HunHan: A Puppy's Tale

Oct 26, 2013 00:25

Title: A Puppy's Tale
Fandom: EXO
Pairing: HunHan (somewhat?)
Rating: PG-13
Wordcount: 6120
Warnings: Animals, highlight: character death
Summary: Luhan considers himself a smart puppy. Sehun just wants to be a good puppy.

A/N: More or less a direct adaptation of Mark Twain's "A Dog's Tale" which - well, if you haven't read it, go fucking read it and bawl your eyes out. I did. Anyways, while all of my WIPs were lost along with my computer, this is all I have for you for now. I'm sorry, bear with me. But hey, we all love us some HunHan, right?
A/N 2: I honestly didn't realize how much of a euphemism the washing scene before I read it again. Truthfully, I swear. Freud was right.


Luhan usually considered himself pretty smart for a puppy. He would boast to all the other puppies in the neighborhood that he was a crossbreed, and they only looked at him in awe, because they didn’t know what ‘crossbreed’ meant, but surely it sounded very nice when Luhan said it, so it must be something quite extraordinary. He also used other very nice words, such as ‘inconspicuous’, ‘hydrant’ and ‘insurance’. When one of the other puppies asked what ‘insurance’ meant, Luhan simply replied that it was a brush nice owners used on puppy fur.

“Of course, that must be it,” the asker had agreed, and so they all decided that Luhan was indeed very smart.

Now Luhan, even though he was obviously much cleverer than the puppies around him, lived a rather nice life where he played with other puppies during the day and came home to his owners and mother in the evening. As he grew older though, he came to dislike going home a little, because the humans were old and boring, and never wanted to play with him. His brothers and sisters all disappeared sooner or later, going away with other, strange humans. His mother said they were ‘adopted’, and so Luhan added this word to his rapidly growing vocabulary.

“What happens when you are adopted?” Luhan asked his mother.

“Then you go away to live with another family,” his mother answered patiently.

“Oh.” Luhan though about this for a second and stretched his still growing, thin limbs. “Then when will I get adopted? It’s no fun when no one wants to play!”

His mother only gave him a gentle lick and promised him that soon, soon someone would come and pick up the last little puppy with golden fur.

And of course, she was right, as mothers tend to be; only some days later, a man - maybe thirty, forty something - came for Luhan, picked him up and sat him in the front seat of his car. Luhan found this very exciting, because the car smelled faintly of leather and the man was younger than the old couple, smiling too, and said he had a beautiful wife who looked very much forward to having a puppy. Luhan was a bit sad to say goodbye to his mother, but to a puppy, the prospect of a new and more fun life seemed ever so promising, and he soon forgot all about his sadness as they drove away from the house.

It didn’t take many days for Luhan to get accustomed to his new life; the house was larger than where he had lived, and much nicer because it didn’t smell so funny. He got a very nice and soft pillow to sleep on (even if the couch looked ever-so tempting, he wasn’t allowed to sleep there, and Luhan learned to be obedient), food two times a day - sometimes more, if he stared at his owners long enough. Then the wife, indeed a beautiful and young woman, would give him an adoring smile and sneak him a little treat - leftovers from their dinner or another snack. Luhan liked her. She would play with him all the time too, throw him sticks or tickle his belly or stroke his fur. Other times, she pulled him on her lap while she read a book or watched the big box Luhan learned was called a ‘teevee’.

Even though the wife was home all the time and always wanted to play with Luhan, the man was almost never home - only during supper and in the evenings. He was at work, Luhan knew, but it took some time before he found out that the man was a ‘scientist’ and worked at a ‘laboratory’ - but Luhan couldn’t see why someone would need to work so much at a place where you go to hide in a box and wash your hands.

Not that it mattered much to him, though; he was happy just the way things were.

Then one day, when the man came home for dinner, but brought someone else with him. Now, that wasn’t terribly unusual; Luhan had been petted by many strangers whom his owners called friends. But it wasn’t just another man from his workplace this time - it was another puppy! Luhan was very excited for this, because he hadn’t seen another puppy for a long, long time. The puppy was a little bit smaller than Luhan (but it must be remembered, that Luhan had grown quite a lot lately, and wasn’t too far from the size of a full-grown dog) and very, very black, but with large, shining eyes that regarded Luhan with an anticipating respect.

