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Chapter Text

Minho couldn’t take his eyes off Chan.

At first glance, you’d never know something was wrong. The older was seated at the table like the others, a soft smile playing on his lips whenever Felix giggled or babbled. But Minho knew him too well. He saw the tremor in his fingers where they gripped his knees. The way he kept blinking like he was trying to stop tears from forming. The fact that he hadn’t touched a single bite of the pancakes Changbin had gotten for the rest of the group.

Chan looked like he was barely holding himself together.

Minho let it go for a few minutes more, hoping Chan might speak up, might break the silence himself. But when Felix clambered onto Hyunjin’s lap and Chan subtle flinched—just the barest twitch—Minho had seen enough.

He stood, walked behind Chan, and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. His thumb moved in small, soothing circles against the soft fabric of Chan’s hoodie.

“Hyung,” Minho murmured, voice quiet enough not to draw the others’ attention. “Come outside with me for a second?”

Chan looked up, eyes glassy. He nodded without speaking, standing slowly as if every part of him ached. Minho guided him to the halfway just outside the suite, closing the door gently behind them.

Silence stretched between them. The quiet was thick, not peaceful, but heavy, like it pressed on their lungs.

Chan leaned against the wall, his head falling back with a soft thud. He stared up at the ceiling like maybe if he stared long enough, he’d find the answers he was looking for in the plaster.

Minho didn’t speak. He waited.

“I don’t know what to do,” Chan said finally, his voice raw, barely more than a whisper. “I–I think I’m breaking.”

Minho turned toward him, his brows pulling together in concern. “Talk to me.”

Chan’s jaw clenched. He sucked in a shaky breath and exhaled through his nose. “He’s been getting worse for weeks. Maybe months. He hasn’t been eating properly. He couldn’t sleep. His back’s been bad again. Some nights…” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat, rubbed at his eyes roughly with the heel of his hand. “Some nights, I had to carry him to teh hospital at three in the morning because he couldn’t stop crying. He couldn’t walk. I had to beg the ER nurse to let us in without causing a scene.”

Minho’s breath caught.

“I told the managers. I told them he was in pain. I said he was needed a break. We all do. But they kept saying it was more important for him to push through it. That he was gaining momentum. That this was his moment.” Chan laughed, bitter and hollow. “They cared more about his brand than his body.”

The silence that followed was sharp. Thick with guilt.

“I didn’t fight hard enough,” Chan whispered, voice trembling. “And now..” he gestured back toward the door. “Now he’s three. He doesn’t know who I am. He calls me ‘Chwis’ and thinks I’m a stranger with a funny voice.”

Minho’s heart broke for him.

Chan collapsed on the bench beside the wall, burying his face in his hands. “I’m his boyfriend. I’m supposed to protect him. I’m supposed to—” His breath hitched. “But now I can’t even hold his hand without feeling like I’m doing something wrong. And I can’t help him. I can’t fix this.”

Minho sat beside him slowly, shoulder brushing his.

“You are helping him,” Minho said softly. “You’re here. You haven’t left. You’re still protecting him—just in a different way now.”

Chan didn’t answer.

“I know this hurts, hyung. I know this must feel… impossible. But you haven’t lost him. He’s still Yongbok.”

“He’s not—” Chan stopped himself, then swallowed. “He’s not my Felix. Not right now.”

Minho nodded, slowly. “No. Right now, he’s just a scared, sweet little kid. And he needs you. Not as a boyfriend. Not even as chan. Just as someone who’ll keep him safe and warm and laughing.”

Chan turned his face toward him. His eyes were red-rimmed, his cheeks flushed with shame. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

Minho gave him a soft, sad smile. “Yes, you can. Because you love him. And love doesn’t disappear just because things get hard or weird or scary. It adapts.”

Chan bit down on his bottom lip to keep it from trembling.

“You’re still his person, Chan-hyung. He just needs a different kind of love right now. That’s all. You don’t have to know exactly what to do. You just have to be there. You already are.”

Chan took a deep breath. A deep one this time. Let it out slowly, like maybe some of the weight left with it.

Minho stood and extended a hand. “Come on. Before Jeongin-ah lets him eat crayons.”

That startled a weak laugh out of Chan. He took Minho’s hand, and together, they walked back to the suite.

When Minho opened the door, Felix had a pillow tied around his waist with a phone charger and was pretending to be a dinosaur, roaring softly as he “chomped” on Han’s leg while Changbin helped him growl louder.

Chan blinked at the sight. His lip trembled.

“Chwis!!” Felix spotted him and lit up instantly, flinging the pillow aside and stumbling toward him, arms outstretched.

Chan’s knees nearly gave out, but he caught the little boy easily, scooping him up with practiced hands and tucking him close.

Felix nuzzled into his neck with a sleepy, happy sound. “Smell nice,” he mumbled. “Like ‘nilla…”

Chan shut his eyes and held him tighter.

Minho watched the two of them quietly, heart full and whispered to himself, You didn’t lose him. He’s still yours. You just have to wait for him to find you again.

Felix was still curled in Chan’s lap, sleepily playing with the strings on his oversized hoodie when the knock came at the door.

Minho’s eyes narrowed. He stood, brushing invisible lint from his pants before stepping forward. Seungmin rose beside him as the door opened, and immediately, the atmosphere shifted.

Three managers stepped in, their expressions tense, their voices sharp with panic before they even looked at anyone.

“What the hell happened?” one snapped, eyes immediately scanning the room.

“Why weren’t we told right away?”

“Do you know what this means for our schedules?”

Their raised voices startled Felix. The boy flinched in Chan’s lap, his small fingers tightening in the fabric of Chan’s shirt as his lower lip began to tremble.

Chan instinctively pulled him closer. “Hey, hey it’s okay—” he whispered, but the fear was already blooming behind Felix’s eyes.

A manager’s voice barked out, “We have press appointments this week, brand campaigns—he was booked every day–”

Felix whimpered, small arms clinging to Chan’s neck as he tried to tuck himself beneath his boyfriend’s chin. “Too loud,” he sobbed, barely audible.

“Stop it,” Chan growled, voice trembling as he tried to keep calm. “You’re scaring him—”

“We should be scared!” anotehr manager snapped. “Do you even know what this looks like? If he’s seriously sick, or if someone talks—”

“I said stop.”Chan stood, his arms cradling Felix protectively. “Get out. You’re scaring him!”

But his raised voice cracked at the end—and that was all it took.

Felix burst into tears.

He cried like only a toddler could, full-bodied and overwhelmed, his hands flying to cover his ears as he wailed. “No yelling! No yelling!” he sobbed, curling into himself.

Chan froze, his face horrified as guilt punched through his chest. “Lixie—no, no, I didn’t mean to—”

“Give him to me,” Minho said quickly, crossing the room and gently prying Felix from Chan’s arms. Felix clung for a second, but Minho whispered soft, soothing reassurances—and Felix let himself be passed off, hiccupping and shaking.

“Jeongin-ah,” Minho called. “Take him. Distract him, please.”

Joengin stepped up instantly, his arms open and steady. “Hey, little Lixie,” he cooed, already rocking Felix gently as he took him. “Wanna see the toys again? Remember the dino?”

As they stepped into the next room, Miho turned, sharp-eyed and furious. “He’s three,” he snapped at the managers. “And all he knows is that strangers came in yelling and scared him.”

“We’re not strangers—”

“You are to him.” Minho’s voice was steel.

