Alien ๋࣭ ⭑⚝

by misoversea

Summary:

"What did you just say?" Minho froze in place, his eyes locked on the blond figure before him. In three long strides, he crossed the distance between them, the ground vanishing beneath his feet. He grasped the creature gently by the shoulders

"Did you just say my name? Say it again" Startled by the sudden outburst, the alien recoiled, fear flickering in his eyes. His retreat forced Minho back two steps, as if the distance between them was meant to remain.

Or: what happens when two creatures from different worlds meet and fall in love, but cannot coexist on the same planet?

Chapter 1: Alien

Summary:

Minho encounters the strange, silent boy for the first time and tries to reach out to him, but his attempt at connection only drives the frightened creature to flee

Will he pass by again today?

The creature wondered, peering at the passersby from behind the bush's thinning branches.

It was late autumn, and the few leaves still attached to it barely served as a hiding place. Yet that wasn't a concern - for he was nearly invisible to the human eye. Tiny as a raindrop, he shimmered in silence.

Every day he would settle on that tree, watching humans wander, unaware of his presence.

He did not belong to their world.

He came from far beyond the stars.

After a long voyage through the cosmos, he had found refuge on the blue planet and chose to remain for a while, at least, but he soon discovered Earth was not build for his kind. He could breathe its air only for twelve hours, past that, his body stiffened, his cells igniting a slow, aching burn.

And still he stayed.

Slowly, he grew used to its life and fell in love with its creature.

He did not possess a true body, his essence mirrored that of water, able to take any shape, color or size. Yet he had never dared to mimic the human form, how could he? He wouldn't  even know where to begin. He didn't know how to communicate, nor how to nourish himself, let alone live a normal life among them, so he contented himself with quietly watching the inevitable passing of their lives from behind those leaves.

Three moons had passed since he began his quiet watching from the shadows.

There was one person who lingered in his memory, he always passed by at the same hour, a bag in hand, dressed in an elegant uniform. He never knew where he went, nor what the bag held, he only watched quietly, his morning departure and his late return, when he had to drift back into the stars.

That person became the first face he saw at dawn, and the last before vanishing into the dark.

Through him, he also met music.

He didn't undestand it, didn't know its meaning, but he had never heard anything like that in his life. Accustomed to the defeaning silence of space, the sound that reached him felt almost foreign. The melody, however, left him in a daze. Just a hint of it, through the human's earbuds, stirred something in him, tiny vibrations tingled his senses whenever he passed under that tree, and with each passing day, he fell deeper in love with those songs, unable to resist their pull.

I wonder how it works

He asked himself, swaying gently among the branches.

But then, one day, he didn't come, and the next day he was gone again.

He felt lost.

That human had become his anchor and now, in his absence, the loneliness howled.

He felt again that quiet sorrow, betrayed, abandoned as he once was, by those of his own kind.

He stood on the verge of a crisis, ready to turn his back on the planet, when a fragile scrap of paper drifted past, caught in the leaves of a bush, unfolding a drawing of human shape. The figure was a bit stylized and weathered, its details blurred by time and elements. A dark, unsettling thought flickered in the creature's mind.

Could he become one of them?

He was weary of his solitude, tired of wandering, with no place in the vast universe. So he chose to replicate the form in the drawing, adjusting the parts he could not decipher, and foolishly materialized atop that tree, carrying the weight of a body the branches could not bear. He tumbled to the earth, pain radiating through his fragile new form. Branches cut his face and hands. He gasped, unfamiliar with that feeling. He pressed his palm gently to his aching side, as if the warmth of his own touch might soften the pain.

"Hey are you alright? What were you doing up in that tree? " The boy asked gently, sliding the earbud from his ear, his steps light as he approached. But the creature could only gaze up in silence, the words falling around him like rain on stone, meaningless.

He could not answer, nor stand; the weight of that borrowed body held him down. It was quite a sorrow, inhabiting a shape that was not his, each movement a struggle, each breath a foreign sound.

"You didn't hit your head, did you?"

The alien took a step back, fear flashing in his eyes. He hadn't expected that his first encounter would be with him, the human who had stirred such despair in his heart. The creature shook his head, confused, and tried once more to rise, this time reaching for a nearby pole to steady himself.

"Let me help you." Minho's voice was a quiet plea as he slipped the earbud into his pocket and stepped closer. The creature glanced around, startled, breath trembling and brought a hand to the stinging in his cheek. He felt a substance wetting the tip of his finger, something like his own, but as he lifted it into the fading light, he saw the difference.

It was red.

"Are you bleeding?" The brown-haired boy asked, his voice soft and hesitant as he edged closer. The fear in his eyes was unmistakable- was he running from someone? 

"Should I call for help? Have someone come for you?" he kept asking, his words lost on the alien who could only feel the pain, the only thing his trembling body recognized. The boy stopped a few steps away, his eyes filled with a quite sorrow; he looked no older than him, his long, pale hair veiled his face, barely revealing his eyes, large and vulnerable like those of a frightened fawn, trapped between two worlds that were never meant to meet.

"What's your name?" He asked softly, trying to coax at least the boy's name from his lips, but the blonde remained silent, untouched by his words.

"Maybe he can't speak...or perhaps he's foreign...what should I do?" Minho sighed, running a hand through his hair in helpless frustration. He didn't know sign language and he felt embarassed speaking in english unless absolutely necessary. He tried anyway, whispering words into the empty space between them, but the silence remained unbroken and the alien's silence seemed to grow deeper, more unreachable.

"Damn I'm late...but I can't leave you like this." He muttered, glancing at his watch, his thoughts pulling him in two directions. A sudden cough startled the alien, who quickly ducked behind the pole, hiding as if it could shield him from the world. Minho pressed his hand over his mouth, struggling to stifle the remnants of his lingering cold, the coughs still rattling in his chest. He had already missed too many lessons because of his illness. He couldn't afford to stay home again, skipping yet another day. But there he was, frozen in place before a stranger, trying desperatly to communicate, while the minutes slipped away, unnoticed, like water flowing through his fingers.

"My name is Minho." He introduced himself, placing a hand over his chest, trying to gesture in a way that might bridge the silence between them.

"And you are?" He mouthed the letters carefully, pointing to the creature, but the alien only shook his head, lost, unsure of what to do. He felt a sting in his eyes, the unbidden swell of tears.

It was sadness he knew all to well, a sadness that wore many faces, no matter the form. Without a word, the creature turned away, his body trembling, and began to run.

"Wait!" Minho screamed, reaching out, his hand a fleeting gesture toward the boy who stumbled awkwardly, disappearing into the distance, his footsteps echoing down the empty street.

"Should I follow him?" He wondered, but before he could even answer himself, the boy had vanished from his sight. He realized that following him might only cause more trouble, so with a sigh, he turned and resumed his walk to the university, where his friends were waiting for him at the entrance.

"Feeling better now?" the dark-haired boy asked with a smile, only to receive a bored grimance in reply.

"We missed you." the oldest of the group added with a grin, reaching out to hug him, but Minho quickly stepped aside, causing him to almost stamble into thin air.

"Chan there's no point in trying, you know Minho doesn't like hugs" Changbin teased, his voice laced with amusement.

"Especially yours." Hyunjin added with a smirk.

"But he let's Felix hug him!" Chan muttered, pouting slightly.

"That's because Felix is a cat, just like him" Seungmin interjected, squeezing past them with a stack of books in his arms, cleraly anxious about being late. Together they made their way into the classroom and took seats that, for the most part, were scattered far apart. Only Chan managed to settle next to the brown-haired boy.

"Are you okay? Still not feeling well?" The oldest asked, glancing at Minho, who sat unusually quiet, his gaze lost in thought.

"Huh? No...I'm fine. Just...thinking"

"About what?"

"I had a strange encounter this morning"

"Oh? Spill"

"Well...I was walking my usual route when someone literally fell from the sky"

"What??"

"I mean - he fell out of a tree"

"What was he doing in a tree?"

"I have no idea. I went over to check on him - he looked hurt"

"And?"

"...He didn't say a word, like not even one, he didn't seem to undestand me" Minho replied, his voice trailing off, eyes still clouded by the memory.

"Maybe he's a foreigner?"

"That's what I thought too, so I tried speaking english...but nothing changed. Then I wondered if maybe he was deaf or mute but..." Minho sighed, running a hand through his hair. his gaze distant.

"He looked so scared and...sad? He ran off before I could say or do anything else"

"That's really weird.."

"I wanted to follow him, but I'd have missed yet another class...and honestly, I wouldn't have known what to do, he didn't seem very comfortable around me"

"Had you ever seen him before?"

Minho shook his head. "Never..."

"Maybe he just moved here, trying to get used to this place."

"And you think hiding among the trees helps with that?" he raised an eyebrow, a trace of irony painting his words.

"Maybe he was looking for a cat." Chan shrugged, the fell into silence.

The lesson began, and both of them took notes, trying to focus on the professor's voice, but Minho mind wandered, drawn back to what had happened that morning. That fleeting moment had cracked open the dull rhythm of his days and now it lingered, like a half-remembered dream he couldn't shake.

Would he ever see that boy again?

 

 

Chapter 2: Earth

Summary:

Minho crosses paths with the alien boy once more, and this time, manages to bring him home - turning their strange reunion into the beginning of something unexpectedly tender.

His cheek burned with a searing pain, the salt of his tears only deepening the ache. He longed to return to his true form, to escape into the infinite expanse of the stars, but his mind, lost in haze, couldn't gather the strenght to free him. So he curled into himself, a fragile silhouette in the quite dark, waiting for the storm of anxiety to fade.

The hours drifted by unnoticed, and still he remained there, motionless, his knees tucked to his chest, his back arched in a delicate surrender to the weight of the world.

And then, a cat, soft and gentle, had quietly scaled the wall behind him, and now rested upon his back, purring in a quiet song. It was not the first time he he seen such a creature but never had one dared to touch him. The sensation of being touched felt like a distant, unfamiliar echo.

The little creature began to knead softly with its paws upon its back, and the boy slowly lifted his head, turning just enough to observe the quiet, almost ritualistic dance the cat performed on his jacket. He made no sudden movements, afraid to disturb the fragile moment, and stood still, his gaze filled with wonder. There was a strange swelling at the base of his back, moving gracefully through the air, patterns no human skin had evern worn.