Luhan eagerly got closer to the other puppy and sniffed him out, but the dark puppy only darted away at first. Luhan, thinking it was a game, jumped after with a playful bark and felt very satisfied when the little puppy gave the teensiest of a snort back.

The owners laughed at them, and the woman bent down to pick up the new puppy and place him on her lap, just as she had done with Luhan many times before. Luhan felt a bit jealous at this, because he thought only he was supposed to get the loving attention from the wife, but sat down before her and cocked his head a bit to the side as he watched the black puppy.

“Luhan, this is Sehun,” the wife said as she scratched the puppy - Sehun, Luhan thought, Sehun - behind his little pointy ear. “He is going to be your new playmate.”

Playmate? Luhan liked that, but ‘Sehun’ seemed terribly shy, or maybe even a little afraid of him. Could he really be good at playing? Wasn’t it better to just play with the wife? Luhan didn’t think he would have the patience to teach the puppy how to play properly, and hoped he had learned how to wrestle with his brothers and sisters back where he came from.

But Luhan didn’t have to worry about Sehun; he warmed up to Luhan in no time, and knew exactly how to play just how Luhan liked, even better than the wife! The little puppy was always there to play with, and he was never busy. Not to mention, he followed Luhan around during the entire day, so they were never lonely, and even though this annoyed Luhan at times, he mostly thought it was great fun, because Sehun was the best playmate he had ever had. He didn’t say much, but Luhan thought this was okay, because then he could do all the talking and decide the rules when they played.

In the evening, when they had played for hours and were quite tired, they soon developed the habit of lying close together on the large pillow (it was more than large enough for two) and Sehun would cuddle up against Luhan’s side, and Luhan would nuzzle and lick at Sehun’s fur just like his mother had done with him, because he figured that’s what older dogs do with puppies.

Sehun was also a little bit clumsy, since he was still so young, but Luhan found himself taking care of the puppy as best as he could with a patience he didn’t know he had. Maybe it was because he was proud of being able to pass on the knowledge he had acquired after weeks of trial and error.

“You mustn’t run too fast down the stairs,” Luhan told Sehun as sternly as he could when the black puppy tried to sort out his limbs after falling down the final five steps.

“Sorry,” Sehun whimpered quietly.

“You mustn’t run carelessly into the thorn bushes,” Luhan admonished as he licked Sehun’s prickly wounds after he had charged for a ball that rolled underneath the wife’s roses.

“Sorry,” Sehun replied and licked his paw.

“You mustn’t get too close to the fireplace,” Luhan said when Sehun shoved his nose into their water bowl to ease the burn of the spark that escaped to land on his nose.

“Sorry,” Sehun tried to say around the water, but since puppies can’t speak underwater, it only became a gurgle. Luhan snickered at him and gave the little dark body a playful shove.

“I think that’s enough,” he said and watched as Sehun pulled his snout out and rubbed it sorely with his paw. “It won’t get better now.”

“Do I have to live with this burn forever?” Sehun inquired fearfully. He hoped Luhan would say no, because Luhan was smart and always knew the best. If Luhan said it was okay, then it would be.

“Just a day or so,” Luhan replied casually, though he didn’t really know, he just guessed, but it seemed good enough for Sehun, who joined him to wrestle in the hallway - far away from fireplaces, thorn bushes and a little too close to the stairs, but they were on the ground floor, so it was okay.

The wife would come and look at them play and cuddle, and she would always coo at their cuteness. Luhan felt a little guilty because he never played with her anymore and only with Sehun, but the two of them still sat on her lap when she read books or watched the teevee, and she had begun to cough so nastily, so she didn’t seem to mind. More often than not, she was content with only looking at them from afar, and Luhan didn’t worry too much about it, because he liked playing with Sehun more than to worry. Sehun didn’t seem to mind either way.

Sehun didn’t seem to mind much at all, actually; he was mostly content with following everything Luhan did and said, and tried to learn as much as possible about how to be a good dog from the older puppy. There was only one thing Sehun detested which Luhan couldn’t really understand; taking a bath. Once a week, a maid would come and bathe the puppies, and Luhan found this rather enjoyable, because the maid was nice and had soft fingers that massaged the warm water gently into his fur to clean off dirt and sweat from the previous week. It was a bit cold afterwards, but he could shake himself dry, and the bath was always worth it.