“We don’t have time for this,” the lead manager spat. “We’ll hire a sitter—he can’t miss the comeback—”

The man was striding toward the back of the room where Jeongin and Felix had gone to play when Jeongin’s voice rang out.

“Don’t touch him.”

The manager froze. Jeongin stood like a wall, one arm behind him where Felix was peeking out. “You’re not going near him,” he said, voice trembling with fury.

“You’re just the maknae—”

“I’m his hyung.”

The manager stepped forward anyway—only for Jeongin to shove him back, palms to chest. “I said don’t touch him.”

Felix yelped behind him, clinging to Jeongin’s legs.

Minho’s heart swelled with something close to awe as Changbin stormed forward next, stepping between them.

“We’re not talking to you anymore,” Changbin said darkly. “We’ll speak to PD-nim directly. You clearly can’t handle this professionally.”

The silence that followed was thick and uncomfortable. Without another word, the managers turned and stormed out.

Minho exhaled, the air rattling in his chest. He crossed the room and knelt beside Jeongin, gently scoping Felix from where he’d been clinging to the maknae.

“It’s okay,” Minho whispered. “They’re gone.”

Felix sniffled, wiping at his face with his sleeve. “They were scary.”

“I know,” Minho murmured. “But you’re safe now. We won’t let anyone hurt you.”

From behind him, he heard Suengmin begin softly humming a lullaby—and soon, the tension in Felix’s body began to melt. The others circled in, offering quiet reassurances and soft touches, falling into their roles as protectors with the kind of love only family can offer.

It was only a few minutes lter when Chan’s phone rang. He answered with a clenched jaw, but his expression softened as he listened.

He hung up, turning to the others. “We’ve been called to PD-nim’s office. All of us.”

-

The elevator ride to the top floor was tense and silent. Felix was back in Chan’s arms, small fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt as he sleepily rested his head against the older’s shoulder. None of them said a word, there was too much hanging in the air. Chan’s jaw was tight, Minho’s eyes were distant, and everyone else just focused on keeping Felix calm.

When they reached JYP’s office, the secretary quickly ushered them inside, her gaze flicking with curiosity to the small child Chan carried. But she didn’t ask questions, she didn’t need to.

JYP was already standing when they entered, his eyes widening slightly at the sight of Felix. He approached slowly, crouching down to Felix’s level without hesitation. His voice was soft, gently in a way none of them expected.

“Hey, Felix,” he said with a smile. “You feeling okay?”

Felix blinked at him sleepily, a bit wary but not scared. “Tummy hurts a lil,” he mumbled in English, eyes fluttering as he cuddled closer to Chan.

JYP nodded, not missing a beat. “That’s okay. You’ve had a big day, huh?” H ereached into a drawer and pulled out a small toy car and a stuffed fox. “Wanna play with these while we talk?”

Felix’s eyes lit up faintly at the sight, his tiny hands reaching out to grab the fox. He clutched it to his chest as Chan lowered him into a small couch in the corner of the room. JYP set the toy car beside him and ruffled his hir once before standing up to face the boys.

“He’s even smaller than I imagined,” he said quietly. “I got the call, but seeing it in person…”

“We need to talk,” Minho cut in, voice strained. “Not just about now. About what happens when he comes back.”

JYP raised a brow. “Of course. We were thinking a short hiatus—at least until Felix is back to normal. We can work around—”

“No,” Minho said sharply. Everyone turned to look at him. “Not short. Not just until he’s an adult. He needs real time off. A real break. Even after this ends.”

JYP looked between them. “I understand your concern, but—”

“Do you?” Minho asked, stepping forward. “Because I’ve found him crying and sleeping in dance studios. He can’t sleep. He hasn’t had a real break in years. His back is always in pain, and no matter how many times we say something, its brushed aside. This didn’t just happen overnight. He didn’t just wake up like this because he was tired. His body gave up. That’s what this is.”

The room was quiet. Even JYP didn’t respond right away. The others shifted uncomfortably, letting Minho speak. His voice was thick, every word weighed down by fear and helplessness.

“We’re not asking,” Chan added quietly, but firmly. “We’re telling you. We won’t let him be pushed like this again.”

Just then, a soft voice called out.

“Min…Min’yoh…”

Minho’s heart stopped. He whipped around toward the corner where Felix sat—except he wasn’t sitting anymore.

Felix was swaying where he stood, his toy fox clutched in one hand, the other reaching out weakly. His skin was pale, and sweat had begun to bed along his forehead and temple. His eyes were unfocused, lips trembling.

“I…I no feel good,” he whimpered, and then he began to cry, a high, panicked sound that tore through the room.

“Felix!” Chan was there in an instant, catching him just as the toddler’s knees buckled. He cradled the small body, panicking. “It’s okay, I’ve got you—Felix, baby, stay with me!”

“Get the medics!” Hyunjin shouted, bolting for the door. “Now!”

Felix whimpered weakly, his head lolling against Chan’s shoulder as the older gently patted his back, murmuring soothing words through a choked voice.

The room descended into chaos. Security burst in, escorting the boys back as medical staff rushed in, taking Felix from Chan’s arms as he hesitated, not wanting to let og. But they had to. He needed help.

The second Felix was out of sight, Minho collapsed into one of the chairs by the wall, hands shaking violently. His breathing was unsteady, and he barely noticed Han kneeling beside him until he felt a warm hand on his shoulder.

“I–I didn’t know wha tto do,” Minho whispered, eyes burning. “He looked at me and—he’s just a baby, Hannie. He’s just a baby and I couldn’t do anything.”

Han said nothing. He just pulled Minho into a tight hug, holding him close as Minho finally let go—shaking, crying, overwhelmed. Every bit of fear and guilt came pouring out in raged breaths and desperate sobs, muffled into the crook of Han’s neck.

Across the room, Chan stood frozen, staring at teh closer door the medics has disappeared through. His hands still trembled, and he kept whispering Felix’s name liek a prayer.

Then, the door opened again.

The doctor stepped out, expression unreadable as all heads turned toward her. The doctor stepped forward with an exhausted but soft expression on her face. Every member of the group turned at once, their breath collectively held.

“He’s okay,” she said gently. “Vitals have stabilized. We gave him fluids and something mild for the pain. But—”

But her words were swallowed by chaos. Shouting erupted from farther down the corridor, footsteps pounding against the floor.

“He ran out of the room!”

“We tried to stop him!”

The boys turned in unison. Chan took off first, rounding the corner, with Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jeongin right behind. Minho's stomach twisted into a knot as he grabbed one of the stunned medics by the sleeve.

“Who ran? What are you talking about?” he demanded.

“Felix!” the medic stammered. “He just woke up and bolted. We didn’t realize—he looked different—we thought someone else’s kid—”

“He’s a toddler!” Changbin growled, face flushed with disbelief. “How could you not stop him?!”

“No,” the doctor interrupted, catching up to them again, breathless but urgent. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. Felix… he’s not a toddler anymore. He—he aged again.”

Everything went still.

Minho felt the air knock from his lungs. “What do you mean aged again?”

The doctor nodded grimly. “From what we saw, he looks around seven years old now. It happened almost instantly—he started crying, and then his whole body tensed, and it was like—like watching time fast forward in real time. We didn’t have time to react before he jumped off the bed and ran.”

A long moment passed as her words sunk in.

Then Chan barked, “Split up! Now! Tell security—no children leave the building. Go, now!”

They scattered.

Minho and Hyunjin headed toward the lower levels, Minho’s mind racing, panic settling like a lead weight in his chest. He could hardly imagine what Felix might be going through—waking up alone in a strange place, older, unfamiliar, scared. Every part of him buzzed with adrenaline and dread.

