Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

001 is alive. 001 is alive. 001 is…

The words kept playing over and over in Kian’s head while a grin played across his face. He flipped a knife around his hand, over and over until the handle settled comfortably in his palm, his calluses aligning with the groves. Then the process started again. The action was so familiar he didn’t even notice when he’d started. 

He’d been sent to drag the brat back or kill him if necessary. He hadn’t expected to see the kid tied up by the no-name assholes Camp kept around for shits and gigs. The only way those guys could get one over on a number was if the kid was dead or dying. Which would have saved Kian the trouble of taking him back, but he couldn’t let those amateurs get away with killing a comrade. Only he could do that.

It was a rush, taking out so many guys at once. He reveled in the stupid expressions on their faces as they realized just how out-classed they were. The knife stopped. 

Then there was him. 001.

Like a shiny new coin, the sight of 001’s figure darting around the warehouse glinted behind Kian’s closed eyes. There was no way he could mistake it. That had to have been 001. And the guy with him was most certainly the assumed dead 006. No one else would have bothered coming to save 032. No one else would have cared. Kian certainly didn’t. 

The day 001 vanished, Kian had gone on a rampage, breaking the ribs of every Camp member that tried to stop him. His rival, his prey , was gone. 001 had been his ideal, all smooth and simple efficiency, wrapped up in a blank expression that Kian wanted to shatter. One of his greatest wishes had been to take out 001 himself, but the fucker up and left, supposedly dying. He’d spent nights, when a kill was just not satisfying enough, pledging to find and murder whoever had taken out 001. 

Then someone calling themselves ‘Jin’ started showing up, getting a reputation in the mercenary leagues and catching Kian’s eye. Like a ghost, the mercenary showed up, did his job, and left taking his pay and vanishing into thin air. 

Kian grinned, to think he'd assumed Jin had been the one to finally end 001. He’d been a fool. No one could take that monster out and walk away unscathed. If he was right, 001 was alive and in Korea living a peaceful life after betraying the Camp. He frowned. The camp not telling him 001 was alive was weird but not something to worry about now. He’d just do the job and head back with no one the wiser. He pulled out a satellite phone and dialed his COs number. 

A gruff voice picked up and demanded. “What?”

“Job’s done, boss!” Kian grinned. “032 is down and those amateurs have been handled. Gonna need a clean-up crew in the warehouse though.”

“What did you do with 032?” 

“The river. Plenty of rocks on Korean riverbanks, ya know?” If what he thinks happened happened, 032 is about to vanish so effectively he might as well be dead. 006 would see to that, and their bastard of a CO would never find out.

“Excellent. Return to base for your next assignment.” 

“Actually, I’m gonna pass.”

Across an ocean and several countries, camp commander Isaac Watershed ground his teeth. 004’s flippant attitude had always rubbed him the wrong way. Even the kid's insistence on being called ‘Kian’ when he’d been picked up at an orphanage with no memory and no name grated in his nerves. 

“ What did I hear you say?” 

“I’m gonna pass, Boss,” the brat repeated. “You going senile in your old age?”

“Return to Camp 004!” Isaac fumed. “That’s an order!”

“No can do, Boss! I think I’m due for a bit of vacation. Plus, I heard 006 spotted 001 here a while back.”

Isaac clenched his fists, nearly shattering the phone. “006 was eliminated in Siberia. And 001 has been dead for years. Return to base!”

004 hmm-ed into the receiver. “I think I’ll check for myself. See you in a few weeks, Boss!”

The sarcastic address and following click of disconnection had Isaac seeing red. 

Without thinking he flung the phone into the wall of their temporary operations center. The resulting clatter of broken plastic did nothing to soothe his irritation. 004’s obsession with 001 had long been an issue. Even after 001 was declared dead, he’d still followed after him like a pit bull with a lead. True, they’d never found the body, but with everything that happened that day, 001 would have to be a true monster to have survived. 

Isaac remembered the way the setting sun had painted everything red, obscuring the blood trail they’d been following. There’d been 20 shots fired, and four of them had landed at various points in 001’s body, not to mention the stab wound he’d gotten while tussling with another number. The boy was dead for sure. 

And good riddance! Isaac still remembered those dead eyes following him when he gave out assignments. That feeling that a child barely reaching his shoulder would kill him if ordered without even changing his expression. That’s exactly what happened to the previous 001. 

What made it worse was that the other numbers followed his lead without question. The younger ones adored him because he protected them, albeit callously and without any visible warmth. The older numbers respected his ruthlessness or, like 004, followed him around out of a sick sense of worship bordering on obsession.

Isaac shuddered. Yes, it’s best for everyone that 001 stays dead. Let 004 chase his ghost for a little while and then he’ll come crawling back soon enough. He’d long ago stopped believing in God, but for a moment Isaac considered praying.

In Korea…

Ijin’s first Karaoke experience was going about as well as could be expected. Though the major had done his best, there was only so much a brush-up on civilian life could do to prepare him for this situation. Yuna was slightly flushed and giggling while thrusting the microphone in his face. 

“C’mon,” she slurred. “You can’t sound that bad!” The soju they’d ordered was definitely getting to her head. Yeongchan, who was just as flushed, nodded alongside her. Ijin wondered how the two people who’d drunk the least could be the most gone. It had taken three shots to get Yuna drunk. Yeongchan had been down after one. 

“I’ve been told listening to cats screech would be preferable to hearing me sing.” The soldiers who’d done their best to prep him for normal teenagerhood had been very frank when critiquing his faults. One had very gently told Ijin not to go near a microphone for the rest of his life if he could help it. 

Seokju was busy trying to pull Yuna back while Jaehyeong and Hyeokjin were flipping through the catalog to pick out a song for him. Meanwhile, Dayun was settled in his side, nodding off. 

“Oppa,” she whispered, fighting back a yawn. “You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to.” 

“Oh, yes he does!” Jaehyeong burst up and snatched the mic from Yuna to drop it in Ijin’s lap. “I finally found something Mr. Perfect sucks at and I intend to enjoy it!” He whipped around. “Hyeokjin hit play!” 

With the press of a button, rhythmic strumming filled the room followed by a sax riff. The screen lit up with shifting colors and three dots telling him to wait. One by one, all of his friends started giggling. Apparently, they all knew the obnoxious song. 