Sehun, however, disliked bathing time with a passion, it seemed, and would attempt to growl threateningly at the maid whenever she tried to dip him in the bowl. He didn’t dare to try and bite her, but his little paws tried to push her sturdier hands away whenever she approached. Needless to say, his efforts were futile. She only laughed at him, and Luhan would look on in amusement as well, but Sehun did not like the water. The immediate moment he was out and done, he would dart over to Luhan and hide behind him, scowling up at the maid who still did nothing but laugh at him.

“If only he had liked the water as much as you did, Luhan,” the maid said to the light puppy. “Or if only you could wash him, he would probably let you.”

Luhan thought about this, he thought about it long and hard, and, since he was a smart puppy, soon came up with a solution of how to wash Sehun without him being utterly miserable in the process.

Believe it or not, Luhan wasn’t always this fond of bating, and when he was very little, he remembered his mother licking him not only out of affection, but also to clean his baby fur when he was so young that he might drown in the water. Luhan thought that if his mother could lick him clean, then surely he could lick Sehun clean too.

He gave this proposal to Sehun, who reluctantly agreed - he hadn’t been licked to get clean in ever-so long, but since it was Luhan who came up with this idea, it was probably okay. So he obediently laid down on the kitchen floor and let Luhan’s tongue dart all over his body to clean it from every offending piece of dirt. He whined a little when Luhan got too rough and almost pushed him over, but mostly, he found it surprisingly comfortable. Certainly much more than the pool the maid tried to trick him into. And Luhan, even though he was inexperienced and hesitant at times, was very gentle, and took his time to be thorough with the dark puppy. His ears, which Luhan loved to bite and tug at when they played, were given special care and an extra round of licks and nuzzles that made Sehun sigh in contentness.

“You’re spoiled,” Luhan complained after one such session as he laid down next to Sehun and rested his head on Sehun’s newly-cleaned back.

“What does ‘spoiled’ mean?” Sehun asked, but only half-caring for the answer.

“It means you have a nice playmate,” Luhan explained somewhat vaguely, but he himself thought it was perfectly reasonable. Sehun, who had learned over time that Luhan was always right, only snorted a little in reply and was content with his answer.

Then autumn came, and Luhan and Sehun couldn’t play so much outside anymore, so they tried to stay inside, but it wasn’t as spacious there and it soon became dark as well. Luhan didn’t like the dark much, because he couldn’t see all that well (not that he was scared of it - of course not!) but Sehun didn’t seem to be much bothered by it, and Luhan would joke that when Sehun crept along the shadows, it was impossible to set him apart from it. Sehun would use this to his advantage when they played, and hide from Luhan where he couldn’t see only to pounce on him when he got close enough. This became a new kind of game for the two of them, though Luhan would have wished that he could be the hunter sometimes too, but Sehun was just that much better at hiding and stalking.

Since they spent most of their time playing by themselves, it wasn’t much of a change when the wife one day left the house and never came back. Did she go away for a holiday, perhaps? But her husband still came home in the evenings and ate dinner by himself, so probably not. But the puppies didn’t bother thinking too much of this. The man, even though he didn’t play with them or coo at them or pull them on his lap, still filled their food bowls and took them out for a walk occasionally, so the change wasn’t all that big to them.

They played and jumped around like nothing else in the world mattered, because to the two of them, it didn’t.

It was a bleak October day when the man wordlessly took the two puppies with him to work - at the ‘laboratory’, and they were very excited to see this new and strange place.

“Are we going to have to wash our paws today, too?” Sehun asked Luhan, and snorted in distaste, because he still didn’t much like bathing.

“No, silly,” Luhan chided him and nudged him playfully. “Dogs don’t wash themselves at the labaratory.”

When they jumped out of the car and obediently (as obedient as playful puppies can be) followed their owner through a maze of buildings and doors and hallways, Luhan kept trying to remember where they went in case their owner got lost and he had to be the rescue dog, but eventually gave up. Even he wasn’t smart enough to keep up with all these similar-looking corners and identical offices.