The cat slid down from his shoulders, circled him once, and then pressed itself against his trousers, mewing softly. The alien flinched at first, startled by the unexpected touch, but when he saw the harmlessness in its eyes, he allowed it to linger. The feline nuzzled its face against his arm, persistent in its quiet longing, purring softly, its body vibrating gently against his own, an unspoken echo of a shared soitude.

A discomfort settled over him quiet, but unmistakable. He couldn't grasp what the creature wanted from him, and that uncertainty gnawed at the edges of his calm. His thoughts slipped, almost unwillingly, to that human who had once reached out to him in the same way, with words unreturned and gestures left hanging in the air.

Had he felt the same way? That quiet ache of being met with silence?

A soft meow pulled him back.

The alien looked at it for a long moment, unsure of what to do, caught in the stillness between caution and curiosity. Then, hesitantly, he chose to respond offering something in return for the persistence the little creature had shown him. He extended a trembling hand toward it, but quickly pulled back, as if the gesture itself might shatter the fragile connection between them.

What would happen if he touched it?

Would he hurt it?

Would it run from him, afraid?

Or would something inside him shift, in a way he wasn't ready to face?

Lost in thoughts, he hadn't noticed that the cat had already reached him, brushing against his hand without asking permission. The alien felt a strange sensation at the touch of his fur achingly soft, almost unreal. He let his hand rest fully upon the creature's small head, stroking it timidly, slowly growing accustomed to the quiet comfort it offered. His fingers sank into the gentle fluff, brushing against its delicate ears and a tender smile bloomed across his face.

"Soonie!"

The alien jolted at the sound, startling the animal who slipped away vanishing into the fading light at the edge of the alley,drawn by the soft call of his name.

"Soonie where have you run off again??" There was heaviness in the boy's voice.

"There you are....thanks goodness." He knelt down slowly and his fingers found their way through the pet's familiar fur. The cat purred gently, as if answering a question never asked, then turned with grace and purpose, padding back toward the shadows of the alley.

Like a guide leading the heart home.

Minho stood there, watching him go.

"And now where are you going?" exhausted, he turned the corner, only to stop in his tracks. The boy from that morning stood there, trapped by the alley's end, with no way to escape.

"It's you.." He whispered, surprised, his gaze lingering, as if the moment itself might vanish. Then his eyes fell to Soonie, who was already rubbing insistently against the stranger once more claiming him, choosing him.

"Seems like Soonie likes you, that...doesn't happen often." He lowered himself slowly, a delicate attempt to bridge the distance, but the blonde recoiled, losing his balance in the process and fell softly to the cold ground.

"Sorry I didn't mean to scare you" Minho took a few step back, shaking his hands, before placing the bag that hung from his shoulders on the ground.

"It's almost like talking to a lost child..." He murmored to himself, unzipping the bag.

"But maybe I have an idea..." He sifted through the books, his fingers brushing past pages, until he drew out a notebook and a pen. With care, he began to write on the blank page, then lifted it slowly, offering it to the blonde-haired boy.

"Minho." He said pointing at himself, his voice warm and steady.

"That's my name. M-i-n-h-o." He spoke again, his words a gentle rhythm, his pen tracing each letter, each sound, as if weaving a delicate thread between them. There was no rush, no pressure just a patient invitation.

"Soonie" he said, shifting the subject, as he gently placed a hand on his pet's head.

"This is Soonie" he explained with a tender smile, his gaze softening with affection.

The alien looked at him, confused yet intrigued, the sound was clear, but he wasn't sure he could replicate it.

"I'm Minho, he's Soonie, and you?" Minho asked, now gesturing to the creature in front of him. The boy lowered his gaze, studying his own form, before pointing to his chest. Minho nodded eagerly.

"Yes, exactly. What's your name?" He asked again, but the blonde only shook his head.

"This is all so strange...could it be that you don't even know how to read?" He wondered, scratching the back of his neck, confusion settling in.

Could he have been wandering since this morning?

Did he have no home to return to, no one searching for him?

In such a state, it could be dangerous for him to be left alone on the streets.

"Can I come closer?" He asked, taking a careful step forward "I won't hurt you." He added, gently setting the notebook on the ground. Then he placed a hand over his chest, a quiet gesture meant to speak the honesty words couldn't hold.

"I just want to help you." his voice fell to a whisper as he slowly approached, and strangely the alien didn't move, not a flinch, not a step back. It reminded Minho of Soonie, just a moment ago, trusting a stranger without a word. Step by step, Minho closed the distance until they were face to face.

"Look at you...you're hur.t" He murmored, brushing a thumb just beneath the boy's wound a touch light as air. The moment their skin met, the blonde flinched as if the contact had burned.

"I'm sorry....I didn't mean to." Minho said, guilt rushing in as he lowered his head again and again "But we need to treat that wound...or it'll get worse." He spoke as if the other boy could truly understand.

"I don't know if someone's waiting for you...but I can't leave you like this. Would you come with me?" He offered his hand, open and still, a quiet promise resting in his palm. The blonde stared at him, lost in thought, his eyes drifting to the outstretched hand and didn't move. Soonie meowed softly at Minho's feet, rubbing against his legs like a gentle nudge from the earth itself, a reminder that not everything in this world was meant to harm - that perhaps some things could be trusted.

And so, slowly, the boy reached out, his fingers brushing against Minho's.

His hand was warm, not as soft as Soonie's fur, but there still was a quiet comfort holding it. His grip was hesitant, unsure but Minho held on firmly, lifting him to his feet, then gently let go again, afraid to make him uncomfortable. He bent to gather his things, slipping his backpack onto his shoulders and cradled Soonie in his arms.

Then he began to walk and behind him the boy followed - silent, curious, mimicking his steps, feeling the strange texture of concrete beneath his feet. In his world, he had always floated weightless, he had never needed to lean on anything, never needed to touch. Everything there was silent, distant, cold. The idea of contact had never existed, nor had pain, but emotions, those had always been with him, even in this human form he still carried anxiety, sadness and a quiet, persistent loneliness.

He tried to open his mouth, to speak but he had no idea what kind of sound might emerge. Perhaps hearing the boy's voice again might help him find his own. So he reached out a hand, his fingers brushing the edge of Minho's backpack, uncertain how to ask for attention.

Maybe....

He thought he should do what the cat did. He quickened his pace, nearly stumbling, and once he was by Minho's side, he brushed his shoulder against the older boy's. Minho pulled away instinctively, startled, his eyes wide with confusion.

"What are you-" but then he saw it: that flicker of disappointment in the alien's eyes. A reflection, the very same reaction Minho himself had given when they first met.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to react like that" Minho said gently, holding Soonie a little closer, his voice softer now "I just wasn't expecting that. Do you need something?"

The boy lifted a hand, pointed at Minho and parted his lips, as if finally, he was trying to shape his name for the first time.

"Minho!" His mother's voice rang out from the balcony above, cutting through the moment.

"Did you find Soonie?"

"Yeah, Mom." He replied, climbing the stairs with the alien trailing behind him.

"Did you bring a friend?"

"Uh...yeah. Can you open the door for us?" He asked, waiting just outside the building's entrance. He turned to check if the boy was still behind him, he was. When the door clicked open, they stepped inside together.

"I'm sorry Minho, I didn't think he'd run off. I must have left the window open.." His mother said as they entered.

"It's fine, Mom. He doesn't go far. I found him quickly - actually, he helped me" Minho added, glancing at the blonde boy, who stood frozen just inside the doorway.

"Is he a new friend? I don't think I've seen him before." His mother asked, her eyes scanning the unfamiliar boy with curiosity.

"It's a long story...I'll tell you later. But please, don't ask him any questions he's extremely shy"

"Alright" his mother replied with a nod.

"Is he staying for lunch?"

"I think so" Minho said, glancing back at the boy.

"I'm going upstairs to sort a few things. We'll come down after, okay?"

"Sure"

His mother disappeared back into the kitchen and Minho motioned for the boy to follow him up the stairs. They walked quietly down the hallway, then entered Minho's room. He dropped his backpack at the foot of the bed and collapsed onto the mattress with a tired sigh, suddenly overtaken by a dry, harsh cough. The noise was jarring, sudden and unfamiliar, and to the alien, it sounded almost dangerous. His body stiffened with worry, his gaze fixed on the human.

"I was sick recently, sorry" Minho explained, sitting up and covering his mouth with a hand, still a little breathless.

"You can sit down.." he offered, gesturing toward the chair nearby. "Or...you can sit here" he added, patting the space beside him on the bed. The boy looked at him, but didn't move. He remained standing, still unsure.

"You're weird, I don't get it. It's like you're from another world" Minho let out a quiet laugh as he stood up from the bed and stepped closer to him. "You can't read, you don't speak and it's like everything around you is brand new.." He spoke more to himself than to the boy, his eyes tracing the figure before him.

"And yet...you're just a regular boy, like me." The words fell from his lips like a quiet surrender.

"Minho, lunch is ready!" His mother called from the stairwell.

"Coming!" He replied, reaching for the boy's arm and tugging gently, a small invitation to follow. The alien flinched slightly when Minho released his grip, as if the contact had left a strange echo on his skin. Everything there felt foreign even the way they sat around a table just to eat. Once seated, he stared at the plate in front of him, unmoving.

"Aren't you gonna eat?" Minho's mother asked kindly, glancing at the untouched food before the silent guest.

"Maybe he's not hungry.." Minho tried to explain, casting a glance toward the boy beside him. The blonde tilted his head, mirroring the movement, his eyes locking onto Minho's face, studying him with intensity, trying to undestand the meaning behind that expression.

"Are you sure he's okay?" His mother asked.

"Please, Mom...I need you to trust me on this. I'll explain everything later, I promise" Without waiting for an answer, Minho stood up and gently led the boy out of the kitchen.

"Minho, wait-"

Minho

That sound again. He had heard it again and again. He recognized it now - but still wasn't sure if he could form it himself.

"So you don't eat either...what am I supposed to do with you?" Minho sighed, pacing the room in frustration, his thoughts spiraling. If he told his mom everything, she would probably insist on calling someone the autorities maybe, but how could he, when he didn't even know the boy's name?

Then - a sound.

"Min..."

Minho turned sharply, eyes wide.

"...ho"

"Min..ho"

It came out like a breath wrapped in trembling, the first shape of a voice not yet used to existing.

Minho froze.

"What did you just say...?"

Chapter 3: Disappear

Summary:

Minho hears the alien's voice for the very first time - a single word, fragile and uncertain - and teaches him how to play video games, sharing a fleeting moment of normalcy before having to say goodbye once more.