Then—raised voices. Sharp. Frustrated. The low hum of walkie-talkies and echoing footsteps.

They rounded a corner and saw it.

Security guards stood near the cafeteria, some of them looking baffled, others visibly stressed. In their center, small and trembling but loud as ever, was a furious little boy.

Felix.

Minho’s breath caught in his throat.

The child looked so different from the toddler they’d been holding only an hour ago—taller now, his features more defined, but still unmistakably him. He was red in the face, tears spilling freely as he screamed at the adults surrounding him.

“Leave me alone!” he sobbed. “I don’t know you! Stop touching me! I want my mom! I want my sisters!”

One of the security guards tried to reach for him, but Felix jerked away violently, backing toward a corner. “No! Don’t—don’t come near me!”

Minho didn’t hesitate. He shoved through the guards, his voice coming out hoarse and urgent.

“Felix—hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here now. You’re safe.”

The boy froze, wild eyes flicking up to meet Minho’s. He looked disoriented, frightened, but something shifted in his expression. Confusion gave way to hesitation.

Then—softly, like the memory had surfaced from the fog—he whispered, “...Minho?”

Minho’s heart stuttered.

“Yeah,” he said, kneeling. His hands were open, his voice gentler than he knew it could be. “It’s me. I’ve got you.”

Felix’s lip trembled. His small body shook from head to toe. Then he ran straight into Minho’s chest.

Minho caught him easily, arms wrapping tight around the boy’s quivering frame. Felix’s fingers fisted in the fabric of Minho’s shirt as he buried his face into his shoulder, crying in full now.

“I—I was so scared,” Felix gasped, hiccuping through sobs. “Everything’s weird and I—I don’t remember stuff and they were yelling and—”

Minho cradled him, rocking them slightly, pressing his cheek against Felix’s hair. “I know, I know, Bbokie. I’m so sorry. You’re okay now. I promise, you’re safe.”

Hyunjin dropped to his knees beside them, brushing Felix’s hair gently out of his face, voice choked with emotion. “We’ve got you now, angel. You’re okay.”

The security guards quietly backed away, shame and confusion clear on their faces.

Minho ignored them.

All that mattered was the little boy trembling in his arms. Older, but still lost—still needing them, and Minho would give him the world if it meant keeping him safe.

-

The door to the suite swung open and all heads turned toward it—Jeongin, Seungmin, Changbin, Han, and Chan springing to their feet at the sound. Minho stepped in slowly, his arms cradling a much taller, slightly lankier version of Felix than they’d last seen. Felix’s legs dangled past Minho’s hip now, his features a little more defined but still delicate, hair tousled from all the chaos.

He looked around with curious eyes, the soft brown of them wide and bright, like sunlight caught in molasses. The freckles across his nose and cheeks had bloomed just a little more.

“Hi…” he said softly, voice still light but more sure now, tinged with a careful politeness that melted the room.

Jeongin made a noise that sounded like he might cry. “He’s… he’s so cute still,” he whispered like it physically pained him.

“Still?” Felix asked, confused.

“No, nothing, you’re just—you’re adorable,” Han choked, hands pressed to his face. Changbin nodded mutely beside him, slack-jawed.

Felix looked around at them all, brows furrowed. “Do I know you? I think I do. But I don’t ‘member much. Just… your names. You’re Minho.” He pointed to Minho’s chest with certainty, then looked at the others. “And you’re…” he blinked hard, “…Hyunjin? Jeongin? Binnie? Chan? Seungmin? Han?”

Every name he got right made their hearts collectively ache.

“I don’t remember what we did,” Felix added softly, “but I remember I liked you.”

That was all it took. Chan turned around with a hand over his mouth, shoulders trembling. Jeongin sniffled. Han reached out, then pulled his hands back like touching Felix might make him vanish.

“You liked us?” Hyunjin asked gently, crouching so they were at eye level.

Felix nodded, kicking his socked feet slightly. “Yeah. You made me happy.”

Minho exhaled shakily, eyes glossing a bit. He gently set Felix down and patted his head.

“Okay, now I love him again,” Han said with an emotional wheeze.

“Like you ever stopped,” Jeongin muttered, wiping his eyes with his sleeve.

Felix tugged at the hem of his oversized hoodie—still hilariously too big, brushing his knees. His eyes lifted, landing on Hyunjin’s face, narrowing a bit with curiosity.

“Your ears are shiny,” he said suddenly, pointing.

Hyunjin blinked, then grinned. “You like them?”

“They sparkle,” Felix whispered reverently. “Can I… touch?”

Hyunjin laughed, leaning in and letting Felix poke curiously at one of the hoops. “You’ve got good taste.”

Felix smiled wide, and Minho, knowing exactly where this was going, stood and stretched. “Okay, I know that look,” he muttered. “Hyunjin-ah, don’t you dare—”

“Too late!” Hyunjin beamed. “Come on, Lixie. Let’s go to the salon!”

Felix lit up like a lantern. “Salon?! I get shiny ears?!”

Hyunjin gasped, feigning scandal. “Not yet! We gotta work our way up. But I can give you glitter gel, fancy clips, and the best hair styling of your life.”

Felix squealed in delight. “Yes! Yes please!”

“Hyunjin-ah,” Chan warned, voice still hoarse with emotion. “Don’t glitter bomb his whole head.”

“No promises!” Hyunjin called, already leading Felix toward the bathroom-turned-beauty-parlor, Felix bouncing along behind him in socks that were too big.

Minho groaned behind them, muttering something about chaos and glitter, but Hyunjin was already leading Felix down the hallway, straight toward the spare bathroom that had become his unofficial beauty nook.

The others followed behind like shadows, helpless to resist the pull of Felix’s sunshine.

Inside, Hyunjin gently sat Felix down on a little ottoman cushion by the sink, kneeling in front of him to meet his eyes. Felix was bouncing a little, his hands folded in his lap, watching Hyunjin’s every movement like a little bird waiting to be fed.

“Okay,” Hyunjin said with a flourish, dragging out his supply basket from under the counter. “Welcome to the Hyunjin Hair Salon. Where all your dreams come true.”

Felix gasped and clasped his hands under his chin. “Really?!”

“Really,” Hyunjin grinned. “First, we’re going to brush your hair. Then I’ll show you the glitter gel. And then, if you’re really brave…”

Felix leaned in, whispering dramatically, “What?”

“We might even use… the rainbow clip.”

Felix’s entire face lit up, cheeks puffing with joy. “The rainbow?! That’s my favorite color!”

Hyunjin chuckled, his throat aching from the sheer force of how much he adored this version of Felix. He turned the little boy around so his back was to him, then gathered the red-brown strands in his hands. It was soft, impossibly so, and the familiar scent of Felix’s shampoo made his chest ache.

“I used to do this all the time,” Hyunjin murmured more to himself than anyone else.

He took his time brushing through the strands, gentle and deliberate, mindful of any knots. Felix hummed under his touch, tipping his head slightly into the motions like a kitten being groomed.

“You’re really good at this,” Felix said with a dreamy little sigh.

Hyunjin paused for a second, blinking quickly. “Thank you, Lixie. That means a lot.”

“Mom and Rachel brush my hair like this,” Felix added, his voice soft. “I like when you do it too.”

Hyunjin swallowed hard and nodded, silently vowing to memorize every second of this.

