go get ‘em, tiger
Title: go get ‘em, tiger
Pairing(s): HanChul, KryBer
Genre(s): Pseudo!romance, psychological, Calvin & Hobbes AU, kid!fic
Length: 5283 words
Rating: G
Summary: Heechul was six years old when he found a stuffed tiger on his doorstep.
Inspiration(s): Calvin & Hobbes was one of my favorite comic strips when I was a little kid. Still is. Dedicated to samuel_evans, who gave me a very uplifting message some time ago. Thank you!
```
Heechul was six years old when he found a stuffed tiger on his doorstep. There was a note attached to it, the tape so weak that a slight breeze would have sent it floating away. Hello, my name is Han Geng, it read, Please take care of me. Heechul picked the tiger up, dusted it off, and smiled. "Hello, Han Geng," he greeted with his wide toothy smile. "My name is Kim Heechul."
And suddenly the stuffed tiger was a real tiger in all its fierce and powerful glory. Heechul was not afraid, not afraid at all. Yellow eyes turned to the six-year-old and blinked slowly. Nice to meet you, Kim Heechul, the tiger growled, sharp white teeth glistening in the sunlight.
Heechul stared, transfixed at his newfound friend's all-encompassing power. "Do you want to play with me?" he asked, his innocent eyes wide with awe and astonishment.
I would do anything with you, Han Geng replied easily, stretching and giving an experimental flick of his long striped tail.
"Great! Let's play tag! You're it!"
"I hate school," Heechul grumbled after his mother had successfully pulled him out of bed. "Dad says that school is the place where children like me learn and become educated, but I never feel like I learn anything at school."
Why not?
The six-year-old grimaced, nose crinkling in distaste. "We only learn about useless things like Math and equations and History and Chemistry. What about the important things? Why can't we learn how to defeat Adolf Hitler, or how to stop the bigger kids from bullying the smaller kids, or how to make the perfect chocolate chip cookie? Isn't that more important than learning that three minus two equals one?"
Han Geng rested his head on his gigantic front paws, lazily stretched out on Heechul's bedroom rug. You learned about Adolf Hitler in History, though. History is important, then.
"Maybe a little bit. But we only learned that what Adolf Hitler did was wrong, but everybody knows that already. It is not right to kill people: that's merely common sense. They didn't tell us what we could do to stop what he did. They only told us the dates of when it happened and the places where it happened. But honestly, who cares when and where it happened? It's not as if it made a difference! Even if it was in Africa, the same thing would have happened eventually, right?"
Perhaps. Perhaps not.
"I just don't understand," Heechul grumbled, reluctantly shrugging out of his favorite Star Wars pajamas, the one that was decorated with red and blue light sabers. "There is no use in learning that hydrogen and oxygen makes water. Water is water, and that's that. If the teachers taught us how to stop the bigger kids from bullying the smaller kids, then nobody would get hurt at school and I wouldn’t come home without any lunch money. But they don't teach us all of that, and whenever we try to ask them to, they tell us to go away."
Maybe they don't know how to teach you how to stop bullying, Han Geng offered.
"Then they're crappy teachers." Heechul concluded, giggling belatedly at his choice of words. Swear words were only used sparingly, and only when Mom was not listening. The last time he used the word "crappy" in front of her, he was banned from watching Adventure Time for a week.
At his mother's calling, Heechul scampered downstairs, barely managing to untangle himself from his t-shirt and finally find the correct hole to put his left arm through. The rustle of a cereal box reached his ears, and he grinned. "Come on, Han Geng, it's time for breakfast!" he called, laughing when Han Geng bounded down the staircase and crashed into him, knocking him over like a bowling pin. He would neer admit it, but Heechul loved it when Han Geng did that. He loved feeling the tiger's soft paw pads dig into his shoulders, heavy enough to make him breathless but light enough not to hurt. He squirmed and giggled as Han Geng's rough pink tongue lapped at his face.
"Heechul, how many times do I have to tell you?" Mother scolded gently. "Don't jump down the stairs. And get off the floor, it's dirty."
"It's not my fault!" the child protested loudly, pushing the stuffed tiger off of his chest. "Han Geng jumped on me!"
"Hurry up and eat, dear, or you'll be late for school."
"But I don't want to go to school!"
"School is important, sweetie," Mother replied without skipping a beat. They had this argument every morning. "You need to go to school to learn and play with your friends."
"I don't learn anything at school, and Han Geng is my best friend, and I can play with Han Geng at home."
"Eat your breakfast before the bus comes, sweetie."
Heechul huffed in annoyance and poured himself an extra big bowl of Chocolate-Frosted Sugar Bombs. Once he was done with that, he dumped a good helping of chocolate syrup on his plate and started lapping it up with his tongue, getting it all over his nose and chin. He ignored his mother's orders to eat like a proper human being, dear! and opted to pretend that he was an alien spaceship out to steal all the chocolate syrup in the world.
"Sweetie, stop that, you are not a dog."
"Of course not, Mom, I'm an alien spaceship, out to conquer the world by taking every last drop of chocolate syrup known to mankind!"
"You can't conquer the world like that, Heechul," Mother sighed, wiping her son's face with a napkin.
"Of course I can," Heechul insisted, trying to wriggle his way out of his mother's thin arms. "If there was no chocolate syrup in the world, then nobody could eat pancakes because pancakes can only be eaten with chocolate syrup. And if nobody can eat pancakes, then the choices of breakfast food will be drastically reduced. Eventually, there will be nothing to eat for breakfast! And if nobody can eat breakfast, then everybody will starve to death because breakfast is the most important meal of the day."
"Sure, sweetie, now go get your backpack and go wait for the bus like a good boy."
"Can I bring Han Geng to school with me?"
"Not today, dear."
"Why not?" Heechul stomped his foot as he maneuvered his arms into his backpack straps. "The school does not have any rule that says that tigers are not allowed inside the classroom. Besides, Han Geng can eat all of the bullies at my school for me."
"Fine, dear, now run along, it's time to go. The school bus is waiting for you."
"Are you sure I need to go to school?"
"Yes, dear," Mother answered, patting her son's head and promptly pushing him out the front door. "Have a good day at school, sweetie! I love you!"
Heechul groaned and grudgingly walked towards the bus stop, dragging Han Geng along with him. "Another whole day that I have to sit in class and listen to the teacher’s brainwashing. He only talks about multiplication and division. I hate multiplication and division."
Han Geng yawned lazily. Maybe you'd like it better if you took some time to understand it.
"I doubt it," Heechul muttered. "The only thing I like about Math is fractions because we get to draw pie graphs. I can show you today. I always make my pie graphs apple pies because apple pies are the best."
