous. With his new house came a new dad.

     He wasn’t ready to meet his new dad, because what would happen if he was like his old one? He quickly shook the thoughts out of his head, because now, he had Luhan. If he knew anything, he knew that no matter what, Luhan would be waiting for him. Luhan was his source of happiness.

     “Sehun,” his mother called out to him with a serious tone, “I want you to remember that your new father has his own child. I don’t want any fighting, okay? You have to get along.”

     Sehun nodded in response, and swallowed thickly as the door to the house opened up.

    Sehun’s mother greeted the man standing at the doorstep with a huge hug, but Sehun was too distracted. Standing across from him, a doe eyed boy stood clutching his father’s shorts.

    His nervous expression loosened into a smile and he sweetly spoke to him. “Sehun, welcome home.”

----

a/n: 

Thanks to HappyPistachio for being my editor! I hope this is a good beginning... (●´艸｀)ヾ