Once the tangles were gone, he reached for his signature glitter gel—a little pot with flecks of pastel shimmer—and dabbed a tiny amount onto his fingers. “Okay, I’m gonna use a little magic now. Hold very still.”

Felix giggled. “Like a statue!”

“Exactly.”

He slicked back the front just slightly, enough to make it sparkle in the light, then gently twisted two small sections on either side of Felix’s face, clipping them back with two shimmering clips—one shaped like a star, the other a tiny rainbow.

“You look perfect,” Hyunjin whispered, tilting Felix’s chin gently to admire his work.

Felix’s smile was hesitant, bashful. “I do?”

Hyunjin nodded. “Better than perfect. You’re a masterpiece.”

Behind them, the other boys were melting into puddles, all of them watching with glossy eyes and aching hearts.
Felix fidgeted for a moment before turning back to face Hyunjin fully. “Can I do your hair now?”

Hyunjin blinked. “My hair?”

Felix nodded seriously. “So you can be pretty too.”

There was a long beat of silence before Hyunjin started laughing, low and genuine. He tilted his head, offering Felix the comb. “You think I’m not pretty already?”

Felix tapped his lips with one finger. “Hmm. You’re almost as pretty as me.”

The room howled with laughter, Jeongin falling against Minho’s shoulder. Han had to sit down.

Hyunjin clutched his chest, grinning. “You wound me, Lix-ah. Alright. Make me prettier.”

Felix stood on his tiptoes, pulling Hyunjin down a little and carefully placing the remaining rainbow clip just off-center on the short hair that had grown.. “Now we match.”

Hyunjin looked at their reflections in the mirror. Two faces side by side—one older and glitter-dusted, the other still round and cherub-like, grinning with pride.

It struck him again, hard, how temporary this might be. He turned and hugged Felix tight.

“Thanks, Lixie,” he whispered.

“You’re welcome, Jinjin.”

Minho peeked into the doorway, watching them, heart full. It was like watching the sun learning how to shine again, one ray at a time.

Felix tugged on Hyunjin’s sleeve as he admired their matching hair clips in the mirror. “Um… Jinjin?”

Hyunjin looked down, still smiling at the rainbow glint in Felix’s hair. “Yes, angel?”

“I’m hungry,” Felix whispered dramatically, as though revealing a tragic secret. He patted his belly for emphasis. “It’s growling.”

From the hallway, Changbin’s ears perked up. “Did someone say hungry?”

Felix’s eyes lit up and he spun around. “Binnie!! I’m starving. I didn’t eat lunch or snack or… or anything!”

Chan gently touched his back. “Hey, hey, we can fix that. You wanna go home and cook something yummy?”

Felix nodded so fast his hair bounced. “Yuh-huh! Can Binnie cook?! Please?! Binnie’s the best cooker!”

Changbin puffed his chest proudly. “Chef Binnie is reporting for duty.”

Seungmin chuckled. “God help us.”

Back at the apartment, it was a bit of chaos to get the door open with a clingy seven-year-old glued to Hyunjin’s side and six other boys all hovering with protective instincts. Once inside, shoes were kicked off, jackets slung over chairs, and Felix made a beeline for the kitchen—only to freeze and turn back around.

“Wait!” he gasped, “I gotta wash my hands! Binnie said no dirty hands in his kitchen!”

Changbin gave him a thumbs-up. “That’s right, little chef. Go scrub, then report for duty.”

Felix rushed to the bathroom, calling over his shoulder, “Yes, Chef!!”

The boys laughed as he darted away, and Changbin rolled up his sleeves like he was about to compete on Iron Chef.

By the time Felix returned, hands damp and shirt sleeves a little soaked from the sink, Changbin had already laid out ingredients across the counter—eggs, rice, scallions, sesame oil, leftover bulgogi, and various seasonings. A cozy, comforting fried rice was on the menu, easy and filling, with just enough flash to impress their miniature guest of honor.

“Okay,” Changbin said, clapping his hands. “You ready, Assistant Chef Felix?”

Felix saluted. “Ready, Chef Binnie, sir!”

Hyunjin melted into the couch, clutching a cushion to his chest.

Changbin handed Felix a small mixing bowl and pointed to the already cracked eggs. “Can you stir those for me? Gently, okay? Like you’re waking them up, not fighting them.”

Felix giggled and nodded, carefully taking the whisk in both hands. “I can do it. I’m strong!”

“Yes, you are,” Minho murmured fondly from the doorway, watching the two of them.

Changbin moved around the kitchen like a whirlwind of skill, but never once did he rush Felix. He talked him through each step. “Wanna sprinkle the salt? Not too much… there ya go. And now we add in the secret ingredient.”

Felix gasped. “What’s the secret?”

Changbin leaned down and whispered, “Love.”

Felix blinked at him. “That’s not food.”

The room roared with laughter. Seungmin cracked a loud snort as he watched from the counter.

Changbin grinned. “Yeah, well, you’re the love, so I guess we already added it.”

Felix beamed at that, cheeks pink.

Together, they stirred the ingredients in the wok, the smell of sizzling garlic and sesame oil filling the air. Felix stood on a little step stool Jeongin had pulled from the closet, and wore an oversized apron that trailed behind him like a cape. With each stir, he made little sound effects: “Pshhh! Chhh! Pow!”

As they worked, Felix paused, looking up at Changbin with a big grin. “Food is my favorite thing! I love eating. It makes me so happy.”

Changbin’s hands froze for half a second. His heart squeezed painfully in his chest. The memories of Felix back in his adult form—skipping meals, counting calories too obsessively, refusing midnight snacks because of upcoming photoshoots—came rushing in like a wave. All the times Changbin had begged him to eat, and Felix had just smiled and said he couldn’t, not yet. Not until he was done being whatever the world wanted him to be.

But now, here he was, seven years old, with round cheeks and bright eyes, proclaiming that eating made him happy. There was no guilt in his voice, no fear in his smile. Just joy.

Changbin swallowed thickly, trying not to let the sudden emotion show. “Yeah?” he managed softly.

Felix nodded fiercely. “Uh-huh. It’s yummy and it makes my tummy warm. And your cooking’s the yummiest.”

Before Changbin could respond, Felix added, “Also! When I grow up, I’m gonna open a food truck! But it’s only for puppies and bunnies.”

That did it. Changbin let out a teary laugh and ruffled the boy’s hair. “That’s the best plan I’ve ever heard, aegi.”

By the time the food was done, it was like heaven in a pan.

Felix clapped his hands as Changbin plated it. “Chef Binnie! It looks so good!”

“Course it does,” Changbin winked, setting the plate on the table. “And it’s all thanks to you, little helper.”

They all sat around the table, passing dishes, laughter spilling across the room like warm light. Felix sat between Minho and Chan, tiny legs swinging under his chair as he shoveled spoonfuls of food into his mouth with pure delight.

“Mmmmmm,” he moaned, cheeks full. “I’m gonna eat all of it!”

Chan ruffled his hair. “Good. You need it, bug.”

Felix turned to him, eyes soft and full. “You’re nice, Chris.”

Chan blinked hard, swallowing the lump in his throat. “So are you, Lix.”

As dinner went on, the apartment filled with the hum of stories, jokes, and the clicking of spoons against plates. It felt almost normal. Just a group of boys, sharing a meal. Except one of them was seven years old, laughing and smearing a bit of soy sauce across his cheek, still too small to understand how much everyone around him had ached to make sure he was okay.

Felix was still nibbling on some rice when a warm hand gently tapped his shoulder. He turned his head, crumbs still clinging to the corner of his mouth, to find Jeongin crouched beside him with a conspiratorial glint in his eyes.