The bus always smelled like puke and guts, especially near the back. That was why Heechul always sat in the second row on the left beside a girl named Krystal because usually the window would be open and sometimes Krystal would let him take the window seat.
"Hi, Han Geng!" Krystal greeted the stuffed tiger immediately, snatching him out of Heechul's hands and giving him a big squeeze and kiss. "Aw, you are such a sweetie pie!"
"He is not a sweetie pie!" Heechul protested in outrage, wrestling his stuffed tiger out of Krystal small prying hands. "Han Geng is a huge tiger, and he has big white teeth and can eat you up like nothing!"
Krystal stuck out her tongue. "I think he's a big sweetie pie. Just like my Amber. His fur is so soft and cuddly, Han Geng wouldn't hurt a fly! Wouldn't you, Han Geng?"
Heechul pretended to vomit when Han Geng only purred in response. "Sissy."
Krystal giggled. "Han Geng should come over to my house and we can have a tea party! You can talk to Amber and we can have chocolate chip cookies with whipped cream!"
"I'm not going," Heechul refused with a sniff. "Tea parties are stupid."
"I invited Han Geng, not you, dummy!"
"Want to switch lunches with me today, Krystal?"
"What do you have?" she asked, taking out an egg salad sandwich from her My Little Pony lunchbox.
"I have a sandwich filled with slugs and snails and alien goo," Heechul replied, eyeing his peanut butter and jam sandwich with suspicion. "It might be poisonous."
"Ew, Heechul, you are so disgusting!" Krystal grimaced and walked away to eat somewhere else.
That wasn't very nice, Han Geng reprimanded gently.
Heechul pouted. "But peanut butter and jam sandwiches are so boring. I wish mom could make me sandwiches filled with slugs and snails and alien goo. Maybe then I could be like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle and gain superpowers from radioactive ooze."
He took a big hearty bite from his sandwich. “Any changes yet?”
None that I can see, Han Geng shook his head.
“Rats.”
The pop quiz in Math class made Heechul groan. He hated pop quizzes and he hated Math class, but he hated them even more when they were put together. He looked at the numbers on the page and knitted his eyebrows together. Then he pretended that he was a ninja and slowly turned his head to peek over Krystal's test, which was already three quarters of the way filled out.
But out of nowhere, Krystal's hand shot up. "Mr. Cho, Heechul is cheating off of my test!"
Heechul buried his nose in his arms and scowled. "Tattletale."
"Heechul, eyes on your own test, please. If I catch you cheating again, you'll be sent to the principal's office."
The boy spent the rest of class doodling pictures of spaceships and mud monsters on his desk. Mr. Cho yelled at him afterwards for vandalizing school property, and when Heechul defended himself by saying that he was simply realizing his artistic potential, he was given detention for talking back.
(“Whatever happened to freedom of speech?” he muttered.
Freedom of speech only applies to those of legal age, Han Geng offered.
“What’s legal age?”
Eighteen or nineteen. Sometimes twenty.
“Twelve more years.” Heechul glared. “Bummer.”)
"How was school today, sweetie?" Mother asked when Heechul finally got home.
"An alien spaceship filled with man-eating earthworms attacked us today and sucked everybody's brains out."
"How exciting. Now, wash up and go do your homework."
"I can't do my homework, Mom, I told you already: an earthworm sucked my brain out!"
"Very nice, dear. Go be a good boy and wash your hands. Don't overflow the bathroom."
"Sorry for tattling on you for cheating off my test," Krystal apologized several days later on the bus. She held a stuffed bunny in her arms and was stroking its soft head. "Amber told me that it was not nice to have done that. It’s just that I was mad because you grossed me out with your lunch."
Heechul stuck his tongue out. "I have dead snakes and frog guts for lunch today, if you want to know."
"Ew, gross, Heechul!"
Heechul lifted the bucket off of a perfectly sculpted sandbox building and admired his handiwork. "Look, Han Geng, I made downtown Tokyo! You know what that means!"
Han Geng bared his teeth and started to tackle the sand city to the ground with his great roars of terror and doom. Heechul followed suit, growling and screaming and yelling as he stomped the city to ash and dust until his voice grew hoarse and he collapsed into the pile of sand, slightly out of breath, hiccupping from giggling too much.
"Han Geng, why did people want to kill Godzilla?" Heechul asked after his heartbeat steadied and his hiccups subsided. His head rested on Han Geng's warm broad back, and he idly stroked his best friend's head.
They thought Godzilla was a threat to the human population, the tiger explained.
"But was it really necessary to kill Godzilla? Wasn’t there another way? Why couldn't the people of downtown Tokyo and Godzilla get along?"
Sometimes people just never get along, Heechul.
"Never ever?"
Never ever.
Heechul exhaled and digested that piece of information. He ran his fingers through the tiger’s fur, warm and soft from sunbathing. "But you are a threat to the human population, too, aren't you? You could eat anybody you want, just like Godzilla! How come we get along?"
We just do.
"That's good, isn't it? That we get along?"
Yes. Very good.
Heechul hated drying dishes, but his father insisted that it would build character. Heechul had no idea how drying dishes could build character in any possible way. All he did was take a towel and wipe the water off of a soapy dish and then put it into its correct cupboard. How on earth did that build any character?
"I hate drying dishes," the boy grumbled as he enviously watched his tiger laze around on the kitchen rug. "I don't understand why Mom just doesn't put the wet dishes into the cupboard and let them dry by themselves. It's called evaporation, isn't it?"
Water makes wood go soggy, Han Geng explained calmly. If you make the wood soggy, then the cupboard would not hold up.
Heechul scowled and made an ugly green alien face. "I still don't understand why I have to do it."
Because you need to build your character.
"More like torture."
"Heechul, the sooner you finish drying those dishes, the sooner you can leave," Father called from the living room, the television at full volume. Baseball, as usual.
The child grimaced. "Is this what being a grown-up is like? Do grown-ups have to dry dishes?"
Yes, they do. All the time.
"I never want to be a grown-up, then."
But if you are not a grown-up, you cannot find your soul mate.
"A soul mate? What's a soul mate?"
Han Geng yawned and licked his chops. A soul mate is the person who you will love and cherish and share your life with. Some people even fall in love with and marry their soul mates.
"So children do not have soul mates?"
Sometimes they do. But nobody knows for sure who their soul mates are until they are grown-ups.
Another ugly green alien expression made its way onto Heechul's face. "You say that a soul mate is the person I love and cherish and share my life with. Doesn't that make you my soul mate? We do everything together, don't we?"
Perhaps.
Heechul broke into a smile. "When I become a grown-up, we should fall in love and get married, just like you say soul mates do."
Han Geng hummed. I thought you said that you never wanted to be a grown-up.
"Well, if we get to be soul mates, being a grown-up couldn't be that bad, right? It'll be like it is now, just you and me."