“What?” Ijin asked.  Hyeokjin gaped.

“Dude, you’ve never heard the ‘Tequila’ song?” He stared at Ijin with something akin to horror and the mercenary-turned-student wondered, not for the first time if Major Kang had missed imparting some essential knowledge relating to a normal teenage life. Ijin shrugged. 

“I don’t listen to music often.” 

“I wouldn’t call that ‘music’,” Seokju muttered, finally succeeding in getting Yuna settled.

“Shut up, man!” Jaehyeong plopped down between Ijin and Yuna. “I’ll teach you!”

The music continued to play until an english word lit up the screen. Ijin wasn’t sure what it said, but everyone else, not including Seokju who was looking rather constipated, screamed “Tequila!” 

“That’s how you do it!” 

Ijin nodded and waited for the next one. Finally, something even he could sing. 

They left the karaoke place after two rounds of the ‘Tequila’ song, the second of which Ijin had to perform on his own. Seokju dragged Yuna off into a waiting car, while Jaehyeong and Hyeokjin each slung one of Yeonchan’s arms over their shoulders and carted him to a bus stop. Ijin was left alone to piggyback Dayun back to their apartment. 

“Oppa~” she hummed, rubbing her cheek against his shoulder. “I can walk. ‘M not that sleepy.” Ijin chuckled but didn’t give in to her half-hearted wiggling. 

“Just let me carry you.” 

They trudged down the street, Ijin nodding to local residents that stared, still not fully accustomed to seeing him with Dayun. An older woman that ran a tteokbokki cart their grandfather visited a lot offered him a small bag with three portions inside. Ijin hadn’t gotten used to the fiery sauce yet, but he thanked her and accepted it. 

When they were less than a block away from the apartment, Ijin stilled. Something was following them, a presence so faint, he could barely sense it. It couldn’t be 006 or 032, both had only recently left the country and wouldn’t come back even if it was life-or-death.

“Dayun,” he whispered. “Hold on.” Dayun gave a tired moue and hung onto his shoulders wordlessly. Ijin took a single second to adjust her before starting to run. 

He zig-zagged and backtracked between alleys and side routes, getting further and further away from the apartment, still the presence followed. Ijin doubled down, stopping under awnings and ducking into stores hoping to throw the tracker off their scent. By the time the feeling vanished, they’d strayed more than a mile away from their home. 

“Oppa,” Dayun said. “Can we go home now?” Ijin set her down on a bus bench, handing her the bag of cold tteokbokki, and checked around them. 

Whoever had been following them was gone, but he felt uneasy. His sister might not know what he used to do but she knew enough to trust him when he shook his head. A quick text to Seokju confirmed that they could stay at Yuna’s apartment. 

“I’ll call grandpa and explain,” he said. Dayun nodded and dozed some more while they waited on the SW car to come to get them. When it arrived, it was Seokju behind the wheel. 

“I take it I’m not getting an explanation this time either?” he asked, one brow raised sardonically. Ijin shook his head.

“It’s better if-”

“‘It’s better if I don’t know,’” Seokju interrupted him. “I get it. Get in, I want some sleep tonight before we report for training tomorrow.” Ijin nodded and loaded Dayun into the back seat before joining his friend in the front. 

“I appreciate this,” he muttered. Seokju sucked his teeth at him and started driving off.

“Whatever, you still owe me for this.” 

Ijin blinked, he didn’t have any money on him to compensate with. He looked around the car, gaze landing on the bag in the back seat. 

“I’ll give you the tteokbokki.” 

“What?” Seokju looked confused. 

“I don’t have any money.” 

“You what?” Seokju stared at him some more until it seemed to click. “That’s not what I meant, asshole!” 

Chapter Text

His classmate wound up eating the tteokbokki while Ijin changed into a borrowed pair of pajamas. Seokju rolled his eyes at the way the fabric stretched across Ijin’s chest, almost to the point of being too tight. 

“Alright, Super Boy,” he said around a mouthful of food. Forgive him for being snappy but tteokbokki was not a proper reward for being woken up before the ass-crack of dawn to go pick up a friend. “What are we dealing with?”

“It’s better if you don't know,” Ijin said again. He took the opportunity to look around. This was his first time being in the room of someone his own age. It surprised him how much it resembled his, albeit with a few more knick knacks. Then again, maybe the future assistant to the heir of the SW group wasn’t a good gauge of normal either. 

“I get that,” Seokju grunted before pointing his chopsticks nearly up Ijin’s nose. “But if something is threatening you, Yuna could get involved, and that can’t happen. So I need at least three details pronto. Starting with who it is.” He waved the chopsticks indicating that he should start talking. 

Ijin sighed. “I don’t know who it is yet,” he admitted. “I had a feeling someone was following us, but we lost them.” Seokju nodded. 

“Alright, keep going.” 

“I think it’s one of my old associates. So I want Dayun to stay here, just in case. I don’t want them following either of us back to Grandpa.” 

“SW has plenty of rooms, you two can stay for as long as you need.” 

“Thanks.” Ijin smiled. It was nice to have a friend that trusted him, even if he couldn’t tell them everything just yet. 

“You forgot the third thing,” Seokju prompted. 

He startled. There wasn’t anything Ijin could think to say. With so few details it was dangerous to start making assumptions about this follower. 

“I know they’re after me,” he said quietly. That much he was sure of. “It was a familiar presence. Yuna shouldn’t be in trouble but we should keep a closer eye on her and Dayun.”

“Agreed.” Seokju stood up and stretched. “Considering it’s already 3 A.M., the only thing we can do now is go to bed. And thanks to you I have to brush my teeth again.” He punctuated that sentence with a yawn and went to brush his teeth in the adjoining bathroom.

“I’ll take the floor,” Ijin immediately offered. Seokju only had one bed in his room, it'd be impolite to kick him out of it, an dIjin had slept in worse places. Seokju glared at him around his foamy toothbrush. 

“Don’ be a’ idiot,” he garbled. “We can share.” He spat the mouthful into the sink while Ijin considered. 

“I don’t want to put you out.” 

Seokju wiped his face and strolled back into the room. He didn’t spare Ijin more than a glance before turning the covers down on his queen-sized bed and gesturing for his temporary roommate to climb in. 