"What did you just say?" Minho froze in place, his eyes locked on the blond figure before him. In three long strides, he crossed the distance between them, the ground vanishing beneath his feet. He grasped the creature gently by the shoulders 

"Did you just say my name? Say it again" Startled by the sudden outburst, the alien recoiled, fear flickering in his eyes. His retreat forced Minho back two steps, as if the distance between them was meant to remain.

"Forgive me...I got carried away." Minho bowed his head slightly, a gesture of quiet remorse. The blond watched him, curious, not quite undestanding. Then, with a breath softer than a whisper, he spoke again.

"Mi...ho" Minho looked up, and a smile bloomed slowly across his lips. "It's Minho!" He said it clearly, not to correct, but to teach gently shaping the sound of his name like something precious.

"Min..ho"

"Yes, that it" - Minho whispered, eyes shining. "Just like that." His voice carried warmth, low and tender, not deep enough to be heavy, but soft, like velvet brushed against the skin. Minho couldn't truly catch its color, the words trembled out of him, fragile and raw, like the cry of a soul tasting air for the very first time. They scraped lightly along his throat, stirring a strange, delicate tickle, and what followed was a rough, shapeless sound, not a word, not yet, but it held the weight of something trying to be born.

"It feels like when a child says 'mama' for the first time." Minho's laugh was quiet, colored with awe, as he reached toward the creature, his hand open, patient. The blond glanced down at the gesture, then back up at him, eyes wide with uncertainty.

"Come here. Let me take care of that cut on your face." He didn't repeat himself. There was no point - he knew the words would drift past him, unheard or misunderstood so he reached out instead, fingers brushing his, and led him wordlessly to the bathroom. He sat him gently on the edge of the bathtub, porcelain cold beneath him. He poured disinfectant onto a cotton pad, then brushed aside his golden strands revealing the wound. The sting came quickly. He flinched, breath caught in his throat, and slipped slightly on the smooth porcelain. Minho's hands found his shoulders in time, grounding him, his touch steady, calm.

"I know it hurts...but I'm almost done." His hands moved again softer now, slower, barely grazing the wound. The boy whimpered, eyes shining from the pain he wasn't used to.

"All done." He said at last, placing a small bandage on his cheek. The alien touched the spot, then rose silently to follow the older boy out of the bathroom. But something made him turn drawn by the mirror, by the quiet weight of a reflection waiting. He stared at the figure staring back, unmoving.

Not recognizing it. Not feeling it as his own.

There was nothing familiar in the shape of that body, in the face framed by someone else's skin. He felt strange. Hollow in a way that language could not soothe.

"You okay?" Minho's voice came softly from the doorway, watching the boy's lost expression. The blond said nothing, but the furrow of his brows, the tiny wrinkle that creased between them, spoke instead. A sadness, quiet and deep, bloomed just beneath his silence.

Minho felt helpless.

A soft sigh escaped him, but he offered the blonde a gentle smile, one that tried to hold warmth, to offer safety where words would fail. With delicate fingers, he took him by the wrist and led him quietly to his room. He guided him onto the bed, then turned on the television. The screen flickered to life, casting light across their faces like a soft aurora. He started up the game console, the familiar hum filling the room, and took the controller in his hands.

"Have you ever played this one?" He asked, though he already knew there would be no answer. He turned to look at him at the boy sitting still beside him, eyes wide with wonder. There was something almost childlike in his awe, something untouched. He was mesmerized. The screen danced with color and sound, vivid and alive in a way the world around him never seemed to be. His lips parted slightly, and his eyes never strayed focused so completely, so innocently. Every time Minho's character was struck or thrown across the map, the blond flinched, reacting with a startled jolt as if the blow had landed on his own chest.

Minho noticed the look in his eyes and smiled to himself, pleased by the way the boy had become so absorbed. He paused the game, knowing it would stir the alien beside him, who longed to savor just a little more of that strange, bright experience.

"Do you want to try?" Minho asked softly, offering him the joystick, his voice laced with quiet amusement. The blond looked at him in confusion, eyes wide and uncomprehending. "I'll show you how it's done." He said, his voice warm, as he pointed to the bright blue X button on the controller. With a soft press, the character on the screen jumped and Minho mimicked the motion with a grin, hoping the silly gesture would help make the concept clearer. The alien watched him, bemused. But then, something clicked. He connected the color to the action, pressing the button with tentative fingers. Another jump, another reaction. He flinched slightly, startled by the result, the mattress shifting beneath him.

"Good job!" Minho praised, his voice low with approval, his eyes sparkling. "Now look, this one's for attacking." He pointed to the red circle on the controller, guiding his hands with a gentleness that felt more intimate than it should.

"If you press it multiple times, you can string together combos." He kept pressing the button, making the character move forward with quick, uncertain steps. The alien blinked, then followed his example, clumsy strikes cutting through empty space.

"Yes, that's it! Minho said, his voice warm with pride. "And with this, you can move wherever you want." He reached out slowly, taking the boy's hand with care, and guided his finger to the small joystick. He pressed out forward with him, their hands moving as one.

"Depending on how you tilt it, you can go left...or right." His fingers lingered just a moment longer before slipping away, allowing the other to take control.

"See that one?" Minho asked, pointing toward an enemy figure moving on the distance. "Go closer. Try hitting it."

The alien focused, posture tense, fingers uncertain. He weaved between trees, struggling to keep steady. But slowly, bit by bit, his movements smoothed. There was rhythm now. Precision.

"Yes, that's it, right there!" Minho cheered softly, placing a hand on his arm, his voice filled with excitement. "Attack him!" He urged him on, fingers tightening gently around the fabric of his hoodie, grounding him, focusing him. The monster was weak and with just three strikes, it vanished into pixels and light.

"See? It wasn't that hard." Minho said with a smile, his voice soft and proud. The blond looked at the screen, then down at the controller in his hands. Slowly, he turned to Minho, brows slightly furrowed in question.

"What is it?" He asked, following his gaze to where the boy's fingers now hovered above the green triangle button. "Oh, that one." He said with a small grin, noticing the special attack bar fully charged and glowing.

"It's for a stronger attack." He nodded toward the button, inviting him to press it. The alien did and immediatly jumped at the brilliant effects that burst onto the screen. Bright flashes, sharp sounds, energy set loose like magic.

" I see you're enjoying this." Minho observed, watching the shifting waves of emotion ripple across the boy's face. It was all so strange, so new like someone seeing a videogame for the first time. He studied the controller, fascinated by every shape, every symbol. His gaze danced between screen and hands, completely immersed, as if he was discovering a hidden world no one had evere told him about. Now he was playing with the pink square button.

There was something about the colors - their shape, their pattern that seemed to mesmerize him.

"Mmh, that one? It's used to pick things up." Minho kept explaining, as if the other could truly understand him. He led him near a patch of soft pink flowers, then pointed to the button that matched their color. When the plant vanished from view, the alien stood up abruptly, visibly confused. Minho burst into laughter at the sight of his reaction, so pure, so unexpected.

"It's yours now. It's kind of like...picking a flower. When you're in a field and you pluck one from the earth..well, it's gone, right?" He paused, then sighed.

"Ah, what am I even saying? You can't understand me..." He shook his head, defeated, and gently motioned for the boy to sit back down on the bed.

Has he really never picked up a flower in his life...?

The thought lingered in Minho's mind as he turned to look at him again. He watched him quietly, the question echoing in the silence between them. He looked so human, so ordinary and yet, everything about him spoke of something untouched, as if the world had never brushed against him until now. He sat there, still, curious, fragile in his wonder. Mimho's gaze softened.

How could someone who looked so much like him seem so far from everything familiar? He didn't expect an answer, but somehow, just sitting beside him, watching this strange, delicate innocence unfold was enough.

“Min…”

The blond one called out softly, pulling him back to reality. Minho blinked, suddenly aware that he had been staring, too long, too quietly, without noticing what he was even doing. It took him a moment longer to realize the other had spoken, had said part of his name.

“Sorry...what is it?” The alien turned his gaze to the television, pointing at the crimson words flashing on the screen urging a teleport to the nearest location, the whole team had just been wiped out.

“How did you zone out so badly you got yourself killed?” The older one scolded him, but there was warmth in his voice a kind of tender teasing, as he took the joystick from his hands.

They kept playing, and for a few hours, the quiet closeness between them was enough. Minho showed him a few combos, watched as the other grew more confident, more at ease. He even let him pick the team, introducing each character one by one, learning his preferences through the tilt of his head, the curve of a smile. Time passed without weight. The sun began its slow descent behind the mountains the perfect moment for a pause, like a shared snack.

“Wait here, I’m going to grab something from the fridge and I’ll be right back”

The alien didn’t answer, but he didn’t move from his spot. He turned toward the window, waiting. As the darkness began to creep outside, a wave of anxiety washed over him. He felt a tingling sensation crawl up his arms and a sharp pain in his side. The first symptoms were starting to surface, staying any longer on Earth would only cause him more harm. He stood up from the bed, placing the controller on top of it, and leaned toward the half-open window. He had done this countless times before, but never from a place like this, never in this form. He just hoped he could transform back and make it to his spaceship.

“Hey, I brought you a dessert that - “ Minho dropped the puddingg from his hands and rushed to the now wide-open window. Panic hit him like a truck at full speed, and for a brief moment, he feared the alien had jumped from that height, but there was no trace of him, neither outside nor inside the house.

“Mom, have you seen my friend come by here, by any chance?” He asked desperately, making the woman worry.

“No, why?”

“I can’t find him anymore…” He lowered his voice suddenly, imagining the consequences. Maybe it was better not to involve her.

“No, nothing, we were just playing a game!” He lied, forcing a smile.

“Ah, I see. I haven’t seen anyone, no” She smiled and went back to peeling the potatoes. Minho climbed up to his room, closing the door behind him and stopped to look at the bed, where the other had been sitting just moments before. The room seemed so much bigger without him, so empty. It felt like he had lived a dream, only to wake up in reality, making him vanish with the blink of an eye.

“How is it possible?" He asked himself, sinking into the bed with a clouded mind, lost in a sea of unanswered questions.

“Why did he run away…? What will he do out there, alone, through the night?” A thousand thoughts churned inside him, each one pulling him deeper into unease.