The kitchen was a mess, and no matter how many times Heechul insisted that it was all Han Geng’s fault, Mom, honest!, he was still sent to his room and grounded for a week.
“Rats! I can’t even watch my favorite television shows anymore. Am I really expected to just loiter around in my room for the next week?”
Han Geng rolled his eyes fondly. It’s your fault for making a mess in the kitchen.
“I was trying to make the perfect chocolate chip cookies for Mom and Dad! And look how grateful they are about it! Sometimes I wonder why I even try!” Heechul huffed and threw himself face down on his bed.
How should we pass the time?
“We could create our own secret language, like how the Germans did in the Second World War! We can customize our codes and make a whole new mode of communication! That way, Mom and Dad won’t understand anything we are saying!” Heechul’s face hardened. “Not like they understand us anyway.”
Han Geng climbed onto the bed and pressed himself close to Heechul’s small body. His fur was warm and comforting against Heechul’s wet cheek.
When Heechul found an old unused soccer ball on his front lawn one quaint sunny afternoon, an idea struck his six-year-old mind. "Let's play Heechulball!” he suggested, almost jumping from all the excitement. "Come on, Han Geng, it'll be fun!"
What's Heechulball?
Heechul's eyes twinkled. "I believe that organized sports are dumb. In school we have to play stupid games like soccer or basketball where there are teams and intramurals and rules and fouls. Heechulball, on the other hand, is the least organized of disorganized sports! I invented it myself!"
How do you play?
"I haven't figured that part out yet. Let's make up the rules as we go! I start! Ready, set, go!" Heechul dashed across the yard, ball wedged underneath his armpit, and ran with all his might. Han Geng was hot on his heels, his powerful tiger body sprinting with such force and speed that it took Heechul's breath away.
Down the street Heechul ran, his little six-year-old body fighting to keep up the pace. Han Geng pounced, Heechul sidestepped him. Another tiger pounce, another dodge. A steep hill was fast approaching, and Heechul was wheezing with excitement. With a snarl, Han Geng threw his whole body weight onto the six-year-old and they rolled down the hill together, laughing and wrestling and growling and snarling the whole way.
Han Geng had his teeth firmly implanted onto the soccer ball, and Heechul held on with all everything he had, kicking and screaming and having the time of his life as mud seeped into his t-shirt and hair. "You're not allowed to hold on with your teeth, Han Geng!" he yelled just as his fingers slipped off the ball. "Only your hands! New rule!"
Han Geng laughed, a big hearty tiger laugh, and they wrestled some more, rolling on top of each other and getting mud all over themselves in a big and hysterical heap.
Boredom made Heechul restless. And whenever Heechul was restless, he looked for new things to do. Eventually, it came to the point where Heechul resorted to looking through his father’s garage, where he found an unused red wagon. He pulled it outside to the driveway where Han Geng was waiting, tiger head tilted in confusion.
What do you need a wagon for? he asked, curiosity thick in his voice as he groomed his whiskers.
“Wagons are good for testing the limits of Destiny.”
You believe in Destiny? Han Geng asked, quirking his tiger eyebrow as he followed his best friend up the nearest hill. You believe that our lives are predetermined and that free will is only an illusion?
“Of course I do!” Heechul retorted as he jumped into the front of the wagon, Han Geng at the rear. “If Destiny is real, then I don’t need to take responsibility for anything I do. For example, it was Destiny that made me flood the house last week, and it was Destiny that made me fail my Math test yesterday. You see, it’s all Destiny’s fault!”
Wind whipped at their faces as they rushed down the hills, the wheels of the wagons screeching every once in a while as they took sharp twists and turns down the grassy field.
What about the things you accomplish? Those are all to Destiny’s credit, too, I presume?
Heechul thought about it for a moment and scowled. “Rats. I didn’t think of that.”
They crashed into a ditch not moments later. Heechul once again blamed it on Destiny. Han Geng blamed it on Heechul’s poor steering.
“We’re going exploring!” Heechul announced one bright and sunny afternoon. “We’re the greatest explorers of the twenty-first century!”
What are we going to explore, then?
“There’s a forest behind our house that’s crawling with adventure. Let’s go!”
Shouldn’t we pack something, just in case? Han Geng asked, tail twitching from worry. Perhaps a map or extra food or maybe a tent if we have to stay the night?
Heechul huffed. “We’re explorers, we fear nothing! Maps and food and tents are for sissies! Now are we going to go or not?”
Han Geng gave him a look that he always gave Heechul whenever the six-year-old was being a blathering self-absorbed idiot, but as always, he relented. The duo was lost within ten minutes of their adventure. We’re lost, Han Geng pointed out as much, looking around the forest.
Stubborn as ever, Heechul trudged on, panting from exhaustion as the setting sun shone in their faces from overhead and blocked their vision. “We’re not lost! We’re explorers! The word ‘lost’ is not part of our explorer lexicon. We’re paving new paths, marking undiscovered routes, creating our own destinations!”
We’re lost, Han Geng reiterated, more firmly this time round.
“Fine, we are.”
After pondering over what to do, the two of them decided that staying in place would be the best course of action, and that hopefully either Mom or Dad would find them just in time for dinner. But even as the last ray of the sun disappeared over the horizon, there was still no sign of Heechul’s parents, and it was getting chilly.
Heechul sighed, pouting when his stomach growled and glowering at the goose bumps riddling his arms. “Looks like we’re on our own tonight, buddy. Probably missed dinner already. Let’s get some shuteye and continue exploring tomorrow. I’m beat.”
Heechul’s worried sleep-deprived parents found him the next morning curled up on a tree branch, sound asleep, clutching his stuffed tiger. Heechul was grounded for the next month and a half.
"Mom, Mom!" Heechul screamed at the top of his lungs. "Come quick, something terrible has happened!"
Heechul’s mother looked up from her newspaper, eyes weary but patient. "What is it, dear?"
"Han Geng is gone!" the boy cried, tears pouring out of his eyes in terror and loss. "Han Geng is gone, I can't find him, where is he? He can't leave me! We're soul mates! Soul mates are not supposed to leave each other! They’re not!"
"Han Geng is just in the wash, honey."
Heechul's eyes widened, and his sobs grew louder. "Are you crazy? Han Geng could drown in there! Take him out, take him out! He's not allowed to die, not now, not ever!"
The mother sighed, rubbing her temples. "Sweetie, Han Geng is just a toy. He was dirty so I put him in the wash. He won't drown, I promise."
"Han Geng is not a toy! He is a big scary tiger and if you don't apologize to him right now, he'll eat you!"
"He is not a big scary tiger, darling. He is a stuffed tiger, a toy, nothing more."