"Agent Bokkie," Jeongin whispered, dramatically glancing side to side. "You’re needed for a mission."

Felix blinked at him. “A… mishun?”

“A super secret spy mission,” Jeongin confirmed in a hushed tone. “Only for the best agents. Are you in?”

Felix’s eyes widened, lighting up like stars. He scrambled out of his seat with such speed that the others barely had time to react. His oversized hoodie swished behind him like a cape, and his little socked feet pattered eagerly on the floor.

Jeongin handed him a rolled-up napkin tied with a string like a scroll. “This contains all the mission info,” he said seriously, tapping the scroll with one finger. “We believe someone has stolen the sacred snack stash. Intel points to… Minho-hyung.”

Felix gasped so dramatically you’d think he’d just heard a twist ending to a mystery movie. “No! Min-Minho… hyung…?”

Jeongin’s grin stretched. “Hey, that’s right! Hyung. That means ‘older brother.’ You can call all of us that.”

Felix tilted his head, brow furrowed. “Hyung… Like… Jeongin-hyung?”

Jeongin beamed, placing a hand over his heart. “Exactly like that.”

“Jeongin-hyung,” Felix said again, tasting the word slowly like it was something sweet and new. “Hyunjin-hyung. Seungmin-hyung…”

From the kitchen, the boys all turned their heads, warmth rushing through them as they heard the youngest try out their names one by one. Chan’s expression softened, his fingers twitching at his side, as if resisting the urge to pull Felix in and never let go.

Jeongin knelt beside Felix again, whispering, “Let’s go, Agent Bokkie. Operation Cookie Rescue is a go.”

They tiptoed down the hallway in exaggerated slow-motion, ducking behind corners, Felix mimicking Jeongin’s every stealthy move. Every now and then he’d glance back at the kitchen, checking if they were being watched. Once, Minho coughed from the sink and Felix grabbed Jeongin’s hand in alarm. “Enemy spotted,” he whispered urgently.

Jeongin stifled a laugh. “We’ll have to be extra sneaky now.”

They made it to Minho’s room and crept inside like cartoon spies. Jeongin motioned toward the dresser where Minho’s snack stash sat neatly in a little basket. Felix squinted, tiptoeing closer. “Cookies… I see the cookies, hyung!”

He turned, holding up the small pack like it was a trophy. But just as they were about to make their grand escape—
“What do you think you’re doing?” Minho stood in the doorway with his arms crossed, one eyebrow raised, and an amused smirk tugging at his lips.

Felix yelped and clutched the cookies to his chest. “RUN!”

They bolted past Minho, Felix squealing with laughter, Jeongin whooping like a war cry. Minho shook his head, grinning despite himself as he called after them, “If you break anything, I’m hiding the ice cream next!”

Back in the living room, the others looked up to see the two agents tumble onto the couch in a pile of giggles, Felix now breathless but triumphant, the cookies still clutched in his hand.

“We got ‘em,” Jeongin said proudly, brushing hair from Felix’s forehead.

Felix grinned up at him. “Thank you, Jeongin-hyung.”

Jeongin froze, something tender and quiet blooming across his face. It was such a simple word, but hearing it from Felix—spoken with trust, joy, and that sweet little lisp—hit something deep. He ruffled the boy’s hair gently, blinking quickly.
“Anytime, Agent Bokkie.”

Felix twisted, spotting the rest of the boys watching from the kitchen. He smiled bashfully and then raised the pack of cookies. “Wanna share?”

Hyunjin pretended to wipe away a tear. “He’s too powerful…”

Felix giggled and stood, wobbling a bit as he tried to balance the cookie pack. He scampered over and handed a cookie to each of his hyungs, his little hand resting for a moment on Han’s knee as he whispered, “For you, Han-hyung.”

Han accepted it like it was a sacred offering. “Thanks, baby.”

“Not a baby,” Felix pouted.

“You’re right, you’re our super secret spy.”

Felix grinned wide again and dove back onto the couch beside Jeongin, curling into his side with content sigh. “I like being here…”

The words were soft, spoken so easily they almost missed them—but every one of the boys heard; and it made all the chaos, fear, and heartbreak of the past few days feel worth it.

-

It began with a single, exaggerated yawn from Felix, who lay sprawled across Jeongin’s lap in his fuzzy star pajamas, his head heavy and eyes droopy as he kicked his feet softly in the air.

“It’s too bright,” he murmured, voice small and sleepy. “Too bright for sleeps.”

Jeongin gently tapped the tip of Felix’s nose. “Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

That was all the spark Chan needed to push off the armrest where he’d been curled with his phone and suddenly clap his hands together. “We’re building a fort. Right now. Operation Cozy Bokkie is officially underway.”

Felix blinked, then lit up like a sunrise. “A real fort?!”

“With blankets and pillows and lights and snacks,” Seungmin promised as he stood up, stretching.

“Can it have a roof?” Felix asked, voice filled with wonder.

“It’ll have three roofs,” Han said dramatically, already dashing toward the linen closet.

From that moment on, the dorm exploded into movement. Minho, ever the general, began barking orders in his mock-serious voice, pointing from one room to another. “Hyunjin, lights. Jeongin, supplies. Changbin, get the thickest blankets you can find.”

“Yes, sir,” Hyunjin saluted with a grin, already dragging a string of fairy lights out of a drawer.

Felix stood in the middle of the chaos, holding his stuffed dinosaur tightly to his chest, eyes wide with anticipation. He watched his hyungs hurry around him, arms full of cushions and blankets, turning the living room into a magical maze of softness and sparkle. A blanket was draped between two chairs. Cushions were piled up like castle walls. Lights were strung up overhead like glowing stars.

As the final piece of the fort was placed—a patchwork quilt from Felix’s room, stretched wide across the center—Chan ducked inside and looked around. It was warm. Safe. Soft. It was perfect.

“Okay, Lixie,” he said, peeking out with a grin. “Come see your kingdom.”

Felix gasped and crawled forward immediately, giggling as he ducked into the glowing space. “It’s magic!” he squealed, twirling in a slow circle before flopping onto a pillow with a satisfied sigh. “I love it!”

“It’s the most advanced snuggle fortress in all of Korea,” Jeongin added, crawling in behind him.

The others followed, squeezing into the fort one by one. Seungmin brought the snacks: animal crackers, mini rice cakes, fruit slices, and a couple of juice boxes with bendy straws. Hyunjin had even brought a small bluetooth speaker, which now played soft lullaby instrumentals.

Felix snuggled between Chan and Minho, his little body half-laying across Minho’s chest and his legs draped over Chan’s lap. He was a bundle of blanket and golden curls, his cheeks pink from excitement.

“Thank you, Minmin-hyung,” Felix whispered sleepily, resting his cheek against Minho’s hoodie.

Minho melted, pressing a kiss to the top of Felix’s head. “You’re welcome, baby.”

Around them, the older boys relaxed. Han dramatically told a bedtime story about a magical ocelot prince on a quest to find the world’s best pillow. Changbin, not to be outdone, pulled out a stuffed animal and made it dance while making silly voices, which made Felix laugh so hard he snorted.

“Bin-hyung’s so funny,” Felix said in between giggles, leaning against his side.

“He tries,” Seungmin mumbled from behind a juice box, smirking.

The moment was soft and perfect. Felix yawned again, even bigger this time, and curled more tightly into Minho’s side. His little hand gripped the edge of Chan’s sleeve, and when Chan looked down, Felix was smiling faintly with closed eyes.

