Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It was hot outside, but Hwang Yeji looked best in black.

So black it was.

She needed the confidence boost for today- she wanted to look mature, put together, ready for anything and everything, not a hint showing of whatever mess of nerves she truly felt inside.

Truth be told, she really did feel anxious about the assignment, in spite of all the training Jihyo and Dahyun had run her ragged doing to prepare. It all felt surface level, lacking the depth of context, because they still hadn’t told her exactly who her target was.

Target.

Yeji smiled, bitterly. Now she really did sound like Yeju.

She pushed the thought of her older sister out of her mind, because it came with the usual swell of emotional baggage that a dead sibling would bring anyone. 

A dead detective, even one a few months post-mortem, on the other hand- apparently, that’s what was bringing Hwang Yeji to the Bureau at sunrise, after only a few weeks of training.

She knew next to nothing about her assignment from the Bureau thus far- it was a well-oiled machine, and her cog in it was new, too new and too sharp to be fully trusted, even though she was doing them a favor.

She finished getting ready to leave, with one last look in the mirror, her mind straying to her assignment, or what little of it she knew.

Nayeon. Really, it all started with Nayeon.

Yeji used to run a bar as her main occupation- past tense, because she and Nayeon’s speakeasy got shut down about a month ago. Some assholes set fire to it- not uncommon, a petty crime with no discernable perpetrator, just another part of living in Seoul, or at least, whatever the place that had once been called Seoul had become. Most people just called it the City, since it was the only one left, now.

The rest of the country could have been bombed and starved to hell, but they never quite managed to burn out the heart of Korea itself.

So now it was the City, and everything else was a blur, was a gradient of nothingness and disparate towns, clinging to the City’s resources and whatever else they could cling to, and that might have seemed reductive, but that was truly the way things were, in their world that was really just the two different worlds.

Yeji was from the City. 

She lived there, had lived there her whole life, knew it inside and out, from the gutters to the skyrise skeletons, and she worked there, too, rarely journeying outside the walls of the City, a place were a burnt down bar probably seemed like child’s play compared to the living conditions out there, a place where the only permanent thing seemed to be impermanence, in living and in work.

But Yeji was out of work, a solution to this problem had started with Nayeon, who turned to her one day a few weeks back, fixing her with a hard look that Yeji had only seen once before, when they had had the idea to open the illegal alcohol joint together.

“I can get you a job.”

Yeji had raised an eyebrow at her older friend, unimpressed. “Found enough money for a new bar? Because you know I haven’t-”

“Nothing like that. It’s with the Bureau- Jeongyeon told me they were trying to find people.”

Jeongyeon was Nayeon’s partner, working in Crisis Management at the Bureau, so naturally this instantly piqued Yeji’s curiosity; why would the Bureau be looking for outside recruits for an inside job?

(It might seem odd, an enforcer of the law dating an underground alcohol supplier, but their world was nothing but gray areas, and the ban on alcohol was the least enforced law since jaywalking, created only to drive up prices and line pockets, at the end of the day.)

“Oh?”

“Yeah. They need new faces, because apparently one of their detectives got caught in an operation. Cover blown- it was ugly, I heard.”

“And?” 

Yeji wasn’t the sort of person to go around cleaning up other people’s messes, and there was enough ugliness in her life already.

“ And you’re a new face. You’d be good at it, too, you’ve always known how to work people.”

Work people . Nayeon said it as if people were a job, and honestly, she wasn’t wrong, about that or about Yeji. The brunette was famously good at talking, at seeing what other people wanted, and she could handle her own- all of which made her excellent at running a bar, but detective work?

She frowned. “What’s in it for the Bureau? If they’re blown, they’re blown- no need to stick their hands back in an angry bee’s nest.”

It was easy to think that way. Korea was nothing but a hive, Yeji felt at times, and the City was their queen, and everything and everyone outside of it was an angry buzz, faceless, nameless. They got plenty of types in the bars, and Yeji would never be one to discriminate, but there was a certain gaunt, hardened quality about those that lived outside the walls, those that journeyed in, those that never fit in, not that any of them did.

“They got some information out of the detective before she died. Just a face, and a name. Someone worth looking into.” 

Nayeon hesitated, and Yeji waited, because she knew there was more. 

“It’s revenge,” she said quietly. “They want revenge.”

Revenge?

Yeji considered this. 

Park Jihyo, head of the Bureau’s Investigative Crime department, and surely the leader of this operation, was nice enough when Yeji had met her, but she had this cold side to her, this piercing fire that made her someone you didn’t want to cross. Yeji could imagine her taking a dead detective quite personally.

Revenge.

“Plus,” Nayeon added, almost as an afterthought. “You’ve always wanted to have an assignment, haven’t you?”

Yeji tilted her head. It was true- she had been in training for the Bureau herself, once, in a fit of idealistic naivety, but that had been before Yeju had died, and her life had always had two chapters. Working for the Bureau, her dreams of cleaning up the broken remains of the country- that was all firmly in the part of her life she had left behind.

Or perhaps not, it seemed.

Earlier that morning:

“Do you have to go?”

Yeji turned to meet the famously soft, round eyes of Sana, who, despite being a few years older than she was, was pouting at her as if she was the younger one.

She chuckled, softly, reaching over to run a hand fondly through the wavy brown hair. “You know I do. Don’t rent out my room yet, though, alright?”

Sana faked a scowl at the gesture, though she knew it calmed them both. “I know that we don’t know how long you’ll have to be gone, but- just try and get back soon, alright?”

Yeji nodded softly, picking up her keys and taking a deep breath.

Leaving the apartment would be the first step. Her, Momo, and Sana had lived there for years, throughout schooling and into their professional lives. She really hadn’t called another place home- it was all just the dull gray of the crowded youth housing system before she aged out and moved in with her older friends.

“Yeji?”

She turned to Momo, who had tears in her eyes but, true to her stubborn nature, refused to let them fall.

“Be safe, okay?”

She smiled, though her heart skipped a beat out of nerves. She hadn’t actually let herself process that idea, the small voice in the back of her head, that she might die out in the field. It was common enough, on a first mission, but she knew once she thought of it, she would get scared. And as the Bureau always said- fear was the first killer.

“I will, unnie. I promise.”

They ignored the fact that she could, of course, promise nothing of the sort. It was inconsequential.

And then Yeji was at the Bureau, finally, through the heavy doors and up into the tense, fervent offices.

Jihyo and Dahyun were the ones who briefed her. They were her seniors, of course- though really, everyone in the station were her seniors- but also they had been working on this case for a while, it seemed, tucked away in their own wing of Investigative Crime. Jihyo ran the department with an iron fist, but it was comforting, to have familiar faces.

“So?” she asked once they had sat down, never one to beat around the bush. She adjusted the collar of her black button up shirt, to give her hands something to do. She carefully kept them from shaking with nerves. A briefing- finally, she would know what exactly she was going to be risking her life for.

Dayhun looked to Jihyo, who took out a photo from a slim folder and slid it across the desk to her.

“Do you know this woman?”

She scanned the image. It was slightly blurry, as if taken in a hurry, and the woman was staring directly into the camera, her expression holding only detached, dangerous coldness. It was as if the woman knew exactly who it was looking at her, and was making a quiet promise to make them regret it.

She was also unfortunately gorgeous, with ash blonde hair and a jaw that was unusually defined for a woman, the androgynous ease about her only adding to that sense of casual power.

Yeji swallowed.

Of course, my target has to be my type.

She shoved that particular thought down, hard. She hadn’t let her personal life interfere with work before- rule number one, really, of running an illicit bar- and it certainly wasn’t going to start now.

“No, I don’t know her.”

“Unsurprising, since we didn’t know her ourselves until about a month ago,” Dahyun said wryly, and Yeji quietly tracked that window of time to the murder of the detective.

“Her name is Shin Ryujin,” Jihyo clarified. “And we’ve got it on good word that she’s been running smuggling syndicates between the City and the outer districts for a few years now.”

“Whose word?” Yeji asked, though she already knew the answer. That she didn’t recognize someone in the smuggling business didn’t phase her- Nayeon usually sourced their alcohol herself, letting Yeji run the other side of things. And besides, someone like whoever Shin Ryujin was probably had plenty of people to do her dirty work for her.

“We can’t answer that. We can, however, tell you that whoever took this photo was shot dead less than a minute later. Sniper.”

Yeji swallowed. So, she was dealing not only with a criminal, but one with a team, a trained team, and an efficient, dangerous one at that, all of them probably ready and willing to kill at the drop of a hat.

These weren’t petty criminals, taking out their frustrations on a Bureau detective. 

This was targeted, meant to send a message.

Fine. She could work with that.

“Do we know anything else about her?”

Dahyun snorted. “We know fuck all about her, Yeji. That’s why you’re here. If we want to book her, we need something, anything. There’s no record of her anywhere, and we can’t track what we can’t see. Right now we have a blurry photo and a few lines of encrypted chat telling us she’s the one we need to be worried about. We need in, from the bottom up.”

“From the bottom up,” Yeji repeated, slowly beginning to piece it together. “And you think I’m the best person for the job?”

“That goes without saying,” Jihyo responded, her eyes glinting with something like pride. “You’re the best one we’ve been training for this, and we need a new face- we don’t trust Ryujin not to know everyone in the department, and you’re not even in the system. Plus, you come with Nayeon’s personal recommendation, and by extension Jeongyeon’s, which is something we don’t take lightly, and even before you quit the Bureau’s recruitment program all those years ago, your personal and combat skills were marked as excellent.”

It was true. That she had quit the program, years ago, but that brought up memories of Yeju, so she swallowed that line of thinking back.

It was also true that Yeji probably had the skills for infiltration, having worked in secrets and taking orders her whole life. It was actually one of the reasons she was so nervous- she preferred taking orders to leading the charge, knowing that she was good at it and that it so easily gained the loyalty of important people. Shin Ryujin, whoever she was, would surely be no different.

“How do I get in?” was all Yeji could ask, her heart pounding as she stared back down at the photograph, at those indefinable, impossibly cold eyes.

Jihyo slid the only other paper in the folder towards her. It was a picture of a night club, clearly in the outer districts from the desolate surroundings, understated but with a purple neon sign that read Guess Who .

“This place. Apparently she owns it- one of her many fronts.”

“According to who?”

Jihyo looked displeased at the question, considering that seeking information was what they were hiring her to do.

“One of our sources. You can find an in there, from someone that runs in her circles, if not her herself.”

Yeji raised her eyebrows. “I’m to try and contact her directly?”

Dahyun shrugged. “Honestly, you probably won’t get a chance to. Just ask around, without making it too obvious. If she’s there, and you catch her eye, well, you catch her eye, but focus on what we need: information.”

Yeji swallowed. Information. She could do information, though she prayed never to have those eyes fall on her, especially not with that cold, murderous expression.

She would have to be more than careful. She would have to be airtight, bulletproof.

“And if I find my way in?”

Jihyo pulled a cheap, temporary phone out of her pocket. 

“Then you find your way in. Do what you have to do to get information. Send us updates, frequent ones. Tzuyu will give you the rundown on the chat site we use- it’s all encrypted, and even if someone gets a hold of this, they won’t be able to access it.”

Yeji raised an eyebrow at her. “And what might I have to do?” she asked. “Unnie,” she added quickly, trying to disguise the bluntness of her uncertainty with politeness.

Jihyo saw right through her- she wouldn’t be the head of the station if she hadn’t, Yeji supposed. 

“Whatever you have to do. We’ll take care of it, whatever it is. If you need to bail, bail, but at least try your best first, alright?”

Tzuyu was less optimistic. 

“It’s a hell of a first assignment, Yeji-yah,” she said, after filling Yeji’s head with about a million and one things that were “essential to know about cyber security and encryption”. 

She was the Bureau’s cyberforce, really, their technological presence, and though they had a whole team of that, Tzuyu was the best, and everyone knew it.

She rarely swore, though, so it was a little jarring, to hear even a small curse from her friend. Yeji didn’t make a habit of having friends at the station, but Tzuyu was closer than most since she usually stopped by the bar for an Irish cream coffee after work if she hadn’t been working through the night. 

Anything coffee, that was Tzuyu- even her dark brown eyes mirrored the liquid steaming in a mug beside her. 

“Leave as soon as there’s trouble, alright?”

Yeji quirked an eyebrow playfully. “I’m not much of a burgeoning detective if I can’t even get my hands a little messy, unnie. Besides, they wouldn’t give me anything I can’t handle.”

Tzuyu sighed, taking a sip from her mug in lieu of a response. They both knew there wasn’t much of a response possible- there was no information, nothing to expect upon her going in.

“You better slow down on that stuff while I’m gone,” Yeji said pointedly, though she knew it wouldn’t have much effect. “We can’t have you having a heart attack before I’m back from god knows where.”

It was nice to speak as if coming back were a certainty. When Tzuyu looked up, her eyes held a familiar determination.

“I’ll take care of you from here, Yeji. They won’t find anything about you on the web or in the chats, even if they try digging for it or hacking your phone. I’ve got your back, so just- just be careful, alright?”

The unease behind her stubbornness unnerved Yeji. 

“ Fear is the first killer ,” she quoted back at the young woman, which was such a common motto around the Bureau that they had even made posters of it, grinning when Tzuyu rolled her eyes. 

“I’ll be fine, okay? With you all behind me, I’m sure I’ll be just fine.”

Looking up at the blinding lights of Guess Who , though, Yeji was marginally less sure.

Dahyun had dropped her off miles away, and she had had to walk the rest, enduring a few comments yelled out of car windows about her less than savory black dress, a gift from Tzuyu- the girl had a wardrobe, for someone who was a workaholic night owl, and she insisted a simple outfit wouldn’t do for a club. Yeji couldn’t help wearing it, telling herself her looks- of which she wasn’t too sure about, but Sana and Momo always swore by- were just another tool, another thing to help her get what she needed.

Information, she told herself, heart pounding despite her best efforts. A little information, then I’ll leave.

It unnerved her more than she had thought it would, being outside the walls of the City. She had been enough times, but the outer districts had always been ineffable to her, experienced only from the confines of her car if she and Sana or Momo fancied a long drive enough to pay the gate tax. The outer lands lacked the smog-ridden desperation that lay like a thick blanket over the City, and the harshness of a sunset against the bombed-out remains of towns and ramshackle collections of settlements that cropped up every few miles could be oddly beautiful.

She had never been to Guess Who , though the black brick building looked like something she might have driven past before. The bouncer let her in with a glance down at her chest and a smirk, and she stepped inside breathlessly.

It was dark, hazy with a sheen of some form of leftover smoke or vapor, and the many colors of lights arced and bounced off the ceiling to the beat of the music. A throng of people filled most of the room, the only empty spaces being by the bar, where people moved in and out frequently, sloppily carrying drinks back to the pit.

She could tell immediately that it was a popular spot, and for good reason. It was closer to the City than most of the other clubs she had seen in the aimless spread of land beyond the wall, and though it lacked some of the sophistication of City speakeasies, it’s appeal was clearly one of unbridled sin, from the music reverberating off of the walls to the coked-out eyes of some of the party goers.

Yeji looked around, but didn’t see the telltale blonde hair or the sharp stature of her target-not that she had really expected to, anyways- so she moved to get a drink, not allowing herself to relax quite yet.

The alcohol (a rum and coke, the first thing she could think of) was sharp on her tongue. It was the real stuff, nothing watered down, not dressed up in fruit and soda like the clientele in the City preferred. It cleared her mind, which was troubling, since it usually dulled it.

“You’re new.”

She stiffened at the interruption, turning slowly and deliberately casually towards the speaker.

It was a woman- a young woman, with a face startlingly pretty, wearing a black jumpsuit and a touch of glitter around her eyes. Her eyes were big, and yet sharp as knives, though her grin was languid as she scanned Yeji’s face.

“Am I?” Yeji replied, keeping her voice even. “Does it show, then?”

She kept smiling. She was tall- taller than Yeji, which irked her a little bit, since she definitely was younger. Her stature was slim, with a slight bulge around her waist- a gun, Yeji could tell, even though there had been clear warnings that weapons weren’t allowed in the establishment.

“Impressively, no. But I know everyone- everyone worth knowing, anyways. Where are you from?”

She hadn’t expected to give the memorized backstory so quickly, but it came to her easily, training kicking in.

“Fucking nowhere, honestly. Barely even on the map. I ran a bar, but it got hit by the gangs, so I’ve been on the move since.”

The girl nodded appreciatively. There were almost as many gangs in the outer lands as there were bars- a good cover, especially since it was so close to the truth. Jihyo’s idea.

“So? Job hunting?”

Yeji allowed herself to smirk, hoping she pulled it off in a casual, non-threatening way. “Maybe. I haven’t quite decided yet. My name is Yeji, Hwang Yeji, by the way.”

“Shin Yuna,” the girl responded, stretching out a hand with a little bow almost mockingly, as if amused at the idea of a formal introduction, and Yeji shook it, bowing back, stifling a wince at the way Yuna’s cold nails bit into her skin. “How old are you? Should I be calling you unnie?”

Yeji provided her birth year- her real one, just in case it would be checked, later. The Bureau had decided that since she had no real ties to them, it would be easier to use her own identity than to create one, and if this woman was connected with Shin Ryujin, she might well be Yeji’s in. They had the same last name, though it was a common one, and she did say she knew everyone, after all.

“Unnie it is, then.”

The woman hadn’t mentioned when she was born, but Yeji let it slide, allowing her attention to wander across the room, startling a little in spite of herself when Shin Yuna spoke again.

“Oh, there she is. I was wondering if she would show up tonight.”

Her eyes immediately flew to where Yuna was looking, her heart crashing to stop.

Shin Ryujin.

Shin Ryujin, looking perfectly, terrifyingly in place in a silver top, sleeves buttoned up and fitted black pants, was resting on her elbow on a dark balcony that Yeji cursed herself for missing in her preliminary assessment of the room.

She wasn’t a blonde anymore. Her hair was cut short, appearing midnight black under the club lighting but, Yeji thought, it was really more of a deep blue, mirroring the coldness in her gaze as she surveyed the room, mercifully not noticing them yet.

“Who is she?” she asked, her mouth dry, aware of Yuna gazing at her intently.

“Don’t you know? What do you think of her?” The girl’s voice was even, but Yeji knew her reaction would be studied, so she said the first thing she could think of that wasn’t I think she’s the one I’ve been looking for .

“She’s beautiful.”

Yuna threw back her head with a laugh that drew multiple eyes to them, though thankfully not loud enough to carry all the way up to the balcony over the roar of the music.

“Oh, you’re funny .” 

Yeji didn’t know what to say to that, so she just took another sip of her drink, forcing her eyes away from the shadow-haired woman. It would do her no good to be caught staring. 

“That’s Ryujin, Shin Ryujin. She owns the place, though she’s not exactly the person you’d ask if you were looking to work here, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Yeji chanced a question. “Why not? Is she in charge of other clubs, too?”

Yuna considered her. “A few, among other things. Here, let me introduce you.”

Yeji was about to say something along the lines of that’s not necessary when she felt a presence by her shoulder, her blood running cold at the grin on Yuna’s face.

“Yuna.”

Shin Ryujin’s voice was soft and impossibly low, though Yeji was sure that wasn’t exactly the type of information Jihyo was hoping for. 

She turned quickly, arranging her face into one of surprise- it wasn’t hard. She hadn’t noticed Ryujin move from the balcony, and wondered vaguely how, after all her intensive tests and training, she had managed to fuck up twice so far, if not more.

She bowed, as Yuna did too, though she could tell the younger didn’t have to. It was for her benefit, she knew, shifting the shadow-haired woman’s attention to her.

“Who’s your friend?” 

Ryujin’s eyes were on her, and she felt fear hit her like a cold whip, though she tried to remember the Bureau’s mantra as she gazed back, keeping herself as open and nonthreatening-looking as she could.

Fear is the first killer.

It wasn’t enough to calm her- if anything, her mind fractured slightly as she tried to keep two worlds within her at once.

I’m just here passing through, I might or might not be looking for work, I don’t know you, she thought, desperately keeping her cover story in her head, knowing that one wrong move would cause the steel-eyed men on either side of Ryujin to throw her out, or even Yuna to pull out her gun.

Ryujin’s eyes, however, were impossibly brown and impossible to read. There was none of the piercing cold fury from the photograph, only a detached sort of curiosity as she scanned Yeji head to toe effortlessly, and Yeji suddenly wished she was wearing anything but her black dress, feeling naked under her gaze.

“This is Hwang Yeji, unnie. She’s looking for work, and she’s so funny .”

Yeji wasn’t sure what to make of that introduction, but she didn’t have time to speak for herself before Ryujin responded. 

“Is that right?”

She blinked, realizing the question required a response. “Y-yes,” she managed, cursing the stammer. “In a manner of speaking, that is.”

One of Ryujin’s delicate eyebrows arched at her indefinite answer. “Oh?”

She tilted her head, playing along. “I’ve been told you’re not the one to talk to, either way.”

Ryujin considered her, one corner of her mouth twitching upwards in amusement.

They both knew she was the one to talk to, even if Ryujin didn’t know the extent of it. But the shadow-haired woman only shrugged. “Depends on what you’re looking for.”

You , Yeji almost blurted out, though she held her tongue, taking a sip of her drink in forced casualness, hoping she could hide the way her hands shook.

It was easy, in the confines of the Bureau or behind a bar counter, to train herself to be solid, poised, unfeeling. Here, under the technicolor lights and thrum of bodies and music, with the sharp attention of Shin Ryujin on her, she felt out of her depth, and the thought was frustrating, so she forced herself to speak.

“Is this an interview, then?”

Ryujin grinned. It was surprising, how well it suited her, even if it didn’t quite reach her eyes. 

“No. That’s tomorrow, Hwang.” She spoke Yeji’s surname without honorifics or much regard, turning away from them with a nod to Yuna.

“Hmmm,” Yuna muttered as Ryujin left, and Yeji was able to breathe again, a knot she hadn’t realized had grown in her chest loosening. “That was interesting.”

“I have no idea what any of it meant,” Yeji said honestly, and Yuna laughed shortly into her cup of something clear and bitter-smelling.

“You and I both,” she said, her smile flashing back onto her face disarmingly. “I suppose I’ll see you tomorrow, then. You can meet my wife- she’ll like you.”

Yeji felt her eyes widen, but Yuna was already gone, leaving her drink on the counter, and she was lost in the crowd.

She forced her eyes up, checking the balcony, relieved to find no further sign of Shin Ryujin. Having had quite enough of information for the night, and with her head spinning from the potency of the drink, she made her way outside, contenting herself to walk the way to the motel she would be staying at, even if it was a few miles and half past 1am.

She realized, halfway there, that neither woman had mentioned where they would be meeting, but she filed that thought away. Shin Ryujin, she was sure, had her own ways of contacting people- she would just have to see what they were.

Yeji flung herself down on the cheap motel mattress, hearing it groan beneath her. She let out a sigh that she had been holding in all night, wearily fetching the phone from the bedside table and logging on to the encrypted chat site, pressing the call option.

Jihyo picked up at once.

“Yeji?”

“Jihyo unnie,” she said, her heart aching at the familiar voice- the morning seemed to be years ago, now. 

“Are you certain it’s safe to speak?” Jihyo’s tone was all business, so Yeji forced herself to recover.

“Yes- yes, I wasn’t followed.”

“Good. Report, then.”

Yeji swallowed.

“I went to the club. I met someone named Yuna, Shin Yuna- a friend of hers , I think. I didn’t get her age, or her role, but she said she knew everyone, so she’s probably important.”

She heard the telltale scratchings of Jihyo’s pen on paper, and spoke slower, trying to capture everything.

“I think she liked me, or at least was interested, but I couldn’t tell. She introduced me to Ryujin-”

“Our Ryujin?” Jihyo cut in, her voice sharp. Yeji nodded, though she knew it wouldn’t carry over the phone. 

“Yeah. Unnie, she’s-”

Gorgeous? Terrifying? Confusing?

“-not like her picture. She cut her hair- it’s blue, dark blue, almost black. She pretty much gave me nothing, except that we would meet again tomorrow. I think I’ll be evaluated properly there, whatever that means.”

“And Yuna? Did she give you anything else?”

Yeji tried to keep it brief, concise, the way Jihyo liked it. “She said Ryujin was in charge of other clubs, and other things, though she didn’t clarify. She said she would see me tomorrow too, and that- that I would meet her wife.”

“Wife?” Jihyo’s pen paused, it seemed, the silence loaded between them.

“Yeah. I didn’t get a name.”

It wasn’t common, Yeji knew, for two women to speak openly of each other in that way. Nor was any actual union between them legal in the City, but it was hardly the first law anyone in the outer districts would have broken, and someone like Yuna probably didn’t give much regard to the laws, Yeji thought.

“Alright,” Jihyo said finally. “Get some rest. Good work, but don’t rush it, Yeji.”

Yeji bit her lip. “I won’t,” she said, knowing full well that it wasn’t up to her.

Jihyo hung up, which was a pity, because she had been hoping to speak to Tzuyu. Or Dahyun, or even Nayeon’s Jeongyeon from Special Operations, head of the Crisis Management division. Though she wasn’t quite in crisis, not yet, Yeji could feel herself spinning out of control, and she curled up against the hard mattress, letting the tears fall quietly. 

They surprised her, as they soaked into her pillow as if she had been holding them in all night. She wondered if everyone undercover felt this way, and even after only one night, she was exhausted, which only frustrated her more.

I can do this, she thought fiercely, wiping the tears away in determination. I have to.

Sleep was a long time coming.

Chapter Text

When Yeji met Lia, her first impression was that the cheery blonde was surely in the wrong place.

As part of her had expected, Yuna somehow knocked on her motel door at half past twelve, wearing a more respectable outfit of black pants and a cropped shirt, though her eyes were still as sharp as the night before, her hair glinting in the sun.

“Yeji unnie, this is Lia, my wife.”

Lia was round-faced, an easy contrast to the woman beside her, her bright eyes almost disappearing when she smiled. 

“Yunaaaa,” she said, drawing out the last syllable in a way that made Yeji feel surprised that Yuna didn’t shoot her on the spot for it- her gun was still at her waist, the holster exposed in the morning light, though she tried not to stare- but the black-haired woman just smiled fondly, her expression softening for the first time at the sound of her name from that mouth. 

“You know I always forget what to say when you introduce me like that! So,” Lia said, changing track at the speed of light, turning to survey Yeji with a sunny smile. “You’re the one Ryujin-ah’s taken an interest in?”

Yeji blinked, unsure of how to play it as Yuna stepped past them both into her motel room.

Should she be tight-lipped, like she was in the club? Something about the younger woman’s upbeat attitude made her feel off-kilter, like she was out of her depth, the mention of Ryujin not helping.

“I guess so,” she said, opting to allow some of her residual anxiety to show. Lia read it easily, reaching forward to clasp her shoulders.

“Don’t be nervous! It’s my job to take care of you- literally! I’m a doctor,” she explained brightly, and Yeji filed this information away for later, raising her eyebrows.

“A doctor? Why-”

“It’s always helpful to have Lia around,” Yuna said shortly, reappearing. Yeji hadn’t realized she had been gone, too occupied with the blinding force of Lia’s attention. “You never know when someone will get hurt. Come on- she doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

Lia filled the car with chatter, barely allowing Yeji to think, let alone try and guess where they were going, and she could only make out that they were closer to the City by the way the buildings and ruins grew denser along the sides of the roads. They stopped near an alleyway, a little ways down a side road, snaking between a few dark-windowed buildings, and Lia drew breath.

“Oh, are we picking up Chaeryeong?”

Yuna nodded. “ Sort of. You two stay here- touch her, Yeji, and I’ll cut your hands off.”

Yeji blinked, blindsided by both the suddenness and the casualness of the threat, and a little offended that Yuna clearly thought she wouldn’t put up much of a fight, but Lia just laughed.

“Yuna-yah! I’m not even her type!”

It was true, though Yeji wondered at just how she knew that, as Yuna shut the door with a snap.

Lia’s questions were more transparent and thus harder to dodge than Yuna’s, and her eyes, bright as they were, didn’t leave Yeji for the entire time they were left alone.

“Where were you born, unnie? You look more at home closer to the City, I think.”

“I don’t- well, I don’t actually know where I was born, but I grew up outside the walls.”

“Yuna-yah told me you ran a bar, what was that like?”

“Probably like being a doctor, to be honest.”

Lia threw her head back with a loud burst of laughter. “She’s right, you are funny , Yeji unnie. How is it like being a doctor?”

Yeji tried to think about it, her attention fractured by the sparse movements of people around them, wondering if they were actually safe there. It seemed to be an industrial area, and no one had made a move towards them, but she still cataloged potential escape routes, feeling uncomfortably like a sitting duck.

“People come to me with their problems,” she said casually, shrugging, turning back to the blonde. “Drunk, and rambling. It can be tiring, sometimes. That’s why I’m looking for something new.”

She wasn’t sure if Lia bought it, but that didn’t matter, because Yuna had just opened the door to the building motioning them inside.

“She’s finishing up,” she called. “We can wait inside.”

Yeji wondered if this she was Chaeryeong, following Lia inside.

“Don’t throw up, okay unnie?” Lia said, as easily as if they were still discussing Yeji’s past line of work, and Yeji was about to respond when any words she might have said died in her throat.

They were inside an open room, the walls entirely metal, a thin, dilapidated balcony lining the space, broken in places, making the harsh lighting from the ceiling lights uneven.

All of that was just background, though.

Because there was a man in front of them, slumped unevenly on a metal chair, and his blood was staining the floor crimson, and Yeji wondered for a brief, dizzying moment if she had walked into a movie, or one of her nightmares from staying up too late listening to stories from the Bureau at one of Jeongyeon and Nayeon’s evening parties, but then the woman standing in front of him turned to greet them, and she looked too real for it, like the living embodiment of a nightmare herself.

She was tall, her face sharp, and her eyes sparkled as she grinned, and not in a good way. Her smile was like a slash across her face, mirroring the jagged line carved across the man’s throat. In her hand was a long, black-handled knife, stained almost to the hilt, though not a drop of blood had landed on her outfit, which was all white, standing stark against the dim surroundings. 

The man was making low, guttural sounds, and he jerked weakly like a cockroach hit with a shoe, though Yeji could tell it was futile by the way his movements were slowing, even in the time it took for her to take the scene in.

“Chaeryeong likes knives,” Lia said, as if that explained everything.

Yeji knew they were watching her, but she had no idea what was showing on her face.

She had expected this, but still, it wasn’t exactly something you could prepare for, and all the discussions and preparations with Jihyo and Dahyun drained out of her mind as she watched the blood drain from the man’s neck.

She had seen violence, of course. Everyone had. But this-

Every part of her was screaming, run , and she almost wanted to break, right there, to sprint back to her motel and beg them to pick her up, to bail and go home and watch shitty rom coms on the couch with Momo and Sana and try to forget the scene in front of her.

But she looked back into the woman’s- Chaeryeong’s - eyes, glinting almost as wickedly as the knife in her hand, and knew she would be dead before she made it more than a few steps.

She was certain of two things, then.

1. She would never forget this. Never. Any hopes she had entertained of being able to walk away and banish these memories from her mind after her assignment died right here, along with the man in front of her.

2. If any of them would kill her, it would be Chaeryeong.

Chaeryeong’s grin widened, as if she could read Yeji’s mind from where she stood frozen, feet from the dying man, watching his life bleed slowly out of him, watering the cracks in the floor.

“New face,” she said, and her words were soft yet impossibly sharp, nearly making Yeji’s eardrums bleed. She noticed, unwilling to continue looking at the man any longer, that Chaeryeong wore nail polish- blood red, too red to be actual blood, but the association was immediate and doubtless intentional. “It was mean of you to bring her in here, Yuna.”

Yuna giggled, and Yeji’s eyes flew to her. She seemed to have enjoyed watching Yeji struggle.

“It was such a laugh, though. I hope Chaeryeong hasn’t scared you off, Yeji unnie?”

There was an edge to her words, a taunt, and Yeji realized that her hand had been ever so casually resting on the gun tucked into her waistband, and that even if she had tried to run, the bullet probably would have stopped her before the knife had a chance to.

“Not at all,” she said, flattening her voice, though it was a little higher than usual. She couldn’t stop herself from shaking, but she allowed them to see it, to feed on it, and to know that she was staying out of choice, as well as fear. “I see why you need a doctor now, if anything.”

It was easy to fall back on this, the careful observations, the gentle method of probing that she had practiced. She tried to remember the conversations in the Bureau, the quiet investigative techniques Dahyun had grilled her endlessly on, the way she had practiced them with Sana and Momo late into the night, then she immediately felt sicker, thinking of them again with this scene in front of her.

Yuna laughed, again, and Lia actually slapped Yeji’s back as she giggled, as if flattered.

“He won’t be seeing a doctor,” Chaeryeong said softly, her piercing eyes never leaving Yeji’s face, cutting into her skin. Yeji squared her shoulders in response.

“I’m sure,” she said, though she heard her voice waver as she looked away from the woman with the knife. She couldn’t help it- this Chaeryeong person scared the shit out of her, and even though she knew that was the point, she couldn’t help it.

A gentle sound came from behind her, and she turned, her heart leaping back up into her throat.

A soft, mocking clap, followed by that low voice, those dark brown eyes pinning her to the spot.

“Interesting, Hwang.”

Shin Ryujin was dressed in red, too, her shirt almost matching the blood of the man now limp in the chair, her lips painted as crimson as her outfit. It was the lipstick that made Yeji’s lips part, and she was surprised that Ryujin could manage to be pretty as well as handsome, even under the harsh lighting of the warehouse. She forced herself to speak, painfully aware of Chaeryeong still watching her intently.

“Am I?”

“I think so,” Ryujin said, turning to the others, unfazed. “Lia? What do you think?”

Yeji’s brows furrowed in confusion as the blonde spoke immediately, her cheerfulness slipping for the first time as her voice became pensive, and she seemed older, suddenly, as she considered the brunette.

“Well, she favors her left ankle when she walks, so her right is weak- past injury, I’d bet. No other significant injuries, past or otherwise, as far as I can see. She’s too tense and a little too strong to be just anyone. She’s always on guard, Ryujin-ah- it’s not entirely natural, and despite everything she says, she seems a little too unused to this kind of violence to have grown up outside the walls. She’s from the City, though someone not unused to the outer districts, I think. Or at least, someone trying to get used to it, for some reason.”

Yeji’s mind crashed and burned, slowly, as she spoke, the clear observations and careful, hedging guesses leaving her speechless.

The worst part was, it was all true- almost all of it. She had other past injuries, of course- her index finger had been broken when she was five, a punishment after getting caught trying to steal food from the youth center kitchen with Yeju, though she supposed that wouldn’t show now. But the rest- Lia had her pegged.

Some doctor , she thought bitterly, kicking herself for writing anyone off, for letting her guard down even for a moment. Jihyo would be disappointed, surely.

Ryujin tilted her head at her. “What do you say to that?” she asked softly.

Yeji responded, the words flowing from her quickly. She and Dahyun had discussed in depth what would happen if any part of her story had been questioned or any part of her cover blown, though she hadn’t expected it to be on her second day.

“Well, she’s not wrong.”

Ryujin seemed unsatisfied. “About what?”

“Everything, actually. I sprained my ankle a while ago, and it never healed properly. And- and I didn’t grow up outside the wall, even though that’s what I told Yuna.”

“Why lie?” Ryujin responded evenly, though the danger in her voice was unmistakable, and out of the corner of her eye Yeji thought she saw Chaeryeong shiver with excitement- she still hadn’t sheathed her knife.

She raised her chin defiantly at that, directing her full attention to Ryujin, trying to push the lingering threat of Chaeryeong out of her mind.

I didn’t come this far to be scared away by you. You’re not who I’m here for.

“People here tend to think people from the City are soft.”

“I knew you were soft as soon as you walked in the door,” Ryujin countered, and Yeji swallowed the sting that it gave to her pride. 

“Maybe,” she said. “But not everyone is as observant. Or as interested.”

Ryujin smirked, and Yeji despised how well it suited her, how it made her insides twist with something that wasn’t the hatred or neutral observance that should be there.

“And? Do you think you’re too… guarded?”

Yeji swallowed, feeling a shiver run down her spine at the intensity of the younger woman’s gaze. “Given the current situation, I think I have a right to be.”

This seemed, miraculously, to be enough of an answer, because Ryujin nodded.

“Follow me,” she said suddenly, turning to leave. Yeji moved to follow obediently, but Ryujin paused at the door, turning back to her almost casually, her voice low.

“Lie to us again, Hwang…”

Her dark brown eyes trailed over Yeji’s shoulder, where the dead man still sat.

Yeji got the message.

She wondered if her hands would ever stop shaking.

Ryujin stood with her outside, and Yeji had known better than to try and talk to her, even if every shift in the alleyway made her tense, the vision of the man with his throat slashed open swimming before her eyes. She was almost grateful for the short break, giving her a chance to breathe, and she wondered if that was the point of them standing there, doing nothing, though it was hard for her to think it through with the stench of blood still stinging her nostrils. 

She lost track of time, but sooner than she had anticipated, Yuna and Lia came out to join them.

“Stick with them, do as you’re told,” was all Ryujin gave Yeji, before disappearing back inside. 

Yeji wondered, walking back to the car with her heart still thundering, what more would be asked from her, but no one spoke except Lia, filling the space with seemingly mindless rambling as Yuna drove them back to the motel. It was almost unnerving, how the blonde seemed to take it all in stride, and she wondered vaguely if that was the point, too, resisting the urge to shout that if they were trying to psyche her out, well, fuck, mission accomplished already.

She bit her tongue, tasting blood. 

Play the game, she told herself dizzily, though she felt bile rising in her throat, and fought to keep it down.

“We’ll call for you later,” Yuna said, her tone inflexible as she pulled into the dirt by the motel, and Yeji could do nothing more than nod before all but running inside, stepping in the shower fully clothed, as if it could wash the scent of blood off her skin.

Yeji couldn’t risk a call that night- she knew the motel wasn’t safe, not after Yuna had been inside it. She had learned from Lia’s idle chatter that Yuna handled most things technological- probably their corner of the black market, and everything that entailed- and it made her uneasy, though she felt a little stronger knowing Tzuyu was the best of the best, the most reliable digital expert that the City and Bureau had to offer.

Her phone was heavy in her hand as she looked over the message, the encrypted chat site little more than a chatbox, black and white.

Yuna’s wife is called Lia. She’s a doctor, they say.

Yuna does a lot of the work online, apparently- check for her on the dark web, if that’s a thing you can do.

Met someone named Chaeryeong- she killed someone with a knife. I couldn’t save him.

I think they did it to threaten me. 

Nothing new about Shin Ryujin. She found out I’m from the City, I didn’t want to risk anything by asking more today.

Yeji chewed on her lip before pressing send, then logging back out.

She resigned herself, that night, to never sleeping well again, the man’s tortured expression burned into her mind even when she squeezed her eyes shut in the darkness.

The next week was devoid of any real violence, though she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop.

Mostly, she did odd jobs. It was almost like her first string of gigs after moving in with Sana and Momo, actually. Yuna or Lia would pick her up and take her somewhere- a warehouse, to sort the boxes, or even what seemed like a clinic, though she didn’t actually go inside- she picked up clothes to launder, most of them white coats, collapsed boxes for the dumpster, got coffee. It was terrifyingly mundane, which was surely the point.

Chaeryeong had arrived at the clinic once, covered in bloodstains and a ragged cut of cloth pressed to her shoulder, but at the sight of Yeji sweeping the front walk, she had turned right back around to get back inside her car.

All of them had a steady stream and variety of vehicles- Yeji supposed that transportation was required of a smuggling syndicate. Yuna even had a motorcycle, once, but mostly they seemed to prefer to be driven around, because they often had her drive them places, too, returning with thick duffel bags or briefcases, and she didn’t ask, because she clearly wasn’t supposed to.

Aside from Chaeryeong, she had yet to see any of the other women get their hands dirty, even though she still saw the thick outline of a gun adorning Yuna’s hip. Lia seemed unarmed, so far, but she hardly needed it, as Yuna was by her side almost every time Yeji saw them. 

She saw other people, too. In the background- they came and went, and she never got names, and again duffel bags and briefcases and boxes and even coolers and god knows what else were passed back and forth, and again, she didn’t ask.

There was a clear difference between these people and the others, though. Chaeryeong, Yuna, and Lia were the only ones that seemed to be allowed to speak of and to Ryujin informally. She watched and listened carefully, though the two wives never spoke on much of consequence with her around. Lia usually filled the silence with everyday things, what she was craving for dinner, what funny thing Yuna said last night, fuck, even what their fucking favorite colors were.

It was odd, collecting these human parts of them in her mind. Yeji didn’t know what she expected- faceless, gruff criminals, mostly, a bunch of goons with muscles and tattoos- but it was certainly not this. Though Ryujin seemed to command many people, the girls were clearly the only ones in her inner circle, a strange sort of unspoken family. 

Ryujin.

It was odd, how much Ryujin consumed her mind, in both her sleeping and waking hours.