Heechul sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, and for the next hour he waited in front of the washing machine, inconsolable until the buzzer went off and Han Geng was handed back to him. The boy buried his wet face into Han Geng’s drenched neck. His fur smelled like laundry detergent. "Han Geng, are you okay?"
I am fine, Heechul.
"I thought you were dead!"
I'm not.
"Never leave me, okay? Don't go anywhere! Promise?"
Han Geng purred. I promise. But I have to go into the dryer now.
("Mom said that you are just a stuffed tiger the other day," Heechul quipped as they lazed around on a bright sunny field and stared up at the sky to looking at cloud shapes. "But I know you aren't. You're a real tiger, a big and scary one, too. Why can't she see you?"
Because only you can see me. Nobody else can.
“Oh.” Heechul frowned. “Why?”
Because you are special.
“Then how can I prove to Mom that you are not just a toy? How can I prove that you’re a real talking tiger and my soul mate?”
You can’t.)
When Krystal came over to Heechul’s house to invite Han Geng to a tea party in her backyard, she was greeted at the door by Heechul’s mother. “Amber says that she really wants to meet Han Geng,” she explained cheerfully, hair tied into two neat little pigtails as she cradled her beloved stuffed bunny against her chest. “She has never seen a big and scary tiger before.”
Heechul’s mother stared at her for a moment and let out a long and exasperated sigh. “I think that Amber will be disappointed then. Han Geng is just a stuffed tiger, not a big and scary tiger.”
“He only looks like a stuffed tiger,” Krystal argued softly, deliberately, as if she had this argument many times already. “Just like Amber only looks like a stuffed bunny. But to me, Amber is a beautiful brown rabbit with soft fur and small teeth, and she loves to romp in the grass with me and she always lets me pet her ears even though I know she hates it when other people touch her ears. I know that you think that Heechul is making stuff up, but he really isn’t. He truly sees Han Geng as a real tiger.”
Heechul’s mother sighed and rubbed at her tired eyes. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
(“Mom doesn’t believe me,” Heechul grumbled as he glared at the teacup placed in front of him like it was the most offensive thing he had ever seen. “Dad doesn’t believe me either. He says I should grow up.”
“They don’t need to believe you.”
“But I want them to believe me. I want them to know that I’m not making Han Geng up.”
Krystal gave him a sympathetic look. “Can you see him right now?”
Heechul looked to his right and stared at those enormous yellow eyes, orange fur, black stripes, sharp white teeth, long expressive tail. “Yes, I see him. All the time.”
Krystal smiled faintly. “Now look at Amber. What do you see?”
The boy screwed his eyes and squinted. A stuffed bunny with a button nose and lifeless ears and cotton ball tail. “I see a stuffed bunny wearing a shirt that says Mr. Buns.”
Krystal nodded. A sad expression made its way onto her pale face. “As I expected. But that is not what I see. To me, Amber is a real rabbit, my real rabbit. She is special to me, just like Han Geng is special to you.”
“How come we are the only ones who can see them for what they really are?” Heechul asked, frustrated. “I tried to show Mom with some Polaroid pictures that I took of the two of us, but even the camera doesn’t believe me. If the camera showed a stuffed tiger, why do I see a real one?”
“You just can,” the girl responded easily, contentedly, her thin fingers stroking her bunny’s long floppy ears. “We don’t need to go around trying to prove that they exist, you know. We don’t need any explanations. Just as long as we can see them, they are real.”
“But what if they aren’t? What if they are just the imaginary constituents of an undeveloped six-year-old mind?”
Krystal gave Heechul an even look. “Do you really believe that?”
Heechul shook his head vehemently. “No.”
“Then don’t worry about it so much.” Krystal’s face brightened. “Aw, look, they finished their tea!”
And sure enough, the cups in front of their respective stuffed animals were empty.)
Amber is a nice bunny, Han Geng remarked on their way back home. She had a cute twitchy nose.
Heechul scowled, kicking a small rock down the street. “Han Geng, are you real?”
Do you want me to be?
“Yes.”
Then I’m real.
“Okay.”
Rolling down the hill on their wagon became a habit of theirs whenever there was nothing good to watch on the television (or when they were avoiding Dad and his ‘character-building’ chores). It was boring, but it gave Heechul something to do.
“What does falling in love feel like?” Heechul asked as they whizzed down the hillside, teeth chattering from the bumpiness of the ride.
It depends on the person.
“What did it feel like for you, then?”
Han Geng thought for a moment, and then let out a happy little growl from deep in his throat. It felt wonderful.
Heechul smiled. “I can’t wait until I fall in love.”
The wagon flew and crashed into a tree branch, and the two passengers laughed and laughed until their ribs hurt.
(“We sure crashed really high up on this tree,” Heechul noticed, looking down from where they were positioned. “That was quite a ride! We should do that again!”
If we can get down, Han Geng pointed out, an amused tiger smile on his black lips.
“If we can get down,” Heechul agreed, giggling as he dangled his legs.)
It was Heechul’s father’s turn to put Heechul to sleep that night, which consisted of wrestling the boy out of his outside clothes and into his Star Wars pajamas, telling him a bedtime story, and reassuring him that no, Heechul, there are no monsters under your bed, I promise. The routine was standard, but this time, Heechul called out just as his father was about to leave the room.
“Dad, why don’t you ever say goodnight to Han Geng?” Heechul inquired accusingly. “He’s been a good tiger and he hasn’t eaten you no matter how many times I ask him to.”
Heechul’s father rolled his eyes. “Thank you for not eating me, Han Geng. Good night.”
“And Dad?”
“Yes, Heechul?”
“Where do we go when we die?”
Heechul’s father froze. “What kind of question is that? Go to sleep, Heechul.” The bedroom light closed and the door clicked shut.
“That usually means that he doesn’t know the answer, not like he would ever admit it,” Heechul sighed. “Hey, Han Geng, you still awake?”
Yes, Han Geng hummed, long tiger purrs reverberating throughout his large orange and black body.
“Do you know where we go when we die?”
No, the tiger answered, yawning. Why do you ask?
Heechul deflated. Well, at least Han Geng was honest about it. “Well, I found you on my doorstep, and it was a really random encounter. Or maybe Destiny came into play-I don’t know. But what if I wake up one day and I don’t see you anymore?” The six-year-old shuddered. “I just wanted to know if we would end up in the same place eventually. You know, just so that in the small chance that either you or I die before our time is up, I would be content with the knowledge that we will be able to see each other again.”
Han Geng threw his front paw over the child’s small shoulder and pressed close until Heechul’s head was snug under his chin. Sleep, Heechul.
And Heechul slept with his face buried into Han Geng’s soft chest, heart swelling with unprecedented warmth at being the only one who was allowed to see Han Geng for what he truly was, at being the only one who could see this big powerful amazing tiger that he called his best friend.