“You sleepin’, Lixie?” Chan whispered.

A tiny hum was the only answer. Then, slowly: “I love you all.”

That was it. Chan pressed a knuckle to his mouth, eyes misty.

Jeongin reached over and carefully tucked a blanket up to Felix’s chin. “He’s down for the count.”

Minho looked around at the others. No one moved to leave.

One by one, they got comfortable. Han flopped onto his stomach, his arm hanging off a pillow. Hyunjin curled up with his head resting near Felix’s feet. Seungmin claimed a spot beside Jeongin, the two of them whispering jokes until they drifted off. Changbin laid back with his hand resting protectively near Felix’s shoulder, just in case.

And in the center of it all, bathed in the warm golden glow of fairy lights, Felix slept like a star in the sky—peaceful, safe, and completely loved.

The morning light slipped gently through the gaps in the blanket fort, casting soft golden rays across the colorful nest of pillows and sleeping bodies. The air was warm and still, filled with the steady rhythm of slow breathing and the faint scent of fabric softener clinging to oversized pajama shirts. Somewhere near the center of the pile, Felix stirred.

Still dressed in his cozy dinosaur pajamas, his hair was a wild halo of soft waves, and his cheeks were pink from sleep. He blinked a few times, disoriented in the sleepy haze of morning, then stretched his arms above his head with a quiet yawn. He rubbed at his eyes, then absently brought his hand to his mouth—and froze.

His small fingers poked at the front of his gums, and his eyes widened. Something was missing.

“Min…ho hyung?” he mumbled uncertainly, reaching over and shaking Minho’s arm with urgency. “Hyung… somethin’ wrong.”

Minho blinked awake, disoriented, then sat up quickly when he saw the panic in Felix’s eyes. “Bokkie? What’s wrong, baby?”

“My tooth’s gone!” Felix squeaked, suddenly tearing up. “It was there last night, an’ now it’s gone! I didn’t even feel it, an’ now—now the Tooth Fairy won’t come ‘cause I LOST it!”

His voice cracked at the last word, his face crumpling as tears welled in his eyes. His tiny hands flailed in frustration. The noise had already woken most of the others, heads popping out of pillows like gophers.

“Wait, what happened?” Jeongin mumbled, crawling closer.

Felix sat in Minho’s lap now, clinging to his shirt, big watery eyes scanning everyone’s confused faces. “I—my tooth’s gone… and I didn’t keep it safe…”

“Aww, Felix-ah,” Jeongin cooed, instantly wrapping his arms around the little boy and pulling him into a hug. “That just means you're growin’ up. It’s normal. You did nothing wrong.”

“But the fairy!” Felix sniffled, voice trembling. “How’s she gonna find it if I don’t got it?”

Seungmin, rubbing sleep from his eyes, reached over and gently tapped the boy’s nose. “She’s magic, remember? She doesn’t need the tooth. If you leave her a note, she’ll still come. Promise.”

“You promise?” Felix asked, voice still thick but hopeful.

“I super promise.” Jeongin nodded firmly, then glanced toward Chan, who was already digging through a drawer in the room for paper and crayons.

“Okay, we’re gonna write the best Tooth Fairy letter in history,” Chan said, setting the supplies in front of Felix with a little flourish.

With the others crowding around to watch and help, Felix leaned over the paper and carefully wrote—in the loopy scrawl of a seven-year-old—a heartfelt letter:

“Dear Tooth Fairy,
I lost my tooth but I don’t know where it went.
I hope you can still find it.
Love, Felix 💖”

He even drew a picture of himself smiling, a little gap where the tooth had been.

“There,” he whispered when he finished, proud but still looking a little uncertain. Minho hugged him from behind, resting his chin on Felix’s shoulder.

“You did perfect, angel,” he said softly.

Seeing as it was still way too early to be awake, they placed the letter under Felix’s pillow in the fort nestled beside Minho’s, just to be safe. Minho kissed his forehead, and they all quickly fell back asleep.

When morning came again, a shiny gold coin and a sparkly little note from the Tooth Fairy sat beneath Felix’s pillow, glittering in the soft light. Felix let out the happiest gasp, holding it up for everyone to see with sleepy excitement.

“She came!” he cried, practically glowing. “She really came!”

Everyone cheered softly, surrounding him with love and sleepy grins, all of them basking in the warmth of a tiny child’s wonder.

It was just a lost tooth, maybe—but to Felix, and to everyone watching him beam with joy, it felt like something more. A tiny reminder that even in the strangest circumstances, magic could still find its way in.

Now, it was actually time for them to do something with their day.

After brushing out his bedhead and changing him into a cozy hoodie with stars on the sleeves, Minho gave Felix a soft nudge toward the living room where Han was waiting with something magical in his hands—a box of fresh crayons and a thick stack of white paper.

“Okay, Lix-ah,” Han grinned, patting the floor beside him. “You and me, it’s serious art time. I hope you’re ready.”

Felix’s face lit up, gap-toothed and beaming. “I ready, I ready!” he chirped, plopping down beside Han with the energy of a hundred suns. “We gonna draw dragons? I love dragons. They go RAWR!!”

Han chuckled, already laying out the crayons into a rainbow spread. “We can draw dragons, dinosaurs, or even rocket-powered pirate ships. You’re the boss.”

Felix gasped, his eyes shining. “RAWR dinos and pirate ship dragon! I draw you as a dragon, too, Han-hyung.”

The way he said it—Han-hyung—made Han’s heart skip. It was still so new to hear the title from Felix’s small voice, and every time he did, Han felt a little like crying and laughing at once.

“Hey,” Han said softly, nudging him with a crayon. “Did you know you and I are birthday twins?”

Felix tilted his head. “Twins?”

“Yep. Our birthdays are one day apart. So that makes us… dragon twins.”

Felix’s eyes grew huge, and he gasped like he’d just discovered treasure. “We’re twinnies?! Han-hyung is my twinnie?!”

“The one and only,” Han said with a proud smile.

Felix immediately stood up, holding his arms out like wings. “E’rybody!!” he called, spinning dramatically. “HAN-HYUNG IS MY TWINNIE! We same birthday! That mean we same soul!”

Laughter bubbled up from the hallway. Jeongin poked his head out from the bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth, while Hyunjin, already dressed in his mismatched pajamas and socks, leaned in from the kitchen with wide eyes.

“Did he just say you’re soulmates?” Jeongin managed around a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Same soul!” Felix repeated, running up and hugging Han tightly. “He my twinnie!”

Han’s eyes welled up despite himself. He pressed a kiss to the top of Felix’s hair and murmured, “Yeah. I’m your twinnie, always.”

Minho, watching from the kitchen, melted at the sight. Chan, beside him, had paused halfway through slicing fruit and was just staring, smile soft and glassy.

Back in the living room, the art session began in earnest. Felix’s drawings sprawled quickly — messy, bright, filled with swirls of color and stories behind each one. He drew Jeongin as a fox dragon (“'Cause he sneaky sneaky!”), Hyunjin as a rainbow prince (“He fancy like a real prince!”), and himself beside Han, both wearing crowns. Above their heads in scratchy, wobbly letters, he wrote: “TWINS.”

Han lay beside him on the floor, helping draw fire for their dragons and shading in golden sparkles. Jeongin soon joined them, coaxed by Felix’s firm insistence and a bright “Come sit, Innie-hyung, you gotta draw your tail!”