Yeji told herself this was normal, that it was even a good thing, to have those dark eyes and that blank expression on her mind so often, to be memorizing as much of and about Ryujin as possible. She was her target, after all, and she was here for information , something she would only get by paying attention. 

The Bureau wanted revenge, and to get it, they needed information, and since there was such precious little information about the leader, anything Yeji could uncover, no matter how small, went on record, and she knew it. She kept up the chat reports, even sneaking a call in when she could, once she had determined to the best of her abilities that there hadn’t been any hidden cameras or recording devices or anything in her motel room, under Tzuyu’s guidance.

She hadn’t seen Ryujin since the night with the dying man, and it was as much of a relief as it was unnerving. She wasn’t sure what came next, but she fell back on following orders, as always.

She didn’t really know why Ryujin kept her around. Surely, she had proven to be untrustworthy, so she wasn’t sure why she was being tossed various car keys, or being told to bring coffee for Lia after the latter finished her work in her clinic, usually looking exhausted but never losing her cheerful smile. It was strange, how the coffee runs reminded her less and less of Tzuyu each time, until all she could think about was that Lia would probably be the easiest person to ask about Ryuin.

She asked the blonde about it as they drove, after another week had passed, figuring that even though there was clearly more the Lia than met the eye, she was less tight-lipped than Yuna and less batshit crazy than Chaeryeong.

“Why am I here?”

Lia blinked at her in surprise, her smile never dropping. “You’re driving me to the dropoff point, of course! God, you’re so silly sometimes, Yeji unnie.”

Yeji resisted the swell of unwarranted venom this caused- she felt like she hadn’t been taken seriously ever since the warehouse, and as she was pretty sure she was older than all of them, on top of everything else, it had been taking its toll. 

“No,” she growled, exhaling in frustration. “I mean, why does Ryujin trust me? Why is she letting me be- be one of you?”

Lia cackled, delighted, and Yeji realized, too late, that she had risen to her bait by getting angry. 

“She doesn’t trust you, and you’re certainly not one of us, unnie. Yet,” the blonde added pensively.

“So there’s a chance?”

Lia only smiled at her, her eyes promising nothing. Yeji sighed.

“Sorry,” she muttered, loosening her grip on the steering wheel. “It’s just been driving me a little crazy, lately. I don’t really know what I’m doing.”

It felt good to admit it to someone, even if it was a play. A play, a lie, like everything else, she reminded herself firmly.

Lia remained uncharacteristically quiet until they reached their destination- a warehouse.

“Come in with me, this time.” 

Yeji obeyed, hearing a shade of Ryujin in her voice, knowing it would get back to the shadow-haired woman if she followed or not.

She couldn’t help holding her breath as they walked in, but it wasn’t as bad as Chaeryeong’s warehouse. It was nearly empty, just a few men and a crate.

Lia greeted them with a sunny grin back on her face. “Oppa! So punctual, as always.”

“A little late, as always, Ryujin,” one of them answered coldly. One look at his polished boots and designer watch told Yeji he was from the City, and his flat tone did nothing to hide the fact that his shoulders were shaking almost imperceptibly under his suit.

She expected Lia to correct him about her name, but she only bent down and flung open the case, examining the contents.

Drugs. She had expected it, because what else could all of those duffel bags and cases have carried, but still. Pill bottles, vials and plastic packets of various liquids, brown packages that rustled with the opening of the case.

Yeji swallowed, knowing she would never be able to recognize them all, but Lia scanned them expertly.

“Where’s the morphine?”

The men tensed, almost imperceptibly. 

“There was an issue with that,” the same one said shortly, clearly the leader- or the closest thing to it. He didn’t have Ryujin’s quiet aura of power and surety, nor her exacting way of speaking. “We’re looking into it.”

“Look faster,” Lia said simply, slamming the lid shut, causing Yeji to jump slightly. She stepped forward to help her lift it, and they exited the warehouse without more conversation.

“Aren’t we paying?” She asked quietly as soon as they were outside.

“Yuna handles that,” Lia responded, as if she had been expecting the question. “I’m just here to make sure we have what we need. Ryujin’s not going to be happy about the morphine, we’re always on backorder for it- too many people getting hurt out here, I suppose.”

The implication surprised Yeji. “It’s not only recreational?”

Lia shot her a dark look- something she hadn’t thought the younger girl was capable of, but she found herself corrected, again. 

“Of course, you would think that. People would get it for recreational uses whether we were in control of it or not. This way, Ryujinnie can make sure it gets to the people who need it, too.”

Yeji had no idea what to say to that, feeling wrong-footed and incurably from the City, so she shut her mouth, her mind spinning, even more so at the thought of anyone calling the Shin Ryujin ‘Ryujinnie’.

Also, philanthropic wasn’t a word that she would have associated with them. 

She cut herself off from that train of thought abruptly. They were profitting off of this, clearly, probably, and anyway, if there were people who medically needed these drugs, getting them from criminals was still illegal, and the majority of the pills and bottles now rattling in the backseat were probably being funneled directly into Ryujin’s clubs and other operations anyways.

This was… bad. They were bad.

But she remembered the faces of the brutalized or sick children in the youth centers, and the way she had shaken with tears, buried in Yeju’s arms as their screams broke into her sleep from the time she had to clean the medical wing for a whole month as punishment. She had always been good at following rules, following orders, after that one. And she often wished she could have given them something, anything, for the pain.

That night, her message to Jihyo was short, and she mentally prepared herself for the dressing down she would receive on her return about not giving detailed updates.

It felt strange, to think of going back, even after only a few weeks. Back to sleeping soundly, comforted by the sound of Sana’s snores and Momo’s midnight bathroom runs, not waiting tensely for exhaustion to claim her, afraid of the shadows that hung outside. Back to drinks with Tzuyu, to training with Dahyun or Jihyo if she got another assignment, if she did well, if she wanted it the way she had wanted this one.

She snorted, in spite of herself.

Would she still have wanted it, if she knew what had been waiting for her? Truly knew it? The disquiet, the blood, the constant feeling of living on the edge of a knife, the mysterious trafficking of things too dark or dangerous to see the light of day?

Dark brown eyes, a rough, mocking voice: “Hwang”-

The answer came after she had surrendered to her own fatigue, tainted by fitful dreams and whispered in the last vestiges of consciousness.

Yes.

Chapter Text

“No, listen- actually fucking listen, or I swear to god-”

Shin Yuna was a loud drunk, they all knew that. It took less than one might have thought to get her there, and thank god Lia usually had a high enough tolerance to manage her, Ryujin considered mildly, watching Yuna argue passionately with her wife about one thing or another.

She took a sip of her drink- something amber and bitter, she couldn’t remember what, but it did its job well.

“-and you- you aren’t even listening to me, are you?”

Ryujin looked up to find her youngest member glaring at her, seemingly having looked to her for support. Beside her, a vaguely amused, tipsy-looking Lia slid a glass of water Yuna’s way quietly.

It was moments like this when Ryujin marveled, internally, at how well they worked together. Lia’s steady support, Yuna’s infectious passion and ego, both of their killer instincts feeding off of one another. Usually she didn’t like to third wheel, but Chaeryeong was out alone again...

“She’s worried about Chaeryeong-ah,” Lia said correctly, answering Yuna’s unreplied question, and Ryujin threw her an arch look. 

Yuna pouted, exaggeratedly, so they all knew it wasn’t real.

“Really? I was hoping to tease you about being lost in thought about a certain someone , Ryujinnie-”

“You sure you want to go there?”

Her voice came out a little rough- probably because of the liquor. She had some more.

Yuna just sighed, her smile back into place, any brief argument clearly forgotten.

“You know, when I introduced you to her, I didn’t think it would take this long. Could you just fuck her already, and save us all the trouble?”

Lia giggled at Yuna’s crass wording, if only to dispel the slight tension.

“Trouble?” Ryujin said, keeping her voice as flat and mild as always worked in business- a little intimidating, a little nonchalant. “You both seem to be getting along well with her, though.”

“She’s better than I thought she would be,” Lia acquiesced. “Entertaining, at least- right, Yuna?”

“She’s from the City,” Yuna scoffed, taking a particularly hard sip of her drink, not yet noticing it was water that Lia had switched out her liquor for. "Through and through."

Lia only looked at her, and she sighed.

“I mean, fine, she’s capable, at least, and not half bad for company, but Ryujin-ah, why do you even bother keeping her around?”

“She asked me the same thing the other day,” Lia answered before Ryujin could, her expression suddenly a little more bright, in a way they had all come to treat with trepidation. 

“Did she?”

Perhaps Ryujin hadn’t controlled her own expression as much as she thought, because Lia let out a triumphant cackle.

“Oh, sure. You know, I get what you were thinking-”

“She’s observant, capable, and does as she’s told,” Ryujin said shortly, draining her glass and immediately reaching to refill it. “I wasn’t thinking anything else, no matter what you’re implying, Choi Jisu.”

Lia took the use of her full Korean name in stride- with them, she knew even Shin Ryujin was all bark and no bite. Usually.

“You wanted to figure her out, didn’t you? You could see it too, couldn’t you? She’s hiding something.”

Lia’s eyes seemed a little harder, suddenly, and Yuna looked at her so sycophantically that Ryujin couldn’t help snorting.

“Well, you’ve had a few weeks with her,” she said shortly. “What do you think it is, then?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Yuna replied instead, and Ryujin reminded herself for the thousandth futile time not to drink with the two wives alone again, as they exchanged smug, knowing glances.

“She’s terrified, most of the time.”

“So? What does that have to do with-”

“- and , of course, there’s that little thing of how whenever we bring you up, she stops breathing . Doesn’t she?”

The blue-haired woman was spared the indignity of replying to that particular thought, because Yuna took a self-satisfied sip of her drink, then looked down, her brow furrowed.

“What- Lia-yah!”

Days had passed since her and Lia’s conversation about Ryujin, and Yeji hadn’t dared to bring it up again.

She focused on doing the only thing she could do- whatever work they had for her. 

They let her go on runs with them, now, sometimes. Never alone, of course, but now when she drove either of the two wives around, she would accompany them- with Yuna, it was mostly for cryptic things, hard drives or duffels full of cash or even weapons, on one terrifying occasion that involved a crate of what looked like standard issue, nondescript handguns. 

With Lia, of course, it was usually the drugs- still not morphine, Yeji noticed, as Lia looked more and more displeased each time- or infrequently the coolers that they would give or take. Lia seemed to prefer conducting most of her business through the clinic, and though Yeji still wasn’t allowed inside, she didn’t mind still having to do odd jobs there- there was a rhythmic kind of peace in the simple chores, interspersed with the blood-chilling daily runs.

Sometimes they got food together after the runs- something quick and cheap. That, too, was a reprieve, and it probably shouldn't have been as comforting as it was.

Their buyers or sellers still called them Ryujin , Lia and Yuna both- even Yeji, once, when she accepted a nondescript box from one of them. It seemed to be a collective name for them all, their inner circle, and though Yeji felt a bit of hope at that, that she might be on her way to being a part of it, she couldn’t understand it for the life of her.

She didn’t want to sacrifice her pride in asking the Bureau, during her short chat exchanges with Jihyo or Dahyun. She had mentioned it but received nothing but a brief acknowledgement in return. She would have wondered how the Bureau had gone so long without hearing of the name, but it was pretty clear that Ryujin’s connections were still expanding, were well-guarded and shrouded in shadows.

Pieces of the puzzle were still missing. Yeji hoped she might earn them in time.

Days had passed, but not yet a week, when she found herself shaken out of sleep, earlier than usual.

“Hwang.”

She jolted awake, one hand reaching blindly to her nightstand drawer, where she kept the old baseball bat Nayeon had gotten her after a break-in, back at her old apartment. 

She blinked, taking in the realization that she was not, in fact, at her apartment, and that it and her bat were miles away, then recognizing with a jolt the face looking down at her in quiet amusement.

“Ryujin-ssi,” she said, her voice hoarse with sleep.

“You scare easily,” Ryujin commented, looking around her room with mild interest. Yeji tried to see it through her eyes- cheap furniture, a shitty excuse for a kitchenette, a backpack and some clothes, a half eaten apple on the corner table she had forgotten to throw out. She didn’t ask how the younger woman had gotten in, only swallowed and tried to clear her throat, her mind.

Ryujin’s eyes fell back down to observe her. “Though I supposed I already knew that from Chaeryeong.”

Yeji’s rough snort of amusement surprised them both. “Can you blame me?”

Ryujin considered this, choosing not to answer. Yeji felt strangely naked again under her wandering eyes, though she was wearing her usual sleeping outfit of one of Momo’s old shirts and her own cotton shorts, her hands tightening on her bed covers.

“Could you wait outside while I get changed? I’ll be fast, if you need me.”

Ryujin quirked an eyebrow. “Do I need you?”

Yeji sighed. The shock of the morning had loosened her tongue, worn on her patience, and she was a little tired of walking on eggshells, especially after not seeing the shadow-haired woman for weeks. 

“Please imagine I gave you a really clever, impressive answer. I’m not awake enough yet for verbal sparring.”

Ryujin laughed, and it was surprisingly human. Yeji found it suddenly a little harder to breathe, her chest tightening, though she was sure it was only from the usual waves of fear.

“Remind me to talk to you more often in the morning,” was the leader’s only comment before she left the room, and Yeji’s chest loosened slightly. She took a moment to breathe in and out, slowly, as Dahyun had taught her to do, before pulling on her day clothes self-consciously and meeting Ryujin outside.

Ryujin drove a red truck that day- devoid of any license plate, making Yeji secretly relieved she wouldn’t have to spend the day keeping it memorized in her head. She had tried, for the first few of Yuna and Lia’s vehicles, but as they kept a moving supply of them, she deemed it an unnecessary strain. Being around Ryujin demanded all of her mental resources already, she was finding.

“Did Yuna and Lia get sick of me?” she asked lightly, as if part of her wasn’t afraid that they actually had. They were so unpredictable, and everything moved so fast- she might have been a momentary amusement, cast away as more important things came to light.

The question seemed to entertain Ryujin, though she kept her eyes on the road.

“I heard that you were asking about me,” she said instead, and Yeji thought her hair looked bluer in the sunlight.

That observation, she reminded herself, meant fuck all, as far as the investigation was concerned.

“I didn’t mean to offend you,” she offered, unsure of how to play it, once again. Her tough facade hadn’t worked, and the last time they had spoken, Ryujin had threatened her life so casually that Yeji still woke up in a cold sweat at the thought of it some nights, imagining it was herself splitting open on the edge of Chaeryeong’s knife instead of the man from before, pinned to the spot by cold brown eyes-

“You didn’t,” Ryujin said calmly. “You would know it, if you did.”

“Because you’d kill me?” Yeji said, unable to bite her tongue about it.

Ryujin let out another short bark of laughter. “You really don’t pull your punches in the morning, do you?”

“Do you?”

Ryujin’s eyes wandered to her before snapping back to the road, though they were the only ones on the rough gravel path for a while yet. Most roads far outside the wall were deserted at this hour- only those with nothing to fear from roving gangs or criminals traveled when the sun had barely risen.

“I don’t know why you’re goading me, if you’re so afraid of me,” she commented, as lightly as if she were discussing the weather.

“I don’t mean to be,” Yeji said honestly, balling up her hands to try and keep them from shaking, but not hiding them from view, looking out the window to avoid looking at the woman beside her. She knew Ryujin could see it, but like the warehouse, she wanted Ryujin to know that she was letting her do so, in some small way. “I’m just not sure what you want me to say.”

“You’re so compliant,” Ryujin muttered, almost to herself. “You’ve been following my orders for weeks now, even though the only thing I’ve given you was the shock of a lifetime and a few vague threats. I haven’t even paid you for it. Most people would have gone crawling back to the City by now. You ask us to trust you, and yet you’ve given us no indication of why you seem to trust us.”

“I don’t really trust you all, not yet.” Yeji said after a short pause. 

It was the most Ryujin had spoken to her yet, and she found herself being honest, again, telling herself it was all a part of a play. The mention of money didn’t phase her- Jihyo had set her up well enough for at least a few months, and while at first she had thought it was excessive, perhaps the department head had known there would be some hazing she would have to weather. 

“And I am- I am afraid of you, you’re not wrong about that.” She hesitated, before adding on something a little riskier. “But maybe I’m not like most people. I don’t mind doing anything you ask of me, Ryujin-ssi, and I also… I guess I feel drawn to you, in a way.”

Ryujin braked so harshly that Yeji jolted forwards, her knees hitting the low dashboard.

“What do you mean by that?” she asked, her voice low and sharp, suddenly.

Yeji swallowed, wondering if she had pushed it too far. “I’m not sure. I’m trying to figure it out myself.”

Ryujin started driving again, more steadily, quiet setting in until she broke it.

“Lia would be upset to hear that you don’t trust her.”

Yeji chuckled in spite of herself. It felt good, to let some of the nervousness out. “I know, I feel bad already. She and Yuna aren’t so bad, really.”

“And Chaeryeong?” 

“She makes me want to piss my pants,” Yeji admitted, rewarded again by that short, rough laughter that made something in her flutter. “But I hope she’ll warm to me, too, in time.”

The implication that she would be there for a while was not touched on further by Ryujin, and the blue-haired woman said nothing more, pulling the truck down and side street and up by a warehouse. 

There was no mistaking which one it was.

Yeji felt her heart plummeting, her mouth instantly too dry, and she shoved down the swell of fear as the memory of the dying man swam in front of her eyes.

“They found who was skimming off of our morphine supply,” Ryujin said shortly, throwing her door open as Yeji scrambled to follow her. “Let’s go.”

It was a woman this time, tied to a metal chair and looking already half-dead with fear. Her gender surprised Yeji, though she knew it probably shouldn’t have, considering the company she was in. Shin Ryujin’s crew was a far cry from what she had been expecting; this woman probably made use of the same naivety that people like Yeji inadvertently kept. 

She was joined by the man from the warehouse with Lia, the other day, his boots markedly dirtier, his designer watch still glinting on his wrist. Both were gagged, but kept wisely quiet anyways.

Yuna and Lia were already there, one of Yuna’s hands resting casually again on the outline of her gun tucked into her waistband, the other touching Lia’s waist almost comfortingly. Lia was looking away, slightly, and Yeji wondered how she had missed it last time, that although the blonde had seemed unruffled, although she probably dealt with blood and bodies every day, she had an evident distaste for this cruder kind of violence, and she wondered too if it stemmed at all from being a doctor or if it was just another act, something meant for her to see and drop her guard again.

Chaeryeong was there too, of course.

She wasn’t smiling, initially, though her grin flashed back into place disarmingly as Yeji and Ryujin walked in.

“Ryujin-ah!” she called, her knife in her hands before Yeji had time to blink. It was bigger than the last one- meant for two, Yeji supposed, and the thought almost made her giggle again in a surge of hysteria, though she quelled it. 

Ryujin merely nodded at her, all of her cold, laser-sharp attention focused on the woman in the chair.

“How did we find her?”

Yuna was the one who answered, gesturing down to her phone. “Found a trace of encrypted chats between him, her, and her buyers from the City. We’ve already dealt with them, but we left these two for you.”

Yeji’s breath caught in her throat at the mention of how seemingly easily Yuna had managed to break into encrypted chats- not just any encrypted chats, City ones. 

She didn’t have time to dwell on it, because Ryujin nodded again, and gone was the woman who had laughed in the driver’s seat next to Yeji.

This was all Shin Ryujin, leader of the extensive, mercurial, multi-industry trafficking syndicate between the City and the outer districts, and Yeji prayed against her own will to never be the subject of that ice-cold, detached voice as Ryujin spoke.

“You two tried to fuck with my business.”

The woman groaned a little against her gag, but the man just stared at Ryujin, his eyes hard, and Yeji willed him to stand down, to give up, to not make this any harder than it needed to be. Beside her, she could sense Chaeryeong practically chomping at the bit, feeding off the stench of fear and the promise of blood in the room.

Ryujin sighed, leaning back slightly.

“We’ve got better things to do. Yuna,” she called shortly, and the black-haired woman stepped out from beside Lia as Chaeryeong let out a soft hiss of disappointment.

It was over before Yeji could scream: a sharp movement, a loud bang that made her ears ring, and the woman slumped sideways, blood pouring from the sloppy wound in her forehead.

“Don’t worry, Chaeryeong-ah,” Ryujin said calmly, entirely unfazed by what had just happened; her eyes had never left the man’s defiant, unwavering gaze. “You can have him. I think you both deserve it.” 

Chaeryeong surged forwards in a flash of a moment, but the man twisted suddenly in his bonds at the same time, his fingers scrabbling at the back of his watch, and Yeji’s instincts kicked in without a spare thought.

She moved, throwing herself sideways in front of Ryujin, barely in time as something silver went spinning across the room, letting out a cry as it embedded itself in the underside of her outstretched arm.

Yeji felt her knees buckle with the flash of pain, though she fought to keep upright, to stay in front of the leader, barely even aware of Ryujin’s hands on her, holding her in place, keeping her as a shield or perhaps simply stabilizing her as her arm grew warm with the blood rush and sick heat of a flesh wound.

Yuna’s gun fired a second too late- Chaeryeong’s knife beat her to it.

The man’s hand fell sickeningly to the ground beside him, his watch falling off his wrist cleanly, spilling open to reveal-

“Throwing stars,” Yuna growled harshly, as the man slackened, his face lost in the streams of blood running from the bullet wound that had landed just a moment after the knife blow. “What in the antique, old world fuck . I can’t fucking tell if that’s ironic or not. You alright?” she called back sharply to Yeji, who was still frozen, though swaying slightly, dizzy.

She let out another cry of pain as Ryujin pulled her around, yanking her arm up to inspect it. The gash wasn’t long, but it was deep, the blood starting to drip down onto the floor, the silver star still embedded cruelly in it.

“I’m fine, it’s not bad,” she said roughly through gritted teeth, unable to take her eyes off of Ryujin’s expression. It was inscrutable, and she gasped in pain in spite of herself as Ryujin removed the small, blood-drenched star from her skin, careful not to press too hard against its sharp edges. 

“So fucking annoying. The bastard barely even had any throwing power at that range,” Yuna said, her voice still harsh, and the room rang again as she shot the man once more for good measure, even though he had surely been long gone by then.

“Yuna-yah,” Ryujin said, her voice even, her eyes never leaving Yeji’s arm. “Enough.”

Lia stepped forwards. “Do you want me to-”

“No,” Ryujin said shortly, pulling Yeji forwards by her good arm- the brunette winced anyways, though she trailed after the criminal obediently. “I’ll handle this.”

Ryujin led her back to her truck, and it was only then that she made a move to pull away.

“Ryujin-ssi, I don’t want to bleed on your-”

“Get in, Hwang. That’s an order.”

She got in.

Ryujin drove them a short distance. Yeji still cradled her arm flush to her chest, allowing her blood to stain only her shirt and skin, blinking hard to stop the sun-drenched land stretching in front of them from blurring. She hadn’t lost that much blood- it had barely even cut down to the vein- but she still felt sickly warm and dizzy. Ryujin glanced at this, and her jaw tightened, though she made no comment.

They stopped at Lia’s clinic, and she could barely register the familiar front before Ryujin was pulling her inside, half-dragging her by her one good arm again.

“Sit,” she commanded, and Yeji sat at once, feeling odd and out of place, inside for the first time. 

The clinic’s examination room was somewhat familiar- the Bureau had a medical wing that she knew all too well, after sparring with Dahyun or Mina, their defensive instructor, during the physical portion of her training. She supposed medical things looked similar no matter where you were.

There were assortments of surgical tools, as well as fridges and deep freezers she was pretty sure she didn’t have to guess to know the contents of.

She let out a soft hiss as Ryujin pulled her arm in for the first stitch.

“Should I be worried? Knowing what usually goes on here?” she said, half to cover the pain, half to revert back to what she knew- training, information, everything that definitely did not involve nearly getting herself killed for a gang leader.

Jihyo would probably have approved. It was a sound way to prove some kind of loyalty, after all. Her gruff appreciation was lost in Yeji’s mind, however, at the thought of a combination of Sana, Momo, and Tzuyu’s voice yelling, what the fuck were you thinking-

Ryujin’s voice banished all others from her mind.

“Observant, as always. No, Lia-”

Stitch. Yeji winced. Ryujin kept speaking evenly- perhaps it was meant to be reassuring. Perhaps she just wanted Yeji to shut up and hold still.

“Lia doesn’t only deal in organ trades, you know. She takes care of our runners, too, sometimes. Even us. Chaeryeong mentioned she saw you, so you should know that.”

“I know. I was just-”

Stitch.

“- fuck - sorry, yeah, I was just, you know- I mean, that makes sense, I know she works long hours, so-”

Stitch.

Fuck, how many would it be? She thought Ryujin would do it sloppily, then shove it at her to clean and leave her there, but the blue-haired woman was working as intently as she saw Yuna tap at her phone, sometimes, lost in cyberspace.

“Too many bodies,” Ryujin said, her voice still low and even. “Even the hospitals can’t keep up. We only take the ones without anyone to claim them, but still-”

Yeji couldn’t help a small, high noise of pain as Ryujin adjusted her arm, and though their train of conversation was becoming interesting, the leader seemed to change tactics.

“I know,” she murmured, sounding softer than Yeji had known she was capable of being. “I know, just hold still. It’ll be over in a moment.”

The reassurance was too much, suddenly, and Yeji was startled by the tears that fell down her face onto Ryujin’s hand. She turned away quickly, though not enough to pull her arm out of Ryujin’s grasp, staying still, doing as she had been told.

“Sorry- sorry, I don’t know why-”

“It’s fine,” Ryujin said, clearing her throat, keeping her eyes focused on the wound as she made what seemed to be the last stitch, her hands steady. “It happens.”

“Does it? I can hardly imagine you crying.”

Ryujin didn’t laugh, but the corner of her lips twitched.

“I am human, you know.”

Yeji didn’t say anything to that, allowing Ryujin to finish stitching her up.

I don’t know, she thought quietly. That’s the problem, I think.

Even she couldn’t tell what she meant by that one.

“All done,” Ryujin said, her voice back to its casual, inscrutable lightness as she gave the wound one final wipe with disinfectant that made it sting, throwing the forceps and scissors back down on the metal tray on her side. 

Yeji took her arm back, staring down at the black sutures. It felt raw, tender to even the touch of the air, and she sighed at the reemergence of the thought of what the others would say when they learned she had gotten herself injured. And for the target, out of all things.

Ryujin was watching her, closely.

“What?” Yeji asked quietly, staring back, letting herself look open and vulnerable, though she wondered if she really could have hidden it, disoriented by the whiplash of the blaze of violence from before and now this quiet, dim room, with Ryujin’s brown eyes gazing into hers.

Ryujin just shook her head.

“You’re serious about joining us. Actually joining us , not just the background shit.”

Yeji blinked at her. “I always was,” she said, tilting her head as if this was obvious.

Ryujin shook her head again. “Yeah, but the way you moved- you weren’t even thinking.”

“I know,” Yeji said, because she really hadn’t been thinking, and because it was as much of a surprise to Ryujin as it was to herself. 

“That could have been a bullet.”

“I know.”

“It probably will be a bullet, someday.”

Yeji offered her half of a smile. “If it is, at least now I know I can count on you to stitch me up.”

Something flickered in Ryujin’s face. Yeji didn’t have time to catch it before the shadow-haired woman was standing, suddenly, turning away from her.

“Yuna will take you home,” she said, striding over to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”

Yeji could do nothing but watch as Ryujin left, resigning herself to a day of wondering what she had said or done wrong.

Yuna was talkative on the drive home, and equally so the following night, picking her up late in the evening without preamble. Her chattiness surprised Yeji, but perhaps it shouldn’t have- something had shifted between them, ever so slightly, after the warehouse.

It was mostly nothing of consequence, what she discussed- nothing Jihyo would care about, anyways- but Yeji found herself to be an interested audience, listening to stories of Lia’s closest saves, of customers at Ryujin’s clubs, of all the hacking Yuna was practicing, from infiltrating City servers to getting herself discounts online shopping. 

She felt like she had been punched in the stomach when Yuna brought up Chaeryeong in the midst of a stream of mundanity- the woman still fucking terrified her, sue her.

“Chaeryeong unnie wasn’t always like this, you know,” she said casually, and Yeji wondered if she meant just the criminal work or the darkness that tinged the glint in Chaeryeong’s eyes at the promise of violence. “She got worse when her sister died- a few months ago, actually.”

“Shit,” Yeji said, exhaling in shock. “That must have been-”

“She still acts surprisingly blasé about it, considering she was the one who killed her,” Yuna said, almost conversationally, though her tight grip on the steering wheel gave her away. “Don’t ever bring up Chaeyeon unnie, unless you want to be Chaeryeong’s next toy, by the way.”

Yeji could barely process that, only saying, “I think I’m halfway there already. She really seems to hate me.”

Yuna chuckled. “I don’t blame her.”

At the brunette’s questioning look, she sighed, almost fondly. “Unnie, you really are too pretty, you know that, right? I mean, even I hate you a little for it, and I’m married , not to mention gorgeous myself, so.”

Yeji laughed, out of pure shock. “Me- what?”

Yuna slapped her playfully on the arm. “Don’t give me that. You must see the way Ryujin-ah looks at you. I thought Chaeryeong was going to gouge her own eyes out, that first time with all of us in the warehouse.”

Yeji, again, found herself completely unsure of what to say, and let out a sigh of relief when Yuna pulled over, finally.

They were at a small house, made of both wood and metal in the typical outer district, cobbled-together style, unassuming yet a little better cared for than most of its neighbors clustered along a side road.

“We’re here,” Yuna said, her eyes glinting with mischief as Yeji moved to exit the car, pausing when she saw that the woman beside her hadn’t moved.

“You’re not coming?”

“As funny as that would be, and as fitting as your choice of words are, Ryujinnie will probably have both of our heads if you keep her waiting any longer. Go on, unnie.”

Yeji obeyed, not wanting to keep Shin Ryujin waiting.

Yuna drove away before she made it to the doorstep, and the door swung open before she had time to knock.

Ryujin’s hair was tied back, blue-black flyaways framing her face, and she was wearing casual clothing, sweatpants and a loose shirt, which showed off her collarbone and the muscles of her arms in a way that made Yeji’s mouth go bone dry.

She forced her eyes upwards, knowing by the slight curve of Ryujin’s lips that the younger woman had caught her staring, though she said nothing except “come in”.

Ryujin’s place- because it couldn’t be anything but that- was strangely normal.

It was full of books, multiple tables groaning under the weight of them, and several computers lay scattered around the room. There was no sign of anyone else, and Yeji stood expectantly in the hallway, as Ryujin hadn’t told her to sit down.

The woman in question raised an eyebrow when she saw Yeji was still standing.

“You’re so fucking weird, Hwang,” she said, in a detached sort of amusement, and Yeji realized with a start that it was the first time she had heard her curse. It suited her. Her hand jumped, oddly, to her arm, feeling the sting of pain as she touched the healing stitches, and Ryujin’s eyes flew to it too.

“Does it hurt, still?”

“A little,” Yeji admitted quietly. “It’s fine, though. I’d do it again.”

“You would,” Ryujin mused, her eyes never leaving her. “You really would, wouldn’t you? You’d do anything I’d ask of you.”

“I would,” Yeji said, and she tried to tell herself it was the assignment, that it was Jihyo’s training talking, because the answer wouldn’t have made sense otherwise.

She really could lie to everyone, it seemed, she thought bitterly. 

Even herself.

If Ryujin saw any of that in her face, she didn’t show it, only exhaling tiredly.

“Why? Because you’re ‘drawn to me’? It’s only been a few weeks- what happens when you’re not, anymore?”

“I don’t think you have to worry about that, Ryujin-ssi,” Yeji answered, the honesty acidic and a little self-derogatory on her tongue.

“And why do you speak to me that way? With honorifics? You’re older than me, Yuna says, and yet I haven’t…” Ryujin trailed off, her gaze pining Yeji to the spot.

Yeji shrugged. “You haven’t told me to stop.”

“And you would stop, if I told you to?”

Yeji tried to make her eyes look soft- it was the only thing that had drawn a reaction from the shadow-haired woman, so far, really, though she couldn’t fathom why.

“Ryujin-ssi, I told you, I would do anything you ask of me. That’s what I’m here for, right?”

By framing it as a question, she hoped to place them on the same side, as if they both could acknowledge it, as if that was the real reason why she was standing in Shin Ryujin’s living room as night fell outside, thick and quiet with a summer heat.

“Call me Ryujin, then. Right now- that’s an order,” Ryujin said, her own eyes narrowed.

“Ryujin,” Yeji said, transparently, her breath hitching at the way Ryujin’s eyes darkened. It was terrifying to see, up close, and the name felt strange on her tongue, not dressed up in pretense like it was with Ryujin’s friends and not shrouded in hatred and mystery like it was at the Bureau.

The shadow-haired woman stood up, slowly.

“Tell me to go fuck myself.”

Yeji felt the rest of the air in her lungs abandon her, but she only hesitated for a moment. 

“Go- go fuck yourself,” she repeated dutifully, stammering a bit as Ryujin drew closer, her lips curling into a smirk, and she felt her back hit a wall.

“Tell me I’m pretty,” Ryujin murmured, and the room was falling away, now, the only light seeming to come from those bottomless brown eyes that refused to leave her own.

“You’re beautiful, Ryujin-ssi,” Yeji said softly, a little too honestly, and this was not the plan, none of it, but she couldn’t quite remember what the plan had been anymore.

Ryujin paused, and her lungs were grateful, but something else inside her whispered something she couldn’t understand.

“You’re shaking,” the criminal said quietly, and Yeji noticed it only vaguely.

“I’m sorry,” she said, not quite sure what she was apologizing for.

Ryujin sighed.

“Follow me,” she commanded, and Yeji obeyed at once, trailing after her into a side room, which turned out to be a bedroom.

She took in Ryujin’s bedroom with wide eyes. 

She almost couldn’t imagine the woman sleeping, couldn’t imagine her soft or with her guard down in any way, but of course even Shin Ryujin must have to.

The wallpaper was old, peeling, but there was a desktop in the corner that looked almost brand new, a keyboard and a pair of headphones beside it. The bed was queen sized, fitted with black sheets, and the closet in the corner was shut tight. She could make out a pair of black boots under the bed, and a set of weights next to a punching bag hung in the corner, though the room was darker than the main room of the house, the blinds shut tight.

“Get undressed.”

Her head jerked up, and she scanned the younger woman’s face, sure she had misheard her. 

When Ryujin’s raised eyebrow showed that she had, in fact, said what Yeji thought she had, Yeji forced herself to speak, mentally kicking herself for the stutter in her voice.

“Is this- is this part of the usual process?”

Ryujin’s signature half-smirk. “Not quite.”

“Then why-”

“Hwang.” Ryujin’s tone turned from playful to dangerous quickly enough to give her whiplash. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

Yeji clenched her jaw.

She wasn’t an idiot- she knew where this was going. Had perhaps even thought of it before, unbidden images coming to her during fitful nights, and really, who could blame her, but it was never like this. 

It’s a test, she told herself forcefully, beginning to unbutton her shirt, willing her hands to be steady. It’s a test, she’s not actually going to do anything. It’s all psychological.

She unclipped her bra, then pulled down her jeans and underwear in one go, kicking them aside, and stood naked in front of the shadow-haired woman, squaring her shoulders, her hands clasped behind her back as if she were a poor excuse for a soldier, her eyes never breaking from those dark brown ones.

Ryujin’s gaze traveled unashamedly up and down her body, and she felt her cheeks darken, though she took a steadying breath, standing stock still and allowing herself to be looked at.

It’s all psychological. She wants to feel powerful, in charge. She wants me to think that she owns me, all of me.

Ryujin did own her, really. Even if it was all part of her assignment, right now, she was Ryujin’s to command, and the thought combined with those hungry eyes made her wetten, though she cursed herself for it.

I would do anything you ask of me.

“Kneel on the bed.” 

Ryujin’s voice, lower than before, made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

She held back, just for a moment.

“What if I say no?”

The words, a last hint of her resolve laced within them, came from her against her better judgment, because she did actually want to know. 

What kind of woman was Shin Ryujin?

Yeji knew she was dangerous, and calculating, and her target. But she wondered if she really was human, too, and she told herself it was only her way of exploring Ryujin’s psyche for any potential weak points, and nothing more.

Ryujin’s stare became a little harder, as she had expected it to, but the younger woman’s voice was quite steady when she replied.

“Then we stop. And you leave.”

Yeji swallowed, her mouth still feeling a little too dry.

Leave?

That wasn’t something she could risk.

But on top of that, she couldn’t help admitting that perhaps, a very tiny part of herself was pushing for her to say yes, to not stop, to see where this would go, because god, Shin fucking Ryujin was really almost unearthly beautiful, her perfect jawline and intense eyes highlighted by the shadows of the room, her stature at once imposing and languid.

She also looked utterly terrifying. Yeji wondered if she could actually survive it, if Ryujin touched her, but maybe the woman was still bluffing, and maybe, just maybe, the fear running up and down her spine only made her senses sharper, made her want it more, the rush of adrenaline making her heart thunder in her chest.

And Yeji was only human, too.

So she did as she was told, walking over and lowering herself down, biting her lip as she made contact with Ryujin’s bed.

Ryujin came closer, and fuck , it was hard to think with her looking at her like that, with her thighs trembling as her legs spread over Ryujin’s sheets. She left a small wet spot there, where that place between her thighs met the bedspread, and Ryujin noticed, inhaling sharply, her eyes flashing back up to meet Yeji’s. Yeji hoped her own were neutral, calm, though she knew intuitively that they were anything but.

“You’re still scared,” Ryujin murmured, almost to herself, before reaching out one hand- Yeji tensed- and brushing it across her cheek.

She didn’t respond- she couldn’t, not with that calloused hand on her skin. It was cold, sending waves of goosebumps along her skin, the hair along her arms standing on end.

“I’m going to fuck you,” Ryujin said, her voice stronger, her brown eyes never leaving Yeji’s own, and the bluntness of her words drowned out any other thought in Yeji’s mind. “And you’re going to take it, because you’re mine, Hwang. After this, you’re mine. Understand?”

Yeji could barely breathe, though she knew the question required an answer, a confirmation. 

“Yes,” she managed, and Ryujin nodded once in approval, her hand dipping down to make its way between Yeji’s thighs.

Yeji gasped as two fingers spread her open and slid inside her with barely any time for her to prepare, biting the inside her cheek at the small flare of pain that it caused, and the corners of Ryujin’s lips twitched in satisfaction as she began to move them, slowly, giving Yeji enough time to adjust, yet not enough to really get her bearings.

She couldn’t keep looking into her eyes. It was too much, and Ryujin was inside of her , and it was too much, already-

“Say it,” Ryujin said, her voice rough as she watched Yeji trembling in front of her, the last vestiges of her resolve working overtime to try and steady herself under that touch. “Say you’re mine. Promise it to me.”

“I’m- yours,” Yeji choked out, her words breaking as Ryujins fingers moved deftly inside her, pressing deeper, claiming her, in some twisted way.

There was clearly no romance to it. Ryujin hadn’t warmed her up, hadn’t started slow- she took what she wanted, and god, if that didn’t make something in Yeji’s stomach twist and burn.

Ryujin smirked, and Yeji clenched her jaw, determined at least that the younger woman would not break her, not fully, no matter how much she tried to.

Ryujin could fuck her. Could make her hers. 

But Yeji tried to keep herself together, because she knew Ryujin could feel exactly how much she wanted her- she wouldn’t give her anything else.

She tried to focus on the way the moonlight out of the crack in the curtains cast a gentle beam of light across Ryujin’s thigh, clothed as it was still in black fabric. It was embarrassing, really, to be the only one naked, though she was sure that that was part of the game- if Ryujin really wanted her to feel exposed, to feel the difference between them, the difference in power and everything else, well, she had gotten her wish. 

Ryujin was completely in control. Here, and everywhere else.

The thought shouldn’t have made her have to stifle gasp, feeling a fresh wave of arousal, but it did, as Ryujin’s fingers curled just the slightest bit inside her, though she bit her lip to kill the sound.

Ryujin chuckled, the low noise making Yeji shiver.

“You can make sounds, you know. It’s alright.”

“Is that an order?” she responded, doing her best to keep her voice steady.

Ryujin’s fingers inside her paused, and she almost whimpered, hating herself for nearly begging them to continue, stopping herself from grinding down. The leader tilted her head, apparently considering.

“I suppose not.”

“Good,” she managed, her hips stuttering as Ryujin started up again.

It was hard, though, to keep quiet, to let only the noise of her legs shifting against the sheets and her own wetness against Ryujin’s touch fill the air. Because being touched by Shin Ryujin was like being struck by lightning, again and again, dizzying and terrifying and just a little bit addictive, and Yeji held herself back from letting out another cry as Ryujin moved her thumb against her clit, though even she couldn’t stifle the exhalation of air it pushed from her as her body shook in response. 

Ryujin seemed to enjoy it.