Then they were lead through two double-doors (“just like home!” Sehun said) and made to wait as the man put on a strange white coat and smelly gloves and weird glasses. Luhan wondered idly if the get-up was related to the hiding inside stalls, because they were surely not useful when washing your hands - especially the gloves seemed very counter-productive - and what else could you do in a laboratory?

But the laboratory didn’t look anything like Luhan knew it to be. He thought there were rows of boxes stacked along one wall, and a number of sinks and mirrors at the other wall - with a bunch of paper towels in a useful, smaller box. There were some sinks here, true, but they were not prominent and hidden between a diverse amount of other larger, foreign equipment that Luhan had never even imagined. Other men - scientists, Luhan remembered - were there, and greeted their owner as he approached, and a few of them bent down to greet the two puppies.

“Hello, there,” one particularly old man with huge whiskers smiled at Luhan and held out a gloved hand for him to sniff. Luhan didn’t need to sniff; he had smelt the horrible smell from miles away, and would not willingly rub his nose against that hand, even if the man looked nice.

Sehun noticed Luhan’s disgust, and shyly backed away in the same manner.

“He’s a bit scared, that one,” their owner said and gesticulated to Sehun. Luhan thought he could have had the decency to use Sehun’s name, even if the other men didn’t know him. Then again, his owner probably knew how to deal with humans better than him.

“Is he old?”

“Not very - just a few months.”

If Luhan was a bit miffed by the lack of attention, he didn’t show it - after all, Sehun did have shinier and darker fur and softer paws than him. Sehun obviously didn’t feel comfortable with all the focus on him, but the humans weren’t aggressive, so Luhan figured Sehun would just have to deal with it. He had to, if he was someday going to grow up and be a strong and brave puppy like Luhan! Then there would be no hiding and whimpering and sniffling.

Besides, Luhan had other things to think about. He wasn’t sure if he quite liked those men, and the place they were in. It was kind of cold and in boring colors, and no matter where he turned, things smelt funnily and - oh! Now he knew what it was that unsettled him the most. The place looked sort of similar to somewhere he had been before, before Sehun came around. When he was very, very little, and still with his mother and brothers and sisters, the old couple had taken him to a dog doctor to have him stick Luhan with something sharp and uncomfortable. Luhan had purposefully forgotten the name of that sharp thing, solely because he hated that event and wished to never experience it again.

He really hoped he wouldn’t be stung again now - once had been quite enough, thank you. Maybe it was for Sehun? That would explain why they were so interested in him. But shouldn’t Sehun have done this already as well?

And Luhan was pretty sure the dog doctors didn’t work at laboratories.

“Now, Luhan, you just wait here,” his owner interrupted Luhan’s musings and led him away from the other men and the little crowd around Sehun. He resisted a little, confused as he was, but his owner tugged a bit too harshly on the leash, and Luhan had no choice but to follow. The leash was fastened around the foot of a shiny, thin table where Luhan could almost see his own twisted reflection. He didn’t like it much and stared up at his owner in a way that the wife had always petted him for, but his owner didn’t even blink.

“Stay here, Luhan,” he said as he rose and walked over to the other men. “Stay.”

Luhan knew perfectly well what ‘stay’ meant, of course, and he was a disciplined dog - somewhat, at least - and sat down. Either way, he couldn’t have gone anywhere, because the least was annoyingly short. But what was he supposed to do now? Just sit around while the men studied Sehun from all angles?

Luhan had studied Sehun, so to speak, during their time together, and had come to know most of what there was to know about him.

His fur was black, all black, except for one tiny white spot near the base of his right ear. It was also very, very soft, never growing coarser even as Sehun became older. Luhan had proudly proclaimed to be a crossbreed, but he didn’t know what Sehun was - in any case, he seemed to be something that would grow bigger than Luhan, because Luhan was practically done growing, while Sehun continued to become larger all the time. Sehun didn’t make much noise, not when he was happy or when he was displeased or scared. Luhan made lots of sounds, but Sehun mostly stayed quiet. Luhan would be eager and curious when they explored the world, but Sehun kept holding back as if he was scared. Sehun had a smooth and elegant tail, while Luhan’s was more fluffy. Luhan had droopy ears - Sehun had pointy.