“I have so many cousins, Ijin,” he grunted while plopping down onto the crisp sheets. “You can’t be worse than sharing with a fussy five-year-old and a high schooler that thinks it's fun to dutch-oven someone three times in one night.” He rolled to his side and patted down his pillow. Ijin cocked his head confused. 

“What’s a dutch oven?” He carefully put one knee on the bed and waited for Seokju to settle.

“Nothing,” Seokju sighed. “Just get in and go to sleep, it’s cold.” 

Ijin chuckled and laid under the covers. Seokju’s bed was large enough but it's not like either of them were small. They knocked shoulders a few times while settling but Ijin was careful to keep to his side and lay still under the fluffy comforter. As his companion’s breathing evened out and leaned towards the tell-tale sign of sleep, Ijin stared up at the ceiling. 

It was odd to share a bed with someone. At camp, they’d only done it when necessary or when they’d first arrived. Scared children tended to cling to each other until that longing for human touch was trained out of them, replaced with a suspicion of their fellow allies. The only person he’d felt safe enough to sleep next to, whether in camp or in the field, was 006. Liam , he mentally corrected himself. 032 had joined them occasionally, settling between the two for as much warmth as the nights would allow. Those were the evenings when Liam had been too tired or worn to push his brother away for his own good. 

His thoughts tried to turn back to who in the camp could have been following them earlier, but the sound of another person sleeping had a lulling effect on him. Ijin found his eyes closing against his wishes and his fuzzy thoughts started to fade. As he drifted off, the image of a young boy with black hair and a too-sharp grin surfaced with aching familiarity. 

The bed was empty when he woke up. Ijin couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a good night's rest. He took a chance to stretch out, enjoying the bed that was much bigger than the one at his apartment. Don’t get him wrong, he was grateful for the room his grandfather had made up for him, and the apartment he now shared with his new family. However, he really appreciated the ability to stretch out with room to spare. He gave himself 30 more seconds before getting up and starting the day. 

Seokju had left a spare toothbrush in the bathroom, along with a towel and cloth for a shower. Ijin went through the motions of brushing his teeth and showering, blinking at the controls before attempting to figure out how they worked. He only burned himself once with the water. 

Once he’d finished showering and changing he poked his head out the door. Seokju was nowhere to be seen, but noise was coming from down the hall. Hedging his bets, Ijin followed it. Yuna, Seokju, and Dayun were sitting around a table piled high with what seemed like every kind of breakfast food known to man. 

“Oppa!” Dayun shot up from the table, a bright smile on her face. “You’re up!”

“Yeah…” Ijin nodded at Seokju and Yuna who was clutching a cup of coffee. 

“You should try these pancakes,” Dayun said as she dragged him to a seat and loaded up his plate. “Do you want whipped cream and fruit?” She looked at him expectantly, like he’d know what that was.

“Um… Sure?” 

Dayun beamed and heaped a pile of fluffy white cream onto his plate and passed it over. As soon as the cloudlike substance touched his tongue, Ijin was in heaven. He quickly scooped up another bite of only the cream, savoring the lightly sweet flavor as it melted in his mouth. When he glanced at the rest of the table, Seokju was giving him a weird look. 

“Does it taste okay?” he asked. Ijin nodded with the spoon still trapped between his lips. “Okay, you just looked constipated for a second.” 

Ijin frowned while Dayun chuckled. 

“That’s Oppa’s ‘yummy’ face,” she clarified. “You should have seen the first time he tried Bulgogi.” Ijin nodded again and took a piece of sausage, mimicking Seokju and swiping it through the pancake syrup before taking a bite. 

“He’s making the face again,” Seokju complained.

As breakfast drew to an end, they hurried out the door and on to school taking one of the SW cars instead of the bus. Ijin had already informed their grandpa that Dayun would be staying with Yuna for a while to catch up while he and Seokju worked on a “project” together. His grandfather seemed to buy the fib and told him to enjoy his time with friends. Ijin still asked Doosik to keep an eye on him. 

“No problem, High-schooler,” the gang member drawled. “We can keep an eye on your gramps for a while.”

“Thank you.” Ijin heard the click of a lighter as a cigarette was lit on the other end of the line. 

“You’ll owe me one,” Doosik grunted. “Treat me to cup noodles some time and we’ll call it even.” 

“Understood.” 

With his grandfather under surveillance, Ijin felt better about leaving and looking for whoever was following him. He left Dayun at school with Yuna and Seokju and got to work.

He started by the tteokbokki stand where he’d first felt the presence. Looking up, there were only a few buildings whose roofs gave a complete view of the surrounding area. He chose the most likely one, a bank. Getting to the top wasn’t difficult, nor was avoiding all of the employees or the lock that did its best to not let him through. The difficulty began when he realized that a Camp member wouldn’t have left any signs of themselves in the area. It was how they were trained. Fight like demons but disappear like ghosts. 

Scowling, Ijin reverted to his old methods of tracking. Following the route he’d taken last night, he skulked along the rooftops. As he’d expected, there were no traces of the tracker, just the usual debris of the average workers enjoying a coffee or cigarette on the roofs. He stopped at the last place he remembered their presence, a parking garage five streets over from the bus stop where Seokju had picked them up. 

As he canvased the area, a pile of trash caught his eye. In the corner of the rooftop was a small pile of ration packets. A sense of familiarity washed over him as he looked at the distinct grey packaging. Nothing was supposed to trace back to the camp, so all of their ration foods were made in-house and sealed in wax paper with no logo or seal. Ijin looked left and right as he approached the pile. No one seemed to be on the roof, but he couldn’t let his guard down. 

The roof was clear, so he swung down to the next level and peeked around, checking behind columns and under cars. Shattered glass and plastic rested at the base of the nearest wall, evidence of a security camera having been demolished. Ijin approached slowly, planning to take a closer look at the device. A glimmer from the roof adjacent to his caught his attention. Ijin’s eyes widened and he only had a second to duck as a shot rang out. 

“Haha!” The loud laugh from the shooter put his teeth on edge. The rain of gravel from the bullet striking the parking garage left pieces of rock in his hair and a cloud of dust obscuring his vision. Ijin hunkered down behind a car, waiting with the switchblade he’d stuck in his pocket earlier out and ready. 

“It’s been a while 001,” 004 yelled. Ijin heard a cord shoot out and embed into the garage roof. The soft zipping of 004 as he slid down the line came after. 