(His soul mate.)
Pairing(s): HanChul, KryBer
Genre(s): Pseudo!romance, psychological, Calvin & Hobbes AU, kid!fic
Length: 5283 words
Rating: G
Summary: Heechul was six years old when he found a stuffed tiger on his doorstep.
Inspiration(s): Calvin & Hobbes was one of my favorite comic strips when I was a little kid. Still is. Dedicated to samuel_evans, who gave me a very uplifting message some time ago. Thank you!
```
Heechul was six years old when he found a stuffed tiger on his doorstep. There was a note attached to it, the tape so weak that a slight breeze would have sent it floating away. Hello, my name is Han Geng, it read, Please take care of me. Heechul picked the tiger up, dusted it off, and smiled. "Hello, Han Geng," he greeted with his wide toothy smile. "My name is Kim Heechul."
And suddenly the stuffed tiger was a real tiger in all its fierce and powerful glory. Heechul was not afraid, not afraid at all. Yellow eyes turned to the six-year-old and blinked slowly. Nice to meet you, Kim Heechul, the tiger growled, sharp white teeth glistening in the sunlight.
Heechul stared, transfixed at his newfound friend's all-encompassing power. "Do you want to play with me?" he asked, his innocent eyes wide with awe and astonishment.
I would do anything with you, Han Geng replied easily, stretching and giving an experimental flick of his long striped tail.
"Great! Let's play tag! You're it!"
"I hate school," Heechul grumbled after his mother had successfully pulled him out of bed. "Dad says that school is the place where children like me learn and become educated, but I never feel like I learn anything at school."
Why not?
The six-year-old grimaced, nose crinkling in distaste. "We only learn about useless things like Math and equations and History and Chemistry. What about the important things? Why can't we learn how to defeat Adolf Hitler, or how to stop the bigger kids from bullying the smaller kids, or how to make the perfect chocolate chip cookie? Isn't that more important than learning that three minus two equals one?"
Han Geng rested his head on his gigantic front paws, lazily stretched out on Heechul's bedroom rug. You learned about Adolf Hitler in History, though. History is important, then.
"Maybe a little bit. But we only learned that what Adolf Hitler did was wrong, but everybody knows that already. It is not right to kill people: that's merely common sense. They didn't tell us what we could do to stop what he did. They only told us the dates of when it happened and the places where it happened. But honestly, who cares when and where it happened? It's not as if it made a difference! Even if it was in Africa, the same thing would have happened eventually, right?"
Perhaps. Perhaps not.
"I just don't understand," Heechul grumbled, reluctantly shrugging out of his favorite Star Wars pajamas, the one that was decorated with red and blue light sabers. "There is no use in learning that hydrogen and oxygen makes water. Water is water, and that's that. If the teachers taught us how to stop the bigger kids from bullying the smaller kids, then nobody would get hurt at school and I wouldn’t come home without any lunch money. But they don't teach us all of that, and whenever we try to ask them to, they tell us to go away."
Maybe they don't know how to teach you how to stop bullying, Han Geng offered.
"Then they're crappy teachers." Heechul concluded, giggling belatedly at his choice of words. Swear words were only used sparingly, and only when Mom was not listening. The last time he used the word "crappy" in front of her, he was banned from watching Adventure Time for a week.
At his mother's calling, Heechul scampered downstairs, barely managing to untangle himself from his t-shirt and finally find the correct hole to put his left arm through. The rustle of a cereal box reached his ears, and he grinned. "Come on, Han Geng, it's time for breakfast!" he called, laughing when Han Geng bounded down the staircase and crashed into him, knocking him over like a bowling pin. He would neer admit it, but Heechul loved it when Han Geng did that. He loved feeling the tiger's soft paw pads dig into his shoulders, heavy enough to make him breathless but light enough not to hurt. He squirmed and giggled as Han Geng's rough pink tongue lapped at his face.
"Heechul, how many times do I have to tell you?" Mother scolded gently. "Don't jump down the stairs. And get off the floor, it's dirty."
"It's not my fault!" the child protested loudly, pushing the stuffed tiger off of his chest. "Han Geng jumped on me!"
"Hurry up and eat, dear, or you'll be late for school."
"But I don't want to go to school!"
"School is important, sweetie," Mother replied without skipping a beat. They had this argument every morning. "You need to go to school to learn and play with your friends."
"I don't learn anything at school, and Han Geng is my best friend, and I can play with Han Geng at home."
"Eat your breakfast before the bus comes, sweetie."
Heechul huffed in annoyance and poured himself an extra big bowl of Chocolate-Frosted Sugar Bombs. Once he was done with that, he dumped a good helping of chocolate syrup on his plate and started lapping it up with his tongue, getting it all over his nose and chin. He ignored his mother's orders to eat like a proper human being, dear! and opted to pretend that he was an alien spaceship out to steal all the chocolate syrup in the world.
"Sweetie, stop that, you are not a dog."
"Of course not, Mom, I'm an alien spaceship, out to conquer the world by taking every last drop of chocolate syrup known to mankind!"
"You can't conquer the world like that, Heechul," Mother sighed, wiping her son's face with a napkin.
"Of course I can," Heechul insisted, trying to wriggle his way out of his mother's thin arms. "If there was no chocolate syrup in the world, then nobody could eat pancakes because pancakes can only be eaten with chocolate syrup. And if nobody can eat pancakes, then the choices of breakfast food will be drastically reduced. Eventually, there will be nothing to eat for breakfast! And if nobody can eat breakfast, then everybody will starve to death because breakfast is the most important meal of the day."
"Sure, sweetie, now go get your backpack and go wait for the bus like a good boy."
"Can I bring Han Geng to school with me?"
"Not today, dear."
"Why not?" Heechul stomped his foot as he maneuvered his arms into his backpack straps. "The school does not have any rule that says that tigers are not allowed inside the classroom. Besides, Han Geng can eat all of the bullies at my school for me."
"Fine, dear, now run along, it's time to go. The school bus is waiting for you."
"Are you sure I need to go to school?"
"Yes, dear," Mother answered, patting her son's head and promptly pushing him out the front door. "Have a good day at school, sweetie! I love you!"
Heechul groaned and grudgingly walked towards the bus stop, dragging Han Geng along with him. "Another whole day that I have to sit in class and listen to the teacher’s brainwashing. He only talks about multiplication and division. I hate multiplication and division."
Han Geng yawned lazily. Maybe you'd like it better if you took some time to understand it.
"I doubt it," Heechul muttered. "The only thing I like about Math is fractions because we get to draw pie graphs. I can show you today. I always make my pie graphs apple pies because apple pies are the best."
The bus always smelled like puke and guts, especially near the back. That was why Heechul always sat in the second row on the left beside a girl named Krystal because usually the window would be open and sometimes Krystal would let him take the window seat.