“So sensitive, Hwang,” she murmured, leaning closer, her lips brushing Yeji’s ear, and Yeji nearly moaned at that too, the sound of her name, informally rolled out on Ryujin’s tongue, enough to make her clench down, hard.

She could lie all she wanted, but her body did not, and Ryujin read it easily- which was surely the point of all this. 

The shadow-haired woman smirked, shifting back to regard her closely, working her fingers in to their hilt.

“Oh? Do you like how my voice sounds, saying your name?”

Yeji whimpered softly, unable to hold it back, her grip on Ryujin’s sheets tightening as she did too on Ryujin’s fingers. She still couldn’t meet Ryujin’s gaze, couldn’t lose the last of her self-control.

“Ryujin,” she gasped, unable to stop herself from grinding down on Ryujin’s fingers, which curled obligingly inside her in a way that made her choke, her thumb never ceasing its ministrations on her clit.

“No honorifics, now? And here I thought you were scared of me, Hwang.”

I should be, Yeji thought fiercely, her head spinning. You’re everything I should be afraid of. And yet, you’re everything I’ve been wanting-

It was a dangerous line of thinking, but just then Ryujin’s other hand, the one not currently buried inside her, came up to touch just under her chin, forcing her to meet her eyes.

They were dark, more intense than she had yet seen, even in the warehouse or the first night at Guess Who .

They stared right through her, and Yeji wondered, amidst the haze of pleasure Ryujin was causing her, if Ryujin could see everything, could see what a mess of indecision and confused loyalties she was, could see right down to the bottom of her heart.

Ryujin bent closer, and for one petrified moment Yeji thought she was actually going to kiss her, but she drew up next to Yeji’s ear, so close that she couldn’t escape her, and spoke softly, her voice low and rough.

“Then perhaps I should be less formal, too. What if I called you… Yeji? ”

Yeji’s hips jerked, Ryujin’s fingers and her taunting voice merciless, and she forgot about holding back, letting a stray moan fall from her lips, grinding faster, more desperately down, chasing the release she could almost taste, the air growing thick and heavy with Ryujin’s scent that seemed to suffocate her at such close proximity.

“Ryujin,” she choked out, the world blurring, the feeling gathering inside her almost too much, her voice pleading for something she couldn’t name, except not to stop, don’t stop, please, don’t stop, I’ll do anything, just don’t stop-

“ Yeji, ” Ryujin practically growled in her ear, sensing how close she was, pressing down hard, the thumb flush against her clit merciless. “Come for me, Yeji .”

What could she do but obey?

“ Ryu- ”

The rush was overwhelming, the world narrowing down to nothing but Ryujin as she clenched down hard on Ryujin’s unforgiving fingers, biting her lip hard enough to taste blood to stop herself from screaming, and those dark eyes were the only thing grounding her as she twitched and trembled, gasping for air.

“Good,” Ryujin murmured at last, removing her fingers carefully after Yeji had stopped tightening on them, and the brunette could only whimper at the word, slumping sideways into the sheets. “Sleep, now.”

Yeji couldn’t respond, the aftermath still dizzying her, even though it was Ryujin’s house and Ryujin’s bed and therefore definitely not a place she should be staying.

When Ryujin got up, the weakest, most confused part of her wanted to reach out. Wanted to call for her, wanted to ask her to stay, to pretend they weren’t who they were, even if it was just for one night. Pretend that they had met at Yeji’s bar, that they had stumbled home together, and they would be gone in the morning, anyway, so what did it matter?

Yeji didn’t. 

She let her leave the room, shutting the door behind her, and because Ryujin had told her to sleep, she did.

Chapter Text

Yeji woke up to a knock on the bedroom door.

She blinked, disoriented at the unfamiliar surroundings, the events of the previous night slowly coming back to her in a loose jumble of thought and emotions.

Ryujin came in before she could answer, dressed in a loose shirt and jeans and carrying a plate of haphazardly stacked fried eggs and toast.

“Good, you’re awake,” she said, watching Yeji sit up slowly. “Are you sore at all?”

Yeji shook her head, her cheeks reddening in spite of herself as she realized she was still naked. She pulled the sheets up a little further to hide herself, which made Ryujin smirk, setting her plate down on the bedspread.

“Nothing I haven’t seen already, Hwang. Eat, and meet me outside. Wear anything you’d like from the closet.”

She was gone before Yeji could work up a response, though she almost definitely caught the way the brunette had tensed at the sound of her name, if the smirk broadening on her face as she left was any indication.

Being awake was bad.

Being awake meant thinking, meant remembering, and breakfast could only do so much in the way of making her feel less sick to her stomach as the facts slowly came together.

How the others seemed not to take her seriously. How Yuna had introduced her to Ryujin so quickly, on their very first night at the club. Yuna’s words, too, in the car-

So. She was meant to be Ryujin’s then, even from the beginning.

Yeji didn’t want to keep thinking about it.

She took her phone from where it lay on the floor, sending a quick text on the encrypted chat site while eating quickly.

I’m in.

Had to do some things to get there, but I think she trusts me now. Or is going to treat me like she trusts me, anyways.

They killed someone else- a woman and a man who had been stealing from their morphine supply.

Will let you know more when I get another chance.

Tell Tzuyu to drink less coffee.

She quickly logged out of the site before she received a response, knowing that Jihyo would probably ask what things she had to do, and she was really, really trying not to think of it now, trying not to remember Ryujin’s rough voice in her ear-

The closet was full of Ryujin’s typical style, and it felt strange to pull on clothes that smelled like her, though Yeji tried not to think of that, too. Despite the heat of the day, she pulled on jeans and a hoodie over a loose striped t-shirt, eager to cover as much skin as possible.

Ryujin was waiting for her in the truck. One brow quirked at her outfit, but she said nothing, starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway.

Yeji knew better than to ask where they were going.

She did end up losing the hoodie, because the sun was merciless on the distant stretch of land Ryujin had driven them to, even going off road for a bit before pulling the car off to the side, where Chaeryeong and Yuna stood waiting for them.

“Lia’s on a run,” Ryujin explained shortly, killing the engine, and Yeji followed her out of the car, slowly taking in the surroundings as she wondered when exactly her first thought at the word “run”  had become trafficking and not exercise.

There were what looked like small signs, tacked to the hillside some distance away, though when they drew closer and Yeji focused on them she realized they were in the shape of people, made of some white papery material with black rings emanating from their hearts.

Targets.

She swallowed.

She might have expected this. Of course, if she would actually be joining them, not just the ‘background shit’, in Ryujin’s words, they would have to know she was competent with firearms, but still...

Perhaps it was a good sign. It meant she wasn't relegated to Ryujin's bed; it meant that she would be more active, with them all, surely.

Yuna came forward to meet them, looking taller than usual in heavy black boots, her big eyes sparkling and mischievous. 

“Morning, unnie! You look tired, didn’t you sleep well? I’m actually surprised you can still walk-”

“Yuna,” Ryujin cut in harshly as Yeji flushed, her arms coming up to wrap around herself, as if trying to hide some part of herself from view. “Enough. Just get it ready.”

“I’ve got it,” called Chaeryeong, her voice a little harsher than usual as she turned away over a small black box Yeji hadn’t noticed. Chaeryeong also seemed tenser than usual, her movements jerky, but Yeji’s attention shifted away as Ryujin turned to her.

“Do you know how to shoot?”

Yeji considered lying, but it seemed counterproductive- she was in, or whatever version of ‘in’ this was, and she needed them to think she was capable. Reliable. Trustworthy.

She nodded, once, and Ryujin inclined her head in Chaeryeong’s direction.

Yeji walked over, slowly, avoiding Yuna’s teasing gaze. Chaeryeong handed her a pistol without looking at her, and though Yeji wasn’t a stranger to guns, having had Mina, the Bureau's defense instructor, reinforce her skills with them weeks ago as part of the physical training, she felt her palms get sweaty as she accepted it. 

Because they still made her nervous, after all this time.

She shook it off, not wanting to look weak, pushing Yeju’s face out of her mind.

The gun was blue, nondescript, and heavy in her hands. A training one, not loaded with actual bullets, just ones meant for practice.

Maybe they didn’t trust her quite yet, after all, though Yeji supposed it could just have been out of convenience.

Chaeryeong straightened up with one of her own, and she handled it as easy as one of her knives, straightening up as taught as a bow to aim it at the target, and Yeji fought to keep her face blank.

Sniper. Definitely.

Even with a close-distance range, and a simple practice handgun, she had an effortless, terrifying, exacting sort of grace. It was different from Yuna- the black-haired woman used guns cruelly and effectively, and she seemed to savor only the brutality of a kill, caring little for the precise art of it in favor of just shooting them at all. 

“Like this,” Chaeryeong said, her tone as deadly as the weapon.

Chaeryeong didn’t even look at the target when she fired, her sharp, expressionless eyes falling on Yeji, and whatever they held made her skin crawl, her blood icing over in her veins-

The bullet hit dead center, as Yeji had expected, even if it was a little to the right of the black center dot, and a thrill of fear still ran down her spine as Chaeryeong stepped away, her eyes still piercing into her, as if the brunette was really the dummy she had aimed for.

Shit. She still really, really doesn’t like me.

Yeji didn’t have time to dwell on it, aware of both Yuna and Ryujin watching her.

It was another test, of course. She needed to fall somewhere in the middle of the scale- somewhere that would tell them that she was useful, but not dangerous.

She winced a little as she raised the gun- her body was actually quite sore from the previous night, after all.

Yeji paused.

She could use that.

She was an excellent shot back in the day, she knew, back in the Bureau’s training program, a consistently high scorer, and it had been years, but she was probably still good.

Not as good as Chaeryeong, probably somewhere around Yuna’s level. She hadn’t seen Ryujin shoot, and hoped she never would, but thought the shadow-haired woman was probably skilled as well.

Skilled enough to know if she missed on purpose.

But it didn’t have to be on purpose. Even her best aim could be thrown off, at times, and she let some of the aches from the night before bleed into her muscles, allowing them to tremble a little. Out of the very corner of her eyes, she saw Yuna shoot a malignant, amused look in Ryujin’s direction, but she refocused, still shaking slightly, as she fired.

Left shoulder.

Not bad.

Again.

Center stomach.

Again.

Miss, just barely.

Again, lower.

Right ankle.

“Enough,” Ryujin cut in, and the order made Yeji freeze.

She handed Yuna the gun at once, moving carefully and slowly. Yuna gave her an appreciative nod, and she felt her shoulders relax, because if Yuna approved, Ryujin would too.

Ryujin nodded as well, as Chaeryeong put the guns away.

“Here,” she said shortly, pulling another out of her jacket, holding it out to Yeji.

This one was black, undoubtedly real, and it was cold and heavy in her hands despite the warmth of the day.

“Do I have to?”

The question was out of her mouth before she could stop it, even though Jihyo’s voice in her head scolded her harshly, and she felt her face burn at Chaeryeong’s derisive noise from a few paces away.

“I mean, I will,” she added quickly. “If you ask me to, I will. I just… don’t like having guns on me.”

It was true, and Yeju’s face flashed before her, again, eyes empty and body still, blood leaking from the hole in her chest-

Yeji knew her way around guns, but she didn’t know how well she would handle the nerves of having one weighing heavy in her waistband, on top of everything else.

Ryujin shrugged, tucking it away. It didn’t seem to matter to her particularly much. “Use one of Yuna’s when you go out alone, then.”

She walked back to the truck, though Yuna held Yeji back, pulling her to one side.

“Come drive us, Yeji unnie.”

Yeji glanced at Ryujin, though the leader didn’t turn back, and she followed Yuna instead, slowly.

She gave herself a bit of a shake, mentally, falling back on her training to keep her face blank as she drove away from Ryujin, quelling the pang in her chest.

It’s not like that, she told herself harshly. She just owns you, now. That’s all.

It was easier to text Jihyo again, detailing the events of the day (though not the ones of the night) and the route Yuna had directed her on for the rest of the afternoon, though she felt strangely alone that night.

It meant nothing, she thought furiously, disgusted at her own weakness, and that was probably the truest thing she had told herself or anyone else all day.

She didn’t get a chance to make the most of what would have been a fitful night of sleep anyway, because her phone rang sometime so late at night it was probably morning.

Incoming call.

There was no caller ID, of course, but she picked up anyway, because if the Bureau was willing to call her, to take that risk-

“Yeji?”

It was Dahyun’s voice. Relief, and a strange thread of anxiety spread within her.

“Yeah- yeah, it’s me, I’m alone- Dahyun-ssi, why are you- is everything-”

“Everything’s fine, Yeji-yah,” Dahyun interrupted quickly, sensing her distress. “Everyone’s fine. We just haven’t heard from you in a while, that’s all.”

Yeji frowned.

“I just sent an update, am I not sending them frequently enough? It can be hard to get time away, but if you need me to do better-”

“No- no, those are fine,” Dahyun said, her voice a little gentler than usual. “We haven’t heard from you properly, lately. Sana and Momo have just been knocking at my office door nearly everyday- they’re worried.”

Yeji’s frown deepened, confusion building.

“What do you-”

Dahyun sighed. A muffled noise came from the other end of the phone, as if she had sat down at the end of a presumably long day.

“How are you doing, Yeji-yah? We know what you’ve been up to- you’ve been invaluable, and even if we don’t have enough yet for a reputable case-”

It’s not enough, yet.

Yeji didn’t know how to feel at that. Dahyun was still talking.

“-we’re certainly getting there. You’ve done well. I just…”

Dahyun’s voice dropped, almost conspiratorially, and Yeji leaned in closer to the speaker in spite of herself.

“I know the strains of going undercover. I know how it can weigh on you. I know how it feels, to live two different lives, and Jihyo’s- well, she’s not old, but she’s been away from active assignment for a long time, just pulling the strings- she doesn’t remember it well enough. I do. So I’m going to ask you again, on the behalf of all of us here. How are you doing?”

Yeji opened her mouth, but no sound came out.

She didn’t know how to tell them that she knew exactly what Dahyun had been talking about, knew the feeling of compartmentalization and adjustment into a new life that was rooted in lies and thus perpetually unstable, but she didn’t know how to tell them she had probably gotten in just to be Shin Ryujin’s whore, and she didn’t know how to tell them that it wasn’t as bad as it sounded, that she worried it might not be bad at all, that her hands were still shaking from holding the gun, from the look on Chaeryeong’s face, that Lia and Yuna had been teasing afterwards, but had convinced her to get burgers with them after the runs, and it had been unjustifiable comfort, and-

She didn’t realize she was crying until she heard Dahyun murmur, “Oh, Yeji-yah,” in a voice that was so sympathetic it only made her cry harder.

“I’m fine,” she said harshly, wiping at her face furiously to cover it. “I can handle it. I mean, you’re right, it’s been… intense. And confusing. But I can handle it, alright?”

She wanted to beg Dahyun not to tell the others, especially not Jihyo, but knew it would have looked bad, so she just took a deep breath.

“I’m fine. Thank you for calling, unnie, but I have to go- Ryujin wanted me to-”

“Go,” Dahyun said quickly, and it was a relief that she didn’t seem to notice it was a lie. “Go, but- call us, anytime, okay?”

“Okay. Yeah, okay. Tell the others-”

Her throat closed up. 

Tell them what?

But Dahyun had already hung up, so perhaps it didn’t matter, anyway.

Weeks passed, and though things had changed, they also hadn’t.

Yeji was getting paid. In cash, of course, and the first amount nearly made her jaw drop, and Yuna had laughed at just how wide her eyes went, and for a moment she understood why someone might go into work under Shin Ryujin, because fuck, with this money she could get a new bar in only a few months-

She kept the money in her closet, still only using Jihyo’s funds.

Ryujin and the rest of her gang seemed to trust her just that little bit more- not fully, she knew, never fully, but enough to make a slight difference. She was allowed in the clinic, thankfully not enough to see anything too gory, but enough, and she kept up with them on their runs, and they seemed to work more as a team, planning their days around each other instead of her simply being at their beck and call. She didn’t mind being a glorified chauffeur most of the time- it gave them time to talk, and kept her in her place.

She even picked up Ryujin a few times, now, dropping her from one place to another, though she was so nervous during these moments that she barely paid attention to the road. She knew the shadow-haired woman could tell, from the smirk on her face or the way her voice dropped suggestively at times, making Yeji’s thighs clench together.

So things were different, in that way.

At the same time, Yeji wasn’t quite sure if it was just her own odd sense of nervous impatience, but she almost felt like she hadn’t been making any progress at all with any of the others.

She had thought that maybe Yuna, of all people, who clearly knew about her and Ryujin’s night together judging by her teasing in the car, would have opened up a little more. Maybe it was just in Yuna’s nature to be ineffable, to be chilling one moment and open the next, showing her youth in her smile at times though at others allowing something more sinister to take over her expression. 

Lia was no better- true, she was cheerful as always, but Yeji still felt strangely watched under the medic’s careful eyes. Yeji couldn’t quite keep up with her, but she knew that there was more to her that she had yet to see.

And Chaeryeong- sure, she hadn’t actually expected anything from Chaeryeong, but still, she thought there might be something, the barest hint of a difference. She would welcome even open animosity- she knew being Ryujin’s, whatever that meant, was different than being one of them, and her intuition made her think at times that Chaeryeong found it distasteful, though the black-haired woman said nothing, her gaze as cold and sharp as the knives on her belt. 

And perhaps Chaeryeong was more upfront about it, but the others seemed a little taken aback that she had stuck around, in the weeks that followed.

“I’m surprised you’re still here,” Lia commented lightly one morning, seemingly out of nowhere, as she picked Yeji up from her motel. Yuna didn’t say anything, intent on something on her phone, but the particular intensity of her gaze told Yeji she was listening.

“Where else would I be?” was the only response Yeji could think of, as she slid into the familiar driver’s seat.

She knew what it was that surprised them. She was to be a plaything, after all- surely they thought she would take off, after realizing that, or perhaps Ryujin never let her playthings stick around for too long. Although the fact of it could leave a bitter taste in her mouth, she allowed it to develop, to unfold, to see where it took her.

She thought back to her phone call with Dahyun, flinching at her moment of weakness. Sure, Shin Ryujin and her crew seemed to see right through her tough facade, but really, there was no excuse for having allowed the Bureau a glimpse into just how fragmented she felt, some days.

Because maybe they would decide themselves that she wasn’t fit for it. Dahyun had seemed halfway to suggesting it already, and that wouldn’t do, not at all.

She could go back.

She thought of it at times. When she caught a glimpse of Chaeryeong’s piercing eyes, when things got a little too bloody- though during times such as those, she found herself making eye contact with Lia, and though it unnerved her a little, it was almost a silent reprieve they had, together, when Chaeryeong was in full form or Yuna was kicking the shit out of someone who had dared to try and cross Shin Ryujin- a mutual acknowledgement of weakness between them both, however small, though it would probably come back to bite her later.

Ryujin rarely did it herself, the violent parts, it seemed, but somehow, it was almost worse that way. As if when she finally did, it would be more intense, more gut-wrenched and blood-chilling than anything else yet, because it would be personal .

Yeji especially thought about bailing, when she considered that.

But that would mean going back with empty hands, every moment she had spent paralyzed with fear and indecision, desperately clinging to whichever face she had decided to wear was wasted. In Dahyun’s words, it wasn’t enough, not yet, and she was determined to see it through. She could only hope time would strike her with inspiration as to what exactly would be enough, though- she toyed with the idea of stealing Yuna’s phone, or one of Ryujin’s laptops, but no, they were too smart for that- a hundred failsafes probably already in place, and Chaeryeong’s knife ready to fall if she even tried. Maybe when they trusted her enough, she would be given access to a schedule, or accounts, or, fuck, something .

For now, though: time.

Time allowed her to settle in with them. To almost reassure them, that she wasn’t going anywhere, and to keep Jihyo and Dahyun updated with a steady stream of observations, about the places she drove them too and the tiny tidbits of themselves they revealed in conversations.

Well, that Yuna and Lia revealed in conversations- on the few, terrifying occasions in which she had been driving Chaeryeong somewhere alone, the younger woman hadn’t paid her any regard, a butterfly knife flashing in her hands as she toyed with it seemingly mindlessly, though Yeji felt her perpetually being watched out of the corners of her eyes, as if Chaeryeong were itching for a reason to bury her knife into the side of Yeji’s head, practically radiating hatred and disgust.

Jihyo and Dahyun rarely said anything other than gentle encouragement and reminders not to get ahead of herself. She had really gotten further than they thought, but it still wasn’t enough, even as time passed them all by, slowly. She knew she needed more, something concrete, and damned if she didn’t try. 

But the drop off and pickup points still changed fluidly, impossible to establish a pattern, to catch Shin Ryujin in action. And there was the fact that almost all business was conducted online- poor Tzuyu, she knew, must be working overtime with the pressure to find something concrete in the shadows of the black market. She hadn’t figured out where the other girls besides Ryujin stayed, and assumed it wasn’t for her to know yet, furthering her suspicions that she wasn’t quite trusted, not yet.

And of course, she knew exactly where Ryujin’s house was, by now. 

It was burned into her mind, but it was also the one other detail she omitted from her reports to Jihyo, irrationally worried as she was that they might break down the door and find not only the criminal in there, but herself as well.

Perhaps Ryujin had weathered a particularly difficult day, or perhaps she, too, had been taken aback by Yeji’s tenacity lately as well, because she seemed to be in a particular mood that evening.

“Touch yourself.”

Yeji felt the blood drain from her face, and even though it rushed south, she couldn’t help feeling dizzy at the words. 

“Touch yourself,” Ryujin repeated, almost lazily, her eyes drinking in the scene of Yeji kneeling on the floor in front of her. “I want to watch you.”

The words stirred waves of heat within her, and she felt herself ache in spite of herself. Yeji clenched her jaw, staring back up at the shadow-haired woman.

It was one thing to get fucked. That had been humiliating enough- well, if humiliation could feel so good- and it had been understandable, in a twisted kind of way. The thought of Ryujin watching her, sitting easily on her chair, fully clothed with that carefully unruffled expression, like she was watching a report on tv, as Yeji fucked herself ?

Yeji swallowed, embarrassed to find herself flushing. 

How had things come to this?

She bit her lip as she acquiesced, letting her fingers wander between her thighs, finally, holding back a quiet gasp as she felt herself.

Fuck . 

It was almost even more embarrassing, how wet she was.

She moved clumsily, feeling herself shaking, staring determinedly up into Ryujin’s dark brown eyes. Ryujin didn’t look away, though her gaze deepened slightly as Yeji dipped two fingers inside herself, letting out a barely audible whimper at the feeling, and the tilt of Ryujin’s head made her tremble, made her drop her gaze.

Ryujin’s hand moved, fluidly, to catch her chin gently, lifting it up with just the tips of her fingers. Her touch sent shivers through Yeji’s whole body, and she rocked forwards slightly, chasing the feeling.

“You’re doing well for me, Yeji-yah,” Ryujin murmured, and the low, careless tone of her voice nearly made Yeji whimper again.

The praise was intoxicating, and she hated that Ryujin had figured that out about her. It was frustrating, too, the way her fingers slid around haphazardly, and each movement had to be a concerted thought. 

Though it clearly felt good, it could feel better , and Yeji knew that that thought was exactly what Ryujin wanted, and she so desperately wanted to be stronger, to put on a breathtaking show that would make Ryujin regret even trying to outplay her, but it was hard when everything was slowly fading away except for those intense eyes looking down on her, the curve of those pink lips, that fucking jawline-

She came, shuddering, under Ryujin’s gaze, squeezing her own eyes shut at the last moment and reaching forward to brace herself on the leg of Ryujin’s chair, because she dared not touch the woman watching her, seemingly calmly.

It was a little embarrassing for it to be over so quickly, but every moment spent alone with the younger woman was like foreplay, and the weight of her gaze alone had been deadly. Yeji withdrew from herself gingerly, wincing a little, and made to sit up, her knees aching even as a flat sort of satisfaction and relief spread within her, but Ryujin’s hand kept her down.

She looked up, puzzled, watching Ryujin’s lips curl into a smirk.

“Again.”

“Again?” she echoed, still a little hazy from the orgasm, blinking in confusion.

“Another. That’s an order, Hwang.”

The word, paired with the sound of her name, made her shiver again, and she couldn’t refuse, not when Ryujin asked it of her, fear pushing a fresh wave of arousal to slowly work its way through her.

She was still aching, a bit, having barely recovered, but perhaps that was the point, as she complied, gasping a little at how swollen and burning she was to the touch.

Her fingers hurt a little more this time, everything sensitive and sensory. She found herself wishing for calloused hands, running their way down her skin, playing with her chest until she whined and begged-

If it had been hard to keep steady the first time, this was torture- she was overstimulated and yet, frustratingly, her own touch was so screamingly not enough that she felt the sting of frustrated tears, and she looked away again, trying to recover herself.

“No.” Ryujin’s voice was harsh, though still pitched low in a way that made her ache. “Keep your eyes on me.”

“Ryujin-ssi,” she whispered, even as she did as she was told, quickening her rhythm unconsciously,  unable to keep the note of pleading out of her voice.

When did I get so bad at controlling myself, she chastised herself vaguely, knowing there was a time when the precision of her carefully regulated expressions was one of her most valuable assets, keeping an unflappable guard up in front of even the most dangerous or belligerent customers.

Ryujin let out a soft exhale, the warmth of her breath brushing Yeji’s face, making her realize how close they were. The leader wasn’t idly sitting back in her chair anymore, she was leaning forwards, her elbows resting on her knees as she reached out a hand, slowly.

Her fingers brushed Yeji’s lips, and they parted almost instantly, allowing Ryujin to slip two of them inside.

Yeji moaned at the feeling, her hand rubbing desperately against herself, and it still wasn’t enough, but it almost was as she licked and sucked on Ryujin’s fingers, hard enough to imagine that they were inside her, instead, hard enough to get the message across.

I want you.

“Do you need me, Yeji ?” Ryujin whispered, and she stifled a small cry in response, still clinging to the remaining shreds of her pride, of her self-awareness. She shouldn’t need Ryujin, but fuck, with the blue-haired woman’s fingers all but fucking her mouth, she knew it was only a matter of time before she lost it.

“Disappointing,” Ryujin said quietly, retracting her hand, and Yeji whimpered, the word stinging her like a blow. 

“No, I-” she said haltingly, grinding down in frustration as her fingers stuttered and refused to do what she needed them to, refused to give her the pleasure she so desperately desired. “I don’t- I don’t want to disappoint you, Ryujin-ssi, I-”

“I have all night,” Ryujin said, cutting her off, and the look she gave Yeji was one of both fire and ice. “You will beg for me, in the end. I don’t mind waiting, but the longer I wait, the more I think that perhaps…”

She trails off, and Yeji doesn’t know how she was going to finish that sentence, but she knows she really doesn’t want to find out.

“Please,” she whispers softly, though she knows by Ryujin’s face that it’s not enough. “Please, I- I can’t- by myself, I can’t-”

As if to indicate the extent of it, she shifted against her own fingers again, whimpering, her eyelids fluttering, a low moan of frustration falling from her lips.

“On my thigh, then,” Ryujin cut in, grabbing her by the hair and all but dragging her up. Yeji moaned in appreciation, both for the touch, the delicious bite of Ryujin’s blunt nails on her hair, and for the assistance, because she really couldn’t hold herself up right then, her knees and thighs aching from the position.

She settled herself, trembling, onto Ryujin’s thigh, after the shadow-haired woman had taken a moment to kick off her jeans. She hadn’t really seen Ryujin’s skin before there, her legs, but she didn’t have time to sightsee, moving for the first time on Ryujin’s muscular thigh.

It was warm, and hard underneath her, and she let out another shaky moan.

“Fuck,” she whispered, feeling her own wetness against the younger woman’s skin, and she knew Ryujin could feel it to by the way her breath hitched as Yeji moved, slowly, back and forth against her.

It was arduous, dizzying work, and though she still felt oddly under and yet over stimulated, she could hazily make out the beginnings of a path to a climax of pleasure, thrown into sharper relief by Ryujin’s heavy breathing close to her ear, the warmth of her body flush against hers.

Ryujin’s hands found her hips, and Yeji keened .

“Pretty noises,” Ryujin commented, and Yeji didn’t have to look at her to know she was smirking, but it was hard to feel anything other than the flare of heat between her thighs as Ryujin guided her hips into a rhythm.

“For you,” Yeji managed, a little delirious with the tension, the buildup, the effort of it all, lost in the heat haze sooner than she had anticipated with Ryujin’s fingers digging in just there.

“For me?” Ryujin growled in her ear, and Yeji let out a sharp cry as she gripped her harder, forcing her to move faster, more desperately.

“Yes- for you- Ryujin, please -”

It was enough, suddenly, just one breathless moment of mind-numbing tension before the release, and she collapsed against Ryujin’s body with another cry, trembling from the exertion.

She closed her eyes, coming in to press her face against Ryujin’s neck almost without meaning to, wondering if she’d be granted the small mercy of taking in the leader’s scent before she would inevitably have to leave again-

“Again.”

Ryujin’s voice, hard and cold, in her ear, making her shudder, and she raised herself up at once, staring down at the woman in the chair beneath her, who smirked at her expression.

“I-”

“I said. Do it again.”

She bit her lip at that tone, feeling it send another shiver through her, and god, was she really going to do this?

She had half a mind to get up, if her muscles would let her, but really, under that gaze and that voice and with Ryujin’s skin flush against her, she couldn’t have left if she wanted to. All she could do was exactly as she was told, and it sent a thrill through her, a fresh shock of arousal that made her tremble.

Yeji began to move again, slowly, her hips aching, her own wetness from before the only lubricant, but it wasn’t enough, and she whimpered softly, the beginnings of begging, and a raised eyebrow told her that it still wasn’t enough.

Ryujin wasn’t going to give in, she realized. The shadow-haired woman would keep going until Yeji broke from the effort of it, and in the haze of two orgasms and the building beginnings of another, Yeji couldn’t help herself from letting out a frustrated cry in Ryujin’s ear.

“Please-”

“When I say beg, I mean beg , Hwang.”

She let out a small, broken sound in response, moving jerkily on Ryujin, and every motion was too much and achingly, almost painfully not enough at the same time, and she wanted to be good, didn’t want to disappoint her.

“ Please ,” she whispered, feeling the sting of tears at the corners of her eyes again. “Please, Ryujin, I can’t- I can’t do it on my own, I need you, please, let me be good for you, touch me- ”

Ryujin moved, and for one heart-wrenching moment she thought she was going to be pushed off, thrown back down to the floor, but the younger woman’s arms came up to grasp her roughly, half-carrying and half-dragging her onto the bed.

She only had time to gasp before Ryujin’s fingers were on her, pressing down hard on her clit, and a scream tore its way out of her throat.

“Ryu jin -”

“Touch you?” Ryujin murmured, flush against her ear, working her over in small, tight circles. “Like this, Yeji ?”

“Yes, god, fuck-” she cried, trying pathetically to grip the sheets in an effort to ground herself, but they were already slippery with sweat so she came up instead to hold onto Ryujin, to pull her closer, to dig her nails into her back. 

That might have been dangerous, but Ryujin’s growl of pain and surprise in her ear only made it feel better, and she whimpered, her hips jerking in an attempt to follow the younger woman’s ministrations.

“In- need it in, please, please , Ryu-”

“No,” Ryujin said, her voice hoarse, and she pressed down hard as sparks shot through Yeji’s vision at the feeling of it. “You’ll come for me just like this, Yeji-yah, won’t you? Begging for me, just like this?”

“Y-yes, okay, please, okay,” Yeji gasped, feeling the knot of desperate warmth tightening inside her, the promise of a pinnacle, and all she could do was sit there and let Ryujin tease her at the edge of it, her own wetness making filthy noises in the night. “Please, just for you, b-begging just for you, please- ”

“Just for me?” Ryujin mocked, and Yeji felt a shudder of pain and pleasure as Ryujin bit down on her neck almost casually. “All mine?”

“Fuck-” 

Yeji felt her whole body shake, tensing again, again , and everything went fuzzy like she was going to black out but it felt so, so good, and the scream she would have let out as she clenched on nothing but the thought of Ryujin, of being Ryujin’s, was buried in the leader’s shoulder as she bit down in response, hard.

Ryujin let out a small hiss of pain, but Yeji was too far gone to acknowledge it, twitching weakly against the younger woman’s fingers. They stopped moving, but Ryujin kept her hand there, warm even against the pure heat between Yeji’s thighs.

Yeji opened her mouth, shakily, releasing Ryujin’s shoulder, and noting the tinge of blood that mixed with the strands of saliva there, she let out a quiet cry at the sight of the broken skin.

“Shit, I- fuck, Ryujin, I’m sorry, I-”

“It’s okay,” Ryujin said, but Yeji kept going, whimpering soft apologies and pressing herself closer without realizing it, as if Ryujin’s skin were a comfort to her distress. 

“I’m sorry, I- I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

Ryujin’s hand, the one not currently still pressed against her, came up to push her head roughly back down, fingers catching in her brown hair as Yeji’s surprised gasp was drowned in the hard muscle of Ryujin’s shoulder, the swell of the bruise there flush against her lips.

“Don’t be sorry,” Ryujin said in her ear, her voice still as hoarse and rough as if she had been the one getting fucked. Yeji wondered for a moment, hazily, what Ryujin might sound like when she herself came undone, but the thoughts vanished at Ryujin’s next words. “I liked it.”

“You-”

“Do it harder. I want to hear you scream on it, choke on it, when I fuck you properly.”

Yeji was too spent to do anything but obey, her first moan already shuddering out of her as Ryujins fingers slipped between her folds. 

“ Again ,” Ryujin whispered, for the fourth time, and Yeji whimpered in agreement, though the sound broke when Ryujin pressed into her.

Yeji didn’t know what kind of noise she made, but it made Ryujin murmur “good girl” in her ear, and that was all that mattered, because holy fuck her fingers. They were thick enough to stretch her to the point of pain, but they reached deep, deep enough to make it all into lightning bolts of pleasure.

It became apparent, quickly, what Ryujin meant by fucking her properly, and the brutal pace of her fingers made tears run down Yeji’s face, and she sobbed and cursed and bit into Ryujin’s already bloody shoulder.

“Please, Ryu, more -”

A third finger, and not even the younger woman’s skin could stifle the sound of her cries as Ryujin pumped in and out of her ruthlessly. They filled the room, along with the slick sounds of Ryujin’s ministrations.

“You need more? Fuck, you like it rough?”

“I like it you ,” Yeji cried, and it sounded pitiful and desperate even to her own ears but she was unable to do anything but lay there beneath her, legs spread wide, her knees coming up to give Ryujin even better access to her as she fucked into her hard, relentless. “I- I need, please -”

“What do you need? You need me to call you Yeji ?” Ryujin growled, punctuating her teasing words with thrusts that made Yeji’s head spin. “You need me to call you mine ?”

“Please, fuck, yes, please,” she said, and it was messy and desperate against Ryujin’s skin, and she couldn’t speak when Ryujin’s thumb found her clit and pressed down hard, so she just bit down as if that were enough of an answer.

“Louder.”

She complied, as best as she could, and her throat began to hurt with the volume of her cries, but she kept going.

But Ryujin still wasn’t letting her come.

She realized it when she began to shake with repressed frustration, and she felt a few more tears slid out of her as Ryujin fucked into her in an agonizing, torturous, alternating rhythms, some strokes so hard that they made her scream, some so soft she whimpered for more, some curled just right to hit that spot that made her almost come apart right there, just for it to be gone the next moment.

“Ryujin,” she pleaded, her voice cracking as a hard jolt of Ryujin’s fingers, combined with the flick of the thumb against her clit, made her tremble, made her pant against the ruined shoulder. “Ryujin-ah, please, I can’t-”

Ryujin lifted an eyebrow at her, and her eyes were eating her alive, pinning her to the spot, dark and full of darker promises, if she would only earn them.

“Please,” she begged, louder, harder, because it was all she had, shaking and broken, her face strewn with the remnants of tears and just a hint of Ryujin’s blood. “Please, tell me to come, let me come for you, I’ll be good, make me good for you, I-I’m yours, I- please, fuck- I can’t- please , Ryu, I’m yours , call me- tell me-”

“ My Yeji ,” Ryujin said, her voice as dark as her eyes, and Yeji cried out as she felt Ryujin’s fingers settle finally, finally into a consistent rhythm, hard enough to hit the spot that made her tighten around her fingers, again and again, her thumb ceaselessly pressing into her.

“ Mine. Come for me, now .”

And Yeji did, and she was nothing but aching, mind-numbing pleasure and pain making her arch up, pressing her into Ryujin’s warm body, slick with her own sweat and fluids. She heard the noise that was drawn from her as if from a distance, crying her own pleasure into the broken skin of Ryujin’s shoulder, and her throat screamed in pain but it was so, so good.

The aftermath was a dizzying headlessness. She lay spent, drained, curled against Ryujin and whimpering small, soft things over and over again, apologizing and promising to be good and begging for her and everything else that fell from her mind into her mouth.

Everything felt aching, warm, and swollen, the satisfaction giving into some bigger feeling that made her cling and cry and tremble. It felt good, but it was so much, too much, and Ryujin might have known this, might have been looking for this, because she didn’t call for it again, just holding her and murmuring things into her ear in response that Yeji wouldn’t remember.

“Yeji-yah,” Ryujin said finally, louder, when she had stopped sniffling and her quiet pleadings became less and less frequent. “We can’t sleep like this.”

“Don’t leave ,” Yeji whispered, a fresh wave of that overwhelming feeling breaking over her, and she was dimly aware of how pathetic she looked but Ryujin did nothing but shake her head at her.

Yeji let out a soft whimper, shaking her head too and clutching closer to her, as much as she could.

They did get up in the end, Ryujin pulling her away more gently than Yeji would have thought possible. Nor could she have imagined that once the blue-haired woman cleaned herself up, she would return with a damp towel to clean off the sticky mess that was Yeji’s thighs and chin and neck and chest and- well, everything really.

Yeji fussed a little at the contact, but quieted when Ryujin picked her up, carrying her to the couch.

It felt worse, somehow, so much worse, when Ryujin left her for the night, albeit with a warm blanket and an oddly gentle pat on the head. Even though the headspace Ryujin had essentially fucked her into from earlier had worn off, slightly, Yeji still felt pathetic, and needy, and miserable, and then pathetic all over again, and the only thing that could have brought her any comfort was shut behind the bedroom door, apparently feeling perfectly fine.

She thought, with another surge of soft misery, of what Jihyo might think of her promising rookie if she saw her now, and it made her pull the blankets over her head to disguise the sounds of her own quiet sobs, not that Shin Ryujin would be listening.

Ryujin was different that morning.

Yeji had woken up to the younger woman over her again, and the small flare of almost Pavlovian arousal was erased entirely by the renewed blankness of her expression.

“Get dressed,” Ryujin had said shortly, her tone clipped and cold as she turned to leave, just like that.

Yeji had met her outside, heart pounding, without even stopping to grab breakfast. She couldn’t help it- the distance she had felt at times with the others, despite their pleasant exterior, was bad enough, but she wasn’t used to Ryujin acting the way she had before- well, everything, from the throwing stars and the clinic to their nights together. It made her feel a little pathetic all over again, and she compensated by allowing silence to rest between them as Ryujin drove.

They pulled up beside Chaeryeong’s warehouse. 

Relief flooded through Yeji, which was could have been counterintuitive, considering the context of her only interactions thus far with Chaeryeong’s warehouse, but it accounted for Ryujin’s mood change, at least.

Someone, somewhere, had fucked up, and was about to pay the price.

The younger woman touched her shoulder before she could open the car door, firm enough to draw her attention yet barely more than the lightest of contacts.

She turned, waiting expectantly for Ryuin to speak, trying to read any hint of what was coming in her expression, but Ryujin’s face betrayed nothing.

“Be careful,” she said, and then she was turning to push her own door open, and Yeji could only follow suit.

The metal doors closed behind them, and the familiar setting came into view. The other three were already there, waiting for them, turning as they entered, and her eyes slid automatically to the center of the room, where the figure of a young woman sat in the chair, and-

Yeji felt her heart crash to a halt, as all of the blood drained from her face at once.

Nayeon.

Chapter Text

“No luck?”

Momo’s voice was sympathetic, but even that didn’t help Sana’s frustration much. She hated feeling like this, the tears building in her eyes enough of an answer.

“Come here.”

She climbed slowly into Momo’s arms on the couch. Usually Yeji was the one who suffered her tactile nature, but, well, Yeji wasn’t here, right now-

A drop of water fell onto Momo’s jeans. 

“The Bureau won’t tell me anything , Momoring,” she muttered, her nickname for Momo the only real comfort about the sentence. “I know- I know it’s classified, I just thought…”

“She’ll be alright. They told us, remember, she’s doing fine, she’s reporting-”

“But they don’t know her ,” Sana insisted, wiping her nose a little on her sleeve. “I mean, they do, of course, but not like- what if she’s not okay, what if they’re hurting her, what if-”

Momo let her run out of steam, over the course of the next hour or so. Her eyes were watery, too, by the end of it, but the tears didn’t fall.

