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They all met years before their most awaited debut.
It was Seungcheol and Jihoon at first. They were the roots, as the other members liked to say. Together they established the bond, digging deeper on the soil as their other soulmates filed in the company and made the once-seed grow into a magnificent elder tree. It was one day when Seungcheol had all the practice room to himself when a staff unceremoniously entered with a boy in tow, a head smaller than him and at a split second Seungcheol even thought that it was a girl.
All mental assessments flew outside the windows when Seungcheol felt his heart beating rapidly against his chest and the butterflies in his stomach going rabid as the new boy neared. It was cliché but it was really true; everything went grey and every sound went out like a deceased lifeline to Seungcheol's ears, and all he could see was this pretty snow-white boy looking up at him.
Jihoon smiled warmly at him, despite Seungcheol's underlying fear that the boy's going to do justice of his cold sharp eyes. Both boys felt warmer than usual, and that's when they're sure they were each other's, the firsts of the thirteen. There was no need to check their rings identical to their soulmates but the boys still did so out of instinct.
"Choi Seungcheol. You can skip the formalities," Seungcheol beamed and Jihoon blushed under his fringe as he took the older's extended hand.
"Lee Jihoon."
Their smiles only grew wider and they were inseparable ever since.
They always knew they're soulmates of thirteen. Their silver ring with thirteen edges was basically a giveaway as it shined and looked regally dainty on their pinkies. So it was no surprise when a Kwon Soonyoung came barrelling into Seungcheol and Jihoon’s lives, boisterous yet adorably charming. What's surprising was that they met him under the same company; what a small world, indeed.
"Hi! I'm Kwon Soonyoung!"
Despite Seungcheol insisting to drop honorifics, Soonyoung was just adamant about it. Seungcheol just hoped the others won't be as stubborn as the three of them, or maybe someone would be older than him so he won't have the need to deal with twelve (okay, plus himself) stubborn mules in the near future.
"Lee Jihoon," the smaller said coldly and Seungcheol nudged him with an elbow when Soonyoung visibly pouted. It was all Jihoon was waiting for to give their third a loving smile and fond eyes.
"Kidding, silly," Jihoon chuckled. "You're home now."
The members said that if Seungcheol and Jihoon were the roots, Soonyoung was the shoot. The first visually exposed sign of life, of growth into something stronger and beautiful. Hope and the yearning for their other soulmates grew fiercer when their third joined them for eternity. Altogether, they're going to be the pillars of their own sacred temple awaiting for ten more souls.
The wait wasn't even that long and stressful, for months after Soonyoung's arrival, their fourth fell like an angel from the heavens. An easy free fall, like whoever's up there just wanted their wait to be over. Then came their fifth, sixth, seventh, all down to their twelfth– all as easy as their fourth's arrival.
All they're waiting for was their thirteenth to come home. Their impending debut be damned.
But they all should have seen it coming.
"Still nothing?"
Wonwoo asks softly from the couch, eyes expectant and twinkling with hope. The rest had just gotten home from a fansigning event and Wonwoo, diagnosed with gastritis, had to sit out from a couple of their schedules. And that meant he had to sit out from their mission too.
The despaired atmosphere and collective sighs pretty much gave the answer. Seungcheol doesn't even want to look at Wonwoo, knowing well that the boy's face fell instantly.
"Did you take your meds?" Wonwoo nods at Jeonghan's inquiry, the latter pressing a soft kiss on the younger's hair. From the corner of the room, Joshua faintly smiles at Jeonghan's attempt to steer the topic away. They wouldn't want one of their soulmates stressing out when his first priority should be recovering.
Gently, Seokmin finds his way to snuggle his body beside Wonwoo, draping his thick fuzzy blanket over him and his hyung. The singer was practically dead tired. Wonwoo smiles softly as he rests his head over Seokmin's. The others take this as cue to join in; god knows how everyone in the room needs each other's warmth, the comfort of home familiar and welcoming as their skins touch. It wasn't enough. It still doesn't sit right for them.
Seungcheol sits on the end of the couch, Mingyu instinctively leans his head against the leader's shoulder. Jihoon accompanies Hansol and Junhui on the carpeted floor, head resting against Minghao's thighs. Soonyoung stays on the other side of the couch, sitting on the armrest and arms draping at the back of Seungkwan's head. Although in different spots, the leaders never miss the weary and longing looks they exchanged between the three of them, all while their other soulmates stared at nothing.
Seungcheol remembers how other people constantly told them how the twelve of them were already enough, told them how they all fit together like the twelve months in a year, that they should stay in that number simply because there are twelve star signs and twelve means perfection.
Jihoon remembers getting ready for Project17 and how the make-up noona jokingly told him how easy it was for him to find twelve of his soulmates, that she bets looking for their thirteenth is going to be as hard as it was easy to find the twelve. Jihoon remembers laughing it off. Ridiculous, he thought at the time.
Soonyoung remembers reading an article online about soulmates. A trio as soulmates? Not unheard of, it's quite a normal thing to see when they go strolling along the Han River, donned in bucket hats and masks. What doesn't sit well with the public is that the number isn't an even; anytime, somehow, there's someone who'll get excluded, left with no choice but to walk at the back because the streets were too narrow to fit them three. Soonyoung remembers how he promised to himself that he won't let any of his soulmates feel excluded.
Unconsciously, all twelve of them smooths a finger on their ring, the thirteen edges against their skin a constant reminder of their last and missing piece.