"Hi, Han Geng!" Krystal greeted the stuffed tiger immediately, snatching him out of Heechul's hands and giving him a big squeeze and kiss. "Aw, you are such a sweetie pie!"
"He is not a sweetie pie!" Heechul protested in outrage, wrestling his stuffed tiger out of Krystal small prying hands. "Han Geng is a huge tiger, and he has big white teeth and can eat you up like nothing!"
Krystal stuck out her tongue. "I think he's a big sweetie pie. Just like my Amber. His fur is so soft and cuddly, Han Geng wouldn't hurt a fly! Wouldn't you, Han Geng?"
Heechul pretended to vomit when Han Geng only purred in response. "Sissy."
Krystal giggled. "Han Geng should come over to my house and we can have a tea party! You can talk to Amber and we can have chocolate chip cookies with whipped cream!"
"I'm not going," Heechul refused with a sniff. "Tea parties are stupid."
"I invited Han Geng, not you, dummy!"
"Want to switch lunches with me today, Krystal?"
"What do you have?" she asked, taking out an egg salad sandwich from her My Little Pony lunchbox.
"I have a sandwich filled with slugs and snails and alien goo," Heechul replied, eyeing his peanut butter and jam sandwich with suspicion. "It might be poisonous."
"Ew, Heechul, you are so disgusting!" Krystal grimaced and walked away to eat somewhere else.
That wasn't very nice, Han Geng reprimanded gently.
Heechul pouted. "But peanut butter and jam sandwiches are so boring. I wish mom could make me sandwiches filled with slugs and snails and alien goo. Maybe then I could be like a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle and gain superpowers from radioactive ooze."
He took a big hearty bite from his sandwich. “Any changes yet?”
None that I can see, Han Geng shook his head.
“Rats.”
The pop quiz in Math class made Heechul groan. He hated pop quizzes and he hated Math class, but he hated them even more when they were put together. He looked at the numbers on the page and knitted his eyebrows together. Then he pretended that he was a ninja and slowly turned his head to peek over Krystal's test, which was already three quarters of the way filled out.
But out of nowhere, Krystal's hand shot up. "Mr. Cho, Heechul is cheating off of my test!"
Heechul buried his nose in his arms and scowled. "Tattletale."
"Heechul, eyes on your own test, please. If I catch you cheating again, you'll be sent to the principal's office."
The boy spent the rest of class doodling pictures of spaceships and mud monsters on his desk. Mr. Cho yelled at him afterwards for vandalizing school property, and when Heechul defended himself by saying that he was simply realizing his artistic potential, he was given detention for talking back.
(“Whatever happened to freedom of speech?” he muttered.
Freedom of speech only applies to those of legal age, Han Geng offered.
“What’s legal age?”
Eighteen or nineteen. Sometimes twenty.
“Twelve more years.” Heechul glared. “Bummer.”)
"How was school today, sweetie?" Mother asked when Heechul finally got home.
"An alien spaceship filled with man-eating earthworms attacked us today and sucked everybody's brains out."
"How exciting. Now, wash up and go do your homework."
"I can't do my homework, Mom, I told you already: an earthworm sucked my brain out!"
"Very nice, dear. Go be a good boy and wash your hands. Don't overflow the bathroom."
"Sorry for tattling on you for cheating off my test," Krystal apologized several days later on the bus. She held a stuffed bunny in her arms and was stroking its soft head. "Amber told me that it was not nice to have done that. It’s just that I was mad because you grossed me out with your lunch."
Heechul stuck his tongue out. "I have dead snakes and frog guts for lunch today, if you want to know."
"Ew, gross, Heechul!"
Heechul lifted the bucket off of a perfectly sculpted sandbox building and admired his handiwork. "Look, Han Geng, I made downtown Tokyo! You know what that means!"
Han Geng bared his teeth and started to tackle the sand city to the ground with his great roars of terror and doom. Heechul followed suit, growling and screaming and yelling as he stomped the city to ash and dust until his voice grew hoarse and he collapsed into the pile of sand, slightly out of breath, hiccupping from giggling too much.
"Han Geng, why did people want to kill Godzilla?" Heechul asked after his heartbeat steadied and his hiccups subsided. His head rested on Han Geng's warm broad back, and he idly stroked his best friend's head.
They thought Godzilla was a threat to the human population, the tiger explained.
"But was it really necessary to kill Godzilla? Wasn’t there another way? Why couldn't the people of downtown Tokyo and Godzilla get along?"
Sometimes people just never get along, Heechul.
"Never ever?"
Never ever.
Heechul exhaled and digested that piece of information. He ran his fingers through the tiger’s fur, warm and soft from sunbathing. "But you are a threat to the human population, too, aren't you? You could eat anybody you want, just like Godzilla! How come we get along?"
We just do.
"That's good, isn't it? That we get along?"
Yes. Very good.
Heechul hated drying dishes, but his father insisted that it would build character. Heechul had no idea how drying dishes could build character in any possible way. All he did was take a towel and wipe the water off of a soapy dish and then put it into its correct cupboard. How on earth did that build any character?
"I hate drying dishes," the boy grumbled as he enviously watched his tiger laze around on the kitchen rug. "I don't understand why Mom just doesn't put the wet dishes into the cupboard and let them dry by themselves. It's called evaporation, isn't it?"
Water makes wood go soggy, Han Geng explained calmly. If you make the wood soggy, then the cupboard would not hold up.
Heechul scowled and made an ugly green alien face. "I still don't understand why I have to do it."
Because you need to build your character.
"More like torture."
"Heechul, the sooner you finish drying those dishes, the sooner you can leave," Father called from the living room, the television at full volume. Baseball, as usual.
The child grimaced. "Is this what being a grown-up is like? Do grown-ups have to dry dishes?"
Yes, they do. All the time.
"I never want to be a grown-up, then."
But if you are not a grown-up, you cannot find your soul mate.
"A soul mate? What's a soul mate?"
Han Geng yawned and licked his chops. A soul mate is the person who you will love and cherish and share your life with. Some people even fall in love with and marry their soul mates.
"So children do not have soul mates?"
Sometimes they do. But nobody knows for sure who their soul mates are until they are grown-ups.
Another ugly green alien expression made its way onto Heechul's face. "You say that a soul mate is the person I love and cherish and share my life with. Doesn't that make you my soul mate? We do everything together, don't we?"
Perhaps.
Heechul broke into a smile. "When I become a grown-up, we should fall in love and get married, just like you say soul mates do."
Han Geng hummed. I thought you said that you never wanted to be a grown-up.
"Well, if we get to be soul mates, being a grown-up couldn't be that bad, right? It'll be like it is now, just you and me."