“But what am I thinking? It’s impossible he doesn’t have a home...surely, he’s gone back to where he belongs” He tried to settle his racing mind, but the boy’s strange presence lingered, an unsettling feeling he couldn’t shake. Could someone really leave him to wander alone, in those conditions, without care?

That evening, Minho left his food untouched.

“Isn’t it good?” His mother’s voice, soft with concern.

“I thought it was your favorite.”

“Yeah, mom, sorry...I just...I’m not very hungry.” He gave her a faint smile.

“Your friend? I didn’t see him leave, I didn’t even say goodbye, how rude of me.”

“Ah, him…” Minho raised his gaze from the plate, his lips parting as if to speak, but no words came, not at first.

“He had to leave quickly...he says goodbye and is sorry.” He lied, the words feeling foreign on his tongue, not knowing what else to say. He couldn’t quite grasp why the thought of him unsettled him so why it made him turn away from his favourite meal, when he had only known him for such a brief moment.

“Next time, let him stay for dinne.r”

Minho nodded, the weight of her words sinking deep, and silently rose from the table, beginning to clear it. Perhaps he shouldn’t dwell on it so much, but the image of the boy, his sudden disappearance, clung him like a shadow he couldn’t escape.

That night, Minho couldn’t find rest.

He turned restlessly beneath the sheets, tossing and twisting, unable to find any peace in sleep. His gaze lingered on the ceiling, his thoughts far away, a tired sigh escaping his lips. The next day, he would forget everything, returning to his daily routine as if nothing had ever happened. He would turn that brief moment of connection into a distant memory and move on with his life.

Or so he thought.

“What are you doing?” He shouted, his eyes falling on a group of boys surrounding someone in the universitycourtyard, pulling them by the hair. If there was one thing Minho couldn’t bear, it was seeing someone being bullied. He rushed toward them, intent on frightening them off, breaking up the scene before it went any further, but when he reached them, they didn’t even spare him a glance. He then shot them a hostile look, before turning his attention to the poor victim; his heart stopped as he noticed the small green bandage on the boy’s cheek and then the unmistakable blonde hair.

He couldn’t believe it.

It was him, the boy from the day before.

Chapter 4: Lost

Summary:

Lost and alone, the alien follows Minho all the way to university - only to find himself the target of cruel bullies in a world he still cannot understand.

That morning, the alien awoke so utterly disoriented he missed the exact moment he usually descended to Earth, a ritual his body once followed without thinking. In a frantic motion, he flung himself onto the usual branch and after a moment of still focus, his form shifted once more, into that of a human only to fall again, clumsily, from the tree. He could never quite grow used to the weight of that body, so anchored, so strangely real. Then he hid behind the dumpster, waiting in silence for Minho to pass by, as he always did, like clockwork in a world the alien still didn’t fully understand. Truth be told, he didn’t know how long he’d slept perhaps the moment had already passed, perhaps Minho had already walked by, and he simply wouldn’t see him today. He couldn’t remember the way back to what was meant to be his home, and so he let the idea fade before it could even take shape. Then, as he turned toward the alley, he saw him, Minho, at the far end of the street, just as he always appeared: a grey sweater, clean and soft, a white shirt with the collar arranged just so, a tie knotted to quiet perfection, trousers untouched by a single crease. Always so faultlessly composed, though the alien had no real standard of comparison, and no true grasp of clothing.

His long hair fell gently along the sides of his face, making it hard to read his expression yet as he passed by, he gave the impression of someone quietly tired. The alien hesitated for a moment, almost reaching out to stop him, but his hand faltered and withdrew just as quickly. He didn’t understand the needs of humans, nor their rules or rhythms, but in that moment, Minho’s departure felt sacred, like a return to some distant spacecraft that allowed no distractions, no delays and so, he let him go.

Yet curiosity crept in, quiet and dangerous. A strange longing took root to follow him, to see where he vanished to each day, as if it might hold some kind of answer. He waited until Minho was far enough ahead, then moved, softly hiding behind corners, crouching beside parked cars, pressing himself into the stillness of trees. Passerby looked at him with wary eyes, but no one stopped, no one truly payed him attention. From behind a plant, he caught the last glimpse of Minho just as he slipped through a doorway. The alien furrowed his brow, stepped forward and froze alone now, in the middle of the street, uncertain whether to follow him or the silence.

He had never seen the Earth beyond the narrow frame offered by the branches of his tree, never walked among so many people, never heard such a flood of noise pressing in from every direction. Cars rushed past his eyes, a blur of color and movement, pausing now and then to let the humans cross strips of white painted across the road. The only thing separating him from the place Minho had entered were those pale, silent lines. He didn’t know, of course, that humans waited for the signal to turn green before stepping across.

Green.

That color again.

He seemed strangely drawn to it, perhaps because it was the first thing he had seen on Earth, the leaves of that tree cradling his arrival.

He touched the green bandage on his cheek, the same quiet shade and stared at it, lost in thought, until it turned red and horns blared and cars cried out with sharp metallic voices, and he flinched back in terror, heart pounding in a body he barely knew how to hold. Someone shouted at him, while a group of students across the street laughed, mocking him with loud voices. He couldn’t understand the words, thankfully, but he could feel their weight, sharp and unkind, so different from the tone Minho had once used when speaking to him. He ran down the street, reaching the university door at last, pushing it open with clumsy force, only to find himself trapped in a current of students flowing past him. He didn’t belong there, not among them.

The feeling pressed hard against his chest, a sudden, suffocating pressure that made his breath catch, his vision narrow. He bolted, rushing away from the atrium, fleeing into what looked like a courtyard garden. There, hidden beneath a quiet canopy of green, he finally stopped. One hand to his chest, he closed his eyes. His breathing slowed, each inhale fragile. He looked around, frightened. No one was truly paying attention to him and yet, he felt exposed, as if every eye were fixed on him, silent stares of strangers pressing in on all sides and among them, not a single one belonged to Minho.

“Hey, you” a voice startled him.

“Yeah, I’m talking to you. That was quite the little scene you made out there.” the boy mocked him, stepping closer with his group trailing behind.

“You don’t know you’re supposed to wait for the green light at a crossing? Where the hell do you even live?” he snorted, his laughter pulling the others into a chorus of ridicule.

The creature stared at them, one by one, taking a slow, frightened step back. He didn’t understand the words but he understood enough. The tone, the shape of their amusement, it pressed against him like something sharp. He felt cornered even though the courtyard had mostly emptied, students drifting away toward their classrooms, leaving him alone with his new friends.

“Cat got your tongue or what?” one of the boys jeered, giving him a light shove. The blonde didn’t recognize that rough gesture as anything like the awkward kindness Minho had once shown to him. This wasn’t the same.

“Why isn’t he talking?” another asked, turning to the older one.

“Maybe he’s scared. Can’t even get a word out.” he laughed, pushing him again harder this time. The alien stumbled, his back hitting the wall. He felt stripped bare, defenseless, fragile in a way he didn’t know how to explain. He didn’t know how to protect himself, didn’t know how to run, didn’t know how to be in a moment like this. His legs began to tremble, his eyes filled slowly, silently, with tears.

“What are you, stupid or something?” the biggest of them laughed again, giving his shoulder a small shove, but the alien flinched, pulling away, his eyes wide with a pleading that didn’t need translation.

He just wanted to leave, to disappear.

“Mi...nho” he tried to speak but the word trembled, broken and disjointed, barely escaping his lips, and that only made them laugh harder.

“What did you say?”

“Min….” the blonde tried to say his name, but the sound fell apart before it could take shape.

“This loser can’t even talk” one of them sneered, grinning.

“Let’s just go” another muttered, already bored.

“Wait – what’s this?” the boy stopped, pointing at the small green bandage on the alien’s cheek.

“What are you, a little kid?” the one who seemed to be the leader burst into loud, cruel laughter and as he reached out to touch it, the blonde suddenly reacted raising a hand to shield it, protect it.

“What’s wrong? You that attached to your little band-aid?” the boy’s tone shifted irritated now, annoyed that the touch had been refused.

“I want it. I like it.” he mocked, reaching again, but the creature didn’t yield. This time, he stood firm, guarding that one small piece of himself. Then, for the first time, he shot him a look not fearful, but frustrated. Quiet defiance. It only made the boy angrier. With a sudden jerk, he grabbed the alien by his long blond hair. The creature whimpered, his fingers slipping away as he let go.

“Hey! You!” a voice cut through the air calling from a distance.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the voice came louder now, closer, running toward them.

“Don’t you see it for yourself?” the bully sneered, pointing at the boy caught in his grasp. Minho recognized him immediately, and his voice broke somewhere deep in his throat before it could even escape his lips.

It was him, the boy he had met the day before, the same one who had vanished without a trace.

“Let him go” the brown-haired boy warned, stepping forward without fear.

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do?” the tallest one shoved him back.

“I’ll call the professor” Minho said without blinking. He wasn’t afraid of these bullies, but he knew he couldn’t fight them alone if things got worse.

“You won’t even get the chance to.” the bully laughed grabbing Minho’s wrist.

“Minho, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Chan asked, running up behind him, sensing the tension in the air. The moment Chan arrived, the bully let go.

“It’s Chan…” they whispered to each other, alarmed, then scattered quickly, dragging the alien to the ground. Minho ran to the blonde, who recoiled in fear, refusing to let him touch.

“Hey..it’s me, Minho.” his voice soft and cautious. The creature recognized it and tears welled up his eyes. He felt an overwhelming need for protection, something that, in human language, might have translated itself as an embrace.

“It’s okay now…” Minho whispered, gently resting a hand on his shoulder. He didn’t want to get too close, afraid that too much physical contact might overwhelm him. He still didn’t know how the boy would react.

“Min…” the boy nodded. “Yes, it’s me. It’s alright” he reassured him again, offering his hand. The alien took it weakly and Minho helped him back to his feet. Meanwhile Chan had clicked his tongue in irritation at the bullies and was now approaching the two.

“Are you both okay?”

“I think so” Minho answered for them both, his eyes scanning the boy’s body for any signs of bruises. There was a new one on his arm but maybe it had come from the fall the day before.

“How did you even get here..?” he then asked, his tone somewhere between scolding and gentle concern. The creature lowered his gaze, somehow understanding that he had done something wrong.

“And...who is he, exactly?” Chan asked, confused, looking back and forth between them.

“I’ve never seen him on campus before”

“Uhm…” Minho turned toward him, scratching the back of his neck.

“You remember that guy I told you about?” Chan looked at him, growing more and more confused.