“It was her decision, Satang,” she reminded Sana gently, hoping her nickname too would be another comfort, would work some kind of magic, would make Sana smile again. “All we can do is be here for her, until she gets back, okay?”

Sana nodded, and attempted a smile, but it was clearly more for Momo’s benefit than her own.

She had taken to sleeping in Yeji’s room, after the first week of their youngest friend’s absence. Momo didn’t know what to do, or how to make it better, except to lay there in the dark, uselessly listening to the sound of Sana’s muffled sniffling, until they both eventually fell asleep.

She knew that it felt like a missing limb, to the both of them. She knew it too in the way that Nayeon found excuses to stop by the apartment, sneaking glances at Yeji’s room each time  as if hoping the brunette would appear there, as if she had been asleep the entire time and not engaged in whatever the fuck Nayeon was probably feeling guilty for getting her mixed up in. 

Even Son Chaeyoung came by, who sometimes dropped in on Yeji’s bar to pick up extra shifts if she needed new paints- she was an artist, which was such a thing to be in this world, and yet it worked for her. She seemed to be the last of the ones who knew about Yeji’s assignment, or at least that she had one, from her standing as Mina’s partner. They thought she might ask for money, but she just seemed to want a cup of tea and conversation, and somehow Momo found her and Sana to be the unofficial shoulders to lean on for everyone who felt Yeji’s absence acutely. Even though they themselves often felt like they were falling apart.

Sometimes, at night, Sana would crawl into her bed instead of Yeji's, would curl up beside her and press her face into her back. Momo never mentioned it in the morning, when she would wake up to an empty space beside her, and she would never admit it to anyone else, but it provided her some comfort, too, as they spent their days incurably waiting.

The Bureau members comforted themselves in other ways.

They were professionals, after all. One of their own out on an assignment was nothing new, but still, Jihyo found Tzuyu working longer and longer hours, and Dahyun pulling up Yeji’s terse chat messages at random hours, as if by reading them again, she could find something hidden that they had missed before, something to make her say alright, we’ve got enough for the case, you can come home.

But they didn’t have enough, still. 

Sure, they had this Lia woman’s clinic, but that was enough to bust her, not Shin Ryujin directly. Same thing for that sketchy warehouse that Yeji seemed to dread so much, and besides, walking into it blind guaranteed nothing. And sure, they had some other names- Jihyo’s grip on her pen always tightened at the thought of Chaeryeong, a knife, I wonder if she was the one who killed-

But as in the beginning, names weren’t enough, of course. If they could just organize something, if Yeji could just get them something more solid, more damning-

Jihyo sighed, pulling another file in front of her, from a different case.

She couldn’t afford to obsess about this as much as she was.

She had a job to do.

And then Jeongyeon stepped into her office, her face ashen.

Don’t react . 

The illusion of Jihyo’s voice sounded sharply in Yeji’s ear, her entire body freezing as her training took over.

Don’t react. Fear is the first killer. Feel it, master it, don’t react, don’t-

Nayeon looked at her. 

There was a heavy bruise under her right eye, and flecks of blood on her shirt, but she seemed otherwise unharmed, even as Yeji could see her shaking, slightly.

“Yeji-yah,” she whispered softly, though there was something heavier in her gaze. 

Because of course, a person didn’t get involved with the head of the City’s Crisis Mangement department at the Bureau without a certain level of training herself, and Yeji could read the subtext in Nayeon’s eyes, in her casual, familiar address.

They know that she knows me already. There’s no point pretending.

Though, something in Yeji told her that if she was really busted, truly busted, the insides of her head would already be decorating the floor of Chaeryeong’s warehouse.

She took a breath in, shakily, allowing it to be audible, and strode forward without a care to any of the others in the room, or another thought about the Bureau.

The only thing she was thinking of was Nayeon .

“Unnie,” she murmured, crouching down to push Nayeon’s hair out of her eyes. She swiveled, suddenly, turning on Chaeryeong with narrowed eyes, some of the cold fire raging inside her at Nayeon’s injuries spill into her expression, her tone. 

“What the fuck did you do to her?”

“Careful,” Ryujin said quietly, in the same tone she had used in the car, but she wasn’t looking at Yeji- she was staring determinedly at Nayeon, just over Yeji’s shoulder, and Yeji read the message clearly in her intonation and her posture.

I’m on my own for this one.

So much for being yours , Yeji thought bitterly, her eyes going to the fabric of the shirt that covered Ryujin's shoulder, hiding the healing bite mark there from view so completely it might not have been there at all.

Chaeryeong spoke, her voice deadly calm, even cheerful, and Yeji’s attention flashed back to her.

“You didn’t actually think that we wouldn’t verify your background, did you? If you’re going to insist on pretending to care about us?”

Yeji swallowed, biting back an odd nervous laugh.

They think she’s my friend- my coworker from our bar. 

They don’t know about the Bureau.

“I’m not- surely there was a less… messy way to verify it,” she said, trying to voice an element of calm into her voice, tripping a little over her words, pushing any other thoughts out of her mind. 

Chaeryeong saw right through her attempt, her smirk broadening as she played idly with her knife of the day- a small, silvery dagger, flashing in an almost dizzying manner, distracting in and of itself.

“Maybe, but I prefer my methods. She’s been a little reticent, to say the least, so we were hoping you could fill in the gaps.”

Yeji could not have known how her face looked, right then.

After the weeks of effort, after the weeks together, this-

This was an interrogation.

She saw it in the brutality of Chaeryeong’s ‘methods’, in the way Yuna and Lia’s gazes burned into the side of her face, though they didn’t seem to be having an active role in this, somehow, and she could not have known what they would find in her expression, the way it screamed blanket terror and fury.

She could not have known that they would see it as fear only for the life of her friend, and the swell of anger at someone hurting that friend, and nothing more.

She could not have known how very lucky she was, to be so unprofessionally transparent at that moment.

What Yeji did know was that their two stories would be compared, scrutinized even, and though she didn’t know exactly what Nayeon had told them, she knew enough to keep it general and yet close to the truth.

“Nayeon unnie is my- my coworker. We worked at the bar together before it got hit by the gangs, and we were supposed to start up another one, but I started looking for something new.”

Nayeon’s expression stayed firm, and she made no movement at all, which gave Yeji some modicum of confidence that she was on the right track.

“She’s my friend. She doesn’t- she shouldn’t get mixed up in all this, seriously. It’s not her-”

“It’s not her choice, or yours,” Chaeryeong cut in, and all signs of cheerfulness had left her voice. 

Instead, she sounded cold and exacting, ruthless, and Yeji knew she wasn’t enjoying it anymore, now that they were past the initial shock and hopefully had been able to match each other’s stories well enough. 

“Where does she live?”

Yeji allowed herself to snort, as if she thought the blunt, bare-faced questioning was a little much. “In the City, like I did, of course. North Quadrant, the building with red gate out front.”

“Any roommates?”

“Just her girlfriend, Jeongyeon.”

Nayeon shifted, almost imperceptibly, and Yeji cursed her mistake, realizing, her heart plummeting again, that the others hadn’t actually known Jeongyeon’s name. 

It was hardly uncommon, though, as far as names go, and she allowed herself to breathe, thinking that perhaps volunteering new information, in addition to answering the questions, would be enough. She seized the opportunity to speak more, in the pause that followed.

“Like I said, Nayeon unnie is my friend. We’re able to not see each other for long stretches of time, and then pick up as if no time had passed at all. I haven’t spoken with her in months. I know- I know that you can’t quite trust me yet, but I think you all know you can trust her to have no relevance to any of this.”

She worried she had laid it on a little thick, but she was damned if she didn’t at least try to get Nayeon out, using reason and knowing it would work better than emotion. She surveyed the others, trying not to make it too obvious.

Lia was staring between her and Nayeon, and Yeji wondered if she could sniff out any sign of omitted truths, but her round face was oddly pensive again, and she gave Yeji a short, almost apologetic nod. Yuna was standing next to her, and her expression was carefully blank, though her shoulders were tense. Her hand hadn’t wandered to hug the curve of her gun, but Yeji knew that it could, at a moment’s notice. 

Neither of them seemed as bloodthirsty as Chaeryeong, and it was with a new spark of anger that she understood the black-haired woman in front of her was probably solely responsible for this entire situation, and that she had probably been looking for something or someone to scare or force Yeji out the whole time, and Ryujin still wasn’t looking at her .

“Where did you two meet?”

Yeji gave the honest answer, knowing better than to try and invent a backstory. “In the youth centers.”

“You were raised in the centers?”

It was Ryujin who had spoken, almost against her own will, it seemed, because even as Yeji turned to look at her, the shadow-haired woman’s eyes never left Nayeon, her face still determined devoid of anything telling.

Yeji nodded, slowly, shifting her gaze back to Chaeryeong’s chilling expression. 

“Yeah. Can’t remember anything before it.”

No one said anything, and she wondered if even crime syndicates were sympathetic to a tragic backstory- though really, it wasn’t quite as tragic so much as it was common. An age old tale, a byproduct of the bombings and the famines and everything else that had torn Korea apart- thousands, even millions of orphans, pipelined into centers and kicked to the streets at the slightest signs of trouble.

Yeji spoke again, letting some of her own coldness back into her tone. 

Chaeryeong might be playing with that knife of hers, but she was Shin Ryujin’s , just like all of them surely were, in one way or another, and whether or not the others were planning to actually accept her, she knew they had to at least respect that. She wondered how far she could push it- it seemed to be a weak sort of protection, now, with the leader barely feet from her and acting as if she didn’t exist, but it was really all she had, and she leaned on it with a hard shiver in her voice.

“Is it over, now? Have you verified everything? Because I really haven’t lied to you all again- I’m don’t actually have a death wish.”

Chaeryeong let out a sharp, humorous sound, as if this were laughable, but Yeji continued doggedly.

“I mean it. I'm not that stupid. You and I both know that Nayeon really has nothing to do with any of this, so if this is all finished, can you let her go?”

Yeji wasn’t sure if it should have come out as a question, but she certainly wasn’t in the position to make demands. 

She relied instead on a forced nonchalance, to let the others know that yes, she was scared, but she also found the whole thing to be a bit of an insult, to be entirely overdramatic. 

She wanted to undermine whatever bullshit Chaeryeong had been spitting about her, whatever speculations she had drawn, and though she knew it was Chaeryeong she really had to address, to convince, she really had no actual plan of how to do so.

She won’t respond to begging. In fact, she wants you to beg, she wants you to cry, she wants you to break. Show her that you won’t. Show her that you’re strong, and that you didn’t lie, and hope for the best.

For Nayeon’s sake, as well as your own.

Yeji really hadn’t lied, not at all, and perhaps that was what made Chaeryeong double down, as if she could sense her own pillar of reason slipping, off balance, with the silence of the other three around her.

“I don’t know,” Chaeryeong said softly, her voice as delicate as the edge of her knife, her head tilting in mock-consideration. “She’s seen a little too much, hasn’t she?”

“Her girlfriend works at the Bureau,” Yeji said, and she felt the impact of her own words and everyone in the room tensed, though she couldn’t help it, not if it stalled Chaeryeong’s eager hand, the glint of the dagger flashing dangerously. “Kill her, and they’ll know. Jeongyeon-ssi is too smart not to notice if she goes missing.”

She hoped the honorific would throw them off, but Chaeryeong’s lips parted, tasting blood, and her cruel smile returned. “Friendly with the station, are you?”

Yeji kept her voice as unfeeling as she could, her words clipped. 

“Considering they got my older sister killed, no, not really.”

Silence, as something fractured in Chaeryeong’s eyes.

Well, if it wasn’t personal with her yet, it is now.

It also wasn’t a lie. She had stuck to the truth, wisely, or perhaps luckily, as the weight of six additional sets of eyes burned into them, Lia herself leaning forwards, slightly.

Yeji’s sister, Yeju, had indeed died on an assignment from the Bureau a few years ago. She had risen up through the ranks of the Social Welfare division, far from Yeji’s own standing in Investigative Crime.

All it took was one particularly unlucky call, and the desperation of a particularly shitty father who decided if he couldn’t have his daughter, no one could. 

Yeji had tried to picture it, sometimes. Yeju in the doorway, one arm protectively stretched in front of the eight year old girl, shielding her from the bullet with her own body. Her assignment partner had fired back at the man, but it had been too late.

It made her sick, to think about it, and she had had nothing to do with the Bureau since, putting it all firmly in the category of her life titled When Yeju Was Alive . It was almost funny, weaponizing it now to help her on an assignment from the Bureau, rooting her story in the past instead of the present, though it made her feel even sicker, as if she were tainting Yeju’s memory by bringing her into the scene.

The statement did its job, though. 

Chaeryeong’s grin had vanished, and the air grew thick, heavier still, as if everyone were holding their breath, waiting for the explosion of violence that was sure to come-

“Enough.” Ryujin’s voice cut through the tension, and Yeji felt herself exhale slightly. Chaeryeong had seemed seconds away from either stabbing them both or breaking down entirely, neither of which she wished to see.

“That’s enough, Chaeryeong-ah. Yuna-yah, untie her.”

Yuna did so immediately, though Yeji stepped forwards as she made to lead a shaky Nayeon out.

“If you’re actually going to kill her, do it here.” Her voice sounded brittle, even to her own ears. “I would rather- I would rather she not be alone.”

Ryujin regarded her closely, her eyes piercing into her for something, then flickering behind her, to where Lia stood. Whatever she saw made her nod sharply, and Yuna let out a soft sigh in response as she pulled out her gun from her waistband, unsmiling, for once.

Fuck.

There was nothing more she could do, Yeji knew.

She had tried everything, even the Bureau, played every last card in her hand, and it was ultimately futile, because Nayeon had seen too much, and there was nothing more she could do, and the knowledge was of no use to her, only serving to keep her frozen in place, Jihyo and Dahyun’s impassive warnings and trainings flaring in her mind. 

It didn’t stop her brain from careening out of control, spinning into potential solutions, everything from getting on her knees and begging to just lunging forwards and wrestling the gun from Yuna and trying to go out fighting, though she knew she would never make it, and Chaeryeong would be all too happy to put her dagger to use on the pair of them if she tried.

“Wait,” Nayeon said, speaking again at last, and her voice was so shaky and resigned that Yeji actually felt something inside herself crack. 

Yuna paused, looking at Ryujin, and the shadow-haired woman simply inclined her head as she turned to Nayeon expectantly. 

“Can- can Yeji-yah be the one to do it?”

Bile rose in Yeji’s throat, but she swallowed it down. 

She understood what Nayeon’s eyes were saying, but it didn’t make her insides stop crawling, screaming, ripping themselves apart, piece by piece.

Do this, and they’ll trust you. For good, this time.

And something deeper, hidden in the depths of Nayeon’s expression: 

Please, don’t let them be the ones to kill me.

“Of course, unnie,” she said quietly, her voice cracking slightly. 

Ryujin must have nodded, too, because Yuna handed her the gun, which she held carefully. It was light, lighter than the Bureau ones, and the safety was off already, so she raised it, slowly, only halfway.

Funny.

Weeks of training, of spending days and nights in front of the Bureau’s shooting range or wherever they could practice, and her hands shook now as if she had never held a gun before in her life.

And it must now be said that Hwang Yeji had never actually killed someone before.

Of course she hadn’t. It wasn’t like- fuck, she had seen the bodies of the sick ones in the youth center, gone quiet, at last, but it wasn’t like it was a common thing, no matter how broken the world was.

Yeju swam to the front of her mind again, in spite of herself, and suddenly, she was a scrawny teenager, watching her older sister get dressed for her first shift at the Bureau, her eyes on the state-issued gun on her hip.

“What if…”

Yeju didn’t spare her a glance, doing up the buttons of her uniform.

“What if what?”

“What if you get hurt?”

It was childish, and they had long stopped being children, but Yeju did turn to look at her, at that, her expression soft but her jaw hard.

“I won’t. Don’t worry, Yeji-yah, I barely even have a role in this assignment. It’s a standard check-in, nobody’s going to kill anyone.”

Her older sister, winced, slightly, at her own words, having said kill instead of hurt without thinking, and crossed to squeeze Yeji’s shoulder, briefly, bracingly.

“Would you?” Yeji asked, before she had a chance to speak. “Kill anyone?”

Yeju smiled. It was that brittle kind of smile that she only used, Yeji knew, for her younger sister’s benefit, for a reassurance, if an ingenuine one.

“To protect someone? If I have to.”

She said it like it took no thought at all, but her eyes were as troubled as always, and her smile dropped like a stone as she took her hand off of Yeji’s shoulder, too soon.

Yeji wasn’t protecting anyone.

Well.

She was protecting herself, but that just made her feel sicker, her hands on the gun slippery with sweat.

She might be protecting Nayeon- Nayeon had asked for this, but god, this was a fucking human life, the life of one of her closest friends, so fuck protection, fuck the Bureau, fuck everything-

Yeji moved- everyone in the room tensed, again- and placed the muzzle of the gun against her own temple.

She could still feel it trembling. She could also feel her heartbeat there, through the metal. It was quick and flighty, and so desperate to keep going she might have laughed.

“Hwang Yeji,” Nayeon said softly, almost piteously, before anyone else could speak, and Yeji’s vision blurred because she knew it, too, she knew that even if she blew her own fucking brains out right there, or even if she caved, dropped the gun and ran and felt the relief of whatever blade or bullet would follow- none of that would change that fact that Im Nayeon would die here.

At her hands, or another's.

She could be selfish. She could be weak. She could deny one of her closest friends one last, deathbed request, or she could do it, because it would be done anyway, and because it was the only thing she could do, besides watch.

She hadn’t noticed the way that Ryujin had moved, when she had turned the gun on herself. Nor the way that Lia had held up a hand to stop her, her eyes laser-focused on the scene, as if it were a ruptured artery she needed to stitch up, or perhaps just a drained one she simply had to work around.

Yeji only looked into Nayeon’s eyes, and nodded, just once.

Okay. Your way, then.

If I see Jeongyeon unnie again, I’ll tell her you love her.

Nayeon nodded back, her chin raised as she squared herself, ready for the shot that she must have known might come one day, with who she had fallen in love with.

As Yeji finally brought the gun around to point at Nayeon, it suddenly felt as heavy as if it had been composed entirely of lead, its cold, dead weight against her skin. She held onto it, even though it made her sick.

It wasn’t fair. 

Yeji put her finger on the trigger.

It wasn’t fair .

Nayeon, laughing at the bar, pouring her a rum and Coke-

Nayeon, picking Jeongyeon up from work: “No more crises, today, love?”

Nayeon, weeks ago: “You’ve always wanted to have an assignment, haven’t you?”

Yeji fired with her eyes closed, barely registering when she had made the decision to do so. 

It all felt surreal, and she almost thought that perhaps, if she closed her eyes tightly enough, she could open them to her room back at the apartment with Sana and Momo, and it could all be a bad dream, and she could call up Nayeon for drinks as soon as she could reach her phone on the bedside table-

The familiar sound of a miniature explosion, of an impact, of a falling body never came. There was only a small click .

Then a soft, almost gentle voice: 

“Unnie, you can look. It’s okay.”

She opened her eyes to see Nayeon staring at her, shaken, her eyes wider than Yeji had ever seen them. 

Yuna, who had spoken, pulled her gun from Yeji’s frozen fingers. 

“Enough proof for you, Chaeryeong unnie?” their youngest said, her voice still tamer than usual, looking over to where the black-haired woman stood.

The world tilted, as reality crashed in, but Yeji fought off the sudden swell of sickness, the urge to fall into blackness. She turned sharply to look down at the floor, at the black boots approaching them both as the Ryujin responded tersely in Chaeryeong’s stead.

“It’s enough for me. Yuna-yah, drop her back at the City. Im Nayeon, speak of this to anyone and we won’t hesitate to kill you and Jeongyeon unnie before you’ve finished the sentence. You got mugged on your way home from work. Understand?”

There was a crack in the concrete floor. There were quite a few, actually. Yeji counted them, forcing back the thing inside her that was writhing and bleeding and howling.

“Don’t underestimate us,” said Lia, quietly from the corner. “Next time, it won’t be an empty gun.”

It was both a threat and a promise, and Nayeon nodded, swallowing, a stray tear falling down her cheek onto the cement floor. Yeji didn’t look at her as she left, trailing behind Yuna, something inside her still roaring dully. She focused on the cracks. Her right index finger, the one that had been on the trigger, hurt. There was a small red mark on it where it had been pressing into the metal.

They will never forgive me, she thought quietly, dizzyingly, uselessly.

I will never forgive me.

“Let’s go.” Ryujin’s voice sounded far away, suddenly, but it was too much, this time.

It was all too much, as the metal doors swung shut, and Yeji couldn’t hide from the well of darkness rising up inside her any longer, choking her, drowning her.

She heard Lia’s voice cry out a sharp warning as she fell, but by then she was nothing, nothing at all, and the relief of it was enough for a tear to finally break away from one of her closed eyes.

Yeji woke up wishing she hadn’t, a dull, throbbing pain in her head. 

She tried to sit up, but someone’s hand pushed her back down.

“None of that, Hwang.”

Ryujin’s voice was gentler than she had ever heard it before. She wondered at that, vaguely.

Yeji was only allowed a second of confusion, before she remembered, and then rolled over on her side, and promptly vomited up whatever it was that seemed to be clawing its way out of her stomach, sharp and acidic with the sick twist of the memory.

It sounded like it hit the lining of her trash can, and the feeling of Ryujin’s hand rubbing her back softly was enough to make her retch again, flinching away violently, though nothing more came up, and she fell back against the hard fabric of her couch.

She forced one eye open.

The motel swam into view, the familiar cracks in the ceiling a comfort she didn’t deserve, but then they reminded her of the cracks in the warehouse floor, and that, she did deserve, she knew as she bent again, heaving dryly, though there was still nothing left in her to be thrown up.

She sensed Ryujin’s presence next to her, though she didn’t turn her head. The younger woman got up, taking the trash can outside, and Yeji let her eyes fall shut again.

Every part of her ached. Her arm, still not fully healed from the throwing stars, hurt almost as much as her heart, as she remembered the way she had stood, shaking, aiming the gun at Nayeon.

Nayeon.

She squeezed her eyes shut, harder.

The gun had been empty. She had thought it seemed light- how had she missed the fact that it had been empty? 

She had been panicking. Terrified. Stumbling truths staggering out of her mouth, thinking only of her friend, any kind of training thrown completely out of the window.

And now, she couldn’t escape Nayeon’s pleading, determined expression even with her eyes shut, couldn’t stop her mind from twisting it.

What if it had been Jihyo? Dayhun? Or- god , what if it had been Sana? Or Tzuyu, or Momo-

Ryujin came back inside, shutting the door softly behind her, breaking Yeji out of her thoughts.

“How’re you feeling?” the blue-haired woman asked, her voice still inexplicably gentle, wary.

Yeji hated the way that she still felt that soft magnetism towards her, tugging words from her lips. 

“Do I have to answer?”

She barely recognized her own voice. It was hoarse, and tired, heavy with the unbearable weight of what had happened.

What are you doing to me, Shin Ryujin? 

What am I becoming?

She didn’t want to open her eyes. She didn’t want to see anything ever again, wanted to live with Nayeon’s face imprinted on the back of her eyelids, as if that would ever be enough of a penance.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do,” Ryujin said, carefully, measuredly, and that made her want to both sob and scream, though her voice was still lifeless when she replied.

“Too late for that.”

“I know.”

It was quiet, for a moment.

“Is she-”

She didn’t want to finish her question. Ryujin, thankfully, responded immediately.

“She’s safe. Yuna took care of her.”

Yeji snorted in spite of herself, though it lacked any real humor. “Those two sentences don’t really go together.”

“Lia went with them, too. Here-” Ryujin produced a phone- her personal one, it seemed, sleek in a simple black case, tapping on the screen quickly before showing Yeji a photo. 

Yeji opened her eyes, and the dim light hurt, but no more than she deserved, because she still needed to know.

It was Nayeon, her hand outstretched to open the door to her apartment with the familiar red gate out front, her eyes on the camera warily, as if she had just been dropped off home.

Yeji swallowed back the knot that the image had tied in her throat.

Pictures were not to be trusted, she knew. Tzuyu had taught her well enough that anything that was digital could also be faked, but still the spark of hope inside her persisted, and it almost made her sick all over again.

“Don’t lie to me,” she whispered, feeling another wrench inside her at the irony, and she was too exhausted to keep the pleading note from her voice. 

“I’m not lying. She’s safe, I give you my word.”

Yeji could have laughed at that. 

Your word should mean nothing, though mine surely means even less.

“I’m sorry.”

A stab of pain went through her neck as she jerked around to look at Ryujin, properly, finally.

Her dark brown eyes were molten, and her face was soft, none of the usual drawn, chiseled tension and ice Yeji recognized.

“I should have stepped in earlier. I knew they wouldn’t have given you a loaded one, I just- I didn’t-”

Ryujin cut herself off, swallowing, pushing her dark hair out of her face with one distracted hand.

“Did Lia or Yuna tell you about Chaeyeon unnie? The details, I mean.”

It was a change of topic, but Yeji couldn’t help feeling curious as she shook her head. Anything to stop thinking, really.

“She’s Chaeryeong’s sister. Older sister. They were- they were inseparable, really. I mean, they got into fights, of course, as all siblings did. A little more bloodshed than most,” Ryujin admitted with a wry, forced grin, and Yeji wondered if that expression on her face meant nostalgia. “Chaeyeon was- she was a lot of things, really. Funny. Ruthless, of course, but never too cruel. She looked after us, even though I was still the one- the one in charge. She was older than any of us- older than you, probably. We thought we could trust her. I mean, of course we did. She was one of us.”

Her expression darkened, suddenly, and Yeji could see an old, bitter kind of pain etched in every line of her face.

“It turned out she had been working with the Bureau for months before we finally found out.”

“What? Why?” Yeji questioned in spite of the stabbing pain in her head, her heart skipping a beat at the mention of the Bureau. 

Ryujin sighed, and it sounded so complicated that Yeji couldn’t even begin to decipher it.

“She fell in love.”

Whatever Yeji had been expecting, it had not been that.

“What?”

Ryujin laughed, humorlessly. “I know. It took us by surprise too, to say the least. She fell in love with this girl from the Bureau, and I guess the girl- Sakura, I think her name was- convinced her to try and leave. She worked with them all to try and get herself a plea deal. Not just for herself- for Chaeryeong, too.”

Yeji’s mouth was dry, suddenly, and she wished she could throw up again. 

Sakura.

“What happened?”

Ryujin sighed, bitterness in every syllable of her words. “Well, Chaeyeon unnie told Chaeryeong, eventually. Tried to get her to run away with them. Guess the rest of us meant fuck all to her- not that it mattered, in the end.” 

But Yeji could tell that it had mattered, at least to Ryujin, from the clench of her jaw to the pain in her eyes, and wondered if she had always been so readable, or if it was just when the topic concerned one of them, as Ryujin continued.

“Chaeryeong shot her as she tried to run, then worked over Sakura with her knife. It wasn’t pretty- Lia couldn’t watch-”

Ryujin cut herself off, her breathing ragged as she looked away.

So it was Sakura, from the Bureau. She was the dead detective, the real reason for Yeji being in this shitty motel in front of Shin Ryujin at all.

She had known Sakura, if only from afar; a pink-headed, cheerful girl that worked under Jihyo. Reliable, an easy presence at their parties- missing lately, though Yeji had assumed- she hadn’t known-

“Why are you telling me this?” was the only thing Yeji could think to ask, her head almost collapsing in on itself again with the information.

Ryujin regarded her carefully, some of the tension leaving her face. 

“So you know what trust means, to us. And so you know why when one of us has an issue with it, and they bring it to me, I do everything I can to fix it. Especially when it comes to Chaeryeong-ah.”

Yeji let this soak in for a moment, wincing as she lay back, staring up at the cracked ceiling.

It didn’t make it better. 

Nothing would, probably.

But it made it make sense.

She wondered if Chaeyeon had been their informant, then. It seemed so obvious, now- Ryujin’s expression in that one blurry photograph, the way Jihyo and Dahyun had withheld her name, her connection to Sakura, their detective. She wondered what else they hadn’t told her.

“I really am sorry.” 

Ryujin’s voice brought her back to earth, and she looked over at those intense eyes, now back to an unreadably complicated expression.

“I didn’t- I haven’t been treating you- we haven’t been-”

Words, it seemed, failed her, until finally she gave up, slumping back in her seat a little.

“Do you want me to leave?”

Yeji swallowed, unsure of how to answer that. 

“No,” she finally said, softly, her voice still hoarse. “No, I- thank you. For stopping them.”

She had to say it, though it curdled her tongue to do so.

Ryujin just shook her head. But she stayed sitting beside Yeji until the brunette spoke again, her voice trembling.

“Is this all, Ryujin-ssi? Are we- can this be all? Because I really- I really don’t know how much more of this I can take.”

Yeji was breaking the rules, and she knew it. 

The rules of whatever game they were playing, pushing each other, keeping up careful, cool facades and letting implications do all the work. It wasn’t in the rules to acknowledge it, nor was it in them to beg for it to be over, to beg for some semblance of clarity, but Yeji was honest, truly honest, for the first time in a while when she said she didn’t know how much more of it she could handle before breaking, if she hadn’t been broken enough already.

Ryujin leaned forward, biting her lip as she pushed some of Yeji’s hair out of her face. Her touch was gentle, though it still sent a shiver through her body. 

“There’s one more thing,” Ryujin said softly, hesitance marring her words. “Before you become one of us. Like, actually one of us. It just- it might hurt, Yeji-yah.”

Yeji’s eyes widened, her cheeks flushing in spite of herself at the sound of her name. 

“What is it?” she asked, slowly.

Ryujin pulled something small and round from her pocket, suspended on a metal stick. It was a bit of cylindrical metal Yeji realized, straining her eyes to make out what was etched on the face of it, the blocky letters SRJ .

It was only when Ryujin took out a small white lighter that she realized. 

It was a brand.

SRJ

Shin Ryu-Jin.

The initials were in the western alphabet, but there were smaller Hangul characters underneath as well, now that she looked closer at it.

믿어

Trust.

She swallowed thickly, her eyes never leaving the metal.

So this was what Ryujin was, why they were all called by one name out on runs. Because that was their name. They were banded and branded together, under and with Shin Ryujin, for better or for worse, forever.

This was what it meant to be one of them.

“Where?”

Ryujin didn’t miss a beat. “Anywhere you’d like, really. I have mine on my hip. Lia and Yuna have theirs on the side of their ribs. Chaeryeong got hers on her shoulder.”

“Not a tattoo?”

She had heard of tattoos being a common hallmark of gangs, and had been surprised to see no ink adorning the skin of any of the others, at least not in obvious places. A brand, instead, was something that hadn't even been on her radar.

“Yuna’s afraid of needles.”

Yeji nodded, her lips twitching suddenly, absurdly, at the image of Lia trying to convince Yuna to get a vaccine shot.

She took a deep breath. 

“It hurts?”

Ryujin nodded.

“What about…” she trailed off, unsure of how to bring it up. The sting of betrayal she still felt, part of what had made her insides crawl and cry. 

“I thought I was yours, already?”

Ryujin tensed, slightly, and though a small, rueful grin flashed across her face, she wiped it away with a hand. 

“There’s a difference between being mine, and being one of us. I think you’ve earned the latter.”

Yeji nodded. 

“As long as the others don’t have to fuck me, too, to like, seal the deal, or whatever,” she said wryly, trying to make light of the nervousness coursing through her. 

It seemed ridiculous, to be even attempting a joke, but every second that ticked by brought her further and further from what happened in the warehouse, and she wanted to not think about it, to never think about it again. She almost welcomed the physical pain, the promise of some defining event that wasn’t what had happened already.

Ryujin let out a small, surprised chuckle. “Absolutely not.”

“Great. I think one of them would kill me before anyone finished, anyway.”

Another short laugh. Yeji took another deep breath, wondering if it ever helped. 

“Alright, then.”

Ryujin nodded, pocketing the lighter. “It takes too long with that thing,” she explained dryly, striding over to the single burner stove in the corner of the room, the motel’s pathetic excuse for a kitchenette.

Yeji watched as she heated the small, round surface of the brand over the flame of the stove, the smell of hot metal filling the room.

She knew that Dahyun would probably have advised her not to do it. Tzuyu would have gone a step further, telling her she’d hack her computer and expose all of her shameful internet history if Yeji even considered it. Jihyo would have probably said something cryptic, like that she should consider all of her options fully before making a choice.

It hurt to think of them, suddenly, and she pushed them out of her mind.

It had hurt to think of Ryujin, too, but that was fading, a lot faster than it probably should have, as she watched the slightly shorter woman heat the metal over the stove, her eyes fixed and her brow furrowed in concentration.

Her side profile was kind of insane, the sharp angle of her jaw, the way her hair fell in a beautiful, blue-black cropped curtain, and Yeji let herself get lost in her, drinking her in to avoid feeling anything else.

Ryujin turned to her after a few minutes.

“Do you know where you want it?”

Yeji nodded, hesitantly, before asking the question.

“Can I have it on my hip, too?” she asked quietly, and Ryujin’s eyes caught hers again.

The moment was charged with something she couldn’t name, before Ryujin looked away and nodded, sharply.

It was a few more minutes before she spoke again. 

“It’s ready.”

Yeji couldn’t stifle her sharp inhale, a small thrill of fear running through her. Shaking it off, she pulled off her pants slowly, still sensitive to quick movements, covering herself as best as she could with her hands. She couldn’t help the blush that she knew rose in her cheeks when Ryujin’s eyes dropped to her legs as the younger woman carried the brand over, hating herself for still reacting in such a way.

Ryujin paused when the brand was only inches away from the skin of Yeji’s hip, close enough for her to feel the heat.

“Are you sure?”

Yeji met her eyes, and nodded.

Ryujin pressed the scalding metal brand to her skin in one sharp, fluid motion.

A howl of pain ripped its way through her, tearing out of her throat, and she surged forwards like an animal, though one of Ryujin’s ready arms came up to push her back down. The younger woman held her hip in place with the brand as the dizzying smell of burning flesh filled the room, coupled with the hiss of hot metal on skin that nearly made her pass out again.

“I know,” Ryujin murmured, her eyes fixed determinedly on the place where Yeji was burning. “I know.”

It was only a few seconds, Yeji knew, but they were agonizingly long, and it was almost worse when Ryujin pulled back, the skin angry and aching, screaming with a pain that she knew would last a long, long time, and she moaned with a gutteral agony, nearly passing out all over again.

It hurt .

It was twisted, but part of her reveled in it, a kind of reverse baptism, but with fire instead of water, because to be part of Shin Ryujin surely burned . It certainly cleared her mind, her senses, of anything else, leaving only the raw scream of her nerves in its wake, an aching throb on the side of her hip.

Ryujin covered it gently with a bandage that Yeji hadn’t realized she had, the adhesive corners making her hiss in pain as they touched the inflamed skin.

Ryujin bent down slowly- Yeji tensed- and pressed her lips to the bandage softly, so quickly that the brunette would have missed it had she blinked, and though it probably singed the skin of her lips Ryujin said nothing, straightening up and turning to put the brand in the sink to cool, as if it had never happened. 

Yeji looked down. Through the edge of the tan bandages, she could make out the raised, furious skin, the Hangul characters and the letters SRJ.

Shin Ryujin.

On her skin, forever now.

Yeji swallowed, unable to escape the thought that it didn’t even matter.

As if Ryujin hadn’t made a mark on her, already, everlasting.

Ryujin returned, though she only lifted her eyes from the bandage when the shadow-haired woman sat back down, placing a small bottle beside her bed.

“Aloe vera,” she said shortly. “I’ll get you more bandages, too. You should change them as often as you can.”

Yeji managed a weak crack of a smile. “If I knew getting your brand would make you be nicer to me, I would have gotten it earlier, Ryujin-ssi.”

She worried it was overstepping, but Ryujin only grinned, shortly, still a little woodenly, though it seemed to be thawing in the aftermath of the heat. 

“Don’t get too used to it, Hwang.”

Yeji flinched as Ryujin reached for her, but the leader only tucked a bit of stray hair behind her ear, her tone softer at Yeji’s reaction as she dropped her gaze to the bandage on her hip.

“It won’t hurt, after a while.”

She nodded, a little sloppily.

Ryujin caught her chin lightly with the tip of her finger, lifting it gently, and Yeji met her gaze, her dark brown eyes intense and determined.

“I won’t hurt you anymore, after today.”

It was a sentiment that Yeji didn’t know how to react to. She nodded again, caught suddenly between the urge to laugh or to cry.

You’ll hurt me every day for the rest of my life, Shin Ryujin. 

She didn’t know when she had fallen back asleep, but when she awoke, Ryujin was gone, the bottle of aloe vera and a stack of bandages beside her the only thing left of her apart from the brand still burning on Yeji’s hip.

Chapter Text

Yeji spent the next week trying to act normal, whatever normal was, around the others.

Truly, there was no protocol for this. There was no way to expect, or to plan, just to do, just to hope, just to exist in the limbo of liminal space, because although she might have killed their doubts when she pulled that trigger, something else may have been lost in the process, or at least wounded. She hoped it might be only thin cracks, things that could be healed, not like the brand that made her hip ache no matter how well she tended to it.

The wound was still tender, and the pain still flared up at times. It seemed her arm had just healed, and now something new was blistering and bleeding- life, as part of Ryujin , would be a perpetual state of pain, it seemed, and one of the many questions Yeji had yet to answer was whether or not it had been worth it.

The others must have known she had gotten the brand. Ryujin must have told them, but when Lia picked her up, after a few days of rest (for the benefit of all of them, Yeji felt, not just her), the doctor still glanced at the way she guarded her hip while climbing into the driver’s seat, wincing a little as she buckled her seatbelt, and was uncharacteristically silent the whole way to the clinic.

“Can I come in with you?”

It was out of Yeji’s mouth before she could help it, and perhaps Lia paused a little longer than usual, before nodding, briefly.

And slowly, slowly, things fell back into place. Not the same place as before, not quite, ever-evolving, as always.

Yeji still helped out at the clinic. Nothing gory- still just menial tasks, everyday chores, but still there. Lia was as talkative as always, but she seemed mellower, and sometimes they existed in a mutual silence, and somehow it felt more intimate than when Lia was rambling expertly, always taking her off guard. 

And Yeji still went on runs, after a few more days of rest. Small ones, she could tell, lighter duffel bags and with one of the two wives, because she still drove them around.

Yuna treated her like before, but with a little more respect, all things considered. At least, Yeji didn’t feel quite so much like the punchline of a joke, and in their first week back Yuna had taken to wearing longer shirts, tugging them down to cover the gun in her hostler as if it were a second thought, and Yeji was infinitely grateful and of course never brought it up. 

When they had slowly stopped walking on eggshells, Yuna even insisted on teaching her how to drive a motorbike- just ‘in case’, whatever that meant, with a broad, mischievous grin on her face, but when Yeji nearly crashed into a signpost it felt like they were laughing together, instead of the younger woman laughing at her. And apparently, the motorbike was a source of more than a few fights between two wives, as Yeji found out over burgers afterwards.

“Of all the shit we do, unnie, can you believe that? She loses sleep over a motorbike . She even got me a helmet," Yuna expanded, wiping ketchup off her fingers delicately with a napkin.

“Really? Do you wear it?”

Yeji expected Yuna to tease her, to say and let it ruin my hair? Or to snort scathingly and ask have you ever seen me wearing it?

But Yuna just looked a little more red-cheeked than usual, her eyes determinedly on her half-eaten burger.

“Whenever I pick her up from the clinic.”

Yeji couldn’t help laughing at that too, and at Yuna’s over-dramatized slap on her shoulder in embarrassment, before she laughed, too.

Day by day, their conversations lighted. Day by day, she handed a tired Lia coffee, she carried their bags, she drove Yuna wherever she needed to go, or else sat with her in a side room in the clinic, waiting Lia to finish committing careful felonies in the other room, listening to the sound of the youngest typing, breaking laws she probably couldn’t even imagine and bending cyberspace to her will. 

And yet, Yeji was not required to drive or look after Chaeryeong, it seemed. Nor did they call her back to the warehouse for anything. 

She didn’t know if it was a good or a bad thing- she didn’t want them to think her weak- but she admitted, if only to herself, that it was a mercy of sorts. She didn’t even want to think about how she would react. She knew she would have to try again, eventually, that it would be asked of her once enough time had passed, but when exactly that would be, she had no clue, nor did she want to know.

She let time pass, and she buried herself in becoming a part of Ryujin , and she did not message the Bureau, or call them, or answer her phone, and she tried her best not to think of it at all, though she knew she would have to, eventually.

Yeji also hadn’t seen Ryujin since the branding. She thought that the leader would at least drop by to check on how the brand was healing, but at the pointed silence, she got the sense that the brands were somewhat personal, a quiet thing that drew them together- yet another contrast from the brazen, tattooed criminal crew she had imagined, months ago.