The kitchen was a mess, and no matter how many times Heechul insisted that it was all Han Geng’s fault, Mom, honest!, he was still sent to his room and grounded for a week.
“Rats! I can’t even watch my favorite television shows anymore. Am I really expected to just loiter around in my room for the next week?”
Han Geng rolled his eyes fondly. It’s your fault for making a mess in the kitchen.
“I was trying to make the perfect chocolate chip cookies for Mom and Dad! And look how grateful they are about it! Sometimes I wonder why I even try!” Heechul huffed and threw himself face down on his bed.
How should we pass the time?
“We could create our own secret language, like how the Germans did in the Second World War! We can customize our codes and make a whole new mode of communication! That way, Mom and Dad won’t understand anything we are saying!” Heechul’s face hardened. “Not like they understand us anyway.”
Han Geng climbed onto the bed and pressed himself close to Heechul’s small body. His fur was warm and comforting against Heechul’s wet cheek.
When Heechul found an old unused soccer ball on his front lawn one quaint sunny afternoon, an idea struck his six-year-old mind. "Let's play Heechulball!” he suggested, almost jumping from all the excitement. "Come on, Han Geng, it'll be fun!"
What's Heechulball?
Heechul's eyes twinkled. "I believe that organized sports are dumb. In school we have to play stupid games like soccer or basketball where there are teams and intramurals and rules and fouls. Heechulball, on the other hand, is the least organized of disorganized sports! I invented it myself!"
How do you play?
"I haven't figured that part out yet. Let's make up the rules as we go! I start! Ready, set, go!" Heechul dashed across the yard, ball wedged underneath his armpit, and ran with all his might. Han Geng was hot on his heels, his powerful tiger body sprinting with such force and speed that it took Heechul's breath away.
Down the street Heechul ran, his little six-year-old body fighting to keep up the pace. Han Geng pounced, Heechul sidestepped him. Another tiger pounce, another dodge. A steep hill was fast approaching, and Heechul was wheezing with excitement. With a snarl, Han Geng threw his whole body weight onto the six-year-old and they rolled down the hill together, laughing and wrestling and growling and snarling the whole way.
Han Geng had his teeth firmly implanted onto the soccer ball, and Heechul held on with all everything he had, kicking and screaming and having the time of his life as mud seeped into his t-shirt and hair. "You're not allowed to hold on with your teeth, Han Geng!" he yelled just as his fingers slipped off the ball. "Only your hands! New rule!"
Han Geng laughed, a big hearty tiger laugh, and they wrestled some more, rolling on top of each other and getting mud all over themselves in a big and hysterical heap.
Boredom made Heechul restless. And whenever Heechul was restless, he looked for new things to do. Eventually, it came to the point where Heechul resorted to looking through his father’s garage, where he found an unused red wagon. He pulled it outside to the driveway where Han Geng was waiting, tiger head tilted in confusion.
What do you need a wagon for? he asked, curiosity thick in his voice as he groomed his whiskers.
“Wagons are good for testing the limits of Destiny.”
You believe in Destiny? Han Geng asked, quirking his tiger eyebrow as he followed his best friend up the nearest hill. You believe that our lives are predetermined and that free will is only an illusion?
“Of course I do!” Heechul retorted as he jumped into the front of the wagon, Han Geng at the rear. “If Destiny is real, then I don’t need to take responsibility for anything I do. For example, it was Destiny that made me flood the house last week, and it was Destiny that made me fail my Math test yesterday. You see, it’s all Destiny’s fault!”
Wind whipped at their faces as they rushed down the hills, the wheels of the wagons screeching every once in a while as they took sharp twists and turns down the grassy field.
What about the things you accomplish? Those are all to Destiny’s credit, too, I presume?
Heechul thought about it for a moment and scowled. “Rats. I didn’t think of that.”
They crashed into a ditch not moments later. Heechul once again blamed it on Destiny. Han Geng blamed it on Heechul’s poor steering.
“We’re going exploring!” Heechul announced one bright and sunny afternoon. “We’re the greatest explorers of the twenty-first century!”
What are we going to explore, then?
“There’s a forest behind our house that’s crawling with adventure. Let’s go!”
Shouldn’t we pack something, just in case? Han Geng asked, tail twitching from worry. Perhaps a map or extra food or maybe a tent if we have to stay the night?
Heechul huffed. “We’re explorers, we fear nothing! Maps and food and tents are for sissies! Now are we going to go or not?”
Han Geng gave him a look that he always gave Heechul whenever the six-year-old was being a blathering self-absorbed idiot, but as always, he relented. The duo was lost within ten minutes of their adventure. We’re lost, Han Geng pointed out as much, looking around the forest.
Stubborn as ever, Heechul trudged on, panting from exhaustion as the setting sun shone in their faces from overhead and blocked their vision. “We’re not lost! We’re explorers! The word ‘lost’ is not part of our explorer lexicon. We’re paving new paths, marking undiscovered routes, creating our own destinations!”
We’re lost, Han Geng reiterated, more firmly this time round.
“Fine, we are.”
After pondering over what to do, the two of them decided that staying in place would be the best course of action, and that hopefully either Mom or Dad would find them just in time for dinner. But even as the last ray of the sun disappeared over the horizon, there was still no sign of Heechul’s parents, and it was getting chilly.
Heechul sighed, pouting when his stomach growled and glowering at the goose bumps riddling his arms. “Looks like we’re on our own tonight, buddy. Probably missed dinner already. Let’s get some shuteye and continue exploring tomorrow. I’m beat.”
Heechul’s worried sleep-deprived parents found him the next morning curled up on a tree branch, sound asleep, clutching his stuffed tiger. Heechul was grounded for the next month and a half.
"Mom, Mom!" Heechul screamed at the top of his lungs. "Come quick, something terrible has happened!"
Heechul’s mother looked up from her newspaper, eyes weary but patient. "What is it, dear?"
"Han Geng is gone!" the boy cried, tears pouring out of his eyes in terror and loss. "Han Geng is gone, I can't find him, where is he? He can't leave me! We're soul mates! Soul mates are not supposed to leave each other! They’re not!"
"Han Geng is just in the wash, honey."
Heechul's eyes widened, and his sobs grew louder. "Are you crazy? Han Geng could drown in there! Take him out, take him out! He's not allowed to die, not now, not ever!"
The mother sighed, rubbing her temples. "Sweetie, Han Geng is just a toy. He was dirty so I put him in the wash. He won't drown, I promise."
"Han Geng is not a toy! He is a big scary tiger and if you don't apologize to him right now, he'll eat you!"
"He is not a big scary tiger, darling. He is a stuffed tiger, a toy, nothing more."
Heechul sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, and for the next hour he waited in front of the washing machine, inconsolable until the buzzer went off and Han Geng was handed back to him. The boy buried his wet face into Han Geng’s drenched neck. His fur smelled like laundry detergent. "Han Geng, are you okay?"