Felix would look up between strokes and giggle, proudly showing off each new doodle with excitement like he’d just painted the Mona Lisa. Han kept them all, each drawing tucked carefully into a folder with Felix’s name scribbled in the corner.

“Dis one’s you eating cereal,” Felix explained to Seungmin, holding up a stick-figure dragon surrounded by floating cereal bowls. “Cereal is very ‘portant.”

“You’re absolutely right,” Changbin said, ruffling his hair.

As the boys kept drawing, Minho and Chan moved around the kitchen, preparing breakfast. Pancakes, eggs, bacon, and toast filled the air with their rich scent. The homey smells seemed to wrap around all of them like a warm blanket. Every now and then, Minho would glance into the living room, his heart tugging at the sight of Felix so happy, so safe—crayons in hand, surrounded by love.

Chan was watching too, a quiet awe in his eyes. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like this,” he whispered. “So… light.”

Minho smiled. “That’s what happens when you’re surrounded by people who let you be a kid.”

As they finished up, Felix proudly held up a picture of a breakfast feast—pancakes as big as dragons, bacon swords, and a milk river. “We eat now?” he asked hopefully, crawling up onto Han’s lap.

Han wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “I think that’s our cue.”

-

The golden afternoon light had mellowed into something softer, something quieter, as it filtered through the gauzy curtains. Dust motes shimmered lazily in the glow, the air humming with the warmth of a lived-in home. The others were scattered throughout the apartment—Jeongin and Hyunjin huddled over a puzzle, Han dozing in a chair with a picture book spread across his chest, and Minho humming faintly from the kitchen as he cleaned dishes with Seungmin at his side.

But in the corner of the living room, tucked away where the sunlight pooled most tenderly, were Chan and Felix.

Chan sat cross-legged on the carpet, Seungmin’s acoustic guitar balanced across his lap. The familiar wood was smooth beneath his fingers as he tuned it, the gentle plucking sending soft, floating notes into the room. Beside him, Felix was curled up like a kitten, head resting against Chan’s knee, eyes following the older’s every move.

“Do you wanna try?” Chan asked, voice quiet, as if speaking any louder would break the delicate calm between them.

Felix perked up immediately. “Yes, pwease!”

Chan smiled, heart already aching in the best kind of way. He shifted the guitar toward Felix, helping guide the boy’s tiny fingers to the strings. “Just press here—not too hard, just like that. Okay, now strum.”

A clunky, buzz-filled sound rang out, and Felix giggled, nose scrunching up in delight. “Oops!”

Chan chuckled too. “It’s okay, angel. You’ll get the hang of it. One more try?”

Felix nodded seriously, biting his lip as he adjusted his fingers. The next chord still wasn’t perfect (not even close) but Chan clapped anyway, showering the boy with praise until Felix was beaming so brightly it nearly knocked the air from his lungs.

They played like that for a few minutes, Felix getting distracted every few seconds by the guitar's sounds, the way the strings buzzed under his touch, or the way Chan’s voice softened whenever he encouraged him.

But eventually, Felix stilled. He looked up at Chan with wide, dark eyes, something unreadable flickering behind them.

“Chris?”

“Yeah, baby?”

The boy shifted a little, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt. “I feel funny.”

Chan frowned gently, setting the guitar down beside them. “Funny how?”

Felix didn’t look at him when he answered. “When I look at you… my tummy feels all… squiggly. And my heart goes boom-boom-boom really fast. Like I runned really far.”

Chan’s heart clenched. He blinked, stunned, trying to gather his thoughts. “Oh,” he whispered.

“I don’t get it,” Felix mumbled, still not meeting his eyes. “It’s just you, though. Nobody else makes me feel like that. Is that… is that bad?”

Chan reached out slowly, brushing a hand through Felix’s soft, tousled hair. “No, sweetie. It’s not bad. It’s not bad at all.”

Felix finally looked up at him, brows furrowed. “But… why do I feel like that?”

Chan swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Because… sometimes, even if we don’t remember things, our hearts do. And maybe your heart remembers something special about me. That’s all.”

Felix frowned. “Like… a secret memory?”

“Maybe,” Chan whispered.

The little boy reached out then, resting his small hand over Chan’s chest. “That why I feel safe here?”

Chan blinked fast, his vision blurring slightly. “Yeah,” he croaked, curling an arm around Felix and pulling him in. “That’s exactly why.”

Felix settled against him easily, curling up like he belonged there and Chan guessed, maybe he always had.

After a long moment, Felix’s voice piped up again. “Can we sing now? You said we could.”

Chan nodded, clearing his throat and pulling the guitar back into his lap. “What should we sing?”

Felix didn’t hesitate. “Twinkle star.”

Chan smiled. Of course. He began strumming softly, the simple chords warming the space between them. He sang the first line alone, and then Felix’s voice joined his—off-key, breathy, but so full of heart that it made Chan ache.

“Twinkle, twinkle, little star…”

His voice was small, but he sang with everything he had, chin lifted, eyes wide and bright with concentration.

Chan didn’t even try to hide the tears this time.

He watched Felix with awe, with grief, with love too big for words. This was the boy who curled up in his lap on late nights, sobbing from pain he never deserved. This was the boy who gave everything of himself on stage and off, who always smiled even when he hurt.

And now… now he was here, seven years old, singing with all the trust in his little heart, and Chan could barely breathe.

When the song ended, Felix yawned and leaned back into him. “Can we sing ‘gain later?”

“Every day if you want,” Chan whispered, voice catching on the words, holding Felix close in his lap as if the warmth between them could shield either of them from what the world had already taken.

But then Felix shifted.

His little hands, once so content in their fidgeting, stilled on Chan’s chest. Slowly, his fingers curled into the fabric of Chan’s sweatshirt. He leaned his cheek against Chan’s shoulder, still and quiet for a moment.

Then, in the tiniest voice, he whispered, “I miss my grandma.”

Chan blinked. “Your—”

“My grandma,” Felix repeated, but this time the words cracked. “I… I miss her so much.”

The sound that followed splintered Chan’s heart like a branch struck by lightning—a wet, shuddering sob that shook Felix’s whole body. Chan froze.

No. No, no, not that grandma.

But it was. It had to be.

The grandmother Felix used to FaceTime from backstage, the one who sent him handwritten letters even after her vision worsened. The one he had cried for when the phone stopped ringing. When she passed away a few years ago, it had nearly broken the adult Felix.

Now… now Felix was only seven. Too young to understand why the world took someone you loved and never gave them back.

“I didn’t say bye,” Felix sobbed, voice high and fractured. “I didn’t say bye!”

Chan’s throat tightened. He pulled the boy closer, wrapping his arms protectively around him. “Felix… oh baby, she knew. She knew you loved her.”

“But I didn’t say it!” Felix wailed, pounding his tiny fists against Chan’s chest. “I didn’t get to hug her! I wanted to hug her, and now I can’t!”

His cries grew frantic, trembling with loss and guilt and helplessness, and Chan felt like he was drowning. He remembers. He remembers this conversation, it was only a few years ago. But this time it was worse, it was so much worse.

“Lix, listen to me—”

“I want her back!” Felix sobbed. “Please! I want her! I want my grandma!”

Then, brokenly, like his voice had been scooped out of him, he whimpered, “Minho…”

Chan’s breath caught. He looked down and saw Felix’s tear-swollen eyes searching the room.

“Minho-hyung…”

Chan didn’t waste a second.

He scooped Felix up and bolted into the hallway, calling out as he went. “Minho! I need you—now!”

Footsteps pounded on the wood floor, and Minho appeared around the corner, alarm in his eyes. “What happened?!”