She wondered if Ryujin was avoiding her on purpose- she had been strangely soft, the more Yeji looked back on the memory of the criminal in her motel, burning her almost gently, her voice reassuring, and perhaps she was being punished for seeing that side of Ryujin, however small. 

Or perhaps not. Maybe being one of them, being a part of Ryujin ,  meant that she simply wasn’t Ryujin’s- well, Ryujin’s whore, for lack of a better word, anymore. 

Not that she should have minded. Whenever her hip still burned, the pain flared all along her side, no matter how much aloe vera she applied, though she wouldn’t go to Lia to prescribe her anything for it. She certainly wasn’t up for anything physical, even if the shadow-haired woman had wanted her again. 

And she didn’t, clearly, so. That was that.

Yeji wondered if it had always only been about power, that side of things between them, and while Ryujin still had indisputable power over her and the rest of them, they were more equal, now. She wondered whether it had always been just that, just a way to break her down, or if Ryujin had ever actually wanted to do it, and would want to again, and she hated a twisted part of her for hoping, just a little bit.

It ended up not mattering much in the end, under which exact circumstance she thought or even fantasized about seeing Ryujin again, because that was when Lia got hurt.

It was blood-chilling and yet almost funny, how something as routine as a dropoff errand went so wrong so quickly.

It was easy, most days, to do their runs for the day in an enjoyable blur, especially when she was partnered with their doctor. Even though she could still feel Lia watching her at times, her eyes lingering on Yeji’s now almost all the way healed arm or the delicacy with which Yeji treated her right hip, they could still talk, and laugh, and it was strikingly normal.

But that afternoon, around two weeks after the warehouse and the brand and everything else, the day was coming to an end, and the shadows were getting long, and Yeji was driving, as always, but she asked Lia to verify the address, slowing down at a turnoff, unsure of which fork to take, and maybe Lia had let her guard down for a moment to verify which way to go, squinting her eyes against the dying sunlight hitting them at just the right angle, but neither of them had seen the man approach the car until it was too late.

They were in an off-roading type vehicle, that day, a thick frame with big wheels. The doors had been taken off, by stylistic choice, and they had grinned a little at the feeling of the wind rushing past them in the summer heat, and they would never, ever drive one again, not after-

“Li-”

She hadn’t even managed to get out the younger woman’s full name in a belated, fear-choked warning, before Lia was moving, her scream of pain and surprise still rippling through the air, and Yeji could only watch, her foot pressing the pedal of the brake so hard that the tires screamed even though they had been nearly stopped already, and it was probably hurting the car, and Lia and the man fell to the ground-

And then the doctor moved with such a brutal precision that Yeji felt her blood run cold, and there was a sick sort of snapping noise, and the man slumped without more than a harsh cry that had been cut off, his neck at an unnatural angle.

A knife was in his hand, though as his grip went slack, that hit the dirt, too, stained in Lia’s blood. 

Yeji felt herself unfreeze, at a low moan of pain, because it wasn’t coming from the man- probably hoping to steal something, to hold them up for spare cash, how had she been so stupid -

She wrenched the keys out of the ignition and all but threw herself across, staggering out of those stupid fucking non-existent doors-

“Lia,” she breathed, almost choking as she dropped down, to where the younger woman was hunched over, breathing raggedly. She pulled her around to see her, a little too harshly, before running her hands over her, pushing her hair back, checking for injuries, her mind nothing but chaos. “Lia-yah, where- where did he get you, what did he-”

“Back of the calf,” Lia groaned through gritted teeth, her body convulsing without her own volition. “Fuck- fuck, that really fucking hurts-”

Yeji’s couldn’t help a gasp when she saw the wound.

It was no wonder Lia couldn’t stand. 

The knife had been red halfway to the hilt, and it seemed Lia knew better than to try and move, but Yeji could practically hear her anger, her frustration, a fleck of her fear, as blood began to spread over where the blonde’s hands were clasped to the wound, spilling over her fingers, applying pressure, but it wasn’t enough.

It was deep- too deep, Yeji realized, and her brain was steadily filling with white noise, her only thoughts devolving into please, please, not again -

“Unnie,” whispered Lia, pain cracking her voice, and that was what kick-started her into action, again. 

She wrestled Lia’s phone out of the passenger seat door, pressing Lia’s trembling forefinger to it to unlock it, and scrolling immediately to the caller list, clicking on the blank icon labeled SRJ.

Lia slumped a little against the tire of the car, hissing slightly as she shifted, still keeping a tight grip on the wound, and Yeji listened to the phone ringing and prayed to every god that did or didn’t exist-

Ryujin picked up.

“Lia-yah? What-”

“It’s me- Ryujin-ssi, it’s me,” Yeji said in a rush. “Lia’s hurt, she’s- she’s bleeding, please-”

“Hurt? Hurt how?”

“Unnie,” she heard Lia warn from next to her, a little more slurred, and she was appalled to see the slow yet steady spread of blood, a thick, glossy red against the dull brown dirt beneath them, smeared on Lia’s hands, and it wasn’t stopping-

“A cut on her leg- there was a guy- please, Ryujin-ah-”

“You’re at the drop off point?”

“Yes- no, where the road splits, we-”

“Stay there. Stay there, Yeji, don’t move, I’ll be there soon. Apply pressure,” was all Ryujin said before she hung up, and Yeji immediately tore off her own shirt and pressed it up against Lia’s wound, joining the shaking, bloodstained hands already clamped there.

The younger woman howled softly, jerking upwards in spite of herself, and Yeji pushed her back down, murmuring “I know, I know,” almost as Ryujin had to her on the couch after their brand had scalded her skin, or even in the clinic when she was stitching her up, finding that there was nothing else she could say.

She could do nothing else, too, but apply pressure , her mind spinning back to their injuries training at the Bureau, but it hadn’t covered this- a long, deep gash, no supplies, nothing to do but bleed-

“Lia-yah,” she said desperately, finally. “Lia-yah, tell me what I can do, tell me-”

Lia only shook her head, her face paler than usual, and she had slumped so far it was more like lying down than sitting,  her blonde hair pooling around them both like the blood that soaked into the ground beneath their mutually trembling hands.

Yeji paid no attention to the man, still lying prone like a puppet cut from its strings- he hadn’t made a sound, and probably never would again, with his neck still at that horrific angle, and Ryujin had told her not to move, had said to stay, so she stayed, her heart pounding in her throat.

The sound of an engine approaching made her look up, away from Lia for the first time, and the relief that flooded her at the sight of Ryujin’s red truck was what finally made the tears fall, though she brushed them away with her shoulder, not moving from the now blood-soaked remnants of her shirt pressed tightly to Lia’s leg.

“Move,” was the only thing Ryujin said to her, sprinting over after throwing her truck into park.

She had a small gray thing clutched in one hand that looked almost like a gun, if only a stubby, plastic-y one, but Yeji barely had time to take it in before she had dropped sideways out of the way, as Ryujin ripped her hands and her ruined shirt away from the wound.

“Lia-yah,” Ryujin said, and her voice shook for the first time in Yeji’s acquaintance with her. “How many?”

“Ten,” gasped Lia, her round cheeks stained with tears, and her eyelids dangerously low.

Ryujin bent over the wound, and pressed the tip of the small gray gun to the edge of Lia’s wound.

There was a sharp, pressurized noise, and Lia screamed . 

Yeji realized a beat later that the thing in Ryujin’s hands was a stitch gun, and surged forwards to help Ryujin keep Lia in place as she stapled the second stitch into place. Ryujin’s other hand focused on pressing Lia’s skin as tight around the wound as possible, leaving Yeji to keep her from writhing away from them.

A roaring sound grew in the distance, louder and louder, and Yeji didn’t even have to look to know it was Yuna, not from the way she heard a rough crash as she jumped from the motorbike without bothering to bring it around or park it, the panicked, wanton paces biting into the ground to reach them.

“Love,” Yuna said roughly, and her black hair was a mess, whipping into Yeji as the brunette was thrown out of the way a second time. 

“Love,” Yuna said again, her voice broken, reaching out to grasp Lia’s limp hand.

“I’m fine, I’ll be fine,” Lia whispered, fighting to open her eyes, to lift the corners of her lips, before she let out a cry of agony at another suture.

Yeji could still only watch, as she twitched, her blonde hair falling in front of her face, tear-stained and wracked with pain.

Something fractured, in Yuna’s expression. 

She dropped Lia’s hand, her hand flying to her waistband, and she barely made it a few paces from them before she unloaded the entire clip of her gun into the man who still lay, unmoving.

His body jerked with the impact, and Yeji had to look away, to focus her attention back on the bleeding younger woman before them, though some part of her felt a horrible, vindictive satisfaction in the sound of the impacts, even as her insides twisted at the memory of the gun.

Yuna was screaming something indistinguishable, and she must have reloaded, somehow, because she was still firing, still plugging the lifeless body with more lead, but all Yeji heard was Ryujin next to her, murmuring softly to Lia, as she pressed one stitch after another into her skin.

By the time Ryujin had finished, Lia was barely conscious, and Yuna had run out of bullets, though she still stood immobile between them and the dead body, her gun still out and trained on him.

It was Ryujin who broke the spell.

“We have to get her to the clinic. Come on, Hwang. Yuna-yah.”

Yeji followed, mutely, bending to help Ryujin lift Lia into the truck. Yuna jumped into the back seat with her, not sparing the crashed motorbike or the corpse another glance. Yeji, too, didn’t linger back at their car longer than was necessary to grab up the duffel bag from the backseat before throwing herself into the passenger seat of the truck.

Ryujin drove quickly, her movements sharp, but Yeji noted that her knuckles whitened with how hard she gripped the steering wheel.

The sun had set. The sky was that indefinable dark blue, something between day and night, the essence of dusk, and all Yeji could do was stare at it, her mind spinning, not daring to look to the backseat where Yuna cradled her wife in her lap.

Lia was completely unresponsive by the time they got her into the medical bay.

“Does she need a transfusion?” Yuna asked roughly, her eyes never leaving Lia’s pale, empty face, but her tone suggesting she would drag the nearest compatible person there and drain every drop from them herself if needed.

Ryujin shook her head. “Just fluids. She always fainted easily, Lia.”

Yuna flinched, subtly, when Ryujin slipped the IV into the vein of Lia’s arm, and Yeji remembered how she was afraid of needles, though their youngest member still didn’t look away,

Yeji still had no idea what to do, feeling entirely useless, her mind going entirely blank as Yuna turned to her, suddenly, and for a moment she thought Yuna would tear into her, too, pump her body full of bullets or bury one of the nearby scalpels in her, a desperate act of revenge for her lack of attention.

“I’m sor-”

Her words were cut off as Yuna surged across the bedspread to wrap her arms around her in a tight, breathless hug.

Yeji froze, unable to move even if she had wanted to in Yuna’s vice-like grip, and she was suddenly aware of the gentle tremor running through the black-haired, younger woman, feeling silent droplets of water hit the exposed skin of her chest and stomach.

The moment, and everything good or bad about it, ended as the door crashed open, and Chaeryeong looked as if she had been the one who had lost too much blood, her face pale and her eyes wild.

“Is she-”

“She’ll be alright,” Ryujin said effectively, as Yuna bit her lip, releasing Yeji at once, wiping her eyes determinedly.

Chaeryeong collapsed at the foot of Lia’s bed without another word, not bothering with a chair, her hair falling in an implacable curtain in front of her face, and Yuna reached down to clasp a shaking hand on her shoulder. Her other one ghosted across her side- her rib, Yeji realized, with a twist in her chest- as if desperate to feel some connection to the woman on the medical bed in front of her, even if it was only through the brand, the scarring-

“Come on,” Ryujin finally said to Yeji, quietly. “We should give them a moment.”

Yeji obeyed instantly, following Ryujin out of the medical bay, though they didn’t make it back to the truck before Ryujin turned to her, her voice echoing slightly in the empty hallway.

“Here. Wear this.” 

Yeji blinked stupidly as Ryujin’s black leather jacket was thrust into her hands, leaving the younger woman standing before her in just the cropped tank top she had been wearing underneath.

Ryujin usually wore a jacket, despite the oppressive heat of the summer days. Yeji rarely saw the shadow-haired woman without one, really, or else clothed in a loose-fitting t-shirt.

Now, she could only stand there dumbly, her face burning as she found herself unable to look away from the sight of Ryujin’s pale, muscular arms, the gentle slope of her shoulders and the curve of her waist and the muscles of her abdomen-

“Hwang.”

Her eyes flew up to meet those intense brown ones, and she flushed harder, sure she would find a smirk on that painful beautiful face.

Ryujin’s expression held no teasing smile, her eyes worn and dark as she stared back at Yeji, and Yeji was suddenly aware that she herself was still only in her black bra and jeans, her hands and arms bloody, her shirt a few miles away covered in blood stains and dirt on the side of the road, though she still couldn’t bring herself to move, Ryujin’s gaze freezing her and burning her all at once-

“Hwang. I said, wear it.”

She could breathe, suddenly, her arms moving of their own accord as she pulled the jacket on with numb fingers, and she looked down, almost afraid of what had been building in the air between them, afraid of what Ryujin’s gaze had coaxed to life inside her.

Ryujin had turned away, the sharp sounds of her boots against the floor echoing, and Yeji scrambled to follow. Neither of them spoke as Ryujin drove her back to the motel, though Yeji still felt much too warm and much too dizzy, her head spinning. 

She told herself it was from the adrenaline of the day, but she felt herself ache, hours later, alone in her room, and when it was only soothed by the lingering scent of Ryujin on the leather jacket, she knew she couldn’t keep lying, not to herself.

She felt her face burn, again, and she turned over, away from the thoughts, wincing at a flare of pain along her hip, burying her nose in the worn leather collar of Ryujin’s jacket, and she slept better than she had in weeks, despite the lingering screams that still haunted her unconsciousness.

The next week was a blur.

Mostly because Yeji’s days were full of Shin Ryujin, suddenly and inexplicably.

It was as if no time had passed since the branding, their invisible stalemate broken. Now, it was almost daily, how Ryujin requested her to drop her off or pick her up from wherever, on top of everything else. 

It always changed; sometimes it was even in the City, and Yeji had always had an inkling that Ryujin had connections there- surely, a trafficking syndicate did not prosper on the money of the outer districts alone- but she never asked, and Ryujin never offered. In fact, most of the drives were in near silence, thick with tension and sideways glances, Yeji feeling a thrill of fear and something much more dangerous whenever she caught Ryujin's eyes on her in her periphery or her rearview mirrors. 

And Yeji handled a gun again, finally, for her first run alone. 

It was just her and the weapon barely concealed on her hip, and it was routine, by now, the quick exchange, the gruff politeness, the Ryujin they called her, but she still rid herself of the gun as soon as possible. Maybe they wanted to let her work through whatever issues with the weapon she had on her own, but she felt eyes on her all the while, unsure if it was just surveillance or even Chaeryeong’s sniper rifle. She hadn't seen Chaeryeong since the clinic, though she knew that woulkd surely have to change soon, with how much of a role she was slowly beginning to occupy as one of them.

Putting the shiver of foreboding that sent down her spine aside, Yeji still thought she preferred runs with the others, if only for the conversation and a bite to eat after, even though it had felt like some kind of triumph, when she had finished her first run solo, handing the gun back to Yuna and receiving an appreciative nod in return.

Lia, for her part, healed quickly, despite the initial scare. Ryujin was right- she had fainted easily- but Yeji still couldn't erase the image of her, pale and unresponsive on the medical bay. The blonde woman still had a slight limp, but under Yuna’s borderline-terrifying attentions, she did nothing too straining, which Yeji tried to make sure of, too. 

She found her mind dwelling, almost absently, on the wonder of how someone had managed to catch Lia- mercurial, sharp-eyed Lia- with her guard down. It was all the more wonder, too, that Lia had let her guard down around Yeji . If only for a moment, even if it was instantly rectified, still…

Yeji knew she shouldn’t feel guilty, but part of her did; for being inattentive, for letting her guard down, too.

She thought of what Jihyo might have to say- then winced, and pushed it back down. She had texted the Bureau, finally: a short I’m sorry, I’m fine, busy, will respond later.

It was pathetic, made even more worse by the way that she had barely glanced over their messages. Yeji didn’t want to read them. Didn’t want to hear what her old friends and coworkers thought, whether or not they blamed her, or whatever it was they had to say. 

She also didn't want to think about how, upon reflection, her scatterbrained, terrified, split-second decision to call Ryujin, on the side of the road with Lia bleeding beside her, had effectively thrown away an opportunity. An opportunity to yes, call Ryujin there, but have the Bureau members waiting for her, have her tied irrefutably to assisting the trafficking of illicit substances, with more than enough evidence in the car and on Lia's phone, coupled with Yeji's testimony, to provide warrants and government permission for an extensive investigation on a finally solid basis of proof-

Yeji didn't want to think of what she could have done. She didn't want to think of what it might have meant, for the thought to never have crossed her mind, an opportunity that Dahyun would surely have called golden hidden from her by the shades of red in Lia's blood, drained away, by now. 

Yeji wanted to think only of the inexplicable, simple complexity of Ryujin .

And so she did, for a while. 

Meanwhile, somewhere in the North Quadrant of the City, Im Nayeon couldn’t breathe.

“Nayeon-”

Her eyes flew open, her heart jolting as she let out a gasp that shattered whatever calm the night still held, and for a moment, she felt like she was still there, in that metal warehouse that smelled like blood and sweat and fear, and the person looking at her was Hwang Yeji, her eyes stripped bare, staring at her down the barrel of the gun-

“Nayeonnie, it’s just me.”

Nayeon blinked, and it was Jeongyeon.

Her Jeongyeon.

“Jeongyeonnie-”

Her voice hitched on a sob, as she fell forwards, twisting the sheets a little but beyond caring, into Jeongyeon’s waiting, worried embrace.

“It’s okay, baby, just breathe for me, okay?”

That was all Yoo Jeongyeon, Bureau employee, easy under pressure and head of the Crisis Management sector, which was a good thing, Nayeon supposed, because she was starting to feel more and more like a crisis herself, these days, not that she’d ever want Jeongyeon to have to deal with the burden of that.

“It’s just- the nightmares,” she tried to explain, her words stumbling and her pitch arrhythmic. “They won’t- stop, and it’s so- so stupid, I’m sorry, I can’t-”

“Nayeonnie.”

She stopped stuttering her way through speech.

“Take a breath, okay?”

Nayeon did. The first one was hard, but the second one was easier.

“Just like that. A few more, alright, baby?”

She did as she was told, blindly, and she felt her grip on Jeongyeon’s shoulder relax, little by little, until her heart had stopped racing out of control and her mind had stopped twisting her room- their room- into something sinister in the shadows.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

Jeongyeon’s voice was gentle, but Nayeon flinched, a little, almost imperceptibly.

“I- sorry, I-”

“You don’t have to. If you do- like, if you need to, I’m here, but just take your time, okay? I’m not going anywhere.”

Nayeon felt herself exhale, her muscles slacken, burying her face a little further in the crook of Jeongyeon’s neck. She always felt safest there- safest with Jeongyeon, always with Jeongyeon, who had come home after work a few weeks ago to find her a whimpering, hyperventilating mess on the floor, bruised and bloodied in the aftermath that was just then truly hitting her.

Jeongyeon had known, at once, of course. She had taken her to the station, right to the medical wing, before Dahyun and Jihyo had grilled her so thoroughly that Jeongyeon had to step in a few times.

Nayeon understood. She was a lead, after all, a witness, and as cool as she had tried to keep it in the warehouse, for Yeji’s benefit and her own sanity, as solid and unfeeling as she had tried to force herself to be-

“I’m so scared, Jeongyeonnie,” she whispered, fractured and quiet, into the night air. It kept her secret, as it always did, in the darkness.

Because fear was the first killer, as the Bureau always said, but Nayeon thought of it more like fear was a luxury she couldn’t afford. You had to be tough, had to be sure of yourself, in their world, even though she might have had an easier life than most. She still had a parent, just one, her father working in foreign relations, a decaying, barely-preserved branch of the government that mostly existed to maintain the scraps of trade still existed with whatever the quiet, exhausted island of Japan had become, broken down by the world as they were just the same. 

Politics- that was how she and Jeongyeon had met, and it was the only good thing to come of politics, in her opinion.

And soon after, she had met Sana and Momo, too, and by extension Yeji, and Nayeon had always been strong, entrepreneurial, and unafraid, and she had recognized that spark in Yeji’s eyes, too, but now- 

Now that spark seemed to have been lit on fire, seemed to be burning, everything else burning along with it-

“Scared of what?”

Jeongyeon’s voice pulled her gently back into the present. Jeongyeon always had a beautiful voice- she sang, sometimes, in the shower, and sometimes Nayeon would try and harmonize, and they would laugh whenever they fucked it up, too sharp or too flat or just plain out of tune and the shards of happiness that clung to those memories gave her the strength to speak.

“Of her.”

“Shin Ryujin?”

Nayeon could say yes. She would have, if it were anyone else- it was true, in part, the memory of those cold eyes and that impossible aura, the ruthless, easy command of power, and Shin Ryujin’s crew had been just as terrifying as she was, especially the one with the dagger and the deranged, chilling smile still haunting her nightmares just as much, but-

But this was Jeongyeon . 

She could speak the truth, to Jeongyeon, if to no one else, and when she whispered out the admission, she tried to bury it in Jeongyeon’s skin, stifling her words, out of fear of both them and what they meant.

“No. Yeji-yah.”

Jeongyeon’s grip on her tightened, and she knew what her lover was about to say, in that calm, reassuring voice- that she was safe now, and that she wasn’t a bad person for thinking or feeling this way, but that Yeji was on an assignment, and she had to, and Nayeon knew all of it already, but it would still make her feel better, and she might even drift back into an uneasy sleep, eventually.

Still. 

Nayeon couldn’t help the tension that never left her body, the prickle at the back of her neck, the fear that had so thoroughly managed to sink its claws into her, and it hadn’t killed her yet, but she thought living with it might.

Nayeon thought she had seen it on Jihyo’s and Dahyun’s faces, too. On Sana’s and Momo’s, because she couldn’t not tell them, even though that had broken about a hundred different steps of established, Bureau-approved protocol, and because it would take a while to grasp, the thing that Jeongyeon was surely wrestling with, now, the thing that Nayeon had realized as soon as she had come face to face with the end of that gun, and Hwang Yeji behind the trigger.

Oh. 

Things will never really be the same, after this, will they?

Chapter Text

Compartmentalization wasn’t a discrete process.

Yeji found herself dwelling on the Bureau at times- usually at night, when it was safest, when she couldn’t keep it down any longer. It even began to bleed into her dreams, the nightmares often wearing Nayeon’s face- or it would be one of the others, and she would always pull the trigger, except this time, it wouldn’t be empty, and sometimes it was Yeju’s blood-soaked body she saw, right before she woke up in a cold sweat.

On one such fitful night, she found herself scrolling, bleary-eyed and desperate, through the Bureau messages. There were over a dozen worried texts from Tzuyu, many missed calls, and even a long, harshly worded memo from Jihyo, but she still couldn’t reply to any of them.

Not yet , Yeji told herself, willing her heartbeat to steady.

Not yet.

Surely they would understand that she needed time, after what happened. 

Time, too, to make sure Shin Ryujin and her crew trusted her, fully, time to take in all of what they had to offer, time to find more opportunities, because she told herself firmly that the missed shot with Lia was not really an opening at all. Lia might have died before the Bureau could sort her out, without Ryujin’s aid, and that wouldn’t have been any use to them at all, that wouldn’t-

She rolled over, away from the thoughts that were threatening to make her brain split open, whispering things about how she hadn’t even thought of any of that, how she had panicked, again, again-

Yeji usually only found rest when she caved, pulling Ryujin’s jacket into her and trying to pretend that some of the scent wasn’t starting to fade. Sometimes, if she was desperate enough, she pressed down on the bandages at her hip, the brand that was still healing, and somehow the jolt of pain would settle her, would clear her mind.

The days where she could drown herself in Ryujin were her saving grace, really. 

She might have lost it if the others didn’t also start to take up her evenings as well as her days, slowly but surely, with dinners out or last-minute calls to the clinic or if one of Ryujin’s meetings ran late. She drank it all in, greedily, allowing herself to fill in their empty spaces, to become a smooth cog in the greater machine of Korea’s most elusive trafficking syndicate, and even when things got a little violent- when Yuna had to threaten an unwilling customer, when she walked in on Lia in the middle of ‘surgery’ by accident- she barely flinched, now.

The only exception was Lee Chaeryeong. 

The younger, sharp-eyed woman never joined them out, and she could tell that the others sometimes missed her, or at least worried for her, their eyes flitting across the horizon as if hoping she would appear, their words tense whenever she neared the conversation. 

Yeji knew that spending all this time with the others was probably making it worse, dividing them further, but she couldn’t bring it in herself to care. Any animosity or bitterness she might have felt towards to others, in the weeks after the warehouse attached itself firmly to Chaeryeong, and she was content to let it stay that way, let them stay apart.

Well. 

Maybe not content- she wished the others would have a better peace of mind, she wished that things didn’t have to be so damn complicated between them all, so she helped the only way she knew how- by being there, supporting their efforts and entertaining their whims, and watching the time tick by.

Shin Yuna kicked open Yeji’s door on one particular evening, and she stood up from where she sat folding her laundry, her heart in her throat, but the black-haired woman only laughed at her expression, pushing her bangs out of her eyes.

“Get ready, we’re going clubbing.”

“Where?” Yeji asked, knowing better than to ask why, already having put down her half-folded clothes, walking over to her shabby closet. “ Guess Who , again?”

Clubbing.  

It was much more informal than anything they had done before, but that was good, right? The ease of alcohol, a way for people- for friends, maybe- to relax. Yeji had gone clubbing before, below ground places that were open secrets in the City, but that made her think of Sana and Momo, and luckily Yuna replied quickly.

“Nope,” Yuna said casually, pulling a stray thread from her sleeve. She was already dressed for the evening, in a black, high-collared dress, silver jewelry, and new, dagger-like black nails. Yeji was almost surprised she could still type on her phone, flipping it sideways as she always did when she was multitasking with a few different tabs at once. “It’s a club near the City, actually. They get a lot of clients from there. It’s expensive, usually, but we get in free, of course.”

The use and emphasis of the word clients told all Yeji she needed to know.

She swallowed.

So. Shin Ryujin had ties to the sex work industry, too.

Not that it was surprising that someone who so unquestioningly controlled dealings between the outer districts and the City would, but with business beyond meetings, it seemed, Ryujin was nothing if not a delegator, keeping all the acts in her name but only involving herself personally when something was amiss…

Yeji wondered what could go amiss in a sex club. She felt sick, suddenly, and turned away from Yuna, burying her face in the closet.

She itched to message Jihyo, for the first time in a long while, to tell them that it went deeper than drugs or organs or whatever the fuck else the smuggling syndicate dealt with. She should have known sex work was in the cards since their very first meeting at Guess Who , she should have known it wasn’t all just strong, high-quality alcohol or pills that they were trafficking-

“She’s not a client, herself.”

“What?” Yeji said, breaking out of her thoughts and she looked back at Yuna, pulling out a potential outfit. It was stylish, though still a little dull for a club, and Yuna snorted disparagingly when she laid eyes on it.

“Ryujin-ah. She’s not a client, she just finances the place, but she never partakes herself. You know, I thought you were jealous for a moment there, but if you’re going to dress like you’re going to a City speakeasy-”

“I don’t exactly have anything for the occasion,” Yeji said, a little louder than she meant to at Yuna’s playful insinuation, which she determinedly ignored, turning back to her closet. “Except that dress I wore to Guess Who , but I don’t want to rewear it.”

“Shame, it did wonders for you,” Yuna said, giving her a quick once over. 

She seemed to think, for a moment.

Then she got up, crossing to the door.

“Come on.”

“What- but I’m not ready yet, I-”

“You’re getting ready at our place,” Yuna said, pulling the door open and leaving the motel without a backwards glance, but as steady as her voice was, there was a slight hint of nervousness, there.

Yeji blinked, wondering if she had imagined it, before hurrying to follow.

Our place?

Yuna and Lia’s house was not what she had expected.

It was nondescript, which was perhaps the point, Yeji realized, in that she could barely distinguish it from the many other outer district structures she had passed already. It was only a few miles from Ryujin’s. She knew that the further you went from the City, the more heterogeneous the landscape became, skeletons of old cities cropping up along the main roads, the remnants of train tracks littering the landscape, but she couldn’t blame a trafficking syndicate for wanting to live a little closer to the wall, where the buildings bled together, dense and impenetrable-

“Are you going to stare, or are you going to come inside?”

Yuna didn’t seem to wait for her to answer, and she was already out and halfway across the front walk when Yeji unfroze, scrambling after her.

“Sorry, I just-”

“It’s not as nice as the City ones, I know,” Yuna cut her off, jamming her key in the door with a little too much force, and Yeji forced herself to breathe, as they walked inside, to correct the small offense, because Yuna seemed tenser, more sensitive, suddenly.

“It’s not that. It’s just very- very you two, I think. It suits you and Lia well. It’s practical, like Ryujin-ssi’s.”

Something softened slightly in Yuna’s face.

“Yeah, well. Lia likes practical. Besides, anything too flashy is begging for trouble.”

This, Yeji could understand only too well. 

Not only because Shin Ryujin’s gang would never beg, or because they themselves were usually the trouble, but it made something else about their world fall into place. Like before, she had noticed they had never worried about price tags, but nor had they seemed overly concerned with consumption, or with wearing their wealth on their sleeves. 

Yuna had her motorbike- a new one in the driveway, Yeji noticed- and a few shiny things, but again, nothing flashy. She had her equipment, as did Lia, and they never seemed to be wanting.

Yeji had been wondering about it, too, the wads of money stashed in her closet growing thicker and thicker. Money meant not worrying, meant eating well and sleeping easy- in her life before, it might have meant paints for Chaeyoung, good coffee for Tzuyu, not just the instant shit, and taking Sana and Momo out for high-quality grilled meat, but she doubted she would have gone overboard, honestly.

And now, beyond these things, she couldn’t picture much. 

Money wouldn’t give her the peace it might have brought her before. Money wouldn’t make her old friends trust her again. Money wouldn’t bring Yeju back.

The casual power of being able to buy, to get anything and everything that strikes your fancy, would be overwhelming to pretty much anyone- anyone who grew up in the dirt would seize the first chance they got to buy a diamond and show it off, surely. 

Not Ryujin’s crew, it seemed; they had enough, even some extra, and they chased after more, of course, but never to the point of impracticality, of drawing attention. Perhaps that was part of the reason why they had managed to thrive for so long. Maybe Yeji was like that, too. She wondered if they had noticed that before she had.

“Where does Chaeryeong-ssi live?”

The question was past her lips before her tongue could pin it back down, and Yuna’s eyes were back on her again, seemingly assessing her for something.

“Why do you ask?”

Yeji looked around a little, nervously, trying to think of why exactly she had asked.

“I thought you all lived together. I mean- obviously not Ryujin-ssi, but-”

“It drives her crazy, your insistence on honorifics,” Yuna commented dryly, still seemingly a little on edge, and Yeji clung to this change in conversation, kicking herself for unsettling the younger woman more than she had already by being in her house.

“I know,” she said, trying for humor, and it seemed it worked, and Yuna snorted, walking over to check the fridge for something or another.

“Chaeryeong stays at the warehouse, usually. Sometimes she comes here, or to Ryujinnie’s. She used to live with Chaeyeon unnie, before everything.”

Yeji couldn’t think of how to respond to that, except:

“I’m sorry.”

It didn’t seem like enough, somehow.

Yuna straightened up, her eyes finding her again, and something in her gaze seemed to say me, too, but then she was shutting the fridge door, smiling again, waving away Yeji’s apology and the slight stickiness of the moment, and leading her past the cozy main room, most of it taken up with a massive desk and computer station that screamed Shin Yuna, technological prodigy, halting finally in the bathroom.

“Ready for a makeover, unnie?”

Yeji wondered, as Yuna brought out outfit after outfit from her bedroom for her to try, whether this was something she should let the Bureau know of. The flashing lights of Yuna’s laptops and desktops and whatever else kept catching her eye, but surely, she thought, as she watched Yuna stop by the fridge, bringing out a few strawberries for them to snack on as they got ready (fresh, high-quality fruit was such an expensive luxury that Yeji couldn’t help eating more than might have been polite, but Yuna just giggled, clearly entertained)- surely this wasn’t worth the Bureau’s time, even if she had been ready to contact them again.

This was a home.

She realized that truth, with how unexpectedly awkward she felt there, and especially when Lia got back from the clinic, throwing her keys on the table and collapsing onto the couch.

She was supposed to be taking it easy- Ryujin’s orders, though Yeji doubted Lia ever took it easy.

“Long day?” Yuna sympathized, shoving what looked like yet another dress in Yeji’s direction. She seemed to enjoy picking apart Yeji’s appearance, insisting on which fashions would suit her, and she seemed more her age, suddenly, her gun left hanging by the door in its holster harness, as she touched up her own makeup and unloaded what seemed to be half her closet into Yeji’s arms.

“Nearly got pulled over on the way home,” Lia commented, her voice strained, and Yuna whirled towards her at once, her eyes freezing over, her tone deadly as she spoke, any sparkle turned to ice.

“What? Who-”

“It was nothing. They recognized me, eventually, of course, so there was no issue, I just-”

Darkness in the outer districts was a tricky thing, Yeji knew. Shin Ryujin’s gang surely didn’t suffer any fools, petty thieves and the like knowing well enough to stay out of their way, but she also knew that young, jaded, desperate people would challenge even the biggest fish in the pond, and Lia’s leg still wasn’t healed-

“Chaeryeong unnie didn’t-”

“No,” Lia said, still sounding tired. “She usually keeps an eye out,” she continued, and Yeji realized it was for her benefit. “She tries to be discreet about it, but she usually has our back, if she knows we’re, like, out late, going somewhere out of the way, or meeting a new contact. She’s just been- difficult, lately.”

Yeji couldn’t help thinking, with a swirl of guilt, that it was probably her fault, whatever Chaeryeong was occupying herself with, either trying to find more excuses to get Yeji killed, or taking out whatever the fuck her problem was on someone else. She thought back, too, to the prickle at the back of her neck she felt at times, especially on runs alone.

Yuna pressed the point, though.

“I know, but- maybe you should ask her to-”

“I can take care of myself, Yuna-yah.” 

Even though Lia’s voice was still calm, Yuna’s eyes widened a little, and she looked unguarded, for a fleeting moment, helpless and angry, not at Lia, maybe at the world, and without thinking, Yeji found herself stepping in.

“I’m sorry.”

They both looked at her, but she continued, quickly, keeping her eyes on a spare strawberry carefully, allowing them to scrutinize her openly.

“You wouldn’t have to work as long as you do if I had been staying to help you clean up at the clinic. Ryujin- Ryujin-ssi thinks I should be more involved, so I’ll start coming by in the evenings. I can drive you home, too, because I’ll- I’ll be there anyway.”

Ryujin, of course, had said nothing of the sort, and even Yeji winced at her own transparency, but Yuna just let out a surprised burst of laughter, and, when Yeji dared to look up at the sound, she found a slow smile spreading across Lia’s face.

It wasn’t as bright as usual. It was less like a blinding, disorienting ray of sunlight, and more like the soft, a refined kind of warmth. It made her eyes disappear into crescents.

“If Ryujinnie thinks it best,” the blonde answered, softer than usual.

There might have been something happening, there, but then Yuna pulled Yeji into the bathroom, still giggling and shaking her head, and the slightly terrifying process of getting styled began all over again.

It didn’t take too long, though, not with Lia flitting in and out, offering opinions and getting ready herself, setting her hair in waves and clipping Yuna’s necklace into place with precise, steady hands. After only an hour, Yeji had to admit that Yuna might be a skilled hand with a gun or a digital framework, but in another life, she might have found an interest in fashion.

She was in black, of course, but tonight her dress had a silver shimmer to it, and she looked almost dangerous, the eyeliner Yuna had taken almost ten full minutes doing coming to sharp, impeccable points, her lipstick darker than wine. 

She looked like herself. But she also looked like one of them.

“Brilliant,” Lia proclaimed, as she put on a pair of earrings.

“I know I am,” Yuna replied, a little too smugly, turning back to Yeji when Lia rolled her eyes at her good-naturedly. “I think I might know a way to liven you up a little, though. Get you ready for the party.”

Yeji tilted her head at her, though inside, her heart slammed against her chest.

That sounded suspiciously like something someone would say before offering some equally suspicious-looking powder or brightly colored pill, though despite their line of work, the others seemed not to be into drugs, hard or otherwise. 

Good thing, since they hardly needed it, but still. 

Yuna opened a drawer by the sink, and pulled out- not a pill bottle, but a small pink canister.

“Absolutely not,” Yeji said, recognizing the brand. Weeks ago, she would have been petrified to deny Yuna anything, but she shook her head vehemently now at Yuna’s mischievous smile. 

“Just a little bit, unnie! It’s temporary, and-”

“Nope. I’ve been a brunette my whole life, and I’m not changing that now, thank you.”

Vaguely, she was aware that she should probably think more carefully before revealing things about her ‘whole life’, but Yuna’s words drove that from her mind.

“I promise it’ll look good! I mean, of course, I could just call Ryujin-ah up to make you, but I thought it would be a nice surprise for her.”

Yeji’s eyes narrowed, in spite of herself, even though the threat was obviously empty and meant as a sly tease, and Yuna faked a gasp of fear.

“Ah! You really almost look scary, when your eyes get all sharp like that. But come on, please? Trust me, unnie.”

Yeji sighed. It was a little too endearing, to see Yuna like this, her wide eyes sparkling, looking her age again for a moment.

“You’re not going to let it go, are you?”

Yuna grinned, victorious. “Nope.”

Yeji knew she would regret it, but somehow, she was smiling, too, Lia mirroring the expression from beside them both. 

“Fine, but if it doesn’t look good…”

She trailed off, both of them knowing she probably had no actual threat of her own to make, and let Yuna begin her work.

Half an hour later, Yeji regarded the pink streak now framing one side of her face in the mirror warily.

It made her look different. Sharper, a bit of an edge to her, bright and yet also a little mysterious, somehow, paired with the all-black outfit and dark lipstick. 

She hated the smug look on Yuna’s face, and she was loath to say it, but she knew the black-haired woman wouldn’t let her leave without hearing it.

“It looks good.”

Yuna squealed , a totally unfamiliar sound that made Yeji laugh, shocked into a gut response.

“I knew it, unnie! Ryujin’s going to fucking lose it .”

Yeji wondered, as she led the way across the small yard- Yuna taking Lia’s hand carefully to help her walk- when exactly she and Ryujin had become the group’s source of entertainment.

She found that she couldn’t hold onto any sort of resentment about it, though. She only felt glad to be smiling, at the way Lia led them pointedly past where Yuna’s new motorbike was parked to a sleek black car instead, and Yuna poked a tongue out at her in response, making her fight back a fond smile of her own, unsuccessfully. 

It felt good, this lightness between them all, but Yeji felt a rush of nervous butterflies in her stomach too that she attributed as nerves about going to an adult club, and nothing to do with seeing Ryujin there.

Nothing at all.

The club was bigger than any of Ryujin’s others that she had seen so far, a little ways down the side of the major road that connected the City and the outskirts, past a curve that hid it from view, and its neon lights glowed almost blindly against the night sky, though it had no name plastered on the outside.

There were approximately six bouncers, Yeji counted, adjusting her dress a little nervously, though there didn’t seem to be any visible signs of the trouble that might attract Shin Ryujin and her crew there. She could feel Lia’s eyes on her as she assessed the building.

“What?” she asked the blonde, who simply smiled up at her, her eyes crinkling again.

“Nothing, you’re just still so cute sometimes, Yeji unnie.”

“She means that if there was any real danger, we’d take care of you,” Yuna said, taking Lia’s hand again to help her out of the car. “So don’t worry, okay? Oh- before we go in,” she added quickly, almost as a second nature. “Can I see your phone for a second?”

Yeji handed it too her, after only a hint of hesitation, and was relieved as Yuna just pulled up the settings and synched it to hers, transferring what looked like four blank contacts.

“Here. I put our numbers in,” she said simply, handing it back. “In case you get lost, or something. See? Nothing to worry about, unnie.”

Lia gave her an amused look, but shook her head.

Yeji tried to do as she was told, tried not to worry, if only because of the promise of seeing their missing members inside the black doors of the club.

The club wasn’t hiding what it sold, as her first glance told her quite clearly.

The room was bathed in red light, shadows clinging to the corners. There was a stage in the dead center, set and framed with poles, chairs, and both men and women in various states of undress, moving to the low, pulsating beats of the music. 

Yeji couldn’t help but stare- she really hadn’t been somewhere like this before. The crowd wasn’t even what she had imagined it to be, full of seedy older men; like the dancers, there were men and women alike, their styles varying, sitting underneath the red lighting, the chairs and tables dripping with black tassels and edged in lace. There was even room around the stage for the audience to dance, too, and she saw many at it already, enjoying the music, waving to the people on display.