They were very different, Luhan came to realize, but he still liked the younger puppy very much. And he was almost a bit proud of him, too - because he had helped Sehun a lot when he came to the little family, after all, and he thought Sehun would become a fine dog when he was done growing.

But still, Luhan thought to himself as the men tried petting and holding and lifting Sehun - there wasn’t anything special about Sehun, so why were all these men taking such an interest in him?

“Alright, time to get to business,” another of them said - he had no hair, Luhan noticed with curiously - and walked towards a table similar to the one Luhan was tied to. So, they were going to tie up Sehun as well. Why, though? Why would their owner take them here only to tie them up? Couldn’t they have stayed at home?

But their owner didn’t lead Sehun away like he had done with Luhan. Instead, he lifted him up - a bit awkwardly, since Sehun was bigger than he used to - and put him on top of the table. Luhan found this a bit odd, since there weren’t anything to tie Sehun to on top of the table. He tried to step closer to see what they were doing, but his leash was tight and the men kept moving to and fro and putting themselves between the table and Luhan. He scoffed, and tried to find another angle, but every attempt was unsuccessful.

Eventually, he resigned himself to laying down and sulk. Not only because he was ignored, but also because Sehun wasn’t ignored along with him, and now they wouldn’t even let him see what was going on! Those humans. They weren’t being very reasonable today.

A sudden yelp from the table - from Sehun - made Luhan perk up. Maybe they were doing the sharp, pointy thing after all?

But Sehun’s pitiful noise didn’t stop with that one yelp - several more followed, with whimpers and sniffles and an occasional bark as well. Luhan soon realized, this wasn’t just one prick, but something more. The humans were continuously causing Sehun pain, and he sobbed and cried out for Luhan.

Luhan quickly stood up, and tried to run towards the table before a tug on his neck reminded him of the leash. He tugged and pulled against it in vain, but caused nothing more than a slight shake to the table. Instead he started growling, barking when he didn’t receive any response from the crowd around the table. The humans didn’t pay him any heed, not even his owner - his owner! How could he let them hurt Sehun so? Luhan couldn’t see him right now, but he wouldn’t allow one of his puppies to suffer like that? Maybe the other men had done something to him as well.

Luhan continued barking and tugging in desperation, only urged on by Sehun’s continuous pained sounds.

Luhan, help!

Please stop!

Don’t hurt me!

Luhan!

Luhan hated those sounds with a passion, he decided then and there as he pulled the leash, he hated hearing the sweet, shy little puppy that was his best friend and playmate suffering so much and for no reason - no reason that Luhan could think of at least. What had Sehun done to deserve this? Why were they doing this to him? Why couldn’t they stop! Each whimper was like another tug not to Luhan’s neck, but his heart, and the cries made him want to bite and scratch every single one of the humans who were causing Sehun such pain.

Sehun was his little puppy - his to protect, but Luhan was failing!

It will be okay, Sehun! I’m coming!

But just as sudden as Sehun’s noises had begun, they disappeared altogether, and the only sounds running through the laboratory were Luhan’s growls and struggles against the confinement.

Did that mean Sehun was okay? Luhan wondered.

No, it couldn’t - Sehun couldn’t possibly be ‘okay’ after all that!

Then why wasn’t he saying so to Luhan? Just a reassuring bark or snort or anything! Luhan needed to know, but those men were still in his way, and Sehun wasn’t doing anything, and… What was going on?

He pulled against the table once more, giving a little bark as he did so, and a couple of the men turned to look at him, but soon enough their attention was on the table - and presumably Sehun. Luhan barked again, but he was ignored once more. This was getting increasingly frustrating, he thought.

Suddenly his owner was there again, crouching by him and petting his head slightly, scratching his floppy ears with a small smile.

“Don’t worry, Luhan,” he said quietly. “Everything’s fine.”

Everything’s fine? Is he sure about that? Didn’t he hear Sehun’s sounds earlier? But Luhan trusted his owner, so he just wrinkled his nose and sat down. If his owner said was fine, then it probably was.