004, Kian , he corrected himself, looked the same as he had in the warehouse where they’d rescued 032, but very different from how he had when Ijin was still at camp. The tattoo was new, as were the muscles. When he’d last seen the older boy, Kian was still struggling to fill in his lanky form. Where Ijin had grown lean muscle pretty early and broadened out by maybe seventeen, Kian had always looked boney in comparison. 

Camp must have changed his training regimen, Ijin thought to himself. 

Kian’s boot hit the concrete and he tensed. The sight of 004’s grin as he prepared to hunt him down made was familiar. He'd always been a little too interested in Ijin, wanting to challenge him at every opportunity. 004 hadn’t beat him even once when he’d been at camp. Ijin wasn’t worried about their close combat abilities. But Kian was a loose cannon on the best of days and more vicious than a fox with its leg caught in a trap. 

“Come out, come out,” Kian called playfully, his gun cocked and ready as he looked for Ijin. “001, we missed you back at camp. Things weren’t as fun after you left.” Ijin stayed silent. Kian chuckled. “Even Ragnar refused to take over your spot. That’s why I haven’t moved up a rank.” 

Ijin frowned. Ragnar had been 002 when he’d been at camp. A large boy with similar coloring to Liam, he had the placid demeanor of a giant lion lounging around until provoked. Ijin had thought they’d gotten along well enough. Ragnar had never challenged his orders, but they weren’t close as Ijin had been with Liam.

Why didn’t he take my spot?

A shot rang out and more concrete flew next to his hiding place. 

“Found you,” Kian chuckled. 

Ijin flipped out from behind the car, skirting the shower of bullets that followed him. The hot concrete flew past his ear, knicking the skin and sending a line of warmth trickling down his face. He grunted as he dodged and skidded behind Kian. Ijin had faith in his speed, but Kian moved a millisecond faster and blocked his knife with the barrel of his gun. Without any recourse, Ijin backed off. 

Kian grinned as Ijin took up a defensive stance. He glanced at the gun in his hands and tossed it aside with a grunt. 

“I’ve been dreaming about this for a long time, 001.” He slipped a knife out of his belt and faced Ijin in a similar stance. “How about that rematch, Jin?” He laughed when Ijin tensed. “Yeah, I know about your nickname from all those merc jobs you took. You think I didn’t do a little research before coming to this country?” 

“I didn’t know you were capable of foresight,” Ijin jabbed, smirking. 004 was a cocky little shit on the best of days, and sometimes attacking his ego made him sloppier. Kian scowled and tensed, as expected. 

“Fuck you,” he growled. Ijin’s smiirk faded as Kian lunged toward him, relying on speed rather than a plan. 

They clashed in the middle of the debris. Ijin swung and his opponent blocked, blades exchanged hands with intimate familiarity. When Ijin’s arm got caught, he’d flip the knife to his other hand and the fight would continue. 

Kian’s smirk returned as they continued, near evenly matched. Still, 001 was just a little faster than him, his blows were a tiny bit more forceful, his attacks more targeted. Through it all 001’s face remained impassive. It was frustrating and exhilarating. With no chance of getting the upper hand, Kian tried to rattle 001 instead. 

“So, who’s that girl you were with, huh?” He asked when they broke apart for a moment. 001 stalled. It was only an instant, but it was there. Kian barked out a laugh.

“She’s really someone to you!” Oh, he wanted to savor this. The cool, ice prince of the camp was lost over a girl! “I’ll be sure to think of you when I kill her.” 

Ijin’s thoughts turned to static. An inhuman growl slid past his lips. He couldn’t remember what happened next, just that when he woke up, 004 was on the ground bleeding profusely and Ijin was holding the knife that caused it. He growled again and stalked toward 004. Maybe today he could be ‘Mercenary Jin’ one more time. 

“Y-you think–” Kian coughed, blood squirting out of the gash in his abdomen with each clench– “You think I didn’t come prepared?” He reached behind him, hand grasping for the gun he’d tossed away earlier. Ijin’s eyes widened and he pivoted as bullets zipped past him. 

004 hacked out a cough between trigger squeezes. The pain in his gut was searing. He might be insane, but he still wanted to live through the night. Which meant he had to get off this building. As the clip emptied, he dropped the gun, it was useless without ammo anyway, and replaced it with a flash bang from his belt. 001, like a moth to a flame, emerged as soon as the gunfire ended, and targeted him in a rush. Kian pressed the detonator and threw it, covering his eyes. The roof lit up. Ijin taking the full brunt of the blinding light. The explosion that followed deafened him and Kian.  

Blind and deaf, Ijin halted. Muffled sounds trickled into his ears, but they were superseded by the ringing. On instinct, he dropped to the ground and shuffled behind an outcropping. He knew from earlier it was a wedge that lead into the stairwell of the garage. He stayed hidden. It wasn’t until the ringing began to subside and he could see past the bright spots in his vision, that he realized Kian had vanished. 

Ijin hobbled down the stairs, still waiting for the ringing in his ears to fade. As he made it to the bottom floor, a large, black SW car skidded into view. The team 2 captain threw the vehicle into park while Seokju stumbled out of the passenger seat. 

“What happened?” he yelled. Ijin stumbled in place and his classmate jumped to catch him. His relief at seeing them faded as the back door of the car opened and Liam emerged, his long blond hair bundled up under an SW ball cap. 

“004?” he asked. His eyes betrayed all the worry hidden behind his poker face as he looked Ijin over. He nodded a confirmation and Liam grimaced. “We’ll worry about it later,” he sighed. “You need a medic first.” 

Ijin tilted his head, utterly confused as to why he’d need a doctor. The ringing was faded and, granted, he did have a few scrapes, but it was nothing major. Now that he thought about it, there was a dull pain in his side. Seokju and the team leader stared at him in horror. 

“Ijin,” Seokju hissed. “Do you not feel that?” 

Ijin looked down. There was blood pouring out of a gash in his side where a bullet had grazed his ribs. Oh, Ijin thought as his brain started going fuzzy. How do I explain this to Dayun? He passed out in Seokju’s arms.