“The one who fell out of the tree….”

“Ahhh he’s the one??” he shouted in surprise, pointing at the blonde. “What’s he doing here?”

“That’s exactly what I’d like to figure out…” Minho replied, glancing back at the boy, who still hadn’t let go of his hand.

“Chan, I really need to talk to you about this whole situation.” his expression had turned serious and the older boy began to worry.

“Sure. Let’s find somewhere quiet so you can explain everything”

Once the three of them found an empty classroom, they shut the door and gathered around the teacher’s desk.

“Are you two….together?”

“What? No!!” Minho’s voice shot up in surprise, completely caught off guard by the question.

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with liking boys, you know”

“Chan!” Minho hissed, his face burning with embarrassment.

“What? I’m your friend, you don’t need to be scared of me”

“That’s not it!! I’ve barely known him for a day, for god’s sake!”

The blonde turned toward Minho, sensing his rising anxiety, though he didn’t understand a word of what was being said. Still, the way Minho’s face flushed a soft red that he could see.

“If you’d just let me talk, I could explain” he placed a hand on his forehead, already exhausted and he hadn’t even started yet.

“You could say something too, you know – defend yourself. I swear, I don’t bite.” Chan said, finally addressing the alien. The boy blinked at him, confused and silent.

“Why’s he looking at me like that?” he asked, puzzled.

“I told you he doesn’t speak.” Minho sighed, turning his gaze back to the creature.

“Look at him, Chan. He doesn’t just not talk, he doesn’t even understand what we’re saying and I know what you’re probably about to say, that it’s a language barrier, but I’m telling you, it’s not that.” his words drew Chan’s full attention now “Whatever he sees, it’s like it’s for the first time, you know? When we met, he was terrified. I tried writing my name in a notebook but it seemed like he couldn’t even read. He doesn’t know what a phone is, doesn’t have one. No ID, nothing. I even showed him a video game, he didn’t know how to use a joystick. Isn’t that...weird?” he said it all in one breath.

“It’s definitely weird…” Chan agreed, leaning slightly to get a better look at the boy, who instinctively stepped back, suddenly self-conscious. Chan studied him for a moment, trying to speak, to connect somehow but received nothing in return.

“And yesterday, after I brought him home he just disappeared. Vanished.”

“Vanished? What do you mean?”

“Yeah...I went downstairs to get something to eat, and when I came back, the window was open. He was gone.”

“But your room’s on the second floor”

“Exactly. That’s what I don’t get either…”

“This kid is a mystery…” Chan murmured, eyeing him with growing curiosity.

“I don’t know what to do. Is it really possible he doesn’t have anyone? That no one’s looking for him? If I took him to the police….what would happen to him?” a thousand questions spun in Minho’s head each one unanswered, and each more unsettling than the last.

“But what if something’s wrong..?” Chan said softly. “What if he ran away from home and someone out there is desperately looking for him?”

Minho turned toward the blonde, who looked back at him in silence.

“You’re right...maybe I should take him there”

“I think that’s the best idea. Let me know if anything happens” he replied, then covered for Minho, telling the professor he was feeling unwell. He promised to take notes for him too.

“Are you okay?” Minho asked, turning to the boy beside him, noticing how distant his expression had become as though his mind had slipped somewhere unreachable.

“Right...you wouldn’t be able to answer me anyway.” he sighed. “But why did you come there…?” his voice trembled, tinged with quiet concern. “You could’ve gotten seriously hurt”

He searched for the boy’s eyes, desperate for something, anything, in return. The alien looked at him and Minho noticed it: a flicker of sadness, deep and still, hidden in his gaze.

Had he done something wrong?

“It doesn’t matter now...you’ll be safe” Minho whispered, stopping in front of the police station. “We’ll find your family and you’ll go back home”

The blonde stared at the building, counting the windows in silence. Minho had to tug gently on his sleeve to get him to move, but as they stepped forward a seed of doubt began to settle in his chest.

Wasn’t this the only option he had?

or…

was it?

 

Notes:

I hope you're enjoying this story <3

Chapter 5: Warm touch

Summary:

Minho takes the alien to the police, hoping to help - but regret strikes him the moment he sees the fear in the boy's eyes. Helpless, he watches as the frightened creature runs away once more, vanishing before him.

Minho had begun to truly regret that choice.

The blond boy sat still, uneasy, his eyes tracing the endless motion of people passing by, a river of lives he did not know. Now and then, his gaze slipped to the brown-haired boy whose arms gestured with a passion that bordered on desperation.

“No..I’m telling you, this isn’t a joke. I found this boy wandering the streets he doesn’t speak, he has no ID and I have no idea how to get him home.”

He looked exhausted. He pointed at the alien again and again and with each motion, the officer’s eyes flicked towards him, measuring, suspecting.

“Can you help me or not?”

Minho had always been a calm soul, patient, gentle, someone who avoided conflict, who spoke softly, if at all. But now, faced with cold stares and quiet accusations, he felt the ground shift beneath him. How could they think this was a prank? A childish trick, crafted like some mischief born out of boredom?

The man finally stood, reluctantly and gestured for the blond to follow. But the alien, still seated, still silent, did not move, as if his body had anchored itself to that chair.

“He doesn’t understand, I told you...let me handle it.” The older one’s voice grew sharp as he stepped closer to the blond. Sensing the tension radiating from him, the boy shrank back into the chair, frightened, like a cornered animal.

“I’m sorry...it’s not you I’m angry at.” As soon as Minho’s voice softened, the blonde relaxed and allowed the other to take his hand, a gesture that was slowly becoming familiar, almost instinctive. And yet, he still couldn’t explain it: that strange warmth that bloomed inside him every time their skin touched.
They entered the room together, accompanied by the officer, who asked them to wait for a few moments while he prepared the machine. Minho turned to the blond, offering him a small, gentle smile as if to say: everything will be fine. But the alien didn’t know what smiles were for. To him, they were simply odd shifts in expression, curves of lips that made humans look softer, kinder, perhaps. He didn’t understand why Minho smiled at him so often, or why those other boys had looked at him with eyes full of contempt. Humans were so complicated.

“It’s ready.” They were interrupted by the man, who returned with the fingerprint scanner, placing it on the desk with a soft thud.

“You need to place your thumb here and hold it still.” He explained, his voice flat from routine. But the alien only responded with a blank, distant stare, eyes like open sky, yet unreadable. The man turned toward Minho, who merely lifted his shoulders and gave a slight shake of his head, as if to say I told you so.

“Like this.” The man said, taking the alien’s hand and gently, but firmly, guiding it toward the scanner. But there was something in that touch, a hint of coldness, a flicker of frustration and the alien felt it. Felt it like a jolt. He pulled his hand back, frightened.

“I didn’t think taking fingerprints would be this difficult.” The officer muttered with a sigh, letting it go. He didn’t want to use force, not with him, not tonight. He had no energy left to be angry at boys who looked more lost than guilty.
The alien stared at the machine, afraid. It was nothing like the technology he knew, cold, unfamiliar, its purpose a mystery. He didn’t know what it would do to him and yet, seeing Minho calm by his side had almost been enough to convince him. He still remembered that moment, Minho’s furrowed brow, the tension in his posture, the sharpness in his voice when he’d confronted the humans who had been bothering him. For a moment, he hadn’t recognized him. He’d even felt a flicker of fear. Maybe, he thought, Minho changed when he sensed danger just like he did. When fear made him run.

“Look.” Minho’s voice cut softly through his thoughts, drawing his gaze. The brown-haired boy placed his own thumb on the scanner, holding it still for a few seconds until the computer let out a faint beep, a sound of completion, of harmless function.

“He doesn’t hurt.” He lifted his hand and showed it to him, unharmed, fingers steady, unmarked. The alien looked at the thumb, then the scanner, then back at Minho.

“It’s not dangerous, you can trust it.” Minho spoke as if the words mattered, even knowing how useless they might be. Still, he hoped, hoped that maybe, his voice alone could be enough to quiet the fear lingering in those unfamiliar eyes.

“Do you want me to help you?” Minho asked, his fingers just barely brushing the alien’s hand, a touch so gentle it made him turn, his expression unreadable. If that invitation meant being taken by the hand, if it meant feeling that strange warmth spread through his palm again, then the alien didn’t move a muscle. He didn’t resist. He silently admitted to himself that he still preferred Soonie’s soft fur, but there was something about Minho’s hands, their warmth, that made him feel accepted. Wanted, so Minho took him gently by the wrist and guided his hand toward the scanner, placing his finger on the surface. The blond closed his eyes shutting out the world in front of him, as if blocking the sight could keep away the panic another alien device might bring. Minho watched him in silence, then placed a hand behind his back, a quiet reassurance. It was the longest minute of his life. He didn’t even know what the test was for.

What if it was dangerous? What if it was meant to control him somehow? What if it changed something inside him?

A thousand doubts swirled in his mind, whispers growing louder. But the memory of Minho doing it first, calm, unharmed, kept the fear at bay.

“...That’s strange.” The officer muttered.

“What is it?” Minho asked, concern rising in his voice.

“The scanner didn’t find any match in the database.” What the officer didn’t know was that the boy didn’t belong to that world and he certainly didn’t have real fingerprints. The machine simply couldn’t read what wasn’t human.

“Maybe...maybe he didn’t place his finger right.” Minho tried, searching for a reasonable explanation. But the man shook his head.

“Impossible. He held it there for minutes. The system found nothing...where did you say you found him?” Minho swallowed. Maybe bringing him to the police hadn’t been such a good idea after all. He had only wanted to help to find his family, to bring him home.

“I met him on the street…” he said softly. The tension in the room thickened and the alien could feel it. It pressed on him like a storm cloud, heavy and quiet.

“He could be anything….I’m going to need to keep you here a little longer.” The officer admitted, then added more firmly: “Wait here.” He left the room, the door clicking soft behind him.

The blond looked completely lost like a frightened animal, a pup who’d strayed too far from the path and couldn’t find the way back.

“We’ll figure it out...you’ll see.” Minho tried to comfort him, forcing a smile he hoped would ease the weight settling in the alien’s chest.

“I need to register him somehow, so we’ll take some photos and proceed with facial recognition.” The officer explained as he returned, before ushering them into a different room. The creature struggled to keep their quick pace, his steps uncertain, his gaze flickering nervously. He kept his eyes low, staring at his feet, trying to avoid meeting the eyes of the people they passed. He only lifted his head when he bumped into Minho’s back. He hadn’t noticed they had stopped in front of a door, too caught up trying to escape the world swirling around him. Minho turned around, asking softly if he was okay. He knew he wouldn’t get a reply but he didn’t need one. He could read everything in those deep, unsettled eyes.