“See something you like?”

She turned to respond to Yuna, but found that the black-haired woman’s eyes were not on her. 

She followed their gaze, and promptly lost her breath for a moment.

Shin Ryujin’s hair looked darker in the club's low lighting, or perhaps she had dyed it a little different than before, nearly matching the black of her suit pants and tailored vest, tight over a loose, cuffed white dress shirt that showed off her muscular forearms. Her hands were covered by black gloves, and her own jewelry was a mess of silver and chains, the effect of it all almost matching Yeji’s look.

Hr eyes were darker than the shadows of the club, piercing even as she drew nearer.

Yeji could hear Yuna and Lia giggling beside her, but at the moment, she barely cared, not even blinking if it meant getting to look at the woman in front of her for just a moment longer, trying to commit every stitch of her to memory.

“Ryujin-ah.”

The moment was broken by Chaeryeong, whom Yeji hadn’t noticed beside their leader, and when Ryujin turned, Yeji actually heard herself let out a small, mournful exhale, mercifully drowned out by the sound of the music.

Chaeryeong, herself in a dress of scathing red, her hair up and her expression sharper than usual, led Ryujin away, and in the heat and the daze and the atmosphere of the club, the whiplash of Shin Ryujin in stylized formal wear, Yeji forgot to feel anything at the sight of her, in favor of watching Ryujin as she walked away.

Besides Ryujin’s outfit and its effect on her, Yeji found no other problems that night, much to her confusion. 

She had expected something to be amiss, something to go wrong, for them to pull her into a side room where someone would be beaten or trafficked or whatever else, but the others gave her nothing.

Ryujin was out of sight, usually, Chaeryeong existed in the shadows by the bar, only ever at the periphery of her vision, and Lia and Yuna seemed content to watch the dancers, flirt with the waitresses, and generally enjoy themselves.

It was with relief, then, that Yeji found a balcony, even if it was also covered in red velvet. The fresh air of the night was worth it, after the hot, heady smell of the club, and she felt her mind clear, slowly.

“Hwang.”

She nearly jumped out of her skin, the night air suddenly acrid in her lungs, but a hand came up to stop her wrist as her hand jolted instinctively upwards to defend herself.

“It’s just me,” Ryujin said, her voice low and even, and Yeji blinked, feeling the absurd desire to laugh, because in what world was that a reassurance?

“I’m sorry,” she replied, quickly, a little dizzy, as Ryujin’s gloved hand released her. She hadn’t realized it had lingered, but now that it was gone, her skin seemed colder. She wished for Ryujin’s leather jacket- still at the motel, since the criminal still hadn’t asked for it back.

“You’re tense.”

It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t need to answer it, but she did, anyway.

“I don’t mean to be. I’ve just- I’ve never been to a-”

“Sex club?”

Ryujin’s half–grin showed teeth, and Yeji looked away.

Something was burning inside her. She didn’t know what it was, but Ryujin seemed to sense it, too, though she interpreted it differently than she might have, her eyes on the pink streak in Yeji’s hair.

“I didn’t mean- it’s just business, not anything personal.”

Yeji quirked an eyebrow, in spite of herself, and somehow, it seemed that Ryujin felt compelled to continue.

“Really. I don’t- it’s not like I spend a lot of time here, it’s not a big venture of ours-”

“Then why do it?” Yeji said, genuinely taken aback, turning back to look at her. She had thought Ryujin, with her seemingly unquenchable desire to take over nearly every niche in the market, was driven to be competitive in every area, even if she and her gang didn’t seem to spend their earnings lavishly.

“You wouldn’t understand.”

That stung, and Yeji squared her shoulders. She was dimly aware of the fact that she shouldn’t be picking a fight, but she still felt oddly on edge, and she needed to know, for some reason.

“Try me.”

Ryujin let out a surprised chuckle. For a moment, Yeji thought she would just walk off, go back inside to watch the dancers or find a drink, but she spoke, instead, her tone still even, as if every word was chosen with consideration.

“It’s going to exist. Things like this are always going to exist, no matter how much people want to stigmatize them, stamp them out- or burn them to the ground, like that bar of yours. If it’s going to exist, someone has to run it, and it can either be someone who exploits them, or someone like us. So, why not us?”

Why not us?

“Why not you,” Yeji repeated slowly. “And why not get medicine to those who need it, too?”

Ryujin said nothing, though her jaw tightened. 

“Do you really think that you don’t exploit them?” she asked, trying to keep her tone light, to steer away from the danger, though she couldn’t help the question.

Ryujin snorted, straightening up and pushing away from the balcony, not bothering to straighten her vest. 

“None of them are underage; they get paid, they get tested regularly, and we don’t let problematic clients in, no matter how much money they have. We don’t buy or sell. It’s just a job, if they want it. Besides,” she added easily. “Everyone exploits everyone else, Hwang.”

A bit of a jaded, generalized statement, Yeji thought, but true, nonetheless. And there it was again- the endless, mercurial gray area that was Shin Ryujin.

“Aren’t you going to ask why we’re here?” Ryujin asked her, as they walked back down the stairs. 

Below them, she could see Yuna and Lia dancing, a ridiculous attempt at a waltz to the club’s heavy beats, and it made her smile, just a little bit. 

She couldn’t see Chaeryeong at first, finally spotting her still in the shadows beside the bar, her eyes cutting into them, playing with a blood-red butterfly knife almost absent-mindedly, the bartender beside her looking as if he would rather be anywhere else. Yeji looked away.

“At first, I thought there would be something wrong,” Yeji admitted slowly. “Like usual.”

Ryujin laughed, low and short. “No trouble tonight,” she said. “We’re celebrating. It’s my birthday.”

“Fuck,” Yeji said, before she could stop herself. “I didn’t-”

“I told the others not to tell you,” Ryujin said, her lips raising in a half smile as she led Yeji around the stage to the bar. “It was actually a while ago, we just didn’t-”

She paused, and Yeji sensed Chaeyeon near the conversation, and all the events of the past months, and was glad when Ryujin moved the topic forwards smoothly as they neared the bar.

“Things have been tense lately. I thought we could use an excuse for a proper drink, all together.”

Yeji couldn’t argue with that, so she sat, Ryujin taking a seat between her and Chaeryeong.

“I have to go kill something,” Chaeryeong said instantly, bluntly, before Yeji could even begin to worry or feel anything more than a flicker of disquiet and the beginnings of anger, she was gone.

Ryujin’s face changed a little at that, again, and Yeji tried to read her, the way she had been able to a bit better since the brand, since the clinic.

Worry . That was worry . And something like disappointment, too, an exhausted kind of ache to her expression.

Well. Nothing she could do about that, Yeji decided, keen to place Chaeryeong out of her mind, for now, along with all the things she was trying to keep a lid on.

They watched the dancers, and Yuna and Lia for a moment, and Yeji wondered idly who would die for keeping Shin Ryujin waiting for a drink, before she realized Ryujin was looking at her expectantly.

“What do you need?” she asked quickly, scanning her memory, unsure of what she had forgotten.

Ryujin smirked. “So eager,” she murmured, her voice low, and that coupled with her in a suit vest under red lighting made Yeji’s knees weak. “I just wanted you to make me a drink,” the dark-haired woman said, straightening up a little.

Yeji blinked.

“Me? But-”

Ryujin’s tone left no question. “You ran a bar, right? So make me a drink.”

Running a bar doesn’t make me a bartender, Yeji thought, a little offended if this was yet another test, but she got up regardless, walking around behind the bar. The bartenders made way for her easily, and she looked down, surveying her options.

“Anything in particular?” she asked Ryujin, trying to disguise her nerves. 

“Surprise me,” was the only response she received.

Alright, then.

She tried to remember what Ryujin had been drinking when they first met, but came up blank. Surely someone like Shin Ryujin preferred hard alcohol- but then, she didn’t seem to drink often, or at least not on the job.

Chaeyoung had taught her how to mix a whiskey sour, once, when Yeji had teasingly asked her if all the time spent with her blue-blooded girlfriend, Mina (who, funnily enough, had led Yeji’s defense training at the Bureau, though she tried to push the connection out of her mind) had taught her how to make anything fancier than highball. 

That would do, surely.

She opted for a simple glass with ice, shook up the drink, then strained it, clumsily, surveying her work critically.

It seemed a little too sunny for Shin Ryujin. She remade it with a pinch of activated charcoal, which made it a color close to the muted shadows of the club, forgoing the usual citrus garnish and only placing the customary maraschino cherry on top. She knew the charcoal would make it a little bitter, but she stopped there, reminding herself that anything more could just be butchering it further.

“Here,” she said finally, giving up and pushing it towards Ryujin, who picked it up gamely and took an easy sip. 

“A bit chalky,” was her only comment, and Yeji couldn’t suppress a snort.

“Everyone’s a critic,” she responded sarcastically, and was rewarded by that short, surprisingly low laugh. 

Yeji walked around to join her, taking her brighter, ungarnished reject drink with her. She took a sip, then winced- too sour, and too strong. She should have expected the brutal quality of liquor in the outer districts, even in lands so close to the City, but it still made her eyes water.

Ryujin looked amused. “Not a big drinker, then?”

“I can hold my alcohol. I just prefer something sweeter,” Yeji said, letting her gaze wander, her left side burning as she felt Ryujin still watching her.

She stiffened as the shadow-haired woman touched her shoulder, her eyes flying back to meet those calm, dark ones. 

Ryujin had finished her drink already, signaling for another (mercifully, not from Yeji this time), and was offering Yeji the maraschino cherry from between two black-gloved fingertips.

“You don’t like them?” Yeji asked, feeling a small pang of worry that she had missed the mark.

Ryujin shook her head. “They’re fine,” she murmured, almost reassuringly. “I just wanted to be polite, if you wanted something sweet.”

Yeji’s thought of you? polite? must have shown on her face, because Ryujin chuckled again, shrugging and retracting her fingers to pop the cherry fluidly into her mouth.

Her red lips stained darker with the juice of it, as it broke easily on her teeth.

Yeji’s face burned . 

“Yeji unnie!” 

Yuna collided into her, giggling. 

“Come dance!”

She allowed herself to be pulled away at Ryujin’s shallow nod, though she didn’t miss the way the shadow-haired woman’s jaw clenched again.

“Yuna-yah, I don’t think-”

“Dance,” Yuna insisted, her eyes gleaming. “She looked like she was going to kill me for taking you away- you’re right, Lia-yah, it was so funny.”

Lia laughed beside them, and Yeji slowly resigned herself to moving her body to the beat. She recognized the song- it had played at her and Nayeon’s bar once, maybe, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

She pushed the memory back, viciously, and lost herself in the dance.

Dancing came easily to her. She enjoyed letting the rhythm of it take over, her movements sharp, working herself up into a sweat before she knew it.

“Shit, Yeji-yah!” Yuna called over the music, dancing with Lia beside her. “I didn’t know you could really dance!”

She laughed, feeling a little freer than she had in ages.

It was hard to think that they were not her friends, really her friends, after everything, in this equalizing setting. Yeji hadn’t had friends her age before, not really, and her couldn’t help but grin in exhilaration at the loud pulse of the music, the way Lia tried to match her steps, laughing when she got her feet twisted or her leg failed her, one of Yuna’s capable hands always ready to catch her whenever she stumbled-

Her dangerously soft musings were interrupted by a low voice in her ear.

“Yeji.”

She froze, nearly tripping over her own feet herself as she spun around, her eyes widening as she found herself inches from Shin Ryujin.

The leader’s face was inscrutable, and devastatingly beautiful, especially from this close.

“Yuna-yah, you can tell Chaeryeong to kill that man in green at the bar. She was looking for someone to play with.”

Yeji did not resist Ryujin’s hand on her elbow, the feeling of the black leather glove soft on her skin, though even through it, she could feel the younger woman’s nails biting in as Ryujin steered her away from the dance floor and out the club’s black doors.

“What did he do?” she asked quietly. She hadn’t known Ryujin to kill without reason so far, as flimsy of a redeeming quality as that might have seemed.

“Look at you,” was all Ryujin said, gesturing for her to get into a car Yeji hadn’t known was hers. It was a metallic gray, the windows tinted dark, and she got in without any further questions.

They were quiet all the way back, though Yeji noticed that they had passed the turn off for her motel.

Ryujin didn’t speak as she turned into a side road, then a driveway, and though it was too dark now to make out what building it was, Yeji slowly realized as they got out and approached the familiar door that they were at Ryujin’s house.

“What-”

Her question was cut off as she was all but dragged across the threshold, and then Ryujin was slamming her fluidly against the wall, kicking the door shut with one booted foot.

The spike of Ryujin’s androgynous perfume burned her throat as the other woman pushed their bodies together, so close that her face was all Yeji could see, the rest of the room falling away easily, out of focus, out of sight and out of mind.

“Tell me you want this,” Ryujin whispered, her voice low, her lips a hair's breadth away from Yeji’s own, her one of her knees pushing Yeji’s legs apart.

It might have been an order- it surely sounded rough enough- but something about Ryujin’s eyes were stripped down, impossibly dark, as if Yeji could look hard enough and see the worn, frayed threads of Shin Ryujin’s self control, straining to break, finally.

“Yes,” was all she could manage, breathlessly, and instantly, Ryujin’s teeth were tearing at her neck before she could blink, a surprised gasp leaving her throat before she could stifle it, one of Ryujin’s hands already roughly pushing up her skirt to press up against her lace underwear.

She pulled back with a growl, and Yeji’s head spun, her neck and chest aching from the brief yet furious attack.

“Who were you trying to impress tonight, Hwang?” Ryujin said, and the tone with which she said Yeji’s name made the brunette whimper as the leader worked at her over her underwear, making tight, merciless circles, the lace cloth already soaked.

“I- I didn’t-” 

Yeji cut herself off with a cry as Ryujin bent back in to claim the other side of her neck, and she felt her knees open slightly, her back arching against the wall at Ryujin’s ministrations, the brand on her hip aching, suddenly, but it only added to the combinations of feelings.

“Nevermind,” Ryujin murmured in her ear, and her voice was all velvet and danger. “I’ll just fuck it out of you, then.”

Yeji whimpered again as Ryujin retracted her hand from under her skirt, dragging her into the bedroom where she shoved her roughly down onto the bed.

There was no careful, exacting instructions this time, none of that distance she had felt in their other times together. If she had ever wondered if it had really just been psychological, just Ryujin correctly reading the way to make her submit to her, in every sense of the word, she knew now she needn’t have worried, because Ryujin was touching her roughly, incessantly, almost desperately, like their weeks apart had been stripping her down, too, slowly but surely.

“On your back,” Ryujin commanded, even though she looked half gone herself, ripping off Yeji’s dress- literally, as Yeji heard fabric tear, though neither of them gave it any thought. “I want to look at you.”

She obeyed, spreading her legs and biting her lip as Ryujin looked down on her, the black underwear still on.

It matched with her bra. 

Yuna might have given her the clothes, but these- the undergarments- were all Yeji’s, and fine, maybe she had been hoping- tonight, just maybe-

She felt her face redden as Ryujin noticed, her eyes going almost black enough to match the lace, too. 

The other woman said nothing about it, however, just reached up to grab Yeji by the throat with one hand, her fingers pressing back down again, just against her entrance.

“Beg.”

Yeji let out a choked cry, her eyes tearing up as she felt the smooth, cold leather of the glove against her skin of her neck. 

Ryujin wasn’t choking her enough to actually hurt, although a twisted part of her ached for it- it was more to keep her in place as the dark-haired woman deftly worked her other glove off and pushed the lace aside to dip two fingers inside her. It was just barely enough for her to feel it, though it still made her head spin, as Ryujin’s eyes never left her own.

“Beg for me, Hwang. That’s an order.”

“Please,” she gasped, and she cursed herself for losing control so soon, but really, the weeks apart had been enough of a test of self-control, for both of them, and nothing compared to this, and fuck, nothing ever would-

“Please- fuck, Ryujin- Ryujin-ssi, I-”

“I said beg .” Ryujin’s voice was impossibly cold as she pressed herself all the way inside, down to the knuckle, and fuck , Yeji hadn’t realized just how wet she was until she felt it barely hurt, and the only thing left was burning pleasure, aching around Ryujin’s fingers. “Louder.”

“ Please , Ryujin-ah, please,” she cried, her eyes wet with unshed tears as she felt herself moving frantically against Ryujin’s touch, even her body spiraling out of control. “Please, I need you, please , I’m- I’m begging, I need you-”

Ryujin added a third finger, and she saw stars, pain sparking in the best way as she felt the cold touch of metal as the dangling pin on Ryujin’s vest pressed against the hot skin of her chest, the brand on her hip prickling as it brushed against the sheets.

The sight of Ryujin in her devastating outfit, on top of her, her infinite, unfathomable eyes trained on her every movement, was enough for her to clench instinctively around the dark-haired woman’s fingers, though she froze as Ryujin shook her head.

“Not yet, Hwang. Not until I say so.”

“Yes- please, I won’t,” Yeji whispered haltingly, dazedly, drunk on the feeling already, the words falling from her without a single thought. “ Please , anything, Ryujin, anything you say-”

Ryujin dipped down, her mouth flush against her ear, and Yeji let out a soft cry at the change in angle as her fingers pumped in and out of her, slick sounds filling the room. “I like the way my name sounds in your mouth, Yeji .”

Yeji moaned, clenching tighter, her head spinning, because if Ryujin was going to say that , she might actually come in spite of how badly she ached to follow Ryujin’s command.

“Not yet,” Ryujin murmured, unyielding as she squirmed beneath her. “I want you to be good for me, first. I want to know that you’re still mine.”

“Of course I’m- I’m still yours,” Yeji choked, one hand coming up to clutch Ryujin’s sleeve as she felt the leather of the glove caress her neck, squeezing harder, pinning her to the spot. “Was always yours, please, I’ll be good-”

“You’ll be good?” Ryujin growled in her ear, her tongue flicking at Yeji’s skin, causing a twisting feeling in her stomach that made her gasp for air. “You weren’t very good tonight, Yeji-yah. Tell me, who were you trying to impress, getting all dressed up like this, wearing these -” she snapped the edge of Yeji’s lace underwear with her thumb, and Yeji whimpered, her hips jerking up at the sensation.

“You,” whispered Yeji, the humiliation of her own honesty mingling with the desperation clawing at her with every one of Ryujin’s movements. “Just you, I promise, all for you, ask- ask Yuna, she-” 

It was getting harder to speak, though she wanted so badly to answer, to be good . 

“Ryujin, please , I can’t-”

“Mine,” Ryujin whispered roughly, before she bent back down and pressed her tongue right up to Yeji’s clit, curling her fingers upwards as she did.

Yeji screamed .

The noise took her by surprise- she had never been loud, really, in bed- but that thought left her along with all the others as Ryujin pumped her fingers in and up again, working her tongue carefully, torturously around to circle her clit.

“Fuck, you taste good,” she murmured, and the soft vibration of her words against Yeji’s wet, aching center made the brunette moan loudly again. “You taste so fucking good, Yeji-yah.”

The steady stream of mixed moans and curses were fucked out of her as Yeji fought desperately to last, to withstand the waves of promising, agonzing pleasure threatening to break loose with every stroke of Ryujin’s fingers or tongue, but-

“Please- I can’t,” she managed, unable to hold out any longer. “All yours, I can’t- I- harder, please- ”

Ryujin made a choked sound, something between a moan and a curse, and her fingers sped up, ruthless and unforgiving, and when she sucked, hard-

“ Fuck - Ryujin-ah, going to- please -”

“Come for me,” Ryujin murmured against her, her lips brushing her clit. “Be a good girl for me, my Yeji -”

She wasn’t sure if it was a name, or a curse, or just indecipherable noise that ripped its way out of her throat as everything inside her tightened, her thighs coming up to squeeze against the sides of Ryujin’s head between them as she was nearly lifted off the bed by the force of the rush of pleasure, Ryujin’s gloved hand still on her neck the only thing keeping her grounded.

“Ryujin-ah,” she whimpered softly, when the last dregs of the aftershocks had slipped away, and the younger woman ceased her movements, coming up slowly. She bit her lip as Ryujin slid her three fingers out of her, more gingerly than last time, but it still hurt, though it hurt more to be empty, strangely, and she missed the leader against her skin already.

Yeji still found herself aching for that insatiable comfort that only Ryujin could provide afterwards, as she always did, and felt the usual sting at the thought that it would be coming soon, the moment when Ryujin said it was time, carried her to the couch and left her there for the night.

The shadow-haired woman said nothing, though, and made no movement except to lie down beside her, her breathing as ragged as if she had been the one convulsing and crying out on the bed moments ago, her eyes a little hooded, still dark.

“Can you take another?” she asked, hoarsely, after a few minutes.

Yeji felt her brow furrow in confusion, but Ryujin’s gloved hand came out to touch her face, almost hesitantly, ghosting over her skin, trailing down to settle back on her neck, and she felt it stoke the embers inside her. She whimpered, Ryujin grinning at the way she arched her back in response to even the lightest of touches.

“Good. Fuck, I want to drown in you,” Ryujin murmured, moving to make her way down, and Yeji only had time to moan in reply before Ryujin’s mouth was back on her again, and then everything was a slow-burning heat, thick and syrupy, settling in her stomach until it finally broke, again and again until she was sure Ryujin hadn’t been exaggerating, because the dark-haired woman only let up when she was sobbing and shaking and completely undone.

“Good girl,” Ryujin whispered, finally, her eyes still impossibly dark and her breathing labored, her lips and chin visibly wet, stained even when she wiped at it, and Yeji shuddered dazedly at the praise. “Did so well for me, my Yeji-yah.”

It took Yeji a while to pull herself together. She was tempted just to give into the exhaustion, but eventually, she managed to wipe the tears away, taking in brittle breaths of air.

“Happy- happy birthday,” she said weakly, finally, her throat raw, and received a chuckle that made her feel like she was glowing.

She wished, not for the first time, that she could touch Ryujin, too, looking into those endless brown eyes, watching the way her chest rose and fell with her heavy breathing. Just for a moment- just once, she thought, she would like to see how she tasted on her tongue, or felt on her fingertips. She would like to hear how she sounded, as she fell apart, too.

But it would never be- of course it wouldn’t. 

Shin Ryujin fell apart for no one.

“You can stay here tonight.”

Ryujin’s voice was still rough, and she wasn’t looking at Yeji, staring determinedly up at the ceiling as if trying to memorize the gentle, thin cracks in it.

It wasn’t an order, but it still carried some kind of weight in it, and Yeji let that settle over her like a blanket.

She said nothing in response, but haphazardly reached for the sheets, her eyelids beginning to droop. Ryujin looked over, after a moment, and with another low, short laugh, helped her pull the covers over the both of them. They settled into place, far away enough not to be touching but still impossibly close.

Goodnight, Ryujin-ah, Yeji thought silently, unwilling to break the shell of peace she had been given, afraid Ryujin would change her mind at any moment, and would leave her again.

It was enough, for now. 

It was enough to have the soft sensation of the younger woman’s body heat next to her, to settle the cold ache and vulnerability that always came after Ryujin had fucked her, and all of it made her feel so overwhelmingly warm and at ease that she dropped off to sleep in minutes, unaware of the dark, careful eyes on her from the side, watching over her quietly as she slept, with a fledgling shadow of reluctant softness in them.

Other insomniacs, however, did not have that luxury.

In the very heart of the City:

Tzuyu poured herself another cup of coffee.

Dahyun and Jihyo ignored the clock in favor of the papers on their desk.

Mina watched Chaeyoung sketch buildings that looked like bones. 

Jeongyeon was trying to sing Nayeon to sleep, though it became a gentle duet, somewhere along the way.

Momo and Sana were pretending to have fallen asleep already so they had an excuse to hold one another. Because the two of them, curled up in Momo’s bed, had become a nightly thing, now.

And in a warehouse, miles away, Lee Chaeryeong watched the blood drain.

It was a beautiful thing. Red was her favorite color. It matched her dress, even.

She leaned forwards slightly to press her fingers to the pulse point of whoever it was. Some unlucky man, tonight, his ridiculous green shirt now a muted, wet kind of brown, melding nicely into the darkness, the shadows.

She kept her fingers there, until she could feel the heartbeat die, and told herself that it made her feel better.

It always did.

Chapter Text

“Yeju!”

Her sister laughed, running ahead of her up the slope. They had snuck out, together- the youth center never really cared much about who came and went, as there was barely enough infrastructure for all the orphans of the City as it was. 

Some might call it dangerous, venturing out alone. They called it freedom.

Besides, they weren’t alone. They had each other, always.

“Catch up, Yeji-yah!” Yeju called out behind her, her laughter as light and unburdened as Yeji had ever heard it as she chased her older sister across the green grass.

Grass was a luxury, in the City where everything was mostly shades of sleek steel gray and dirt brown and, occasionally, red. They had snuck into a park- a nice one, near the very heart of the City, flanked by some of the gated neighborhoods that housed the high-level government workers, and if they had been caught the consequences would have been dire, but they hadn’t been caught, so.

“Come on,” Yeju had insisted, in a hushed whisper as they ducked around the hallway patrollers of the youth center. “We haven’t been out in ages!”

In their world, rules were flexible things. Yeji learned that there were some rules that Yeju took seriously, that she thought everyone should follow, for the good of society.

But this?

Breaking out, just to breathe for a moment, to run wild together as children might once have been meant to do?

How could this be a crime?

And if Yeju did bend the rules at times, it was only for her younger sister, as she stopped at the crest of the deliriously green hilltop and allowed her to catch up, panting and grinning.

“Yeji-yah, Yeji-yah, look-”

And Yeji turned.

Smog, another shade of gray in the city, always lay around them, the thickest and most reliable blanket any orphan could have, but now, standing on the hillside with the City around them falling away, if Yeji looked up, if she squinted-

“A star?”

Her voice was all wonder, all child-like joy.

It was a planet, actually, but neither of them knew it, and it wouldn’t have mattered even if they had.

“For you,” Yeju declared, taking her hand and pulling her closer, smiling at the look on her face. “Happy birthday, little sister.”

For a moment, for one shining, star-lit moment, everything was perfect.

They were happy.

But then Yeju’s hand was pulling away, and Yeji cried out silently at it, staggering forwards, but her sister was gone, gone where she could not follow, run as she might, and the City’s personal brand of hellscape red was spilling over the green grass, choking it, watering it in some twisted way, Yeju’s blood staining the earth-

Yeji opened her eyes.

She never woke up screaming, after a nightmare.

(Was it a nightmare, if it always drew from memory?)

They had been getting worse, lately, though this one was the most disturbing in a while.

Although her body was tense and drenched in sweat, the numbers on her phone told her that it was too early to get up, that she should probably try and get some sleep-

She got up, anyway.

Yeji didn’t feel like doing anything, so she did some work. Nothing major. Yuna had been letting her do a bit of the accounting, lately, and though she knew all of her work was being checked, it was hardly difficult, entering numbers into boxes.

It might have been the holy grail, these scraps of information that she were allowed, if she were still in communication with the Bureau.

But nothing was spelled out, code words and pseudonyms frequent, and everything was encrypted, with probably a million different safety measures in place, and Yeji was tired, and she might have checked her phone for the time but she ignored the weight of the encrypted chat messages she knew awaited her in it, too, so for now, she just clicked and typed until the sun rose.

She might as well be useful to someone.

Digital work aside, Yeji and the two wives had gotten closer ever since she had visited their house. Yuna and Lia both had invited her to go out clubbing more, and she turned them down the first few times, finally compromising on going out for drinks, so that was a thing they did, now. Ryujin even joined them, at times, few and far between as they were, as she was typically called away to meetings or other kinds of trouble.

One time, on a particularly slow day when Lia was bust with surgeries back to back in the clinic, Yuna had even come over to the motel, to fix her makeup in the shitty full length mirror and surf the channels on the small tv for a bit before actually taking a nap, right there on her motel couch. 

Yeji hadn’t know what to do besides cook them both dinner, and Yuna ate appreciatively when she awoke, only teasing her a little for the slightly burnt chicken.

“Unnie, you’re such a bad cook.”

“Yah,” Yeji shot back, even as she smiled a little. She couldn’t help it- she had always been the youngest, with all of her friends back home, and had never had someone younger than her to care for.

She cared. A little bit. Of course she did. She could admit that, now, even if she was still unsure if the sentiment was reciprocated, truly.

“If you don’t like it, you don’t have to eat it, you know.”

“I’m just saying. Ryujinnie’s a shit chef, too, so you both are doomed.”

I know, something inside Yeji said, but she just shook her head in response, to both the sentiment and Yuna’s consistent teasing, her smile still in place as Yuna moved on to complain about some buyer causing problems, in a manner that suggested that he would very soon regret it. Somehow, it was conversational, not tense, and they talked about other things, too, the conversation bouncing from topic to topic.

“It’s getting late,” Yeji mentioned finally, and it was true- the sun had long since set outside the window. 

“Are you kicking me out?” Yuna joked, but Yeji shook her head, even as she heard the sarcasm.

“No, of course not. You can stay wherever you’d like. I doubt I could stop you, if I wanted to.”

Yuna’s youthful ego, so eager to rear its head, seemed to delight in her words, but the younger woman became all business again quickly.

“I’m kidding, Yeji unnie. I wanted to pick Lia up from the clinic today- poor thing, honestly- so I can drop you off at Ryujin’s on the way.”

Yeji heard, again, the light, teasing tone, but she didn’t dignify that one with an answer, her cheeks a light pink as she stood to put on her shoes.

“Thank you.”

It was strange, to have Yuna driving something other than her motorbike. The evening sky was a rich navy, and the lights swam before them, of passing cars and sparse buildings.

“I meant it,” Yeji said, almost without thinking, her nerves spiking a little as they pulled into the familiar driveway. “You can come by whenever, you know. Lia-yah, too- even Chaeryoung-ssi, though I think I need to sharpen my knives if she ever stops by. I doubt they’re up to her standard.”

“She’d probably hate them either way,” Yuna said, but her voice was unexpectedly soft. 

Yeji turned to look at her, but as she blinked, that confident, cocky, more than a little dangerous face was back on.

“Have a good night, unnie!”

Yuna even threw a wink her way. Yeji had enough courage, somehow, to flip her off as she drove away, hearing a cackle of laughter in response, and that made her keep grinning, even as she rang the doorbell.

Because though the pink hair dye had faded in a few days after their night at the club, some things stayed the same.

Having Ryujin, like this, was one of them; it was a constant thing, now, and perhaps the relief from their stagnant period after her brand made every meeting a little more heightened, because Yeji didn’t know how she had gone so long without it.

It was ironic, perhaps, the way that something that had been so obviously meant to break her down now was one of the few things keeping her together. The scraps of moments when Ryujin’s touch would be softer, just for a second, or her eyes, unreadable as ever, would pierce right down into her soul, or when her arms, strong and sure, always caught Yeji right as she fell.

The dark-haired woman still never kissed her, but nor did she force her to leave afterwards, and Yeji learned to take what was given to her without allowing herself to wish for more.

They all had their vices, and their absolutions. 

And Yeji had realized, somewhere along the way, that her nights with Ryujin weren’t something she was willing to give up. Not yet, at least.

It was a few days later, a few nights spent beside the most dangerous and comforting woman she had ever met, before things with their most wayward, unpredictable member came to a head.

Yeji almost wanted to stay in the liminal space- it was safer, at least, even though the others seemed a little more tense and worried with every night out Chaeryeong missed. Yeji still didn’t quite know where she stood with the other woman, but they had managed to exist in the same space at the club, if only for a few moments, and the world hadn’t fallen apart, and the time after hearing Ryujin’s story of Chaeyeon gave her the space to process it all…

Yeji couldn’t put her finger on what she felt for Chaeryeong, but it was starting to have a small center of pity to it, wrapped up in all that fear and horror and anger, and it only intensified when she accidentally walked in on Chaeryeong and Lia in the clinic.

In her defense, it was around the time that she was supposed to be picking up Lia anyway, and the blonde had told her to come right in, that she wasn’t in surgery (or perhaps, anti-surgery), so it was the last thing Yeji was expecting, to see Lia wrapping bandages around Chaeryeong’s shoulder, the front side of it bleeding heavily, if the red-soaked wipes beside them were any indication, and her black hair scattered in front of her face.

Some of it fell away as Chaeryeong’s head jerked up, upon Yeji’s arrival. Her eyes flashed, instantly, to something dangerous, and the brunette froze in her tracks.

“I’m-”

Before Yeji could even finish saying sorry , Chaeryeong had already wrenched herself away from Lia almost violently, had pushed past them both, and the door was slamming shut behind her, and Yeji was left stammering, utterly taken aback.

“What-”

“Sorry about that,” Lia said evenly, though she didn’t look very sorry, and the way she calmly collected and threw out the tissues made Yeji think that she had been expecting this. She could have laughed, if she wasn’t still in shock. “Chaeryeong-ah just came back from a job, that’s all.”

“A-”

A job. 

That meant- well, obviously someone had died, but who, and also how, because Chaeryeong was always spotless at the warehouse, always in white and making everything else turn red, so-

“Chaeryeong is our best hand, for discrete, long distance kills,” Lia explained, removing her gloves and washing her hands as she spoke, and that confirmed it, the sniping job, but Yeji wondered why she was explaining, and what Yeji was supposed to do with this information. “It always bothers her shoulder, though. Like how it hurts your hip, to walk too fast.”

Yeji just stared at her- it was true, the fabric of her clothing rubbing against the raw brand was a pain, though it was almost healed by now, and she thought that she had been hiding it pretty well, but-

But it didn’t make sense, why Chaeryeong’s shoulder would be bleeding there, because a sniper’s gun would press into that spot, but surely not hard enough to draw blood-

Yeji could almost feel the shock of it rippling through her, when she put two and two together, with a slow, dawning sense of horror.

Chaeryeong got hers on her shoulder-

Yeji didn’t even register that she had turned to rush out, hearing a small, almost relieved chuckle from Lia through the door as it swung shut behind her, and then she was outside.

Chaeryeong hadn’t left yet, fortunately, or maybe unfortunately. She was leaning up against what must have been her car, one hand on the metal to steady herself, the other clumsily winding bandages around her wounded shoulder again.

Yeji felt a prickle of relief at that. Then she immediately realized what she was walking in on again, in her stupidity, when Chaeryeong shot her a look full of ice and glass and other killing things.

“Fuck. Off.”

It wasn’t like Chaeryeong to give warnings, and Yeji thought on any other occasion there would already be a throwing knife buried in the side of her head, but Chaeryeong’s hands were busy, not to mention shaking.

Just a little. Just enough to be noticeable.

And Yeji stepped closer, staring, like an idiot, a moth to a flame, because she had to know if her inkling had been right-

There, just visible as the bandages shifted, was a bloody, raw, angry-looking sister to the healing mark on her own hip.

She couldn’t suppress a gasp.

Because Ryujin had told her Chaeryeong had gotten it on her shoulder, but she had thought- the back of the shoulder, or something, surely not- not like this, not when it would be broken open again and again every time Chaeryeong steadied the sniper rifle up against her shoulder-

She felt razor-sharp eyes cutting into her and looked away, at once, her face burning.

Chaeryeong shot her own sister. 

Chaeryeong chose a brand where she knew it would hurt, every time she shot again. 

Every time-

Was it a punishment? A reminder? 

It felt like she was seeing Chaeryeong for the first time, in the asphalt lot by Lia’s clinic, the sun glinting off her hair, her face obscured by savage anger, and Yeji wondered how she hadn’t seen the shadow of what lay beyond it before.

Chaeryeong was hurting .

“Is there anything I can do?”

It came out softer than she had meant it to, and the black-haired woman clearly heard it, too, because her eyes hardened as if Yeji had spat at her.

“You can shut the fuck up, Hwang ,” Chaeryeong hissed, finally giving up on the bandages, and turning to wrench open the car door and throw herself inside.

Yeji wanted to call after her, for some reason. To help her tie up the bandages, to shout at her, to ask her a million questions, but she didn’t, and the tires of Chaeryeong’s car skidded against the pavement as she reversed out of the lot.

Lia only gave her an appraising look when she returned back inside, empty-handed.

“Still in one piece?”

Yeji didn’t know if she was asking about herself or Chaeryeong, but she found herself nodding, anyway, and it was a thin facade that Lia evidently saw right through, because they went out for milkshakes after, which were a mercy in the summer heat.

So what Yeji should have taken care of weeks ago had come rising up to meet her.

The truth was, it wasn’t working, whatever she and Chaeryeong were doing. The avoidance- it was hurting Ryujin , and maybe even the actual Shin Ryujin, with how troubled her expression became whenever Chaeryeong entered the conversation. If Lia was acting on it, well- Yeji took her cue to do what she could.

The thought of seeking out Lee Chaeryeong made her skin crawl, because it was all too easy to be afraid of her, to blame her for Nayeon’s face, wide-eyed and fearful with the shadow of death over her as Yeji’s pointer finger throbbed whenever it remembered the cold metal of the trigger.

But perhaps Lia had given her more than a nudge. Perhaps she had let her see Chaeryeong, the real Chaeryeong, or whatever was left of her, just for a moment, behind the knives and the deranged smiles and the bloodlust. 

It was so complicated that Yeji wanted to scream. She want to talk, for hours, but she couldn’t talk to any of the others, afraid of offending them, as touchy as they were about Chaeryeong (for good reason). She certainly couldn’t talk to anyone else- she felt a brief flicker of bitter amusement, at the thought of what Dahyun or Jihyo would say if she called them for the first time in weeks to ask for interpersonal advice on how to get along with Shin Ryujin’s most volatile killer.

So all she could do was think, and slowly, an image of Chaeryeong formed in her mind that was a little more than skin deep. She was dangerous, yes, but intrinsically damaged, and she probably had a few genuine screws loose, but god, her fucking shoulder-

She was bloodthirsty, but she had more than proved that sometimes, that was what you needed. She was loyal to a fault, and had signed her soul away to that mercurial life of crime and shadows more than someone like Yeji would probably ever understand.

Because whenever Chaeryeong pulled the trigger, she was never wielding an empty gun.

And Yeji thought that maybe, just maybe, she was so afraid of Chaeryeong, so resistant to the idea of going anywhere near her, because she could see herself in her, just a bit.

They had both lost family, older sisters that had once been their pillars of faith and reason. They had both sworn loyalty to the same cause, and that ought to count for something, too.

And they both were something, to Ryujin.

Yeji couldn’t help trying to reconcile, finally, with how Chaeryeong looked at their crime leader, sometimes. It was something she would never know, it was beyond something as definable as trust or love- to break oneself down so completely for another, to kill without question for them, to learn to thrive on it.

(Perhaps that was why Chaeryeong was so afraid Yeji, too, though she would rather flay herself alive than admit it. Yeji was not so damaged, not so far gone- Yeji could love, could maybe, just maybe, give Ryujin something Chaeryeong couldn’t understand, either. Not that Yeji had ever considered that, though, occupied as she was routinely and ostensibly purging the notion of love from her mind.)

Yeji eventually found herself outside Chaeryeong’s warehouse, on a brief break between runs, pulling the car up and taking a deep breath, wondering if she would ever take another, or if Chaeryeong would see her dead, finally, before she could even open her mouth.

She pushed the metal doors open, finally, with shaking hands, thinking of the furrow between Ryujin’s brow, thinking of how maybe, just maybe, the next time they all went out to dinner together, Chaeryeong could come, too, and forcing herself to think also of how it was best for the investigation, surely, to smooth things over with her loosest cannon.

However, it was a weak defense, and as the doors slammed shut behind her, she found it trickling out of her mind as the darkness bloomed across her vision.

At first, she thought Chaeryeong wasn’t there. It took her eyes a minute to adjust to the shadows, to the gloom, and the memories that hit her like a brick.

Nayeon-

“Can Yeji-yah be the one to do it-”

“It’s okay, unnie. You can look-”

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

Her head swiveled, and Chaeryeong was looking up at her from the floor, from where she was laying down, apparently playing with a butterfly knife- jet black, even the blade seeming to be made of ink itself in the absence of lighting.

Yeji wondered if this was how she spent her time not tracking or killing or watching out for everyone. In the dark, unconcerned for the grime on the floor, her clothes still inexplicably immaculate, white-

Buthey were black, today, as if Chaeryeong wanted to bleed into the shadows herself.

Yeji forced herself back to reality, because Chaeryeong’s tone was entirely flat and yet still clearly spelled out danger.

“Apologizing,” she said, because it was the first thing she thought of.

Chaeryeong stood, slowly, her eyes unblinking and invisible in the darkness.

“I’m sorry,” Yeji said quickly, before she could say anything. “I know you don’t want to see me-”

A small gesture, a flick of the knife, and she talked as fast as she could, just in case it went spinning across the room to bury itself in her throat and effectively silence her.

“-and I’m sorry to like, break into your space, but I wanted to apologize. Because I’ve been- well, breaking into your space, I guess- since the very first day, I know I have, but-”

“You’re not actually apologizing,” Chaeryeong cut into her, still in that same, expressionless voice. “You don’t give a fuck, and I don’t give a fuck about you. So get out.”