Chapter Text

 Seokju didn’t like Ijin’s new friends. They tweaked every instinct that told him to back away and stay far away. He held his ground though. He refused to leave Ijin in the hospital alone with two guys who might be even more dangerous than whoever managed to injure Ijin in the parking garage. 
 He’d gotten a text from his father and from SW team 2 an hour after arriving at school telling him to get Yuna home and get ready to leave with the team. He’d done as instructed, hustling his charge out of the building without explaining anything to their other classmates. He’d even snagged Dayun on the way out. Her frightened, confused face sitting next to Yuna’s resigned one was now imprinted on his memory. He’d have to apologize for scaring her later. Once they'd been deposited at a safe space, he’d been rushed through changing and into a van with six other guards from SW’s security force. Two foreigners were sitting in the back, calm as ice. Seokju flinched when he noticed them. 
 “Who are they?” The older boy looked at him from under a shock of blond hair that draped over pale green eyes. 
 “Not important,” he said. His voice was soft and heavily accented, but the perfect Korean sent shivers down Seokju’s spine. “If you want to get to Ijin before he gets himself killed just sit down and shut up.” 
 The younger boy didn’t look up from whatever he was fiddling with in his lap. Upon closer inspection, Seokju realized it was a gun. The boy had three clips out and was methodically loading bullets into them one at a time. The kid looked worse for wear and barely older than fourteen.
 Too shocked to react, he had to be led to a seat by their team leader. 
 “Seokju is closest to Ijin out of everybody here,” he explained to the new guys. The kid flinched and stopped playing with the clip. He looked up at Seokju with a frown. The leader continued, “If you have any questions ask him.” 
 The blond lazily tilted his head and looked him over with a cocked eyebrow and a critical gaze. His mouth curled into a wry smile. 
 “Nice to meet you, Ijin’s…” he paused, and his smile turned sardonic. “Friend.” 
 Seokju tightened his fists in his lap and frowned but refused to react otherwise. The blond reminded him of Yuna’s first boyfriend who is rotting in hell if there’s any justice in this world. 
 “Why are you friends?” The ashen-haired kid asked. Seokju startled. 
 “Excuse me?” 
 “Why are you friends with 00-” The blond nudged him and the boy hesitated. “With Ijin?” 
Seokju frowned. Why was he friends with Ijin? Cause it was easy. They clicked. Kind of like when you meet someone for the first time in elementary school and just know they’re good. Sure Ijin was better than him at almost everything but Seokju was leagues ahead in other areas. And, mostly, he liked having someone who knew what it was like to be afraid deep in your bones that you or someone you cared about could die. Not even Yuna really understood why he practiced so hard and put in so much effort, but Ijin did. Seokju liked not being alone. 
Not that he’d ever admit any of it. 
“Do I need a reason,” he asked tersely.
The boy shrugged. “Most do.” He went back to fixing the gun. 

When they arrived smoke was pouring out of the top few layers of the garage and Ijin was stumbling out of the entrance. Seokju clamored into the front seat to direct the driver and grab a mask. As soon as the car stopped he was out the door and running to his classmate with the team leader hot on his heels. 
“What happened,” he yelled. Ijin looked dazed, which was never a good sign, but he perked up when the blond man traipsed over to them with an icy poker face and a gun held confidently in both hands. He looked Ijin up and down. 
“004?” he asked. Seokju didn’t know what that meant but Ijin nodded. The man winced. “We’ll worry about it later,” he sighed and looked pointedly down at Ijin’s side. “You need a medic first.” 
Seokju glanced down and gasped at the red spot slowly seeping through Ijin’s school shirt. Ijin just blinked at them with that stupid lost-puppy face usually reserved for gaming with Yeongchan and the rest. He didn’t acknowledge the blood or the way his hands were shaking. Seokju and the team leader stared at him in horror. 
“Ijin,” Seokju hissed. “Do you not feel that?” His friend looked at him, then down at his side. 
A soft ‘oh’ escaped Ijin’s lips as he crumbled, landing in Seokju’s arms like a pile of laundry. The team leader started barking orders and Seokju shook himself awake and hefted Ijin. He ignored the blood that was probably staining his own shirt and heaved him into the van. The car jolted into motion and they braced over Ijin to keep him from shifting too much. 
 As he was about to remove the ruined shirt, the blond shoved him out of the way. 
“Let me,” he said. His voice was all business as he pulled out a knife the size of Seokju’s forearm and slashed through Ijin’s shirt. Once the wound was revealed Seokju felt all the blood drain from his face. 
“Fuck!” The blond pulled the fabric aside and prodded at the gash that spanned downward diagonally across the front of Ijin’s ribs before puncturing the flesh above his hip. The bullet had carved a path through the skin and left a curved burn that leaked blood and clear fluid between red scabs. The biggest issue was the puncture wound that was steadily leaking blood.
“It looks like he turned into it,” the man said. “Aiden!” The boy snapped to attention. 
“Yeah?” He looked terrified. 
“Tilt him.” The kid scrambled around in the shaking vehicle to get into position before he hefted Ijin with barely a grunt. “There’s no exit,” the blond mumbled. “Put him down and get back here.” He looked at Seokju. “You gonna keep being useless or tell them what we’re dealing with?” 
Seokju snarled but didn’t argue. He moved to the front of the van and barked orders to the driver. 
“Tell Team 2 leader we have a gunshot to the abdomen and the bullet still inside. Find the nearest SW hospital and tell them to get a room started.” He glanced back at his friend. The two new guys were packing the wound with anything on hand to help staunch the bleeding. The team two leader’s voice crackled through the speaker. 
“Seokju, how’s Ijin?” 
“We’re taking him in now. He’s been shot but we are maintaining pressure and have alerted the hospital.” 
“Good, we’ll rendezvous at the emergency room. ETA six minutes. Keep him alive so I can kill him myself.” 
“Yes, sir.”
Everything after was a blur of moving cars and white walls as they passed Ijin over to the hospital staff and waited for the surgery light to go off. Seokju couldn’t stop himself from anxiously tapping his foot while they waited for the doctor to inform them of his status. 
“I can’t believe Kian actually shot 001,” Aiden muttered while they sat in plastic chairs on either side of the hallway leading to the surgery room. The blond man, who announced he was Ijin’s cousin, Liam, when they were arguing over who got to be put on his contact information, just shrugged. 
“Luck and insanity go hand in hand, it seems.” 
“005’s gonna be pissed,” he whispered. 
Liam paled. “We tell Maya nothing,” he hissed emphatically. 
Before Seokju could ask who ‘Maya’ was the doctor returned. 
Everyone stood.
 “At ease, everyone,” he said gruffly. “He’s not dead.” 
 Everyone, barring Liam and Aiden, heaved a soft sigh of relief. The doctor coughed into his fist and adjusted his glasses before glancing back down at the chart. 
 “While I would usually have to report a gunshot wound to the police, especially when it involves a minor,” he said while looking meaningly at the team 2 leader perched on the edge of his seat. He started to sweat nervously under the grizzled doctor’s watchful eyes. “I’ve been informed that he’s part of the crew and the powers-that-be want it kept quiet. We’ll keep him here for a few days for observation and then he can go home. Family can visit him now but it’ll be a while before he wakes up.” He stared the team leader down again. “I’ll assume SW is footing the bill?” 
 “Yes, uh, yes, sir,” he stammered and hopped out of his seat. “We’ll be handling all the billing for Ijin’s injuries and recovery. Anything he needs just let us know.” 
 The doctor continued to glare for a few more moments.
 “Billing will let you know,” he finally grunted. “You’ll find them in that direction.” He pointed with his clipboard before wandering back through the double doors muttering something about ‘goddamn child soldiers, what is the country coming to’. Liam smirked at his retreating back. 
 “I’ll go check in on Ijin,” he said. “We’ll also explain everything to his grandfather and sister. You’re all free to go.” He started off, Aiden leaping up to follow him. 
 “Wait,” Seokju lept to his feet. “We should be the ones to explain things.” He glared at Liam. “I’m still not sure who you even are.” 
 Liam stilled and stared at Seokju with an indifferent expression. His lank, sweat-matted blond hair spilled over his cheeks as he smirked again. 
 “You’re a good friend to him, little Kitten,” he said slowly. “But we’re family. We’ll take it from here.” 
 He vanished through the doors with Aiden hot on his heels. Seokju bristled just like a cat and fumed while the team leader tried to maneuver him back to the cars. 