The men around the table kept buzzing and running around for a bit, collecting and taking away various sorts of funny-looking gadgets and discussing advanced-sounding things between them - Luhan didn’t understand much of what was going on, and he still didn’t know anything about what had happened to Sehun. Was he okay - where was he?

He still smelt the other puppy, faintly, in between all the other icky smells, so he guessed he was still in the room at least. Not that it helped Luhan much, because from what he could see, the room was very big. And Sehun could be anywhere.

Luhan didn’t know how much time had passed when suddenly, his owner was there again, crouching before Luhan and unknotting his leash. Luhan sprang up immediately in excitement - finally, something was happening again!

“We’re going home now, Luhan,” his owner said, and Luhan noticed that he had taken of the strange white coat and the ugly gloves. Home - Luhan liked the sound of that.

Where was Sehun, though?

His owner didn’t hold Sehun’s leash - and Luhan couldn’t see Sehun shyly lurking around anywhere either. He could still smell him, faintly, but his owner didn’t seem concerned with Sehun missing. Luhan looked up at him curiously, but followed out the double-doors without resistance.

Sehun’s scent didn’t follow them out the doors, and soon Luhan couldn’t smell him at all.

They were walking through the halls and corridors again, his owner all quiet and not looking at Luhan, and Luhan mostly confused. Why wasn’t Sehun coming along with them? Was he staying behind at the laboratory tonight? But why?

Soon enough, Luhan was ushered into the car and fastened securely, just like before - but still no sign of Sehun. Luhan sniffed around the car, maybe Sehun had come out before them and was hiding?

There were still traces of his smell on the seat, but not strong enough. Luhan gave a slight snort of displeasure, and his owner glanced at him, but didn’t say anything. He just sat down, started the engine and drove off.

When they came back to the house, Luhan eyed a new chance of seeing Sehun again. If there was one other place Sehun might be, it would be at their house. Their home, after all¸ where he had taught Sehun so many things - more or less how to be a good puppy.

But Sehun wasn’t there.

And he didn’t come home that night either.

Or the next day.

For the first time in a long while, Luhan was the only puppy in the house, and now that he didn’t have Sehun to play with, he noticed how empty and quiet it was - the wife still hadn’t come back, and his owner was still so much away for work. He was lonely, all by himself.

Every day, when the owner got back, Luhan expected him to bring Sehun back with him. He still hadn’t seen Sehun since that day at the laboratory, and he really missed him - and he wanted to ask what had happened to make Sehun cry out so much back then. Luhan was still a curious puppy.

But the owner never brought Sehun back with him.

Luhan became quite depressed when he was left all by himself, and the few times the owner was home, he seemed to be the same way - without any energy, smiles or affectionate words and gestures to Luhan. He had never been particularly attentive - that had been his wife - but now that it was just the two of them, Luhan realized exactly how detached he was.

He missed Sehun. He wished Sehun would come back.

Luhan didn’t have anything to fill his days with anymore, he had forgotten how to play by himself, and no one was ever around to play with him. He got bored and lonely, and spent most of his time lying down and doing nothing at all, or wandering aimlessly through the empty house. He found no pleasure in doing anything, though. Sometimes he even imagined that Sehun was next to him and asking him questions of how to be a good puppy, hoping to get Luhan to divulge some of his greater wisdom.

The greater wisdom Luhan had acquired through life experience - but still not enough to know anything now when it mattered.

He wanted to find Sehun and tell him that he was a good puppy after all.

One day, it started snowing - snow! Luhan remembered having seen that before. He had played in it, running around and falling down and burying himself in the wet, cold thing. Oh, how he wanted to show Sehun the snow!

He could just imagine the puppy’s reaction to it. Sehun would be hesitant, sticking his nose to it carefully and timidly, but when the cold touched the tip of his nose, he would retract and whimper and hide behind Luhan. Luhan would then reassure him that it was all okay, snow was just fun, once you got over the cold. And Sehun had good fur, didn’t he? He would stay nice and warm, and even if he got a bit wet, he would soon dry off when they got inside after a full, nice day of playing in the snow. Sehun would then cautiously step into the snow, and Luhan would throw himself onto the dark puppy and cause both of them to tumble around in the snow. Sehun would soon get over his scepticism, and then they would play around like the innocent little puppies they were.