“Alright, I need him to stand in front of the wall and stay still. Do you think you can explain it to him?” The officer took his place behind the camera, adjusting the lens. Minho wasn’t sure he could, but he walked him over anyway, gently guiding him to the wall. He placed his hands on his shoulders and helped him rest against the cold surface. The chill against his back made the creature flinch, his face twisting into a grimace, another sensation he didn’t know how to name, but already knew he didn’t like.

“You have to stay here just for a moment” Minho said gently, attempting to step away. But the alien followed him. Minho guided him back to his place, trying once more to make him understand what was happening. By the third time, the officer lost his patience, his voice rising just enough to frighten the creature, who shrank against the wall, small and trembling.

“I’m right here, it’ll be over in a second, I promise” Minho murmured reassuringly, placing a finger under the blond’s chin and lifting his face. “You need to look straight ahead, or they won’t be able to get a proper photo.” His golden eyes locked with the creature’s dark ones. That soft touch on his skin burned like fire, a strange, tingling heat left a mark without leaving a trace. The creature watched as Minho stepped away, his lips parted in confusion. Minho positioned himself behind the officer, hoping the blond would naturally look in that direction and he did. The officer finally managed to take a photo, but as soon as the flash lit up the room, the alien flinched violently, collapsing to the floor with a whimper, curling in on himself, small and shaken. Minho rushed to his side at once, running a soothing hand across his back, before turning sharply toward the man.

“I don’t want to jump to dark conclusions, but the fact that he doesn’t speak, has no identity, and seems terrified of everything...it almost makes me think he’s been abused his whole life. Maybe even sold by his family before he was even registered anywhere.” The words came too easily from the officer’s mouth. Maybe he was used to such horrors, maybe he’d seen them too many times. But for Minho, the thought alone twisted his stomach into knots and clenched his heart in a cold, merciless grip. Suddenly, everything began to make kind of terrible sense. Maybe that’s why the blond had been hiding in that tree. Maybe that’s why he looked so utterly afraid of the world.

“Perhaps we should run some tests at the hospital just to confirm where he might be from, while we continue searching the databases for a match.” The officer added with a tired sigh. Minho turned his eyes back to the blond, still trembling under the gentle weight of his hand. He wished, desperately, that he could pull him into an embrace, tell him it was going to be okay but he couldn’t. Not only because the boy wouldn’t understand, but because Minho didn’t want to scare him even more. So he did the only thing he could. He stayed by his side, quiet and steady, his hand moving slowly across his back, offering comfort from a careful distance.

“I understand...I’ll take him there tomorrow. Right now doesn’t feel like the right time.” Minho replied softly, helping the blond to his feet.

“Alright. Wait just a moment outside while I prepare a few documents to sign.”

Minho guided the alien out of the room and had him sit beside him on a bench in the corridor. His face was pale, drained, his gaze lost somewhere far beyond the walls.

“We’ll find a way…” Minho whispered, brushing a long strand of blond hair from his face. The creature turned towards him, his eyes seemed to carry a thousand words but what passed between them was only silence. Long, heavy silence.

More than half an hour slipped by. They had been kept waiting so long that the sunset had crept up without warning. The day was folding in on itself. The alien began to feel something sting beneath his skin, a sensation he couldn’t place, a discomfort that grew sharper with every passing minute. He didn’t know what time it was, but his body did. It knew something was wrong. Pain bloomed across his chest, a searing jolt that stole his breath. Instinctively, he reached out, clinging to Minho’s hoodie with trembling fingers. Minho turned to him sharply, worried, his heart stuttering at the sudden grip.

“Is something wrong?” He asked, alarmed, as he watched the blond struggle to breathe. “Hey...what’s happening?” His voice grew sharper with worry as the grip on his hoodie tightened, but before he could call out to anyone, the alien broke into a sudden, clumsy run down the corridor. Minho didn’t hesitate he rushed after him, weaving past guards, nearly tripping over his own feet. He burst through the doors of the station, but outside, there was no one.

“Please...not again..” he whispered, eyes scanning the street in a rising panic.

“Wait – kid!” A voice called behind him, the officer trying to stop him, but Minho was already gone, sprinting down the steps.

“I can’t believe he vanished...he runs so fast..” Minho muttered breathlessly, bent over, hands on his knees, trying to breathe. “Where could he have gone...and why did he run?” He cursed softly between one gasp and the next, guilt crawling up his spine. He searched the neighborhood again and again for over an hour ducking into shadowed alleys, peering behind dumpsters, checking every narrow corner and hidden space. But there was no sign of the blonde. Not even a trace. The guilt gnawed at him: for not watching closely enough, for bringing him to the police and putting him through so much. That final, desperate look the boy had given him, it haunted him now. He hadn’t done anything to help, and now, who knew where he had gone?

Alone. Again.

“Maybe...maybe he runs away during the day and is forced to return home at night…” he tried to convince himself, but the weight on his chest refused to lift. He returned home two hours later, completely ignoring the police station where he was supposed to sign the papers. He wasn’t sure he ever wanted to go back there. He wasn’t even sure about the hospital anymore. It was strange no one had come looking for that boy, he just wandered alone in that state. Everything felt absurd and Minho didn’t want to be a part of that story. Not like that. He didn’t want to “help” if it meant uncovering a life full of pain and tragedy. If that was the prize for doing the right thing, he’d rather hide him in his room, keep him safe. It was a reckless thought, he knew, his mother would never agree to it. But the more he remembered those deep, silent eyes, the more his heart whispered the same thing over and over: protect him.

Minho skipped dinner, collapsed onto his mattress, exhausted. A coughing fit stirred in his chest again, but he crawled under the covers, trying to sleep.

Sleep, however, did not come easily. The night dragged on, carried by the weight of nightmares.

“Minho….” A voice. Soft. Distant. It echoed through his dream, calling him back. On the third time, he opened his eyes, his breath catching, his heart racing. He was in his bed, safe. He sighed and sat up slowly, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

“What is it?” He groaned.

“There’s someone at the door.” His mother said, a little unsettled. Minho paled, he feared it was the police. She couldn’t know, she mustn’t know anything. He begged her to stay back, to say nothing, to wait, then rushed downstairs. He checked that she wasn’t near the entrance, then, with his heart pounding in his ears, he flung open the door. What he saw wasn’t what he’d expected. He had prepared apologies, excuses for fleeing the station, lies to cover up his mess. But they all melted away in an instant.

There he was, the boy, standing in the soft light of early morning.

Without a second thought, Minho closed the distance between them and wrapped him up in a desperate, aching embrace.

Chapter 6: Heartbeat

Summary:

Minho and the alien spent the day studying together. As he patiently taught the alphabet, the alien’s hesitant yet tender gestures slowly deepened the quiet bond growing between them.

Minho wrapped the alien’s body in his arms, holding on tenderly to the fabric of his hoodie, his hands sinking into its softness. He rested his chin on his shoulder, clutching him close as if afraid he might slip away once more, like grains of sand between his fingers. The blond stood still, rooted to the spot, trying to decipher the meaning of that embrace. Minho’s body was warm, gentle almost like the strange creature that had brushed against him only a few days before. Something inside his chest beat with a slow, eternal rhythm, echoing against his ribs.

“Where have you been…?” asked the elder, pulling back just enough to look at his face, breaking the contact for fear of frightening him. “I couldn’t find you anywhere…” he whispered, holding him by the shoulders, his eyes searching the blond’s frame for wounds or bruises.

“I was… I was worried,” he admitted, a faint sigh escaping his lips as his gaze fell on yet another scratch across his face. He prayed in silence that it was nothing more than coincidence, and not one of the dark conclusions his mind had begun to draw. “Come inside… it’s cold out here,” Minho murmured, guiding him gently into the house with a soft push on his shoulder.

The alien shrank into himself, smaller than he already was, and followed him in. Soonie greeted the blond by brushing against his legs, meowing without pause. “He really likes you, doesn’t he…” Minho smiled tenderly, crouching down to scoop the little creature into his arms. “Come on, let’s bring him to the room with us,” he said, leading the way. The other, hesitant yet obedient, mirrored his steps. They climbed the stairs, and once more, after walking down the familiar corridor, they entered Minho’s room. For a moment, silence reigned between them, until Minho gestured for him to sit on the bed. Unlike him, Minho settled into the chair with the cat curled in his lap, his gaze lingering on the alien across from him, watching, contemplating. The blond’s eyes spoke in place of words: confusion, fear, and a touch of melancholy. Soonie leapt down and padded over to the younger one, jumping onto the bed to keep him company. He rubbed against his arm, purring, before climbing into his lap and pressing his little head against his chest. The blond lifted his hands uncertainly, unsure whether to touch him, lowering his gaze to the small creature perched on his thighs. Soonie meowed again, insistent in his plea for affection. The alien felt those sounds as a strange, unknown request. The last time he had tried to touch him, he had pulled away in fear of hurting him. Yet Soonie had returned, stubbornly claiming that timid contact. Minho’s furrowed expression softened, and a smile bloomed across his face at the tender sight: the blond had finally laid a hand on Soonie’s small head, stroking him. His touch was so delicate, it seemed as though he feared he might break him. Minho leaned his elbow against the desk behind him, his palm pressed to his cheek, and lost himself in watching the two of them nestled against each other.

The alien grew slowly accustomed to the movement, to the sensation of running his fingers through the cat’s soft fur; it was satisfying, soothing, and he found himself wearing an expression he hadn’t even known he was capable of. When Minho saw that smile bloom across his face, his own heart skipped, thundering faster in his chest.

“Where have you been until now…?” he whispered, unable to fathom how someone his age could seem so unfamiliar with the world. The alien lifted his gaze, sensing those fragile words, and at last their eyes met, amber against uncertain light. Minho sighed, pushing himself up from the chair, and pointed a finger toward the pair.

“Soonie, keep an eye on him. I’ll go get something to eat,” he said, as if the cat could truly carry out his command. “And you, don’t you dare move,” he warned, his voice sharper than usual.

The alien flinched, pulling back and clutching the cat to his chest, using him unconsciously as a shield. Minho gave him one last look before dashing out of the room, intent on bringing him the pudding from last time. He flew down the stairs so fast he nearly stumbled three times. Breathless, he returned, closing the door behind him with a sigh of relief.