Ijin opened his eyes and blinked at the ceiling. A new ceiling. He closed his eyes and focused on what he could feel. Pain arced up his side before turning dull, but he ignored it and turned his senses outward toward his new environment. To anyone watching he’d appear to be still asleep.
The ceiling was stark white with crisp corners that turned into white walls, so different from his neutral-toned room with the crack in the western corner. A machine beeped off to the side, and the sheets were thick with a stiff quality that meant they’d been disinfected recently. A hospital then. Probably one of SW’s based on the fact that he was in a private room just like last time. 
The room smelled of cleaning products, steel, the metallic-burn scent of gunpowder, and tobacco.
“When did you get here, Liam,” he asked. He opened his eyes and tilted his head toward the window. Liam watched him over the bright tip of his cigarette. He removed the slim black tube and blew a stream of smoke out the window. 
“Here in Korea or here in this room?” 
“Both.” Ijin pulled himself into a seated position he hissed a little when the bandages on his abdomen pulled at his skin. “I thought you both were in America.”
“We were.” Liam punched the cigarette out on the side of the building and let the rest fall to the street below before he closed the window. “I caught wind of 004 on the move again. He hasn’t reported back to camp since we got Aiden. Needed to make sure you were still okay.” 
He pulled out a phone and flipped it open to show the call log. Amongst the lines of numbers, one, in particular, had wracked up thirteen answered calls and ten more missed ones. 
“Plus Maya has been bugging me nonstop.” He looked pissed, but Ijin felt the fondness that came from the number of answered calls. 
“She’s good at that,” he said quietly. 
“She’s annoying,” Liam retorted. Ijin wondered if Dayun sometimes felt that way about him. 
“Did you bring 032 with you?” 
“Kid’s getting food downstairs.” Liam scooted a chair closer to the bedside. “Doc says you can’t have any, but you’ve been shot before so do what you feel’s best. We need to make a plan to deal with Kian.” He offered Ijin a manilla folder with several sheets of paper. 
“Before that, I want some information.” Ijin looked at the folder then at Liam whose gaze sharpened. 
“Oh?”
“How are you involved with SW?” The situation with Maya was one thing, but Liam was underground and independent now. That didn’t rule out the camp’s influence on them appearing with team two. Liam waved his hand in the air. 
“Oh, I just told them you and I were real close, like comrades.” He offered the folder again. This time Ijin took it. 
 “What else did you tell them,” he asked, now concerned that Liam had frightened the executives into something. 
 “That they needed someone with my skill set if they wanted to keep their family safe.” He shrugged and rested his elbows on the bed. “The old man seemed confused about how I was able to get his personal cell phone number. Like it was hard.” 
 Ijin sighed. He’d have to apologize to the president, and maybe Seokju’s father who was likely tearing his hair out over the security breach. He flipped the folder open and glanced over the contents. 
 Glossy photos and reports detailed all of Kian’s movements over the past months. He’d been bouncing all over Seoul, never close enough for Ijin to spot him, and nowhere near his home, thank God, but close enough. 
“Any idea of how he found me?” 
 “He stalked you,” Liam said simply. “Just like he did when we were all training together and you beat him at anything. His weird little crush just got worse when you vanished. He was pledging vengeance to anyone who’d listen.” 
 “He was always… Intense,” Ijin agreed. Liam grunted.
 “You can say psychopath,” he said. “The rest of us did.”
 Ijin stayed silent. The rest of the folder contained reports, recorded logs, information about the camp’s movements, and contact information for informants around the world. Liam had gained access to tight-knit mercenary groups and pumped them for information on the movements of the numbers and the run-of-the-mill dogs the camp employed. The fact that SW kept popping up in those reports was concerning. He’d need to put Liam in contact with the major so they could compare notes. 
 “You’ve done well.” He offered Liam a soft smile, surprised when the other boy stiffened and looked away. 
 “You’re not my team lead anymore, you know,” Liam whispered. “I don’t need a pat on the head for something I would have done anyway.” 
 “Good work deserves recognition,” Ijin admonished. “I learned that at SW. I’m not your leader anymore, but I’m still proud of what you’ve accomplished.” 
 “Shut up,” Liam huffed. He turned away from Ijin to look out the window. As he did, Ijin spotted a soft flush high on his cheekbones. “I’m older than you. You know that right?” 
 Ijin chuckled. “I know.” 
 Firm knocks on the door interrupted their conversation. Both boys went on high alert and Liam rested his hand on the gun tucked into his waistband. 
 “I’ll see who it is,” Liam muttered. As he crept toward the door, his footsteps didn’t make a sound. He looked through the peep-hole and when only Aiden’s hunched posture greeted him, he sighed in relief and opened the door.
 “Come on in, Ai,” he said. Aiden hunched further. 
 “Sorry, Liam,” he whimpered. 
 “What?”
A long cargo-pant clad leg ending in a combat boot lashed out and sent Liam flying back into the room. He landed against the bed and collapsed. Aiden cowered as Maya marched into the room with a scowl. 
 “The three of you are all idiots,” she snapped and glared. Ijin sank into the bedsheets and wondered if it was too late to call for help. 