Luhan liked that image.

Only a day or so after the snow first fell, however, his owner came home early and immediately searched out Luhan.

“Luhan, come on,” he called and picked up the leash. Luhan, figuring they would go for a normal walk, obediently trotted over. Though he had always had a certain amount of discipline, he had lost most traces of mischief now that he was alone and had no one to fool around with.

His owner fastened the hook to his collar and led him out, but instead of taking a trip down the sidewalk, like Luhan expected, they went to the car and Luhan soon found himself securely fastened in the front seat.

“We’re going somewhere special today, boy,” his owner said, but didn’t smile. Odd, Luhan thought, special places were supposed to be nice.

They drove in silence for half an hour or so - Luhan watched the white scenery outside with a strange sense of fascination, because he could barely remember the last time he had seen snow. It seemed so long ago now.

When they stopped, it was at the edge of a field of some kind, completely white except for a small green-brownish patch underneath a tree some yards away. There were no houses or buildings nearby, only a worn fence and pine trees. Luhan’s owner took off the leash, apparently trusting Luhan not to run off too far - where would he go, and why would he do so, anyway? He still didn’t remember how to entertain himself properly.

Besides, he was too curious about the business the owner was conducting. He had opened the back door to the car, to that big, empty room at the end - but it wasn’t empty today. There was a strange brown box in there, which smelt somewhat peculiar, and a little pole with a flat, squared end - Luhan could with some certainty tell that this was a ‘shovel’. But what his owner needed it for, he couldn’t tell. He didn’t know what a shovel was supposed to do.

But his owner grabbed the box under one arm - not without some effort, it seemed - and the shovel in the other hand.

“Now, Luhan, here’s some unfinished business,” he grunted out and made his way towards the bare spot under the large tree. Luhan followed, out of curiosity if nothing else, and sat down by the tree when they reached it. His owner put down the queer box and, with the shovel-thingy, began digging in the ground.

Oh! Luhan knew what was going on now. His owner was going to bury the box in the ground - just like Luhan had taught Sehun to do with his treasures! That had to be it.

Luhan wanted to help, but the shovel looked kind of sharp and hard, so he let his owner do the digging. If he wanted help, he would have to ask for it and give Luhan some proper sign.

Instead, he turned to the box. It was a light brown, with darker patches where the wet snow had fallen and melted into the surface. Some silver streaks here and there, probably good for something as well. For keeping it closed, maybe? It certainly was very neatly closed. Luhan could barely smell anything from it. Barely - but not quite. The smell was somewhat unpleasant, but Luhan didn’t know anything to compare it with. There was something vaguely familiar about it too, but Luhan couldn’t for the life of him pinpoint what it was. Probably nothing important, then.

Maybe Sehun would have known. Even if Luhan was the oldest and smartest, Sehun had some surprisingly good ideas at times. And his nose had, like his eyes, always been much better than Luhan’s. He wished Sehun was here.

“There we go,” his owner said, and stepped away from the hole he had dug and the pile next to it. Luhan wrinkled his nose, because the hole wasn’t what he would call ‘good quality’, but then again, his owner was only a human, so he couldn’t expect him to dig holes like a dog. Besides, it was fairly large, and he did it quickly, Luhan would give him that.

“Say, Luhan, don’t you think this is a nice little hole?”

No. No, he did not think that, since you asked.

“It will be proper for a burial, don’t you think?” His owner continued, and moved over to grab the box with both hands.

Burial? What was that, burial? Luhan didn’t know this word, but he didn’t like it.

“He deserves that, at least,” his owner continued as he dumped the box in the middle of the hole. Luhan vaguely wondered whom his owner was talking about, and why he deserved what. So many things going on that Luhan didn’t understand - it was making him uneasy. “He was a good puppy.”

A good puppy?

Luhan stood up.

“My wife always liked him too much,” the man said as he began to shift the pile of dirt back into the hole, covering the box little by little. It didn’t take much before it was completely covered up, and only a brown lump in the terrain remained of the so-called ‘burial’.

“So now, rest in peace. I’m sorry, Sehun.”

Luhan howled.

kpop, exo, fanfiction, pairing: hunhan

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