“Good thing I made it in time…” he murmured, still catching his breath. The younger tilted his head in confusion. With two little cups in hand and a pair of spoons, Minho sat beside him. He offered one box with a tilt of his head, but the alien hesitated, preferring to keep his hands buried in Soonie’s warm fur.

“I promise you, it’s delicious,” Minho coaxed, shaking the container gently so the jelly quivered within. “But if you don’t like it… well… I suppose I can live with that,” he admitted, a rare hint of difficulty in his voice.

The blond’s eyes flickered to his, then lingered curiously on the colorful treat. After a long moment, he reached out, lifting the small cup to study it intently, turning it in his hands before bringing it closer to his face. Minho stifled a laugh at the sight, then opened his own cup, instantly greeted by the sweet scent of caramel. The alien watched and tried to imitate him, fumbling clumsily with the tab, nearly spilling it over himself. Gently, Minho took it from his hands, peeled back the cover, and returned it to him, passing him a spoon with an encouraging nod. He dipped his own spoon into the quivering jelly and raised it to his lips, savoring it as if for the very first time. A hum escaped him as he closed his eyes, his arms gesturing wide in exaggerated delight, as though each taste was ecstasy itself. The alien looked at him, then back at his own dessert, eyeing it with quiet suspicion.

What would become of it once swallowed? What if his body rejected it? What exactly was it, and why did humans need such things?

A flood of questions stormed through his mind, only to dissolve into silence the instant he lifted a spoonful to his lips. What followed was nothing but emptiness. He felt the gelatinous substance move within him, but no taste, no scent reached him. It was like eating air. Curiosity, rather than pleasure, drove him to try again, yet nothing changed.

“So?!” Minho asked, his voice bubbling with excitement as he turned toward him. “Do you like it?”

The alien shrugged, his eyes drifting to Minho cheeks puffed, expression brimming with delight as he savored every bite. He seemed so blissful that the blond could almost imagine tasting it too, swept up by his joy. Before he realized it, his own pudding was gone, and he turned instinctively toward Minho, as if seeking approval. Minho had been watching him all along. He’d finished his own in a flash, devouring it, and lingered only to study the other’s every reaction.

“I’m glad you liked it,” he said warmly, reaching out to brush away a trace of cream from his lips. The alien froze, neither resisting nor recoiling, the touch was too soft, too serene.

“You had a little something,” Minho explained casually, turning his attention to the cat, who had now found a safe haven in the alien’s lap. His hand drifted to scratch the little ears, his body leaning gently against the other’s. They stayed like that, in silence, for several long minutes.

“Min…” the alien whispered at last, making the elder turn his head sharply.

“What is it?” Minho asked, searching his eyes for answers that words refused to give. The blond glanced toward the television, then back to him.

“Huh? You want to play?” Minho blinked in confusion. The alien didn’t respond, but his gaze lingered on the joystick resting on the desk, his intent clear enough. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” Minho sighed, rising from the bed and startling Soonie with his movement.

“First you run, then you follow me, then you vanish, then I drag you to the police and you escape again, then you come back and the first thing you want to do is play?” His tone wasn’t annoyed; it was amused, incredulous, tinged with affection. “You’re unbelievable,” he chuckled, met only by the other’s lost expression.

Minho handed him the controller and, under that pretext, tried to teach him a word.

“Pink. P-i-n-k” he said, pointing to the square button.

“Pi..n” the blond stammered, struggling to imitate him.

“Yes, almost! pink, with the final 'k’ Pin-k!” Minho encouraged, his eyes gleaming with anticipation.

“Pin…k,” he repeated haltingly.

“Yes, again!”

“Pink…” This time the word flowed more naturally. Minho leapt from the bed in triumph, startling the poor cat.

“Perfect! You’re amazing,” he praised, smiling wide.

The alien looked at him in silence, as if turning something over in his mind.

“Pi...nk Minho…,” he said, stringing together the only two words he knew. Minho’s eyes sparkled as though he had just won a lottery ticket. Emotion swelled in his chest before spilling into laughter. Perhaps, just perhaps, he could really teach him to speak. While the blond played, Minho began scribbling the entire alphabet into a notebook, determined to make him memorize it all before the day was done.

“No more games, or your eyes will hurt,” he scolded lightly, pausing the match and slipping the controller from his hands. The alien frowned, wordless, then rose and followed his steps as he returned to the bed. This time, Minho carried a notebook much like the one he had once shown in his first attempt to bridge the distance between them.

“Well then,” Minho began, sitting cross-legged at the foot of the bed, the notebook placed between them. “You have to repeat after me, letter by letter, okay?”

The blond tilted his head in confusion but copied him, folding his legs the same way and leaning forward to study the tiny symbols etched onto the page.

“I’ll say them one at a time,” Minho warned, clearing his throat. “Are you ready?” he asked one last time, though he knew no answer would come, before pronouncing the first letter: A.

The alien’s head tipped to the side, uncertainty swimming in his dark eyes as he studied the page. He had heard that letter before, so repeating it came easily. The difficulty began afterward, when the letters multiplied. They spent the whole morning bent over that notebook, Minho teaching patiently, his voice steady and warm, and the alien stumbling over the sounds, trying again and again, mistakes spilling from his lips.

“a, b, c… l, m…” he attempted, stringing them together, until Minho stopped him gently and made him start over.

“You’re doing great, don’t worry,” the elder encouraged, afraid the other might grow restless, but to his surprise, he never gave up. He tried, and tried again, never defeated by failure. Anyone else would have quit, consumed by frustration, perhaps flinging the notebook away but not him. For his part, Minho, too, was not one to lose patience. He never tired of repeating each letter with him.

“Try writing my name,” he suggested, handing him the pencil. The alien held it curiously, setting it to paper, leaving a dark trace of graphite before snapping the tip and flinching.

“Ah… not so hard. You just have to brush the page,” Minho explained, sharpening it again before guiding the blond’s hand across the paper. “Like this, see?” he said softly, releasing his hand, ignoring once more the fact that the other had no real grasp of how a pencil worked. The alien scribbled at first, then paused, carefully observing the letters and beginning to understand their form. He started with an M, recalling its sound in his mind, followed by an I, then an N.

“Min…” he whispered, lifting his gaze from the page to find Minho’s eyes fixed on him.

“That’s right…” Minho breathed, lips parting as if to say more, caught for a moment in the depths of his gaze. “But something’s still missing…” he added, shaking his head lightly, returning his focus to the page, his finger tracing the letters, brushing against the other’s hand.

The alien looked at him in puzzlement, then added an O, drawing a smile from Minho.

“There should be an H before that,” he suggested, taking the pencil and adding the missing letter. The blond studied the page intently, then tried again, this time shaping the word fully.

“Minho.”

A strange flutter stirred in his stomach when he heard the blond pronounce his name. His voice was slowly taking shape; low and husky, still imperfect, still hesitant yet so warm, so sweet.

“Yes… good,” Minho smiled again, only for his mother to burst into the room, startling them both.

“Ah, Minho, sorry! I didn’t know you had invited a friend over. You could have told me!” she scolded gently, her eyes darting from one to the other.

“Sorry, Mom… we were studying, and I forgot to mention it,” he lied, scratching the back of his neck, catching the other’s gaze, uncertain and restless.

The alien had instinctively snatched the notebook from the bed the moment the door had flung open, clutching it to his chest as a shield. It was a reflex he had learned after his last experience.

“All right, but it’s almost lunchtime, and I wasn’t expecting company.”

“Don’t worry, Mom, we’ll eat outside,” Minho said quickly, standing up and deciding on the spot.

“Oh, good then. I’ll leave you be,” she smiled before closing the door.

Minho exhaled in relief, then turned to him with sudden laughter. He didn’t even know why his mother’s sudden entrance had made him so nervous, it wasn’t like they were doing anything wrong. “Well, I think we’ve studied enough. Let’s go for a walk,” he suggested, holding out his hand.

The blond still hugged the notebook against his chest, looking puzzled. Minho stepped closer to help him up, but the alien didn’t release his grip.

“You want to bring it with you?” Minho asked, amused, waiting for a gesture as an answer.

“All right then, let’s go,” he agreed, pulling gently at his arm, until he realized he was still in his pajamas.

“Oh, right… maybe I should change first, what do you think?” he laughed awkwardly, embarrassed. “Just… don’t look, okay?” he pleaded pointlessly. He knew the other couldn’t understand, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave him alone in the room, not with the fear that he might vanish again. Taking a deep breath, he approached the alien, placed his hands on his shoulders, and turned him toward the wall.

“Stay like this, please…”

The blond let himself be guided without protest, but instinctively turned back, only to be gently redirected again, Minho’s hand pressing softly against his cheek. “Please,” he whispered, his voice carrying a tone unlike any before. The alien stilled, unsettled by the sudden change in atmosphere.

“I’ll be quick, I promise,” Minho added, letting his hand slip from his face as he stepped away to choose his clothes. He did feel safe around him, safer than he had ever expected, but not safe enough to banish his anxieties. The alien stared quietly at the wall, tracing the cracks in its surface, until his eyes caught a small creature in the farthest corner: a spider, balancing on its delicate, transparent web.

“All done,” Minho’s voice pulled him back, fingers tapping lightly on his shoulder. “Ta-daa!” he announced proudly, showing off his outfit.

The blond turned slowly, blinking, while Minho offered a faint smile before lowering his gaze to the tips of his shoes.

“Thanks for not turning around…” he murmured, his words so fragile that they left a strange ache in the alien’s chest. Without thinking, he stepped closer and brushed his shoulder softly against Minho’s.

“What…” Minho’s voice caught in his throat, but before he could finish, the blond rested his head against his chest, listening to the quickened rhythm of his heart.

 

 

Chapter 7: Flower

Summary:

Minho takes the alien with him, showing him his favorite places, before discovering a shocking truth

 

Minho was completely taken aback by that gesture, frozen in place, unable to react. He knew that boy was unpredictable, but he never expected him to seek physical contact, he had never done that before. On the contrary, he always seemed so scared and distant whenever someone got close. The alien pressed his face gently against Minho’s chest, his soft hair tickling his chin and making him smile. His cheeks flushed pink, and his eyes darted everywhere except at him.

“Are… you okay…?” Minho asked, embarrassed, feeling his heart race uncontrollably. The blond moved back slightly at the sound of his voice, looking up at him with his wide, dark eyes fixed on the human.