Chapter Text

Lee Jaehyeong was confused. Admittedly that was his normal state, but this was a different kind of confusion. He glanced at Hyeokjin, hoping his best friend had some answers, but the blond behemoth was too busy staring at Ijin’s new seatmate to notice. 

It happened like this, Ijin cut school, then on the same day, Seokju and Yuna grab Dayun and book it like hell’s on their heels. Nothing happens after. Well, a building did blow up somewhere, and there was supposedly a gunfight, but nothing got reported on the news and correlation didn’t equal causation, or so he’d been told. 

Anyway, a week later, Ijin finally comes back to school, a little bruised up but nothing too serious. Only he’s not alone. Three new people come with him. A new Teacher named Liam, who took over their English lessons with brutal efficiency. A new kid that sticks to Dayun like glue and the scariest hot chick he’s ever met. She said her name was Maya.

He very clearly remembers the way she marched into class and stared down Yeongchan before demanding that he find another seat. Jaehyeong was certain the poor guy whimpered a little as he complied. Ijin started to say something about it, but all Maya had to do was glare at him and say, “Shut up, brat,” before he complied and sat down without another word. 

At that moment, Jaehyeong knew this woman would forever and always be off limits. Anyone that made Ijin fold like that was more likely to cut off his balls than she was to accept his flirtations. Hyeokjin hadn’t gotten the same message about Ijin’s scary new girlfriend. He was practically drooling. 

Seokju was tired. Ijin and his friends were adding work to his plate that would retire at least two clones of himself to complete. Creating false identities for three people was a big deal, and he’d had to do them in one week while Liam watched over his shoulder and nitpicked everything he did wrong. He quickly discovered that the dislike he’d felt for the other boy at first glance was returned in equal measure. Now that Liam was his English teacher, the dislike had become seething hatred. 

How the blond had managed to trick the school that he was over twenty-one was beyond him. Maybe it had something to do with how professionally he dressed for work. Until the first day he’d arrived in the classroom, all Seokju had seen him wear was baggy hoodies and ripped jeans. As a teacher, he wore crisp button-downs and pressed slacks, a pair of horn-rimmed glasses, and kept his hair tied back in a low ponytail. 

Yuna had taken one look at him in his teacher get up and declared him ‘incredibly handsome.’ Seokju maintained that he was incredibly annoying. The fact that he actually was a good teacher grated on Seokju’s nerves even more. 

Hoping to distract himself, he glanced around the room. His eyes landed on Ijin’s other “friend,” Maya. She wasn’t even pretending to pay attention. Instead, she lounged back in her chair while flipping a pen across her knuckles at incredible speeds. She was the loose cannon he hadn’t expected. 

The fact that Ijin knew any girls besides his sister and Yuna was unexpected. For a moment, he wondered if they’d had a relationship, but the obvious fearful respect Ijin showed her made him change his mind fast. He resigned himself to remain wary of Maya, very wary. Anyone that scared Ijin sure as hell scared Seokju. 

“Mr. Ko,” Liam called. “Am I boring you?” Seokju gritted his teeth and forced himself to turn and face his smirking arch-nemesis

“No, sir,” he spat. 

“Then would you mind coming to the board to finish the phrase?”  

Yuna chuckled at him as he grumbled and stood up before stomping to the board. He knew he was being bratty, but he’d earned a little bit of brattiness, goddammit. 

The phrase on the board was easy, and Seokju was fluent in English. But being forced to perform because Liam wanted it rubbed his nerves raw. He scrawled the rest of the phrase with chalk and booked it back to his chair. He picked up his pencil and made a show of placing it on his paper as he glared at Liam. Their teacher looked over his work with raised brows nodding at the result. 

“I’m impressed, Mr. Ko,” he said. It sounded nice, but Seokju swore there was an undercurrent of sarcasm. “You’ve gotten it almost perfect.” 

Seokju stilled. Almost? It was correct. He knew it was. When he said as much, Liam looked at him with a patronizing smile. 

“You’ve made a small grammatical error here. This is the genetive, not the nominative case of the word.” His smile grew to Cheshire-like proportions. “Maybe we should be paying more attention, hm?” 

The pencil between Seokju’s fingers snapped in half. 

Park Bong Seon had been sitting next to Dayun for the entire year. She wouldn’t call them friends, but she’d occasionally removed the trash from Dayun’s desk before class started and had helped get rid of the marker stains afterward. She thought of Dayun as a shy and sweet girl, especially now that her brother had cleaned out the trash and his sister had friends again. She was starting to change that assessment. 

See, the seat on the other side of Dayun had been empty even before Kim Heejin had supposedly been sent off to America with her creepy-ass brother. Then the school got a new teacher and two new students on the same day. She saw them in the office while working for the student council. Unfortunately, the hot young teacher would only be teaching third-year English. On a happy note, his just as cute brother was tucked into the first-year class in the formerly unoccupied seat next to Dayun. 

Dayun, who she’d always considered shy, acted like she knew this kid. She was always chatting with him during breaks. He seemed like he enjoyed her attention based on the way he flushed and stuttered when he responded. It made a lot of girls think he would be easy to talk to, but the minute they approached his seat, he glared and clammed up. Dayun reprimanded him once or twice, but the behavior didn’t change. Aiden was only nice to her. Bong Seon figured she’d just stay out of it. 

“Mr. Han?” 

Do Wan turned to see Ms. Kim, the pretty physics teacher, peek up at him shyly with a soft blush across her cheeks. They were alone in the hallway, the perfect chance for a confession. His heart leaped up into his throat. Was it possible? Finally, he preened. His dry streak was at an end! 