It was the last warning Yeji would get, that much was clear, but she only squared her shoulders in response.

“Listen,” she began again, trying to keep her voice steady. “I get it. You don’t like me. You don’t think I should be one of you guys, that’s fine. But I want you to know, I’m not- I’m not this fake, two-faced person that you think I am. I care about us-”

Chaeryeong’s face twitched, and Yeji amended her mistake as quickly as she had made it.

-about you all, about Ryujin , too, and right now- right now, we need to work as a team. If we want to stay on top of things, if we want to be able to be there for each other and keep each other safe, we have to trust one another, or at least trust Ryujin-ssi-”

“Don’t you dare,” Chaeryeong hissed, stepping forwards, her eyes visible now, and flashing dangerously again. 

Fuck. 

I really, really shouldn’t have used that word.

“Don’t you dare speak to me of trust , Hwang Yeji . You’ve been here, what- a month and a half, and you think you can talk to me- you think you can tell me what to- you think I won’t drain every fucking drop of your blood right here and right now if I chose too? Did Ryujin actually manage to fuck your brains right out of your fucking head- ”

“I’m sorry,” Yeji managed, desperately, feeling her back hit the metal doors, her mind spinning, staggering under the weight of Chaeryeong’s anger.

The worst kind of rage was the kind that went unspoken. The kind that festered, like a wound, until it finally bled, thick and toxic, something that could never properly heal-

“I’m sorry- Chaeryeong-ssi, I’m not trying to- I’m just- I wanted to-”

Chaeryeong laughed, though there was absolutely no humor in it, and it made ever hair on Yeji’s body stand on end.

“Are you that spineless, then? That you’re not even angry with me?”

Yeji felt the words like they had slapped her in the face.

“What?”

“You heard me.” Chaeryeong said ruthlessly, a gleam of triumph in her eyes, savage and dizzying with bloodlust. “I could have gotten your friend killed. I wanted to. Tell me, do you see her face before you fall asleep, your Nayeon unnie? ”

Yeji felt like everything inside her had turned to ice, even though her blood seemed to have lit itself on fire. She wondered if she could manage to slap Chaeryeong clear across the face, just once, before the younger woman could cut her hand off for it. 

Because of course she did- fuck, of course she still woke up shaking and sick and trying not to wake Ryujin whenever it coincided on their nights together, the nights that Chaeryeong obviously scorned, thinking of Yeji still as just another one of Ryujin’s playthings-

She wanted to say, do you see hers , and watch Chaeryeong’s eyes shatter and her shoulder twitch.

But she didn’t. 

She couldn’t. 

Maybe that made her weak, like Chaeryeong so evidently thought. 

“Ryujin-ssi’s worried about you,” she said instead, banking on the fact that the mention of Ryujin would stay Chaeryeong’s unsteady hand. “The others are, too. I’m just- I know you did what you thought you had to do in the warehouse, to make sure I wouldn’t hurt you all.”

Chaeryeong let out a laugh that sent chills down Yeji’s spine.

“Hurt us?” she spat. “You couldn’t hurt us, even if you tried. And I know you, I know you exactly for what you are, no matter what you’re trying to be-”

Chaeryeong slammed a hand against the door, the metal sound of it ripping through the air, right next to Yeji’s face, and she jumped in spite of herself, because the younger woman was suddenly so close, her teeth bared like an animal that had just caught it’s prey as she slowly smiled that same blood-chilling smile.

“You’re only here because you’re easy . Because you’re a pathetic City bitch , just her fucking toy-”

Yeji felt something cold touch her cheek, almost delicately, and didn’t have to look to know it was the knife, there, and fear was slowly rooting her to the spot, spreading through her from where the blade touched her cheek.

“Should we see how much she likes you, when your face isn’t quite so pretty?”

Her grin widened, at Yeji’s obvious terror, frozen in place in her warehouse, at the edge of her knife, finally.

“Nothing more to say?” she continued, slowly, as if savoring the words, the scent of Yeji’s fear on the air, and Yeji couldn’t speak, couldn’t breathe-

“That’s what I thought. So don’t you dare speak to me like you know me, Hwang Yeji . Like you know the others so much better than I do, because you’re Ryujin-ah’s fucking whore , and that’s all you’ll ever be, no matter how hard you try-”

“I’m trying ,” Yeji cut in suddenly, desperately, her voice louder than Chaeryeong’s for the first time, pitched high in muted terror. “To be your friend .”

Whatever Chaeryeong had been expecting, it had clearly not been that, because her knife was gone, suddenly, and she was staggering backwards, as if scalded, her eyes wide.

Yeji hadn’t expected it either, to be honest, but it had fallen past her lips with images of the others flashing before her eyes, the way they always seemed to quiet at the mention of Chaeryeong, unsettled, the way it wore on Ryujin day by day, trying to keep them all together, and Yeji was damned if she didn’t try, too, for some reason that she tried not to think about.

“My-”

“So,” Yeji plowed on, ignoring her as best as she could, her heart still hammering and her face still stinging, though the skin was unbroken, as if it could still feel the press or the shadow of the blade. “If you really can’t stand me, just- just let me drive you places. Let me pick you up, assist you on runs, or at leat come out for drinks or something with us every now and then, because your friends- the others- are worried. About you. And I’m only here to help, I- I know my place, and I’m only here to help. Okay?”

She didn’t wait for a response before leaving, escaping the warehouse as her skin had been crying to do the entire time, and somehow she was allowed to, and the sunlight was a relief, and she had to suck in lungfuls of unstifled air, free from the stench of metal and blood, before making her way back to the car with trembling legs.

She texted the Bureau, for the first time in a while again, just to let them know she was alive, her fingers shaking so violently she wondered if they would ever stop.

Then she shut off her phone, and drove to the clinic, and waited for Lia to finish up.

The blonde, when she left the surgery room, took one look at her and smiled.

“Milkshakes?”

It helped. The milkshakes, again, and the softness behind Lia’s eyes, and the cooling promise of a summer night.

Yeji thought Chaeryeong would have had the decency to keep their talk private, especially as they had actually all been able to get dinner together a day later, and the faces of the others were so palpably relieved and hopeful that the slight awkwardness had been worth it, but-

“I heard you paid the warehouse a visit.”

She kept her eyes on the road, even though she could still sense Ryujin on her periphery as always. She tried to steady her voice, her grip on the steering wheel tightening as she drove.

“I did, yeah. Was that… okay?”

Ryujin seemed to consider that, for a moment. Yeji couldn’t help sneaking a glance at her- fuck, her side profile was gorgeous- before forcing her focus back to her task.

“It was dangerous,” the dark-haired woman said, instead of a more concrete answer.

Yeji bit her lip.

“I know. I just- you know, I wanted to just… clear the air, you know? I mean, we can hardly work together like this, and even putting the work aside, I just…”

She didn’t know how to tell the Shin Ryujin that she hated seeing her troubled, or weighed down. So she didn’t.

“I saw her with Lia, at the clinic. After one of her... jobs.”

Ryujin sighed, softly, and Yeji imagined the air passing through her lips, then kicked herself for that ache in her chest.

“Yeah.”

She might have said something more, or maybe there was nothing else to say, but then she chuckled, suddenly, and Yeji looked up, startled.

They had reached Ryujin’s house, she realized. She was supposed to be taking them to the clinic, but apparently, her brain had been on autopilot, and she flushed brilliantly red that was visible even in the waning evening light.

“Sorry- I’ll turn around, here-”

“No need,” Ryujin said casually. “Yuna texted me, anyway. Apparently Chaeryeong showed up to drive them home, so we weren’t needed tonight.”

Yeji blinked.

“Right. Right, so- do you need to be somewhere? I can take you there, instead.”

“Come inside,” was the only answer she got, and she followed Ryujin in getting out of the truck dutifully, her cheeks still red, figuring Ryujin wanted to continue their previous conversation inside, even though she felt the heat in her face spread steadily south at the look Ryujin gave her as she closed the door behind them.

Ryujin hadn’t thanked her, for Chaeryeong. but it seemed that she planned to thank her in nonverbal ways.

And theirs was a regular thing, now, but the way that things amongst them all seemed to have eased might have freed up Ryujin’s mind to be more creative, because barely fifteen minutes later, Yeji choked, and she would have been embarrassed by the high whine that followed it if she wasn’t using every ounce of her energy to keep from passing out.

“Taking me so well, Yeji-yah,” Ryujin said lowly from somewhere behind and above her, her hands biting into Yeji’s hips and waist as she pushed into her. “So good for me.”

Yeji only let out another moan at that, Ryujin’s next stroke making her see stars.

Because of course, Shin Ryujin owned sex toys. What else had she expected, really?

Certainly not this, though, not Ryujin sitting her down on the bed and pulling out the black harness and the long, thick dildo, raising an eyebrow challengingly at her frozen expression.

And what could Yeji do but obey, as always, letting Ryujin bend her over and fuck into her with far too little lube and far too rough of a rhythm.

To be fair, it hadn’t entirely been Ryujin’s fault, how much Yeji’s body was currently screaming in pain, and not in a fun way. The bottle of lube had been mostly empty, and Yeji didn’t comment on it, because something about that set every part of her on fire, except this time, the flames were green.

The bottle had been used .

Yeji gritted her teeth, as Ryujin pressed forwards again, and she felt like it was tearing her in two.

She wasn’t an idiot. She knew Ryujin had- well, she had had others , but the thought of Ryujin with another in her bed- the thought of Ryujin, watching someone else fall apart at her touch-

“Yeji-yah. Are you alright?”

She blinked.

Ryujin had halted, seemingly unsure, which was a new look on her in the bedroom.

Yeji felt her face go hot with shame; she didn’t want to disappoint Ryujin, not now, not with the thought of the many, many women she must entertain was weighing heavy on the back of her mind.

“Just fine,” she said, a little tersely, but it was all she could manage.

“Is it hurting you? I-”

“It’s fine .”

She would have worried about taking this sort of tone with her, but anger, jealousy, shame, and pain were all mixing together inside her, a lethal sort of cocktail, and she wished Ryujin would just get on with it, would just-

“Hold on, let me take it out-”

Yeji had to bite down on a pillow to stop from screaming.

It was so much worse coming out that it had been going in, and she could only hiss in pain as Ryujin turned her over onto her back, her hands careful, if Yeji had been paying enough attention to notice.

“It was hurting you,” she insisted, watching Yeji pant and wince, laying back gingerly. “Why didn’t you say something? I know we didn’t have much of the lube, but-”

“No kidding.”

Yeji could feel her face flush ever darker, because the words had left her without her meaning to, and she could tell Ryujin had noticed, because surely nothing ever escaped those infinite brown eyes.

“Hwang,” Ryujin began, almost amused in her own confusion, but Yeji rolled over quickly, trying not to show her face, because she never could control her expressions in this setting.

It was all well and good in theory. To know that she was Ryujin’s, again, and to know that Ryujin would never be hers, and even if the leader didn’t dip into her own clubs for other woman to warm her bed, there were surely others- many others, Yeji thought, with a flicker of something bitter and green.

She knew that. It didn’t make it any easier.

Chaeryeong had made it worse. She hated to think of that, with how finally promising things with the younger woman had been lately, but she could still hear the echo of some of her words, and everyone knew it was truth that stung the worst.

You’re only here because you’re easy. Because you’re a pathetic City bitch, just her fucking toy. You’re Ryujin-ah’s fucking whore, and that’s all you’ll ever be, no matter how hard you try-

And now she hadn’t even been able to take the sex toy, which she knew logically was through no fault of her own, but still-

Yeji wasn’t entirely irrational. She knew she had the brand. But that didn’t mean- if Ryujin got bored of her-

A delicate, cold finger trailed along her side, and she shivered, involuntarily.

It was both telling and terrifying, the way that one touch from Ryujin could banish any other thoughts from her mind.

“I thought you seemed more tense than usual,” Ryujin murmured, and her voice was low, so close to her ear that Yeji inhaled sharply in surprise, not having heard her move so close.

“I’m not,” she said back, a little too tersely, and it sounded petulant instead of strong, but any swell of embarrassment or bitterness she could have felt like that was washed away by the easy explorations of Ryujin’s hand down her side, venturing a little over her chest.

She gasped, in spite of herself, as Ryujin caught one nipple between her thumb and forefinger and pressed down.

“You know,” Ryujin mused, and she could fucking hear the grin in her voice. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

Yeji couldn’t have responded, even if she wanted to, her back arching a little, letting out only a hitch of a breath when Ryujin bent down to take her nipple into her mouth.

Fuck, she’s good with her tongue everywhere , Yeji thought dizzily, begrudgingly allowing herself to be turned over onto her back again, allowing Ryujin’s hands and mouth to work at her like clay until she felt hot and sticky and decidedly overcome.

“But there’s no need for all that,” Ryujin murmured, coming back up to catch her eyes in those dark brown ones, obviously enjoying the way Yeji shuddered and whimpered under her touch. “You’re the only one in my bed, Yeji-yah.”

Yeji didn’t know how to even begin to respond to that, but luckily she didn’t have to, because Ryujin was dipping down again, her hands trailing down her body, her head lowering, her mouth pressing flush against her burning center, and it was all she could do to hold on- to the sheets, to Ryujin’s hair, anything, because fuck-

She used it on herself, part of her whispered, even as her mind was growing hazier, her muscles growing tighter, begging for release, and Ryujin only made a satisfied noise against her when her pleadings became verbalized. 

She must have, it’s the only other way-

The thought of Ryujin, eyes closed in pleasure, mouth open in a silent moan, sinking down on the toy, was what brought her orgasm, suddenly and almost unexpectedly, and she nearly choked on it as Ryujin fucked her through it.

Ryujin surfaced once Yeji had stopped twitching and gasping, had let go of her hair with a murmured apology, which the leader waved off.

“Recover, Hwang. I’m not done with you yet.”

Yeji pouted a little, unaware of doing so.

“You hate it when I call you Ryujin-ssi, and yet, you insist on calling me Hwang. It’s unfair,” she murmured, also unaware that she was borderline whining, and that Ryujin seemed to be struggling not to grin again in response.

“Yeah, well. I make the rules, so: recover, Hwang.”

Yeji flushed a little at the order, and Ryujin did actually grin at that, a little wolfishly, her eyes still dark and her lips still wet in a way that made Yeji’s stomach twist.

“Can we-”

She didn’t know how to verbalize it, because she knew she would never see Ryujin like that, like how she imagined, but god, the image of it made her want to-

“I want to try it again,” Yeji said, quietly, feeling a little x-rayed under Ryujin’s heavy gaze. “The- your toy. I’m recovered, I- please.”

The shadow-haired woman frowned.

“We shouldn’t, if it hurt you, before. I told you I wouldn’t hurt you, Yeji-yah.”

Yeji blinked.

She hadn’t thought Ryujin had actually meant that, what she had said after the brand weeks ago- their lifestyle surely didn’t allow for such scruples- but Ryujin was surveying her so stubbornly, her chin raised defiantly, that she couldn’t have been anything but serious.

It made something in her chest warm. And hurt, of course, as always.

Still, Yeji thought she knew how to resolve it, even if the words made her cheeks redden to say.

“I kind of like it when you hurt me, though, Ryujin-ah. Here.”

A scorched, shattered expression took over Ryujin’s face, and Yeji could feel the shift, palpable and deliciously tense in the air.

“Lie back, then,” Ryujin said quietly, though her tone was dripping with power and promise, and Yeji obeyed at once, her heart hammering in her chest.

It was different, from this angle. She could see Ryujin, her dark eyes still burning into her, keeping her pinned in place- could see the muscles of her arms work as she lowered herself down, one hand snaking between them to align the tip of the toy with Yeji’s entrance, and-

And she could see Ryujin’s hips move, the scar on the side glinting in the moonlight, as Ryujin pushed into her again.

“Fuck-”

It went in easier, this time. Whether she was soaking wet from the previous orgasm, or just from the look Ryujin was giving her, Yeji didn’t know, but it hardly mattered.

“Good girl,” Ryujin murmured, carefully, and Yeji whimpered, her mouth falling open with another stroke, slow and languid, the pain flaring again, but as inch after inch sunk into her, it was beginning to feel only like molten pleasure, as Ryujin’s hands came up to pin her own above her head, roughly, just like she liked it, even as her movements in and out were still careful.

“Just needed to be warmed up, didn’t you?”

Yeji would have replied, but then Ryujin began to do it harder, her skin flush up against Yeji’s, and that made any capability for coherent speech leave her.

She wanted to be good- wanted to beg, the way Ryujin liked- but all she could do was moan and lift her legs to give Ryujin better access, because the dark-haired woman was still going at an agonizing, torturous pace but it was so hard, filling her up so much, that it still left her breathless.

The next stroke pushed it in to the hilt, and-

“ Ryujin, ” Yeji groaned, something guttural and visceral, squeezing her eyes shut because holy shit , she hadn’t taken a toy before and it could certainly reach places that just fingers could not.

“Yeah? Is that good?”

The drag of it, nearly all the way out of her before slamming back in, all the way, was enough to make her voice crack on a scream in reply.

“Fuck, Yeji-yah,” Ryujin murmured, her voice low, and Yeji’s eyes fluttered open to see her closer, their faces nearly touching, their lips hovering much too close to be safe, and maybe Ryujin realized it too, because she shifted to speak lowly, filthily into her ear instead.

“You have no idea how good you look right now. Taking me so well, baby-”

Baby.

That was new, but Yeji barely had time to whimper, because Ryujin was going faster, now that she was sure Yeji could take it, fucking into her so hard that her vision blurred, and Ryujin’s words were washing over her like wine, rough and panting, now, making everything liquid and hot and so, so good.

“So good for me. Do you want it to hurt, Yeji-yah? Do you want it rough?”

Whatever she choked out in response to that must have been an affirmative, because the force of it was making the bed shake, and then there was just the slightest shift in angle-

“ Fuck- ”

There was usually a certain spot inside her that Ryujin could pin down deftly and effectively with her fingers, curling up into her and making her feel like she was shattering into a million hot, sticky pieces, but like this-

Like this, with the length and thickness of the toy, of Ryujin filling her up-

It made her just as loud as Ryujin liked, losing herself entirely in it, letting go of any inhibition entirely.

“Fuck, right there- Ryujin-ah, right there, don’t stop, fuck- please, I’ll be good-”

“You’ll be good?”

“Yes,” Yeji cried, the word ripped from her as Ryujin bit down on her neck, sucking at it hard enough to leave marks, and she shivered with pleasure at the feeling of it, at Ryujin’s reassurance. “Fuck, yes, please- all yours, please, don’t stop, Jin-ah, right there-”

It was the most important thing in the world, at that moment, for Ryujin not to stop, for Ryujin to keep fucking her so good and so hard that she felt everything start to tighten-

“Fuck, you feel good,” Ryujin murmured in her ear, her lips still wet and her tone almost as wrecked as Yeji felt. “You’re so- fuck- ”

It was the realization that this was affecting Ryujin, too, that every stroke was hitting against her clit, the base of the toy flush with her skin, that made Yeji’s head fall back, her mouth falling open again in a moan.

“ Please- ”

She was begging for Ryujin to keep fucking her, to keep going and going until it was enough for her to come, too, but Ryujin must have taken her slurred, desperate gasp as a plea for more, because she managed to do it harder, the bed shaking with the force of it, hitting into that one spot again, and again -

“Say my name,” Ryujin whispered, right when her vision was beginning to tunnel, her back beginning to arch.

“ Ryujin , Ryujin, I-I’m close, please, don’t stop-”

“I won’t stop, baby, don’t worry, you’re so good-”

The world went white, and all she could do was close her eyes against the force of it, the rush unlike anything she had ever felt before, and Ryujin was as good as her word, it turned out, because she didn’t stop, fucking into the one spot inside Yeji that made her feel weightless, liquid, burning and melting at once, and every time Yeji thought she was spent the feeling of it would make her clench down all over again, until she was a panting, moaning mess, until all she could do was push at Ryujin weakly to stop, finally. 

Ryujin did, at once, pulling out of her more gently than she might have expected, but her mind was completely gone, and the haze of it all kept her feeling dazed and entirely drained, whimpering only a little at the feeling of loss as the toy left her.

“You’re bleeding,” commented Ryujin after a moment, settling down next to her, watching her with careful eyes.

Well. This, too, was new, in their nights nowadays. 

Yeji wasn’t quite sure how or when it had happened, especially as she had a tendency to be fucked silly whenever they were alone, but Ryujin began lingering by her side, even when it was clear that Yeji was done, the night over, offering nothing but sarcastic conversation for a few moments rolling over to go to sleep.

It wasn’t exactly pillow talk, and it was certainly not cuddling, but the weakest, most pathetic, confused part of her thought that it might be Ryujin’s way of making sure she was okay afterwards.

That was probably just the orgasm talking.

Yeji tried to look down at herself, her head still foggy, knowing from the way her insides ached that the blood came from where Ryujin had been pounding at, but gave up as her abdominal muscles screamed in protest. 

“Whose fault is that,” she managed, her voice raw from the screaming Ryujin had so expertly managed to fuck out of her. 

Ryujin snorted, surveying her from a few feet away, and Yeji wished the bed was smaller, wished for warmth and the surprisingly soft comfort of Ryujin’s skin against hers.

That’s definitely the orgasm talking.

She turned, wincing, and if it brought her closer to Ryujin, neither of them said anything about it. 

They both lay there, Ryujin looking at her, and her looking down, trying to focus anywhere but Ryujin’s eyes or full, pink lips, trying desperately not to search for something that wasn’t there or wish for something she couldn’t have.

“Thank you,” she said at last, quietly. Ryujin tilted her head at her, and she shivered, yielding finally to the temptation to gaze into those dark brown eyes.

“Anytime,” Ryujin said, her voice low and uncharacteristically hesitant. 

Yeji closed her eyes, though she still felt Ryujin’s gaze piercing into her. She didn’t remember when she fell asleep, but though she knew better than to hope for Ryujin to hold her through the night, to ease the ache of her muscles with her own warmth, at least she didn’t wake up alone.

They used the sex toy more frequently, after that.

The more they did, the more that Yeji suspected that it stimulated Ryujin, too. With every stroke, Ryujin would grit her teeth, inhaling sharply or exhaling roughly, and especially when Yeji begged for more or harder, or cried out her name, she could feel Ryujin actually shudder.

They hadn’t talked about it, Yeji ever returning the favor, but it was a slow-burning fire in the back of her mind, condensing to an inferno of desire, and it was only a matter of time before she couldn’t keep it inside any longer.

The day she gave in, it was actually Ryujin was the one who had inadvertently started the conversation. It was another one of their late nights together, and this time Ryujin was carrying her gingerly to the bed, because Yeji had gasped out, when one of Ryujin’s hands had pinned her own above her head, fuck, you’re so strong, Ryujin-ah, and the dark-haired woman’s eyes had gone the color of the deepest night sky, and then she was lifting Yeji up to fuck her up against the wall, her hands the only thing holding her up, Yeji’s legs clinging desperately to her waist as Ryujin gave her one after the other until she was spent.

After that, when Yeji had regained the ability of speech again, was when Ryujin said:

“You can ask for things, you know.”

“That’s not an order,” she clarified quickly, her eyes narrowing as Yeji’s gaze snapped back to her. “Just- if you want, if you ever want anything, like that-”

She gestured to the wall, significantly.

“-you can ask for it.”

Yeji tilted her head, puzzled.

This was still supposed to be about what Ryujin wanted, what they shared some nights and days, not her. It was still supposed to be about power, and loyalty, and psychology, and all those other confusing things that Ryujin had slowly been undoing inside her, as she made her break and come back together again, over and over.

So why was the younger woman’s gaze softer, now? Why was the offer implicit in her voice, the idea that Yeji too could voice her own desires here, where there was no one around them but the sheets and the sounds of the humming, nocturnal summer insects outside?

It was late, now. Night had truly descended, and Yeji didn’t want to push it, her own exhaustion weighing on her eyelids, knowing Ryujin must have been tired from the exertion, too.

“Ryujin-ssi, you know whatever you want is… what I also want,” she said slowly, diplomatically, but the shadow-haired woman shook her head impatiently, at both the honorific and her words.

“Fine, then. Tell me what you want- that’s an order.”

Yeji let her eyes meet those dark brown, fierce ones before her, the words falling from her lips like water at Ryujin’s command.

“I want to taste you.”

Ryujin jerked upright, and that soft part of Yeji mourned the loss of even the barest trace of her body heat, her hand reaching out shakily in spite of herself to rest on the spot where Ryujin’s head had been on the pillow beside her.

“What?”

Ryujin’s voice was all edges, now, terrifyingly similar to that tone that so explicitly meant danger, but Yeji kept speaking, because Ryujin had told her to.

“I want to taste you, Jin-ah. I want to touch you. I want to make you feel good, too, please- whenever you need, if ever you need, I want you to- to use me, to make yourself feel good. That’s- that’s what I want,” she finished softly.

Ryujin moved forwards, and Yeji’s eyes immediately flinched shut, her hand retracting, her body tensing for the blow.

When the sharp pain she had expected didn’t come, she cracked one eye open again. 

Ryujin was staring at her, an unguarded mixture of emotions on her face.

“Can I order you to stop being afraid of me?”

Yeji considered this, answering honestly, a little taken aback by the question. “I mean- of course, you can, but I- I won’t be able to, I don’t think. And I don’t want to disappoint you, Ryujin-ah.”

The shadow-haired woman swallowed these words like a pill, it seemed, nodding sharply, her mask of blankness slipping back down over her face as easily as it had lifted.

“Isn’t that a good thing?” Yeji tried. “That I’m afraid of you?”

Ryujin said nothing. 

Yeji tried to backpedal, words wanton in her desperation. “I mean, nearly everyone’s afraid of you, so-”

“I don’t let people touch me,” Ryujin interrupted her, her eyes sharp and glistening in the darkness. “I don’t let anyone touch me. I don’t let anyone… taste me.”

Yeji wondered vaguely how they had switched back to this all of a sudden, but that keen instinct in her that thrived on Shin Ryujin reared up inside her readily. 

“Their loss, I’m sure,” she said softly, keeping her eyes fixed on the other woman’s pupils, her heart thundering in her chest. She licked her lips, in spite of herself, and watched Ryujin’s eyes flicker down to them, then back up again

Ryujin swallowed, once. Then twice, settling back down beside her slowly, still tense.

“Why?” she asked finally, her voice cracking slightly,  though Yeji was sure she had mistaken the noise. “Why do you want me to- want me to use you?”

Haven’t you been using me, all along? The way I’ve been using you? Yeji thought, desperate and plaintive and wanting so, so badly to be good, still, somehow, her mind incurably full of the desire to please Ryujin, to keep those eyes on her, only her. Isn’t that who we are, you and I? Why does everything suddenly feel so different, now?

She could answer neither Ryujin’s questions nor her own, so she moved slowly off the bed instead, taking care to keep her hands in view at all times, until she was kneeling on the floor at the foot of the bed, looking up into Ryujin’s stricken face from between the shadow-haired woman’s outstretched legs.

“Please,” she said quietly, not blinking. “Please, Ryujin-ah, use me. I want you- I want to make you feel good. Please. I need you-”

It was too much, suddenly, that last part, and even as her throat closed up on the words, Ryujin surged forwards, and she was glad for the harshness with which Ryujin grabbed her by the hair and pushed her roughly in to meet her wet, warm center, the younger woman’s black underwear ripped aside easily by both of their shaking, urgent hands.

Ryujin groaned , as soon as Yeji managed to press her tongue against her, and Yeji felt herself tremble at the sound, at the taste of Ryujin on her tongue. Desperate to hear more of those sounds, she licked, trying to make up for what she lacked in composure with skill, trying to drown out her screaming internal turmoil with the sound of her own ministrations and the noises she could draw from Ryujin’s lips.

“Fuck, Hwang- Yeji -”

Ryujin moved against her, equally desperate but rhythmless, half-gone already, and Yeji wondered how long she had been keeping herself waiting, keeping herself in check, wet and aching in frustration, and if she had ever expected to stop.

She sucked, experimentally, and was rewarded by a loud cry and Ryujin’s whole body arching in response.

“ Fuck , baby, that’s it. God, Yeji-yah, you’re so fucking good-”

And the words falling from Ryujin’s open mouth were enough to stir another treacherous wave of arousal inside her, suddenly. She clenched her thighs shut, trying to stave it off, licking and sucking harder, because she was never allowed to come unless Ryujin commanded it, normally.

Use me , she thought blindly, as Ryujin fucked her tongue as mercilessly as she had fucked her. Use me, please, I want you, I want to be good for you, yours-

“So fucking good-”

She moaned against Ryujin’s wetness, and the younger woman jolted with pleasure at the vibration, her hand tightening painfully in the brunette’s hair. Yeji felt herself tremble too, the raw ache between her legs almost impossible to ignore, coupled with the sting of Ryujin’s nails on her scalp.

Ryujin came with a harsh, choked cry, covering her own mouth with her only free hand, her body tensing and jerking, and Yeji licked and sucked obediently at whatever she could reach from her position, pressed flush against Ryujin’s clit, the wetness burning her lips, staining her chin.

She felt herself tighten, too, at Ryujin’s pleasure, and the barest hint of friction by the movement of her thighs squeezed together, and cursed her body’s betrayal even as the wave of subsequent pleasure washed over her in spite of her best efforts to hold it back, and she moaned again, softer.

Ryujin’s hand was still shaking, lightly, as it pulled her unwillingly away from between her thighs, half-dragging her up to lay beside her.

Post-orgasm Ryujin was flushed, her hair messy and her body heaving, and Yeji thought that perhaps she had never looked more gorgeous, almost ethereal. 

She knew better than to say it, and also knew better than to try and touch the woman recovering in front of her, keeping herself as small and non-threatening as possible, wincing at the lingering aftershocks and that still ran through her.

She should feel satiated, she supposed, or gratified, but the room swam, suddenly, and she couldn’t manage to breathe evenly, reaching down shakily to press against the brand on her hip on instinct, though the subsequent flares of pain weren’t enough to quell the sick, reproachful feeling twisting inside her-

“Yeji.” 

She froze, immediately, at Ryujin’s words.

The brunette was propped up on one elbow, regarding her warily, her hair messily framing her face. 

“You’re hurting yourself.”

Yeji dropped her hands immediately, dazedly, though she couldn’t help the tear that ran down her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she managed, feeling that sick twist of shame inside her, wiping furiously at her eyes. “I’m s-sorry, I-”

“Don’t be,” Ryujin murmured, resting a hand on her shoulder. Yeji didn’t flinch, somehow. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Yeji couldn’t look at her. 

“I came again. Without- you know, permission, I just- I’m sorry, I promise, I didn’t even touch myself, I just- you were just-”

She looked at her.

“So beautiful,” she whispered, her voice breaking slightly.

Ryujin retracted her hand as if burned. 

Neither of them spoke for a moment, and Yeji had to bite her lip to fight the urge to scream, to try and dig back into her own skin at her disobedience, to rip out the thing inside her that was wrecking her, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry-

“Yeji-yah. Enough.”

Yeji’s head jerked back to look at her, aghast to find Ryujin smiling, slightly.

“You came, untouched, just at the sight of me? There’s no need to cry about that, baby, okay? If anything, you were good .”

Yeji couldn’t help the small whimper at the word.

“But- I didn’t wait for you to tell me, I didn’t-”

“Listen to me, Yeji. You were good , okay?” Ryujin’s arms stretched out, and Yeji wondered with a stab of longing if she was going to hug her, but they fell only on her shoulders, squeezing them lightly, and she leaned into the touch without thinking. “You were so good for me, baby. You took me so well, you let me- let me use you so well. You were- you were so beautiful, too.”

Yeji felt like she had been filled with blue fire, and she stared, trembling a little still.

“I was- I was-”

Her eyes betrayed her, trailing down to Ryujin’s lips. 

They were swollen slightly, bitten with the effort of the shadow-haired woman’s attempts to quell her own noises of pleasure, and Yeji ached to lean in, to-

“Yeji-yah?”

Yeji’s eyes flew to the blanket in front of her, as if suddenly interested in the color of it, trying to gloss over her moment of hazy weakness.

“Do you need me to take the couch tonight? I can,” she added quickly, because it was important, suddenly, that Ryujin felt comfortable, as she had traveled so far out of her comfort zone that night. It would seem counterintuitive, to handle a criminal with a delicate touch, but Yeji couldn’t help it.

Ryujin seemed to actually consider it, but there was something utterly unrecognizable in her gaze- something that Yeji kicked herself for thinking might be tenderness- when she shook her head.

“It’s fine. Come on- we should get ready for bed.”

They needed it, to be fair, after all of that , and Yeji caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror as she washed up. 

She looked thoroughly fucked, almost ridiculously so, her hair wild and her lips rubbed raw, old blood trailing down her leg and small bruises blooming on her waist and her unmarked hip from Ryujin’s harshness. 

Her heart swelled at the sight of it all.

Something inside her still hurt, though, even when she lay down to sleep beside the dark-haired woman, listening to her breathing even out, fighting the urge to reach out and touch her.

I wish that I could touch you, she thought, blinking back the sting of tears again, and it was a mixture of self-hatred and despair that flooded through her, because as much as Ryujin had given her, it still seemed like not enough, not what the thing beating a punishing rhythm against her chest was crying out for.

I wish that I could touch you, Shin Ryujin.

The AC in her corner office had broken.

Again.

Park Jihyo could feel herself sweating, droplets of it threatening to stain the documents spread out before her, but she worked anyway, through the sunlit hours and into a mercifully cooler night, progress report after evidence file after damning document-

“Unnie.”

Dahyun had placed a cup of coffee beside her, almost gently.

Jihyo barely glanced at it, her eyes on the papers in front of her, typing something into her computer.

“Thanks.”

“Unnie. You should wrap up for tonight, come on.”

At this, Jihyo did look up, if only a little disparagingly. 

“Are you going to?”

Dahyun sighed, somehow mistaking the question as an invitation to sit down.

“I know what you’re doing, but Jihyo unnie, you won’t find anything new there. And if she calls, you’ll have your phone on you, anyway.”

Jihyo was about to retort, defensively, that she was quite swamped with a million and one other things that had nothing to do with Hwang Yeji and a certain trafficking syndicate, before she looked down and noticed that somehow, that damn picture of Shin Ryujin had ended up in the dead center of her desk again.

“It’s not-”

It was hard to speak, suddenly. Because it was embarrassing, ultimately, for Dahyun to find her like this, burning the midnight oil with the back of her mind taken up entirely with something that was looking more and more like a lost cause-

“Don’t think that.”

Dahyun’s voice was gentle, but solid.

“I know you can’t read minds. It would have been in your file, Dahyun-ah,” Jihyo replied calmly, sarcastically, an edge of warning to her voice, but Dahyun pressed on.

“That assignment- and Yeji-yah, I suppose- just went through a massive overhaul, okay? There’s no way to know how much of it Nayeon unnie even saw, or what happened after she left. It makes sense, that there would be a bit of an… adjustment period, after.”

“Adjustment period?”

Jihyo couldn’t help the edge of anger in her voice, standing up from her desk in spite of herself.

“That’s what you call nearly three weeks of fuck all developments? Of near radio silence, of-”

“Unnie. I know,” Dahyun cut her off, and Jihyo nearly threw the cup of coffee in her face in frustration, but she was the younger woman’s superior, and probably shouldn’t throw things at her. “I know, but just give her time, okay?”

I don’t have time, Jihyo wanted to spit back, images of Sana and Momo plaguing her office door with hopeful looks that were becoming more and more desperate swimming in front of her eyes, of Jeongyeon’s pleading face, of Shin Ryujin staring up at her from her desk, her expression infuriatingly incalculable, Sakura, all my fault, revenge-

(Miyawaki Sakura was an open wound for Park Jihyo, one that she never let heal or scar over, even after all the blood had drained from it. 

Because it was due to her negligence, surely, that the young, promising detective, the freshest face in her department, under her wing, had run across the path of Lee Chaeyeon. It was her negligence, her oversight, her lack of attention, that had given Sakura the opportunity to do something as foolish as fall in love with the criminal.

By the time Sakura had approached her with the plea deal, it was too late for Jihyo to do anything other than accept it all for what it was, and for a moment, in her stupid flicker of optimism, she had forgotten to keep their guards up, she had forgotten to strike first, and Sakura-

Sakura was the one who paid the price for what had surely been Jihyo’s mistakes, in the end.)

Jihyo took a deep breath, counted to ten, and purged any hint of her true thoughts or feelings from her tone, carefully.

“You’re right, Dahyun-ah. I think I’ll call it a night. I won’t be needing the coffee, it seems, so do you mind taking it to Tzuyu? I think she could use it.”

If there was one surefire way to get Dahyun out of her hair, it was to give her an excuse to see their admittedly pretty technological mastermind, and Dahyun visibly fought back a smile as she nodded, seemingly pleased too at the victory as she left.

Jihyo waited until she was gone, then sat back down.

Because she didn’t have any plans to call it a night, of course.

She had just gotten quite an interesting idea.

Chapter Text

“Tell me something, Yeji-yah,” Ryujin said quietly one night.

It was a clear sky outside; if they had both looked out the window, they could have seen the glimmers of stars that shone through the wisps of smog that blew in from the City, but they didn’t, too busy losing themselves in one another.

Yeji rolled over to look at her, wincing slightly at the soreness between her legs. Their brief conversations afterwards had somehow morphed into this- into Ryujin’s careful eyes, soft words, and maybe even her lingering touches, as Yeji tried desperately not to want something she could not have.

“What do you want me to tell you?”

Ryujin’s cheeks puffed out slightly as she blew air out through them. It was almost cute. 

“Something no one else knows.”

Yeji thought for a moment.

There was something both dangerous and inexplicably safe about the night. Kind of like Shin Ryujin, personified- the shadows could hide things, of course, but they also wrapped around them both like a blanket, heavy and soft. 

And she could only respond honestly, slowly, carefully peeling back a layer of herself for Ryujin to see, because Ryujin had trusted her enough to do so, too, more often in their nights together. As always, Yeju was the first thing on the front of her mind, and she could almost see her face in the darkness, the one that looked almost hauntingly like her own, and yet…

“Sometimes I forget what Yeju looks like. Looked like.”

She swallowed, letting the words carry their weight through the air.

“It’s been so long, it seems, and I spent so much time pushing it aside that sometimes- sometimes when I try to remember, I can’t. Not quite. Not right away. It’s strange- I’m older than her, now...”

She couldn’t continue, aware of the hot sting of tears on her eyes, and she focused on breathing around the lump in her throat.

“Your sister?” Ryujin asked, her tone still quiet, almost tentative, and Yeji nodded, numbly.

“I wonder if Chaeryeong-ah feels the same way,” Ryujin said quietly, and Yeji would have been jealous, that Chaeryeong was on Ryujin’s mind even here, but she thought she might understand the two of them a bit better, now. Besides, it was her that Ryujin was looking at as she spoke, and no other, at least for the moment. 

“I wouldn’t know,” Ryujin continued, after a moment. “I had an older brother, but he died before I was born. I just have the others, now.”

She fell silent, as if she had said too much.

Yeji had never heard Ryujin speak of her family. Not that that was a surprise- not many people really had the luxury of a biological family, of parents. Certainly not people like Shin Ryujin. Family, love, loyalty- these were all things that people like them had to carve out of the desolate world that they had inherited for themselves. Those things weren’t a given, in their world.

They didn’t talk after that. Just rested, side by side, not touching, but maybe close enough.

The question came again, though, and again, and again, as they let the night fade into morning, staring into each other's eyes.

Tell me something, Yeji-yah.

And Yeji would answer, her tongue loose and her heart lost. 

“My hip still really fucking hurts sometimes. I haven’t told the others, because I don’t want them to think that I’m weak.”

“I cried for weeks after mine,” Ryujin admitted, and Yeji allowed herself a small smile. They had both been allowing more and more, lately.

“I’m kind of jealous of Yuna and Lia, sometimes. I never thought marriage could be a thing, for people like- people like-.”

“People like them?” Ryujin’s voice was low, uneven, unsure. “Like me?”

“Like us ,” Yeji felt the need to correct gently, and allowed herself to live in the stars reflected in Ryujin’s eyes. Just for a moment.

“I don’t have any actual memories of my parents. All I remember is the youth center, really.”

“I never stayed in the centers. I mostly lived on the streets, with the others.”

“What was it like?”

“It was necessary, I suppose. To make me the way I am, now.”

I’m sorry, Yeji didn’t say, though she hoped Ryujin could see it in her eyes. You deserved better. I wish I could’ve been there.

Ryujin’s own eyes became unreadable, again, the window closing for the night, though Yeji thought she might never stop trying to see through her.

And so it went, for a short while.

“HA!” Yuna yelled triumphantly, slamming her cards down on the table.

“What the-”

Yeji, meanwhile, could only gape at them- a straight flush, how in the fuck-

“Ooh, unnies, I almost feel bad taking your money, it’s so easy,” Yuna teased, her eyes sparkling and her smile wide in victory as she pulled the chips at the center of the table towards her.