Chan was shaking. “He’s crying—he misses his grandma. The one that—he’s saying he didn’t say goodbye—he’s losing it, Minho, I don’t know what to do—”

Minho’s expression softened instantly. He stepped forward and held his arms out.

Felix reached for him the second he saw him, a sob ripping from his chest. “Minho-hyuung!”

Minho took him, holding him close, tucking his face into the crook of his neck. “Shhh,” he murmured. “It’s okay. I’ve got you. You’re safe, baby.”

Felix clung to him like he was the last solid thing in the world.

Minho rocked gently, one hand rubbing small circles into Felix’s back, the other cupping the back of his head. He spoke low and steady, not asking questions, not correcting anything, just anchoring Felix with his presence.

“I’ve got you, baby. You’re not alone. I’m right here.”

Felix hiccupped. “She’s gone…”

“I know,” Minho whispered, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I know, sweetheart. I miss her too. But she’s watching over you. She always is.”

Chan stood back, heart aching, eyes glistening. He’d seen Minho calm wild animals with a glance, and now he watched him soothe a heartbroken child with only his voice.

But then, Felix shifted in Minho’s arms. He looked up, eyes still wet, cheeks flushed.

“C-can… can I have both?”

Minho tilted his head. “What’s that, angel?”

Felix sniffled, voice trembling. “I want both my hyungs… I wanna hug both of you. Please?”

Chan’s heart cracked open.

Minho nodded at Chan, eyes soft. “Come here.”

Chan stepped forward slowly, unsure—but then Felix reached for him with both arms, fingers wiggling in invitation.

“Come here, Chris-hyung…” he mumbled, trying so hard to smile.

Chan collapsed to his knees beside them, pulling Felix into the warmest, gentlest group hug the world had ever seen.

“I’m here,” he whispered into Felix’s hair. “We both are.”

Felix buried his face between their shoulders, wrapped tight in their arms, cocooned in safety and love.

Eventually, after long minutes and a lot of sniffling, Felix peeked up again, rubbing his eyes with a fist. “M-my tummy hurts…”

“Probably ‘cause you’re hungry,” Minho said gently. “Wanna go get something to eat?”

Felix nodded. “Can I have toast? Wif jam?”

Minho smiled. “I bet Changbin-hyung can make something even better.”

Felix perked up, even managing a wobbly grin. “Ooh…”

Minho slowly lowered him to the ground, brushing his curls from his forehead. “Go on, baby. Go find Binnie-hyung.”

Felix gave one last hug to each of them, then toddled down the hall, calling, “Binnie-hyuung! I’m hungryyyy!”

Chan let out a long breath and leaned back against the wall, wiping at his eyes.

Minho didn’t say anything. He just reached out and squeezed his hand.

-

Steam rose in gentle curls from the bathwater, wrapping around the warm bathroom like a protective veil. The scent of strawberry-scented shampoo lingered in the air, sweet and soft, just like the boy sitting quietly in the middle of the tub. Felix's shoulders were slumped forward, his back hunched slightly beneath the layer of bubbles clinging to his skin, as if the weight of everything—even in this smaller body—still pressed down on him.

Seungmin sat on the bath mat, sleeves rolled up, watching closely with eyes full of quiet concern. Beside him, Changbin knelt with a small plastic cup, carefully rinsing Felix’s reddish-brown hair.

"Okay, eyes closed, aegi," Changbin murmured gently.

Felix obeyed, scrunching his face tight like he was preparing for a storm, and Changbin tilted the cup slowly, letting the warm water cascade over his scalp. Even with all his care, Felix still flinched at the feeling. A barely-there wince crossed his face—one that didn’t belong on a child.

“Sorry, sorry,” Changbin whispered, setting the cup down. “All done now.”

Felix blinked his eyes open and reached out for the toy shark floating by his elbow. He squeezed it, and it let out a funny little squeak that made him giggle. Seungmin smiled at the sound. It had taken a few minutes, but he was finally starting to relax.

“You like sharks?” Seungmin asked, watching as Felix made the toy swim in circles.

Felix nodded shyly. “They bite,” he said with wide eyes.

Changbin chuckled. “They do. But not bathtub sharks. Those are friendly.”

Another quiet giggle.

Felix’s fingers swirled through the bubbles again, slower now, the lines between his brows smoothing out. He was still smaller than he should’ve been—even seven-year-old Felix felt too small, too delicate. But his eyes, when they weren’t clouded with worry or pain, were filled with an almost heartbreaking softness.

“You’re both nice,” he said suddenly, voice quiet and unsure, like he didn’t know if he was allowed to say it.

Seungmin’s throat tightened. “We’re your hyungs,” he said softly. “That means we’re your family.”

Felix nodded, eyes cast downward again. “Some people… not nice.”

Changbin froze. His heart cracked a little. He tried not to show it, but the thought of someone hurting this boy—hurting their Felix in any lifetime, any body—made his blood simmer.

“Well,” he said after a beat, reaching out to draw a tiny heart into the bubbles, “I’m gonna fight anyone who isn’t nice to you.”

Felix looked at the bubble heart. Then back up at Changbin.

“You’d win,” he said simply, with complete faith.

Seungmin burst out laughing, a sound that lifted the heaviness from all of them. Changbin just grinned, pressing a hand to his heart like he’d just been knighted.

Once Felix was washed and clean, they wrapped him up in the fluffiest towel they had—white with tiny ducklings printed along the edges—and helped him step out of the tub. His skin was warm and pink, his hair damp and curling slightly, and he let out a content sigh as Seungmin knelt to help him into his favorite cloud-print pajamas.

“Do you want your lotion?” Seungmin asked gently, rubbing it between his hands before massaging it into Felix’s arms.
Felix nodded, sleepy now. “Smells good.”

“You smell like a cupcake,” Changbin teased, pressing a soft kiss to the top of his head.

Felix giggled, leaning his head against Changbin’s chest for just a moment before letting Seungmin guide him back into the hallway.

The apartment was dim, lights low and warm as the evening wrapped around them. Felix’s eyes fluttered as they walked, and Seungmin gently adjusted the boy in his arms so Felix could rest his head on his shoulder.

“You okay?” Changbin whispered, following close behind.

“Mhm… sleepy.”

“Let’s get you to bed, bud.”

They didn’t make it that far.

Halfway through the living room, Felix tensed. Seungmin felt it immediately—the way the boy’s small body stiffened, muscles locking up with sudden strain.

“Hey,” Seungmin said quickly, stopping. “What’s wrong?”

Felix’s breathing hitched. He made a soft sound, confused and pained, and then—without warning—his body began to shake.

“Changbin—!” Seungmin gasped.

“I’ve got him—”

Changbin was already reaching out, helping Seungmin lower Felix onto the couch. The boy clutched at his chest, gasping, and then a glowing warmth spread across his skin.

A golden shimmer—brighter than the one from the day before—wrapped around him, pulsing like a heartbeat. The light grew, impossibly bright, forcing the two to shield their eyes.

And then—

Silence.

When Seungmin looked again, he gasped.

Felix was no longer a sleepy, freshly-bathed seven-year-old.

He was taller. Older. Still small, still soft—but with longer limbs, a leaner frame, and a face that bore the beginnings of teenage features. His eyes fluttered open, dazed and wide, as if waking from a dream.

“...Hyung?”

Seungmin dropped to his knees beside him, voice cracking. “Felix?”

Felix looked around slowly, then up at Seungmin, blinking.

“...Did I fall asleep again?”