I am fine, Heechul.
"I thought you were dead!"
I'm not.
"Never leave me, okay? Don't go anywhere! Promise?"
Han Geng purred. I promise. But I have to go into the dryer now.
("Mom said that you are just a stuffed tiger the other day," Heechul quipped as they lazed around on a bright sunny field and stared up at the sky to looking at cloud shapes. "But I know you aren't. You're a real tiger, a big and scary one, too. Why can't she see you?"
Because only you can see me. Nobody else can.
“Oh.” Heechul frowned. “Why?”
Because you are special.
“Then how can I prove to Mom that you are not just a toy? How can I prove that you’re a real talking tiger and my soul mate?”
You can’t.)
When Krystal came over to Heechul’s house to invite Han Geng to a tea party in her backyard, she was greeted at the door by Heechul’s mother. “Amber says that she really wants to meet Han Geng,” she explained cheerfully, hair tied into two neat little pigtails as she cradled her beloved stuffed bunny against her chest. “She has never seen a big and scary tiger before.”
Heechul’s mother stared at her for a moment and let out a long and exasperated sigh. “I think that Amber will be disappointed then. Han Geng is just a stuffed tiger, not a big and scary tiger.”
“He only looks like a stuffed tiger,” Krystal argued softly, deliberately, as if she had this argument many times already. “Just like Amber only looks like a stuffed bunny. But to me, Amber is a beautiful brown rabbit with soft fur and small teeth, and she loves to romp in the grass with me and she always lets me pet her ears even though I know she hates it when other people touch her ears. I know that you think that Heechul is making stuff up, but he really isn’t. He truly sees Han Geng as a real tiger.”
Heechul’s mother sighed and rubbed at her tired eyes. “That’s what I’m worried about.”
(“Mom doesn’t believe me,” Heechul grumbled as he glared at the teacup placed in front of him like it was the most offensive thing he had ever seen. “Dad doesn’t believe me either. He says I should grow up.”
“They don’t need to believe you.”
“But I want them to believe me. I want them to know that I’m not making Han Geng up.”
Krystal gave him a sympathetic look. “Can you see him right now?”
Heechul looked to his right and stared at those enormous yellow eyes, orange fur, black stripes, sharp white teeth, long expressive tail. “Yes, I see him. All the time.”
Krystal smiled faintly. “Now look at Amber. What do you see?”
The boy screwed his eyes and squinted. A stuffed bunny with a button nose and lifeless ears and cotton ball tail. “I see a stuffed bunny wearing a shirt that says Mr. Buns.”
Krystal nodded. A sad expression made its way onto her pale face. “As I expected. But that is not what I see. To me, Amber is a real rabbit, my real rabbit. She is special to me, just like Han Geng is special to you.”
“How come we are the only ones who can see them for what they really are?” Heechul asked, frustrated. “I tried to show Mom with some Polaroid pictures that I took of the two of us, but even the camera doesn’t believe me. If the camera showed a stuffed tiger, why do I see a real one?”
“You just can,” the girl responded easily, contentedly, her thin fingers stroking her bunny’s long floppy ears. “We don’t need to go around trying to prove that they exist, you know. We don’t need any explanations. Just as long as we can see them, they are real.”
“But what if they aren’t? What if they are just the imaginary constituents of an undeveloped six-year-old mind?”
Krystal gave Heechul an even look. “Do you really believe that?”
Heechul shook his head vehemently. “No.”
“Then don’t worry about it so much.” Krystal’s face brightened. “Aw, look, they finished their tea!”
And sure enough, the cups in front of their respective stuffed animals were empty.)
Amber is a nice bunny, Han Geng remarked on their way back home. She had a cute twitchy nose.
Heechul scowled, kicking a small rock down the street. “Han Geng, are you real?”
Do you want me to be?
“Yes.”
Then I’m real.
“Okay.”
Rolling down the hill on their wagon became a habit of theirs whenever there was nothing good to watch on the television (or when they were avoiding Dad and his ‘character-building’ chores). It was boring, but it gave Heechul something to do.
“What does falling in love feel like?” Heechul asked as they whizzed down the hillside, teeth chattering from the bumpiness of the ride.
It depends on the person.
“What did it feel like for you, then?”
Han Geng thought for a moment, and then let out a happy little growl from deep in his throat. It felt wonderful.
Heechul smiled. “I can’t wait until I fall in love.”
The wagon flew and crashed into a tree branch, and the two passengers laughed and laughed until their ribs hurt.
(“We sure crashed really high up on this tree,” Heechul noticed, looking down from where they were positioned. “That was quite a ride! We should do that again!”
If we can get down, Han Geng pointed out, an amused tiger smile on his black lips.
“If we can get down,” Heechul agreed, giggling as he dangled his legs.)
It was Heechul’s father’s turn to put Heechul to sleep that night, which consisted of wrestling the boy out of his outside clothes and into his Star Wars pajamas, telling him a bedtime story, and reassuring him that no, Heechul, there are no monsters under your bed, I promise. The routine was standard, but this time, Heechul called out just as his father was about to leave the room.
“Dad, why don’t you ever say goodnight to Han Geng?” Heechul inquired accusingly. “He’s been a good tiger and he hasn’t eaten you no matter how many times I ask him to.”
Heechul’s father rolled his eyes. “Thank you for not eating me, Han Geng. Good night.”
“And Dad?”
“Yes, Heechul?”
“Where do we go when we die?”
Heechul’s father froze. “What kind of question is that? Go to sleep, Heechul.” The bedroom light closed and the door clicked shut.
“That usually means that he doesn’t know the answer, not like he would ever admit it,” Heechul sighed. “Hey, Han Geng, you still awake?”
Yes, Han Geng hummed, long tiger purrs reverberating throughout his large orange and black body.
“Do you know where we go when we die?”
No, the tiger answered, yawning. Why do you ask?
Heechul deflated. Well, at least Han Geng was honest about it. “Well, I found you on my doorstep, and it was a really random encounter. Or maybe Destiny came into play-I don’t know. But what if I wake up one day and I don’t see you anymore?” The six-year-old shuddered. “I just wanted to know if we would end up in the same place eventually. You know, just so that in the small chance that either you or I die before our time is up, I would be content with the knowledge that we will be able to see each other again.”
Han Geng threw his front paw over the child’s small shoulder and pressed close until Heechul’s head was snug under his chin. Sleep, Heechul.
And Heechul slept with his face buried into Han Geng’s soft chest, heart swelling with unprecedented warmth at being the only one who was allowed to see Han Geng for what he truly was, at being the only one who could see this big powerful amazing tiger that he called his best friend.
(His soul mate.)