Thirty-five years old and single for the past seven years, Han Do Wan was a man of few wants and even fewer expectations when it came to women. Appearance? Just not too ugly. Temperament? He grew up with five older sisters, nothing scared him anymore. He himself wasn’t more than average to look at and also didn’t make a lot of money as a high school literature teacher. He couldn’t afford to be picky.

But Ms. Kim was the equivalent of a beautiful flower that only bloomed atop an unclimbable mountain. Gorgeous and kind, she had the hearts of every man at the school in her hand, from the deliverymen to the principal. She could have any of them if she wanted, and here she was, standing in front of Do Wan! He could cry. 

“Yes, Ms. Kim?” He said, trying really hard not to let the excitement show on his face. She flushed and tucked her long reddish-brown hair behind her ear. He melted a little at the sight. 

“You sit next to Mr. Seabrig in the teachers’ office, right?” she asked. 

And just like that, all of Do Wan’s hopes crumbled and were replaced with a wall of frozen numbness. 

Liam Seabrig, the new English teacher from America. Yeah, they sat next to each other, but the guy gave him the creeps. Do Wan had yet to converse with him and wanted to keep it that way. Still, Ms. Kim had asked. Who was he to deny her, even as his heart tried to sew its bloody chunks back together in his chest. 

“Yes,” he grated out. “We share a desk.” 

“Wonderful!” She clapped her hands together and smiled so brightly that her adorable apple cheeks turned her eyes into crescents. “Could you invite him to the group drinking session for me?” She folded her hands under her chin and looked at him pleadingly. “It’s so hard to get close to him; maybe if we can hang out together, I can finally ask him out.” 

If even Ms. Kim was after that asshole, all the other unmarried female teachers would be as well. Maybe even some of the married ones. Do Wan inhaled deeply and internally apologized to his fellow men.

“Of course,” he agreed with faux cheer. “I’ll be happy to invite him!” 

“Oh, thank you!” She grabbed his hands between hers and squeezed. “Let me know if I can ever do you a favor in return.”

As he watched her practically skip down the hall, he realized now he’d have to talk to this man. 

He stumped off to the teachers' office with a heavy heart, ready to passive-aggressively invite his new nemesis to the teacher gathering. When he opened the door, the sight that greeted him was surreal. 

Liam, his brother, Yu Ijin , Koh Seokju, and the new girl Maya crowded around Liam’s desk, badgering the man in a mixture of English and Korean. Maya and the brother were understandable; after all, they’d all arrived together. Yu Ijin and Koh Seokju were a surprise. The five turned toward him with various expressions ranging from indifference (Liam) to annoyance (Maya) to curiosity (Ijin). Do Wan gulped and shrank back. 

An average person standing next to any of these individuals would feel intimidated, in the face of their combined attractiveness, one was sure to feel like a warty toad. 

It was unfair, he seethed inwardly. How dare those cruel gods bless only a few  individuals with such beauty! To be outclassed by students half his age; it made him want to cry. He couldn’t even truly dislike Ijin and Seokju because they were great students! Unlucky!

He stomped over to the desk and glared at Liam. The young teacher merely arched a brow in return. 

“Yes?” 

Do Wan swallowed his pride and ignored its bitter taste. “The teachers are going drinking this Friday, Mr. Seabrig,” he said stiffly. “Ms. Kim wanted to ensure that you were invited. Please come if you can.” 

Done with his speech, he snatched his pitiful lunch off of his side of the desk and booked it to the green space in the back of the school. He’d like to mourn his love life in peace, thank you!

Everyone left school at different times. Yuna and Seokju left exactly after the bell. Ijin went with Dayun to visit their grandpa and then to SW. Liam had grading to finish and only ended up leaving when dusk was falling. Maya and Aiden killed a few hours by patrolling the area. 

A man in a suit accosted Maya when they entered a park. 

“Excuse me, miss,” he called exuberantly while invading her space. “I’m a recruiter for DODU Industries, would you be willing to audition for our company? You have the makings of an Idol, I can guarantee it!” When Maya glared at him, he shrank back but didn’t give up. “Please, just consider it. Here’s my card.” He shoved it into both of their hands before scooting out of their way. “The next open audition is this Sunday!” he shouted at their retreating backs. 

“Scammers,” Maya hissed and tossed the card into the nearest trash can. 

It happened five more times, with some targeting Aiden as well, before they gave up on the patrol and headed back to SW. Maya cornered Seokju and Ijin as soon as she saw them. 

“Why are there so many scam artists in your country,” she spat. Thoroughly annoyed by the amount of cards she’d had to throw away in the last hour. 

“What?” Ijin blinked at her. 

“I couldn’t go fifteen meters without someone trying to “recruit” me or him.” She jerked a thumb back at Aiden. 

“You got scouted?” Seokju asked. He didn’t look confused, just startled. 

“A lot,” Aiden said softly. He looked worn out. Unlike Maya, he still had his fistful of cards and handed them to Seokju.

The older boy flipped through them, scanning the names of low-level agencies. His eyes bulged at the last one.

“Someone from DODU Industries tried to recruit you,” he shouted. 

“Is that important?” Maya growled. 

“It’s only one of the largest talent agencies in the country!” 

Maya and Aiden looked at him quizzically. 

“I thought they were scammers, too,” Ijin piped up. Seokju glared at him.

“Of course, you would!” He grabbed a fistful of hair and let out a manic laugh. “Of fucking course you would.” 

“What’s the big deal?” Aiden asked. His face scrunched into an adorable frown. It had been a long day, and all he wanted was to see his brother and go to bed. 

Seokju sighed. “I don’t know what hell-hole all of you crawled out of to be as good as you are at fighting,” he began. The elevator dinged behind him. “But I don’t understand how they managed to compile a group of people so unaware of how hot they are.” 

“Don’t lump me in with them,” Liam said as he stepped off the elevator. His tie was pulled loose and his hair was free of its ponytail and artfully tussled. He smirked at them. “I know I’m hot.” 

Seokju decided he was done for the day, maybe for the year. Liam smirked after him while he stalked off down the hallway. Once Seokju was out of sight, he turned back to his friends with a serious expression.

“We need to talk,” he said. “I got some news on 004.”