“What… is it? Are you not feeling well?” The older one tried to understand, avoiding eye contact, unable to maintain it with that adorable creature. The alien didn’t understand, but he sensed the tension in Minho’s words and finally stepped away from his body, still clutching the notebook as if it were a comfort.

“Min…” He murmured, raising a finger toward Minho’s chest, touching the spot where his heart wouldn’t stop racing. Minho took his hand and gently moved it aside, scratching the back of his head in embarrassment.

“It’s nothing… let’s go.” He pulled him along, trying to ignore the awkwardness of the moment. He guided him to the door, holding his hand, and as soon as they stepped outside, he let go, his heart still desperate to calm down. Clearing his throat, he gestured for the alien to follow him.

In silence, they crossed the street, the sound of cars echoing behind them. The alien, unused to the city’s noise, flinched at every sudden sound, clinging to Minho’s hoodie. Noticing this, Minho adjusted their route, taking quieter streets. Along the way, he showed the alien different things, trying to teach him their names. Finally, they stopped in front of a garden. Minho crouched down by the grass and picked a daisy.

“See? That’s what happens when you press that pink button.” He explained, standing up and offering him the flower, hoping he would understand. The alien watched the small, colorful object in his hands with curiosity; he had seen many around the planet but didn’t know they could be picked, nor did he understand their purpose. With careful fingers, he reached for it and held it up to his face to examine it more closely.

“Flower,” Minho pronounced slowly, pointing to the daisy. The creature tried to imitate the sound, failing several times. He twirled the stem between his fingers, focused.

“Flo…wer,” He finally whispered, and a gentle smile unfurled on the major’s face, softening his features. Then he picked another flower and stepped closer to the alien, carefully tucking it into his hair, letting it rest among the golden strands. He stepped back, admiring his work and let out a quiet, tender laugh. The blond looked at him, puzzled, not quite understanding, and Minho lifted his phone as a mirror, showing him his reflection now adorned with the delicate daisy. The alien studied the image for a long, thoughtful moment, then glanced at his own flower. Slowly, he reached out, mimicking the gesture, and nestled it among his brown hair. Minho’s eyes widened, blinking in surprise, cheeks tinged with warmth and frustration all at once. A shy, almost hesitant smile curved his lips, and to preserve this fleeting intimacy, he captured the tender moment on his phone, a little memory of their first outing together. He drew the alien close and snapped the photo, then gently put the phone away. 

After their brief pause, they resumed walking and arrived at Minho’s favorite restaurant just in time for lunch. They entered together, climbing the small steps that led to the main hall, and approached the waitress to reserve a table. The alien looked around, blinking, his mouth slightly open at the sight: the ceiling was decorated with flowering branches and red lanterns, casting a soft, relaxing glow. Warm little lights hung among the branches, illuminating the wooden tables and creating an intimate atmosphere. At the far end, trees adorned with fairy lights added a festive and romantic touch without being excessive. The tables were decorated with small candles, making the ambiance even more magical.

“Do you like it?” Minho asked, tapping gently on the other’s arm to catch his attention. The alien, lost in the enchanting surroundings, turned toward him and gazed intently, as if trying to say something, but a crowd of people passed by, noisy and numerous, reminding him of the incident at the university, and he became frightened. He hid behind the human, hands gripping his shoulders, face pressed to his back. Minho protected him with an arm, holding him close, and once the crowd thinned, guided him to a table at the far end of the room, away from the commotion. They sat across from each other, menus in front of them. Minho didn’t bother reading, as the restaurant offered a fixed-price buffet, allowing unlimited servings. He picked up the tablet and began scrolling through the dishes, showing the most colorful and unusual ones to the alien, who didn’t understand their purpose at all. He then ordered freely, intending to let the other taste every possible delicacy.

Meanwhile, the blond admired the cherry blossoms above their heads, curious, they had a different color and structure compared to the daisies; in a way, they were like humans, similar yet distinct.

“Flower,” he pronounced, pointing at them, making Minho lift his eyes to follow his gaze.

“Very good!!” Minho praised him, gesturing for him to open the notebook he continued to hold protectively in his arms. “Try writing it,” he said, pointing at the page.

“Do you remember the alphabet?” he asked before repeating it from the beginning once more. The alien followed along and then pressed the pencil onto the notebook, etching the graphite into the page and perfectly reproducing the word. Minho complimented him again and tried to teach him more words in the meantime, creating a mini glossary together that grouped all the vocabulary they had learned so far.

“Time to eat.” The human rubbed his hands impatiently, eyeing the colorful plate now in front of him, an elegant arrangement of compact rice bites wrapped in premium raw fish, seaweed, and delicate garnishes. The alien watched him break the two chopsticks and grab them with curiosity.

“What?” Minho stopped, holding a roll between the sticks. “Don’t tell me you’ve never eaten sushi before…” he exclaimed, eyes wide and blinking, then reminded himself that everything seemed new to this boy. He pointed at the chopsticks, inviting the other to take them, and the alien picked them up gently from the table, trying to imitate his movements. He stretched his arms, pulling them clumsily with little strength, and when they snapped apart with a sharp sound, he opened his eyes in surprise. He tried to grab a roll, but it slipped several times, his expression frustrated, cheeks puffed out.

Minho watched him, amused and touched, and reached out to adjust his posture, positioning his fingers correctly, fitting the chopstick between his fingertips. “Like this,” he said, guiding him toward the plate, helping him pick up the bite and bring it to his mouth. The alien chewed silently, not recognizing the taste, showing no reaction. Minho smiled and, without asking any questions, helped him once more, until he finally mastered the technique.

“You learn fast,” he praised, savoring his own portion with pure enjoyment. He was used to talking a lot with his mother and friends during meals, so having this quiet around him for once didn’t bother him at all. The alien’s company was particularly pleasant; he didn’t feel the need to force a conversation, on the contrary, he felt free to just be himself.

“I want to take you somewhere,” he said, standing up from the table, excited. Knowing how uncomfortable chaos made him feel, he decided to bring him to the park to show him the pond inhabited by swans and fish of every kind, a place he had loved since childhood. Together they crossed the city, the daisies still resting in their hair. The alien didn’t notice that detail at all, and Minho didn’t care if they were seen that way, he was more concerned that the blond might be upset if he removed it.

They walked along the sidewalk in silence, the echo of their steps following them, the rustle of leaves all around. Minho turned toward the alien several times, stealing the occasional furtive glance; he held the notebook tightly against his chest, his steps irregular, zigzagging, eyes wandering, distracted by the moving nature, the birds hopping from tree to tree, the wind carrying the leaves, and the city lights sparkling like stars above. Everything was new to him, even the asphalt under his feet or the presence of Minho himself. His world had been lonely, silent, devoid of contact or communication; he simply couldn’t get used to Earth.

He climbed onto the low wall, walking along it, watching Minho from above like a child who feels taller than his parent, then suddenly stopped. His eyes locked onto the pond unfolding before them, the sunlight filtered through the leaves reflecting on its surface. The water shimmered, illuminating the creatures within, and revealing a majestic white swan gliding proudly across the ripples. The alien jumped down from the wall and approached the pond, leaning over the wooden railing, following with his eyes the rainbow whirl of koi swimming below.

“Do you like it?” Minho asked, watching his reaction with more than enough satisfaction. The blond seemed particularly captivated by the creatures, and the two of them stayed observing the pond for several minutes before moving on.

“There’s something I want you to try,” he said, motioning for him to follow. The alien cast one last glance at the swan before following the human toward a strange wooden structure set into the grassy area; a seat hung from ropes, swaying gently in the wind.

“Swing,” Minho pronounced, sitting on it and beginning to rock back and forth. The alien watched intently, not understanding how it worked, and for a moment it almost seemed as if Minho were flying.

“Come on, try it yourself!” he shouted before slowing down, dragging his feet along the ground to stop. The creature reached him, sitting beside him, hands gripping the ropes, back straight, feet planted on the ground. He mimicked Minho’s movements, but at first it was difficult. Minho pointed to his own legs, suggesting he follow the motion. He stretched them at first, then bent them again, swinging forward.

“Let’s try it this way,” he said, stepping off the swing and positioning himself behind the blond. With a gentle push on his back, he set him in motion, startling him at first, then placed his hand over his and wrapped it around the chains.

“Hold on tight, and remember your legs, move them, or you’ll end up stuck on the ground,” he repeated, touching the alien’s legs before returning to push him slowly. The alien had already learned the steps, but couldn’t move at first; now, with Minho’s guidance, he managed to keep the rhythm on his own.

“Very good! Keep pushing!” the older one encouraged, running alongside him and sharing in the fun. The alien felt almost at home, his feet floating above the ground, the emptiness beneath him, the lightness of his body cutting through the air. It felt like he was closer to the sky, a truly delightful sensation. A smile appeared on his face, and Minho didn’t miss it for the world. Once he gained confidence, they had a sort of contest to see who could swing higher, but Minho let the blond win, he seemed so excited and together they finally got off the swing as the afternoon wore on. Minho hadn’t remembered a day so relaxing and carefree in a long time.

“It’s getting late, let’s go home,” he suggested, watching the sun slowly hide behind the mountains, a bad omen for the alien, who began to feel his body stiffen. Silently, he nodded, ignoring the discomfort, and followed the human back along the path. He was happy; he hadn’t felt like this in a long time. He didn’t want this moment to be replaced by the sadness of loneliness, didn’t want to let go of Minho’s hand, now intertwined with his, guiding him home. Yet with every step, the pain grew sharper. He had never wondered about the consequences of this phenomenon and didn’t know what would happen if he ignored these signals for too long.

“Min…” he finally moaned, unable to bear it any longer. He stopped on the road, their hands now separated by the pain.

“What’s wrong?” Minho asked, concerned, bending toward him, visibly distressed. He needed to escape, but didn’t want Minho to find out, so he tried to push him away with all his strength before turning and running.

“Wait!” Minho shouted, standing and chasing after him. He rounded the corner, ready to catch him, but what he saw froze him in place, changing the course of his life entirely. The boy had vanished into the shadows, and a shining glow, like a falling star, had risen into the sky, disappearing into space. Their eyes had met for a brief instant before he vanished, leaving the memory of his regretful expression imprinted in the human’s mind.

“What… did I just see…?”

 

 

 

 

Notes:

English is not my first language so please be gentle I will try my best, hope you like it ♡