Yeji should’ve known that Shin Yuna would be a card shark, but seriously? A straight flush ?

“You totally rigged the deck,” Chaeryeong accused, sourly pushing her own cards- boasting only a pair of queens, unfortunately- away from her.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game,” Yuna sang, and Yeji caught Chaeryeong’s eye. She rolled her own eyes in commiseration, and could have sworn she saw Chaeryeong’s lips twitch, but then the black-haired woman was standing up.

“Lia-yah, teach your wife some manners, will you?”

“With pleasure,” Lia replied evenly, taking her seat at the table. Yuna stuck out her tongue.

Someone tapped Yeji on the shoulder, and she couldn’t help a smile, even though she had just lost what must’ve been a quarter of her savings to their youngest member, at the sight of Shin Ryujin’s grin.

“Trust me, you don’t want to come in between those two,” Ryujin whispered, and Yeji nearly stood up, hurriedly, but too late-

“Stop flirting, you two,” Yuna called, smile widening in mock-innocence. “Ryujin-ah, let me see if your old age is catching up with you, hmm?”

Well. Yuna had clearly learned her competitive nature from somewhere, as Ryujin’s jaw hardened and she pulled up a chair, setting her drink down at the table. Yeji sat back down, resigning herself to her fate, as Lia insisted on being the one to deal the cards

They were all drinking, although Yuna was the furthest gone. Chaeryeong seemed to be the most sober, Yeji realized, and tried to force herself, as she had been lately, to look a little deeper.

Maybe she wants to make sure that someone is sober enough to be on their guard, she mused, and then lost her train of thought entirely when Ryujin spoke, her voice low and challenging.

“Last time I remember, Shin Yuna, I beat you with what- a pair of twos?”

Lia cackled at the look on Yuna’s face, but she recovered quickly.

“Well, let’s see if you can still bluff as well as you used to, Shin Ryujin . Chaeryeong-ah? Are you giving up, at last?”

Somehow, Yuna knew the exact words to use to make their most indeterminable member sit back down, slowly, and for a moment, with a full table, Yeji felt her heart lighten, especially as Ryujin’s knee rested against hers under the table.

Her joy didn’t last long, of course. She supposed with Ryujin’s composure, she would be a good hand at cards, but her bluff was so good that even Lia lost a few thousand to it.

“Yuna-yah was right,” Ryujin murmured, as Yeji helped clear away the drinks, when they all called it quits somewhere between 3 and 4am. “It’s really too easy, with you. You can’t lie to save your life, Hwang.”

Yeji pretended to glare at her, trying to quell the flicker of heat she felt at Ryujin’s smirk, as well as the twist in her gut that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

If only you knew.

So when Ryujin gestured for Yeji to drive her home, she agreed all too readily, eager to drown in the dark-haired woman, to drink her in like whiskey, just for a little longer- just for now.

Chaeryeong looked away, at this, and Yeji almost worried that whatever levity she had seen the barest hints of in her that night would vanish, ruined, but then Lia was calling for Chaeryeong to drive her and Yuna home, even though Yuna insisted she was sober enough to drive the motorbike. One quelling look from Lia shut her up quickly, though. 

“Come on,” Ryujin murmured, and her calloused hand pulling gently on Yeji’s was enough for everything- the others, the small war still roaring inside herself, made worse by the alcohol- to fall away, as it always did.

And the thing was, Yeji found herself getting slowly and effectively addicted to the idea of watching Shin Ryujin fall apart.

It might have been a coping mechanism. Call it whatever you wanted; Yeji couldn’t find the strength for any more self-evaluation at the moment. 

The first time should have been enough, but as with the drugs that the crime leader trafficked, one hit was never really enough, and Yeji found herself craving it, burning for it, all the time. She had learned to read Ryujin, now, a little better- learning to listen to the harshness of her breathing, to look at the darkness of her eyes, and to see it all for what it was.

Want.

Still. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and Shin Ryujin would not crumble in one night, either, so Yeji found herself having to get creative. It usually helped to start with herself, to show Ryujin exactly how much Yeji wanted to please her, wanted to be good for her, how good she would be, toeing the line without quite stepping over it, and then seeing if maybe, just maybe, Ryujin might let her…

“Can I lick it?”

Ryujin let out an odd noise of startled amusement, halting in the middle of pulling on the harness, the familiar strapon already set in the o-ring. 

“You’re so fucking weird, Yeji-yah.”

It was sort of cute, the way she consistently said Yeji’s name with that informal almost fondness when it was just the two of them, now. She even slipped up and said it once, around the others. Thankfully just around the two wives, but still- Lia had teased Yeji about it gently, Yuna had done the same mercilessly, and it still made her smile every time she thought of it, deaf to their good-natured mockery.

The softer names they had for one another, the gentle conversations afterwards… it was getting easier to think of these parts of her as Yeji’s. Away from the blood, and the money, and the nightclubs and day drugs, Yeji could see a more tender side to Ryujin, one the younger woman seemed more and more comfortable showing, the way Yeji felt more and more comfortable showing her own.

“What?” she asked, though she laughed a little at Ryujin’s incredulous expression. “We’re still out of lube, remember? Besides, you have me lick your fingers clean all the time.”

“Your mouth is getting dirtier,” Ryujin murmured, though her ears went pink in a way that was more than a little endearing, and also sent a thrill of premonition down Yeji’s spine. 

She likes it.

“That’s your influence,” she replied, lying stretched out on her stomach, blinking up at the shadow-haired woman. “Besides, you always seem so keen to know what I want.”

She didn’t reach for her, or the toy. She knew better than that, knew only to imply, to let Ryujin make the move, give her permission or her order or whatever else she needed, to allow herself the small concession, the little exception.

Yeji was quickly realizing that she would probably give any and every part of herself, in these moments, to be Ryujin’s exception. One of their secrets, kept just between the two of them.

And it all fell into place, perfectly, as Ryujin stepped towards her, reaching out a hand to touch just under her chin as she did sometimes, and when she spoke her voice was low in the way that always made Yeji shiver in anticipation.

“If you’re so desperate for it,” she said, pushing forward to bring the tip of the strapon to Yeji’s lips.

Yeji nearly lost it at the look on Ryujin’s face when she licked it, immediately feeling a sharp, hot wave of desire, a wish to draw more from the other woman. She tempered herself, forcing herself not to scare Ryujin off, and gave it a few more licks, never breaking eye contact, before taking the whole thing into her mouth.

The effect was immediate- a sharp intake of breath, the deepening of Ryujin’s gaze. Want .

“Shit, Yeji,” Ryujin hissed, watching her as if hypnotized, her hips jerking a little as if Yeji were actually sucking on her. “Fuck- why the fuck are you-”

“I want to make you feel good, too,” Yeji murmured, pulling back to keep licking the tip of it as she spoke, dipping down to make a wet stripe across the side as Ryujin shuddered. “I always do, Ryujin-ah. Please. I want to be good for you.”

As if to emphasize the statement, she let her mouth sink down on the dildo again, until it hit the back of her throat.

Ryujin’s head tilted back as she swore, still unable to tear her eyes away from Yeji.

And Yeji wanted to do more, wanted to slip her fingers under the harness and feel exactly what she was doing to Ryujin, drunk already on the scent of her, but this would have to be enough-

“Fuck-”

Ryujin nearly collapsed as her knees buckled, a little, and Yeji moaned around the toy as she sucked eagerly, the dark-haired woman’s obvious enthusiasm enough to spur her on, taking the whole thing down her throat, over and over.

“Yeji- fuck, Yeji ,” Ryujin panted, forcing a few of her own trembling fingers under the harness to help relieve the ache, there, on her own, and Yeji felt an odd swell of emotion at being able to see her like this, flushed and out of breath, all for her, saying her name in that wrecked, wanting voice. “You’re so- can I-”

Yeji understood Ryujin’s own unspoken question, moaning a little around the dildo again as she bobbed her head in ascent.

Ryujin moved slowly, at first, as if to make sure she wouldn’t hurt her, and the gentleness nearly made her cry, so she sucked, hard, making a noise that was so obscene it made her face flush even darker, if possible. Ryujin jolted forwards in response, and Yeji moaned in agreement as the toy hit the back of her throat, hard. She pushed her head back and forth, encouraging more, even though her jaw was starting to get tired, but it really was so worth it to coax those sounds from Ryujin’s lips that it hardly mattered.

“So- so good for me,” Ryujin managed, fucking into her mouth harder, her hand ceaseless between her own thighs, and Yeji’s high whine only made her grip her hair roughly, something for her to hold onto as she used her. “So good for me, Yeji, always so- fuck-”

Yeji felt Ryujin tense, her strokes into her mouth turning sloppy as she came, and the brunette nearly choked as Ryujin slammed all the way inside her, to the very hilt of the dildo, forcing some saliva to drip down to the bed where Yeji’s wetness had already stained the sheets.

Ryujin fell forwards a little onto the bed with a groan, as she let the aftershocks of the orgasm run their course. Yeji stayed dutifully still, even though the toy was at a bit of an awkward angle in her mouth like this, reveling in the feeling of Ryujin resting against her. 

Too soon, Ryujin recovered enough to pull herself upright, and Yeji let out a little whine as the strapon was pulled from her mouth, causing Ryujin to chuckle breathlessly.

“So weird,” she said quietly, as they both came down to lay next to each other on the bed. She reached out to stroke Yeji’s hair, and Yeji couldn’t help but curl a little closer, leaning into the somewhat rare touch.

“You didn’t seem to mind,” she replied, her voice a little hoarse, though there was enough of an implication to her tone, a challenge, that Ryujin lifted one eyebrow.

“I would have thought that after that, you’d have learned to shut up,” she said, nodding a little down to the toy, now sufficiently drenched in Yeji’s saliva, and though her voice lacked any real sharpness, and Yeji felt herself ache in spite of herself. 

“Ryujin,” she murmured, her eyes pleading, though Ryujin made no move to touch her, and she squirmed slightly, the wetness between her thighs growing more intolerable by the minute. It was all very well and good to try and play it cool, to keep up their witty banter, but fuck , watching Ryujin come undone did things to her-

“ Ryujin-ah , I was good, wasn’t I?”

Ryujin hummed, softly, instead of answering, as if thinking about it, and Yeji couldn’t stifle the small cry of frustration that left her lips.

“Wasn’t I?” she said softly, and something in her expression must have made Ryujin relent.

“You were good, Yeji-yah,” Ryujin murmured, running her hand down Yeji’s side, making her shiver and gasp where her nails brushed against the brand. “So good for me- do you want a reward, then?”

Yeji could only whimper as Ryujin twisted them effortlessly, so that Yeji fell back against the sheets with the dark-haired woman above her, holding her hips still and running the tip of the dildo teasingly over her entrance.

Her back arched at the feeling, and even as she bit her lip, the sound of her sharp gasp filled the room.

“Do you need me, Yeji ?”

“Please,” she whispered, trembling slightly as Ryujin teased her again.

Ryujin’s face was inches from hers, again, and all the thoughts that she had been pushing away came rushing back into her head, because if Yeji had leaned up, just a bit, she might have been able to brush her lips against her own-

The thought made her shut her eyes, tightly, one of her hands coming up to Ryujin’s hips, pulling the younger woman weakly, desperately down into her.

Ryujin tsked slightly, slapping her hand away.

“That wasn’t very good, Yeji-yah. Are you getting impatient for me?”

Tears pricked the corners of Yeji’s eyes as she looked up into Ryujin’s dark brown ones, and though it wasn’t uncommon, in this setting, she felt a little too out of control, the thought of those pink lips flashing into her mind again.

Don’t want what you can’t have, she tried to tell herself, futilely, as always.

And Yeji couldn’t speak, suddenly, so she took Ryujin’s hand instead, tugging it to press the tips of the leader’s fingers into the brand in her hip, hissing with the pain of it. It was almost healed, now, but still sore, still enough to hurt, a bit.

“Want to be yours , Jin-ah,” she managed, her tone choked and entirely too emotional, though she couldn’t help it.

She expected her hand to be slapped away again, perhaps for her to be punished for her impatience and impertinence, and the thought made her eyes sting once more.

But something in her expression, again, seemed to make Ryujin give in, pushing into her in one fluid motion, the mixture of the saliva still clinging to the toy and Yeji’s own wetness more than enough of a lubricant.

Yeji let out a loud moan of mingled pleasure and pain as the leader set a harsh rhythm, her hand still pressed against the brand in her hip, and when her nails bit down into the skin again a few minutes later Yeji couldn’t help but cry out.

“ Ryu -”

“Too much?” Ryujin asked, carefully, though the way her breathing was labored, still keeping up a hard rhythm made Yeji’s stomach twist.

“No- no,” Yeji gasped, seeing stars as Ryujin’s nails slid over the raw scar again. “God, fuck- don’t stop, don’t- Ryujin-ah, can you-?”

“Can I?” Ryujin repeated, confused but her eyes never leaving Yeji’s flushed, ruined face.

Yeji whimpered in frustration, nearly unable to speak again, because it was so fucking good , but she didn’t want to come yet, even though she was already halfway there by watching Ryujin’s own pleasure, and she wanted to-

“Want to watch you- watch you come, again,” she managed, her hands coming up to clasp on Ryujin’s shoulders, shakily, pulling her closer, deeper, more, always more, never enough-

“Can you- like this, can you-”

“Fuck- shit, Yeji-yah, okay, okay, I can try to-”

Yeji couldn’t help the way her head tilted back, her mouth opening in a moan as Ryujin adjusted her pace, her rhythm, gritting her teeth as she slammed into Yeji, hard, again, and again.

It wasn’t like Yeji hadn’t noticed how the use of their toy seemed to affect the shadow-haired woman, but she had never asked for this before, too afraid of crossing a line. Now, though, she wished she had asked weeks ago, wished Ryujin would have fucked her like this for ages before and would keep doing it for as long as they both could, because fuck , the way Ryujin’s eyes fluttered, the way she groaned and panted and sometimes even fucking whimpered , high and broken, in Yeji’s ear, against her skin-

“You’re so- fuck, baby , you’re so good -” Ryujin managed- how, Yeji didn’t know, but her grip on Yeji’s hip was becoming so deliciously painful that she felt the tears build up in her eyes, and she told herself that it was out of pleasure more than anything else. “So good, take me so fucking well-”

Yeji could only spread her legs wider in response, and the sound of it all was filthy but all she could focus on, all she could think of was the way Ryujin sounded, and she was close, Yeji could tell, and when she let out another ragged, high moan, Yeji couldn’t help it-

“Jin-ah, I’m going to- fuck -”

Her back nearly arched off the bed, if Ryujin wasn’t holding her down, keeping her in place while she fucked in and out of her, again and again, seemingly unable to look away as Yeji surrendered to the peak of her pleasure, finally, with a cry.

“ Ryujin- ”

“Fuck- fuck, Yeji-yah, you’re so- I can feel it, fuck, you’re so-”

But whatever she was, however good she looked or tight she felt, Yeji wouldn’t know, because then Ryujin’s movements became more desperate, the rhythm breaking down again, as she broke down, too, coming undone so beautifully that tears finally fell from Yeji’s eyes.

“ Yeji- ”

“Ryujin-ah,” was all she could manage, fucked-out and panting, soaking in every minute of Ryujin twitching and rutting against her, lost and found again and so, so beautiful.

“Ryujin-ah,” she said again, when Ryujin had stilled, had slumped against her, her breathing labored. “Jin-ah. So pretty-”

Yeji wasn’t sure what was okay, or what wasn’t, so she made herself quiet again, but she let her hands rest against Ryujin back, holding her, just for a moment, under the guise of keeping them both steady.

“Fuck,” Ryujin swore finally, and it made them both giggle, a little, heat-drunk and giddy in the aftermath. “ Fuck , Yeji-yah, that was- that was- sorry, let me-”

Yeji found herself shaking her head in disagreement when the other woman moved to pull out of her, carefully yet shakily.

“Stay,” she whispered, dazed and flushed, and Ryujin froze. “Stay- stay in, for a second. Please.”

“Good manners,” Ryujin said slowly, still gazing at her as she pressed herself forwards, tucking her head against the shadow-haired woman’s chest, desperately avoiding looking at her face, where those perfect, soft lips were. “Good girl.”

Yeji felt herself clench, just a bit, at the words, the last dregs of the orgasm. She whimpered weakly in response, trying to press even closer.

Ryujin chuckled, softly, settling down on top of her gingerly, and it was the closest thing to cuddling they had ever done and would probably ever do, and Yeji felt her heart cry out, silently in her chest.

“You’re so pretty, too. And so needy, Yeji-yah.”

Yeji flinched, and made to shift away, her heart sinking, but Ryujin’s arm came around to hold her close, hold them together.

“I don’t mind, baby. It’s cute that you’re like this- you took me so well, too. Came so well for me.”

“That was all you,” Yeji said quietly, as if somehow, it was another of their secrets. “You were so-”

She couldn’t bring herself to finish that sentence, even though Ryujin’s cheeks went a little pinker.

“I liked being good for you,” Yeji said instead, nestling further into the other woman’s chest, still not brave enough to look up into her face as she stilled. “Earlier. I liked it- I always like it.”

Ryujin’s hand trailed down to hover questioningly over her brand, and her skin felt hot there, as if awaiting her touch. 

“And this? You liked this?”

Yeji’s face burned as she nodded, against Ryujin’s chest. 

“Because of the pain?”

“A little,” she admitted quietly. “But it feels good when you touch it, too. And it reminds me of all of us- it’s a little comforting, it makes me remember how glad I am to be here. Is that weird, too?”

She tried to add some lightness to her tone, a little bit of worry rising in her at her own indiscretion, but it was all true. She was always honest, when they were like this.

“I don’t think so,” Ryujin responded quietly, after a short pause. “I feel that way, too.”

“I liked it because it’s yours,” Yeji whispered, because the part of her that had been feeling so exposed lately couldn’t be held back anymore, not with Ryujin still inside her, Ryujin allowing her to rest against her, skin to skin, almost close enough to feel her heartbeat.

Almost.

She looked up, finally, into Ryujin’s infinite brown eyes.

“I like being yours. Not like how I was yours, before, though- different.”

The way I am now.

A small crease appeared between Ryujin’s eyebrows, but she nodded. She seemed to hesitate for a moment, before taking one of Yeji’s hands in her own and guiding it down, lower, to rest on her own hip, the slightly faded scar that had been branded onto her skin years before.

It was warm and bumpy to the touch, and Yeji inhaled softly at the feeling of it.

“Ryujin-ah…”

Their hands stayed together, even when Ryujin spoke again, minutes or maybe hours later, after she finally, gently, pulled out of Yeji, stroking her hair softly when she whimpered at the small spark of pain it caused, and lay down next to her to say, softly, the words flowing gently from those torturous, unattainable lips: tell me something.

Still. As much as Yeji told Ryujin, as many of the secrets she kept closest to her soul spilled over onto the sheets between them, she would of course never tell her the secret . 

She drifted between compartmentalization, and living in an expansive pool of gray, everything swirling together.

There were some truths, there.

Yeji liked being part of Ryujin . She cared for the others. She cared for Shin Ryujin, in some way, that she tried not to think about too hard.

But the past catches up with you. Always. Yeji knew that, all too well, and she still cared about her old life, back-

Home?

That was how things went. She would think about it, when she couldn’t stand not thinking about it anymore, until she hit some sort of block. 

She would go on runs, help Lia in the clinic, pick up Chaeryeong, because Chaeryeong was indeed letting her now, even if her shoulder was sometimes bloody and she was usually just going to or from the warehouse. And Yeji would catch herself losing herself in it, enjoying it, and she wasn’t sure what was fact and what was fiction, anymore, and she would tell herself from time to time that it was all for the Bureau in the same way that one told themselves gravity existed. It kept her grounded, tethered, although she couldn’t actually see or perhaps really understand it. Without it, everything would begin to float away, she would be lost-

But in the back of her mind, Yeji knew that Jihyo wouldn’t allow herself, or the station, to be ghosted for long.

She also knew that she should probably just reply to them, properly, not as vaguely as she had been, she should probably actually read the messages stacking up on the encrypted chat site, but she couldn’t, so she didn’t, and so she knew it was coming, some sign or message, one of Jihyo’s plans when the department head’s patience finally ran out, but still, she wished it hadn’t been what it was.

Son Chaeyoung, was what it was.

Yeji was out on a run, alone. One of the few, and honestly, she still preferred to be with a partner, because when she was alone she could never kick the feeling of being watched. Sometimes it was almost comforting, a little prickle at the back of her neck that told her that maybe Chaeryeong was keeping an eye out, but mostly it was unnerving.

On this occasion, it seemed, it wasn’t just paranoia.

Her buyer today preferred to have their face covered. It didn’t matter, really, it was the same setup she had done before, except instead of greeting her with Ryujin and a bow, as usual, the person pulled off their face mask, and-

Yeji froze on the spot.

The buyer- Chaeyoung, hair shorter, thick makeup, she’s here, how is she here - coughed, once, her face blank, but her eyes hard and intense. 

She had always had the eyes of an artist, an intense gaze; after all, she had roughed it for most of her life, had worked odd-hour shifts beside Yeji, had always been a strong partner to fall back on if the customers were too belligerent. She had been lifted up herself by Mina, her girlfriend, with a steady apartment and a mother still alive, working for the Resource Management branch of the government, and what the fuck was Yeji thinking about, what was going on, Chaeyoung-

Yeji closed her mouth. She hadn’t realized it had fallen open, but Chaeyoung’s expression told her that she shouldn’t be speaking.

“Well? Do you have it?”

Chaeyoung was buying from her.

Chaeyoung was-

A criminal?

No- no, Chaeyoung had never been one for drugs, even when she was younger, Yeji knew, so why-

Jihyo.

Yeji felt her jaw clench, and something like triumph and relief flickered in Chaeyoung’s eyes, as understanding passed between them.

“Of course,” she said dryly.

As she passed the duffel to Chaeyoung, she couldn’t help but wonder what the deal was.

Was this the station’s way of collecting evidence? Would Chaeyoung be protected, even if this was illegal, for her role in elucidating it?

But then Chaeyoung spoke, one last time, before she exited the warehouse first.

“Thank you. You should contact us again. We will need more.”

And then she left, and Yeji didn’t dare turn to look at her, realizing what her words meant.

Chaeyoung had been a messenger. Nothing more, nothing less- a low profile buyer, biding her time until Yeji was the one assigned on a run. Maybe it really was the Bureau’s way of collecting evidence, but surely to solidify it, they needed-

You should contact us again. We will need more.

Yeji found it hard to focus on the road, on the drive back. She had to pull over, breathing heavily, thinking hard.

Chaeyoung.

Why would Jihyo use Chaeyoung?

It fell into place, slowly.

The station couldn’t contact her directly, and as for a third party- if Ryujin and the others found out that Chaeyoung and Yeji knew one another, the ready-made backstory of working together at a bar would do, as it had with Nayeon. It probably wouldn’t even be questioned, this time.

It was brilliant. It was Park Jihyo, through and through. Maybe a bit of Dahyun, though she surely would have been hesitant to use Chaeyoung- she had a soft spot for the younger ones, though she would do what was necessary.

Yeji felt a lot of things, at that.

Mostly guilt. Overwhelming, crushing guilt.

Guilt, at dragging Chaeyoung into this, who probably agreed for both the paycheck and the worry of Yeji’s absence.

Guilt, at the feeling of relief that Jihyo hadn’t used Sana or Momo, and then a spark of anger towards Jihyo herself, for pushing this, for the reminder that she could have used Sana or Momo or whoever she wanted, probably. 

For the reminder of Yeji’s life outside the syndicate. Concrete, and yet changing- waiting for her, though it wouldn’t wait forever.

It was a reminder Jihyo must have thought she needed.

It did its job.

“Jihyo unnie.”

Dahyun didn’t yell. Not to her superiors. But the short, clipped tone of her voice, the way it practically vibrated with repressed anger, made Jihyo sigh, setting aside her files, because they were doing this now, apparently.

“I take it that Chaeyoung made it back alright, then?”

“When were you going to tell me?” Dahyun asked, ignoring the question, knowing that it was rhetorical anyway, because the only way Dahyun would have learned of Son Chaeyoung’s small mission would have been from the young artist herself.

“Tell you what?” Jihyo asked, forcing her voice into evenness, but it was starting to grate on her, the way Dahyun was looking at her like she did something wrong.

“That you sent Chaeyoung- our Chaeyoung, Mina’s Chaeyoung - into the field with no training -”

“She hardly needed training to follow a script, Dahyun-ah-”

“-it was dangerous, unnie, if the higher ups got wind of it-”

“I paid her well, didn’t I?” Jihyo shot at her, her patience breaking. “I don’t need to run every side mission by you, Kim Dahyun. I’m the head of the department, not you, so if I think that it’s necessary, then it is. No matter what you, or Mina, or anyone else has to say about it.”

Dahyun’s hands balled into fists, but thankfully she managed to keep it out of her tone, still.

“She could have been hurt.”

“She wasn’t,” Jihyo said, with an air of finality, pulling her files back towards her as if that would end the conversation. “Besides, it was either her or Tzuyu, and we need Tzuyu here. Sana or Momo would have broken after about five seconds.”

She probably shouldn’t have gone there, because something flickered in Dahyun’s face at the mention of Tzuyu, at the implication that she could have been ordered into the field at Park Jihyo’s whim, just like anyone else. Jihyo kept talking, though, driving the final point home.

“We needed a push, Dahyun-ah. And I knew you wouldn’t do it. You’re too soft, especially with the younger ones, and I’ll put up with it, but if we need something for the investigation-”

“All we needed was to have a little faith, unnie. If we had just waited, Yeji-yah would have-”

“Hwang Yeji has gotten us vital but unusable information, and nothing else. It's been months since she first infiltrated them, and with no concrete results, we have to go on the offensive, while we still can.”

Jihyo was right, and that was the only thing that kept the silence between them, following her words.

Park Jihyo was usually right, but she also believed that the ends always justified the means, and that was a fundamental difference between her and Kim Dahyun, who only gave her a nod in response, biting back whatever other concerns she had.

“I’m going to go check in with Mina,” she said shortly, though she still inclined her head respectfully, if briefly, before leaving. 

Yeji called Jihyo on a payphone, after a run with Lia, using her office number but a special extension that only few at the Bureau were privy to, and that even now she remembered, a testament to how well Tzuyu had drilled it into her.

It had been her last run of the day, and she had struggled to keep up appearances for the first time in a long while around the blonde, citing a headache as the cause for her absent behavior. Lia gave her aspirin and a concerned look, as she dropped the doctor back off at her house, and thankfully Yuna was out drinking with Chaeryeong. Yeji also used the headache as an excuse to avoid Ryujin for a night, although it made her chest ache instead to do so.

But this way, she could be alone, truly alone, and there was no prickle at the back of her neck, this time, nor anything else to unsettle her, though she still felt unsettled, anyway.

The head of the department picked up at once.

“Jihyo unnie?”

“Yeji? Is that you?”

“Yes, I-”

“Where the hell have you been? You haven’t been responding, we thought-”

Jihyo cut herself off, but the implication was obvious.

Yeji swallowed. She knew how it looked, after Nayeon, to have disappeared like that, to have been vague and flaky. Jihyo might have even suspected the confusion in loyalties within her, though Yeji was determined to play it off as a mixture of shame and reason. She had been thinking about it, finally, and decided to play it off as:

“I didn’t feel safe to contact you. Yuna said something that made me believe encrypted chats aren’t secure.”

She remembered the buyers, the throwing stars, the way Yuna had hacked City chats to expose them. It seemed so long ago, now- Yuna had used the very same phone to do it that she now used to flood Yeji’s phone with funny messages or cute pictures of animals, on slow days.

“Ours are safe. Tzuyu is the best of the best, and you know it.”

“But Jihyo unnie, she’s hacked City encryption before-”

“The chats are fine, Yeji-yah,” Dahyun’s voice cut in, smoothly, reassuringly, and Yeji felt another twinge of trepidation at the realization that this was a semi-public call. “Please, use them to keep us updated, we’ve been in the dark too long.”

She took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry. I’ll tell you everything now, then.”

But she didn’t. Not really. She just told them more of the drug runs, and the sex club, though she never had learned the name of it and hadn’t paid attention to its location, so it wasn’t exactly productive. She hadn’t found anything more concrete on the runs, and for some reason she kept the developments with Chaeryeong and the others to herself, because they were private- no, irrelevant.

It wasn’t like the meticulous, organized reports she had given so many times before. She was slipping. They all knew it, so perhaps that was why Jihyo sounded so brittle when she spoke.

“Yeji. I know that everything with Nayeon must have shaken you, but you didn’t- you didn’t do anything wrong. Okay?”

It was a lie, meant to provide her with comfort. It didn’t.

“How is she?”

“Fine, she’s fine. They aren’t watching her anymore.”

Yeji stayed quiet. She didn’t know what to say in response to that.

“We have-” Jihyo seemed to be hesitant too, which scared her. Jihyo wasn’t hesitant- she was exact, precise, and efficient. She wondered if Dahyun was gesturing to her, or something. “We have an idea of how to end this, actually.”

“E-end this?” 

Yeji couldn’t help the stammer, because-

There could be an ending? 

Of course there was, she knew, but… she didn’t know, at the same time. 

Could there ever really be an ending, after everything that had happened?

Did she want there to be?

She felt her mind fracture, a little, the gray bleeding together again, and was both thankful and terrified that Jihyo kept speaking.

“We figured out from your information how Ryujin’s getting her cover. She probably has friends in high places, but even without them, where it matters, she’s still in the shadows. Her whole organization is nearly impossible to track, but we think we’ve figured out how to… expose it.”

Yeji listened, waiting for the other shoe to drop. She almost wanted to hang up, now, hearing Jihyo’s tone intensify, the way it always did when she was getting close to her point, close to an answer, and Yeji was suddenly pretty sure that she didn’t want to hear it, whatever it was, her intuition that had been so sharpened lately flaring, a raw, sick warmth in her stomach, but-

“Shin Yuna. It’s all her, really. You’ve told us about her, the tech savvy one, but from what we’ve found, she’s- she’s excellent. Brilliant, even. Tzuyu hasn’t been able to crack into the dark web, not Ryujin’s side of it, anyway, nor can she find anything else on the other names you mentioned. It’s completely covered- bullet proof, so to speak.”

“But this Shin Yuna is just one person. And one person can be… removed.”

Removed.

Yeji swallowed.

“How?” was all she could ask, because if Jihyo was saying what she thought she was saying-

If Jihyo meant-

Jihyo sighed, and it echoed, both sharp and dull at once, like the final nail in a coffin.

“You know we really only have you, Yeji-yah. Even if we could get someone out there, if you tell us where she’s going to be, she’s probably covered at all times, especially if they have that sniper on board. Not to mention that her wife, or whatever, is a doctor. She’s only vulnerable with you- with Shin Ryujin’s inner circle.”

That much was true, but it was true because they were the only ones Yuna trusted.

Trust.

That word almost brought Yeji to her knees, suddenly all too aware of it reflected on her hip, and her voice cracked as she spoke.

“What about- if I can still find something, maybe-”

It was weak, even to her own ears, and her tongue was thick and useless in her mouth, because even if she could get them spreadsheets or proof or whatever else, she might have known the second that Chaeyoung walked out with the duffel bag full of evidence that it wasn’t enough, anymore.

Park Jihyo wanted blood, it seemed, as her revenge. Maybe she had all along.

“We’ve all been through it,” Dahyun said, somewhat quietly, and it was hard to detect her exact tone through the metallic filter of the payphone, but Yeji almost thought that her words were spoken through gritted teeth. “It’s not exactly- well, it’s not exactly protocol-”

“It’s the best way to get what we need, now ,” Jihyo cut in, firmly. “With Shin Yuna gone, they won’t be able to keep their defenses up for long. Tzuyu will be able to get us everything we need, and we can have them facing justice in no time-”

It was funny. Justice, from Park Jihyo’s lips, sounded deadly, all of a sudden, and somehow Yeji had thought- prison would be enough, for Ryujin, she had thought, wouldn’t it, surely they wouldn’t- Jihyo wouldn’t-

“-but the best part is, you can come home , Yeji-yah,” Dahyun was saying, almost placatingly. “You don’t have to worry about finding anything else for us, you can-”

“So- so, what,” Yeji choked out, unable to keep quiet any longer. “What, am I supposed to- to kill her? ”

A slightly tense, staticky silence.

And then another voice came in response, a different one, lower and yet colder at the same time.

“You didn’t seem to have any problems with killing Nayeon.”

Yeji’s breath caught in her throat, and stayed there. 

Jeongyeon.

She wanted to say something. 

She wanted to respond, maybe defend herself, even plead for forgiveness, or just say something , anything, but she hung up instead, the metal slamming together harshly as she flung herself away from it, bent double, and vomited onto the side of the road, the dying sunlight burning her vision in its reflection off of the cracked glass of the payphone booth.

In the polished, neat Investigative Crime wing of the Bureau, Jihyo whirled around, her face brutal in anger.

“Yoo Jeongyeon, what the fuck?”

The older woman bit her lip, her jaw set in defiance. “You heard her. She was talking as if she hadn’t-”

“You said you could handle this,” Dahyun cut in, outwardly calmer than either of them but radiating a sense of disapproval and frustration. “You said you were here as the head of Crisis Management, to guide us through it, not as Nayeon unnie’s-”

“Didn’t you hear the way she -”

“Enough, unnie!” Jihyo snapped, the honorific a formality that only made her harshness sting more. “This- Yeji- was our best shot. Our last serious option, and you might just have scared her off again.”

Jeongyeon snorted, still on the defensive. “Please. As if she’d disobey a direct order from you both. This is Hwang Yeji we’re talking about here.”

Her tone was bitter, knowing only too well how seriously Yeji took her orders, and she fell silent as another wave of anger surged through her, even though she knew she had no leg to stand on, here, that Yeji was and had always been just following orders, the same as the rest of them.

“She’s right,” Tzuyu voiced quietly. She had been silent, throughout the call and the fight, a wallflower, but she stood now and looked between them all, almost pleadingly. “She’s right, isn’t she? Yeji will, won’t she? And then she’ll come back?”

The desperate, blind hope in her voice was something none of the women could dispel, no matter how they felt on the matter.

“Of course she will,” Jihyo said, turning back to the notes she had taken during the call. “She barely even knows this Shin Yuna, really. Of course she will.”

The repetition of it seemed to soothe none of them, and Jeongyeon stood as well, striding out of the office without another word.

“I’ll talk to her,” Dahyun said evenly, and Jihyo barely nodded as she left, too, leaving only Tzuyu and the department head in the room.

“Unnie.”

Jihyo turned to look at Tzuyu’s wide, slightly watery eyes.

“You’ll bring her back after this, right? She really will come back, won’t she?”

If even Tzuyu was still questioning it…

“She will. I told you already,” Jihyo said shortly, eyes flickering away from Tzuyu’s face to hide her own unease. “You can go update Sana and Momo, if you like, with the good news. Actually- take this to Dahyun, first,” she added, pushing a file across the desk, and their youngest employee nodded, accepting it and vanishing without another word.

Jihyo sat back at her desk, sighing as she stared down at the phone.

Seeing Dahyun would calm Tzuyu, she knew, thinking with only a flicker of tired amusement at the way the two of them looked at each other and pretended not to. It was only a matter of time, with the two of them, really, though funnily enough, time was the biggest uncertainty about this line of work.

Shin Ryujin, she thought almost idly, the blurry photograph swimming before her eyes. You’ll be next, once you don’t have Shin Yuna’s protection anymore. You’ll be weak, you’ll be exposed, and I’ll have you, finally. You’ll run out of time, too.

Jihyo turned with another sigh to stare out of the window. The summer sun was still blazing as it set, and it was far past cherry blossom season, but she still caught herself wishing for a hint of Sakura, her laughter in the wind, the flick of her pink hair at the corner of her eye, her fault, all her fault…

And then we can all finally rest.

But outside of the City walls, on the cheap motel mattress, clutching a leather jacket to her chest so tightly that she might have torn the fabric of it, Hwang Yeji found no rest at all, that night.

Chapter Text

“Choi Jisu?”

Lia spun around, her heart jumping into her throat. She had been on edge all day- the clinic, Ryujin had promised, was safe, but still. She had seen enough of bloodshed in the past few months to set her on edge, and hearing her full legal name like that was enough.

But it was only a girl.

She had big, round eyes, a careful, bubbly smile, and was lifting her shirt to show a deep gash across her ribcage, presenting it like an offering. Lia vaguely recognized her- another of Ryujin’s friends, but too young for her to bother getting to know.

“I just wanted to see if you could help, unnie. Sorry if I scared you.”

“You didn’t,” Lia said brusquely, an obvious lie, but she gestured to the medical bed. “Let’s get you stitched up.”

She went quickly, still on edge for some reason, trying to match Yuna’s chatter all the while. She would realize, in time, what a powerful weapon seemingly mindless chatter and bright smiles could be, and would even wield it herself at times. Although Yuna’s seemed to hide nothing, if only the way she didn’t seem keen on watching herself get stitched up.

Lia was careful with her. A cut, right along the rib- it would sting, surely, but it would be fine, in the end.

“Thank you, Jisu unnie!” The younger girl chirped when she had finished, and Lia resisted the urge to laugh.

This teenager, whoever she was, hardly seemed the criminal type. Her eyes were wide and full of levity as she looked around the room, lingering, curious.

“Is this where you keep all the body parts? Oooh- unnie, do you have a brain I could see?”

Lia pushed down another snort of surprise.

“No, I’m afraid. The last shipment went out yesterday.”

“Oh, I know, I was the one who delivered it,” the girl replied calmly, striding over and throwing the fridge open. Lia winced, having half a mind to tell her to be careful or not to touch anything, but she couldn’t help a small kernel of surprise.

This girl was a runner? At her age, no less? She might have a gun on her hip, but still…

“Is that how you got injured today?” Lia asked instead. “Another… delivery?”

“Nope, that was some fucking jackasses who thought they could fuck with Chaeryeong-ah,” Yuna said calmly, though her words were venomous enough to give Lia whiplash. “It’s a good thing I got to them before Chaeyeon unnie, though. She always takes that kind of thing personally.”

She turned on the spot, suddenly.

“I have another run to do, though. Thank you for stitching me up, Jisu unnie!” she said brightly, even though she had thanked her already, bowing so low it was almost ridiculous.

Lia found herself biting back a grin.

“It’s just Lia,” she said evenly, returning the bow. “And it’s no problem at all…”

She trailed off, not knowing the younger girl’s name, which she threw casually over her shoulder as she left.

“Shin Yuna!”

Shin Yuna.

Lia found out from Ryujin, later, that Shin Yuna was going to be around a lot. The kid was capable, apparently. Lia didn't allow her mind to linger on it, though- she had work to do. They all did.

Many months later, Lia was having a bad day.

Actually, she was having a really, really bad day.

One of the deep freezers had broken, Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong were bickering, again, Ryujin herself came into the clinic with a stab wound and a stormy expression, and Shin Yuna would not. Stop. Talking.

She was getting treated for a burn wound- arson, apparently, taking care of a particularly nasty competitor’s warehouses while Chaeyeon took care of them personally, but it had gotten out of hand, and Lia could feel herself irrationally angry- that Yuna was hurt, too, now, that they all kept getting hurt-

“-and this morning was awful, wasn’t it? It's like, we’re on this run, and everything’s totally normal, and then, if you’ll believe it, unnie, the guy pulls a knife on me, and of course my gun’s all the way in the fucking car because I thought oh, hey, it’s just some whiskey, what’s the worst that will happen, and then Ryujin steps in front of me-”

“Wait,” Lia cut in. “ You’re the reason Ryujin-ah came in this morning?”

Yuna blinked up at her, apparently surprised she was engaging in conversation.

“I mean- yeah, the guy stabbed her, but I took care of him after, Lia unnie, don’t worry-”

“Unbelievable,” Lia growled, and her voice was probably a bit harsher than was warranted, but fuck, to have one of them injured because of Yuna’s stupid, childish lack of consideration-

She turned away, before she started yelling, only murmuring bitterly as she put her tools away.

“This is why we shouldn’t hire fucking kids.”

She turned around with an IV drip ready, but was startled to find Yuna wearing an expression she had never seen on her before.

It was unguarded, and hurt, with none of the levity that usually decorated her features.

She almost felt bad, but then Yuna flinched at the sight of the needle of the IV drip, and she felt another wave of exasperation.

“Seriously? You’re afraid of fucking needles ? What next, are you-”

Whatever she had been about to say was cut off, as Yuna pushed herself off the medical bed, and without a single word or goodbye, left.

They didn’t talk for weeks.

Actually, Lia didn’t even see her for weeks. Even Ryujin seemed concerned about it- apparently, Yuna had been going to Chaeyeon to patch her up.

“The fuck did you even do?” Chaeyeon asked, not-so-eloquently, when she and Ryujin found time to corner Lia in a lull between surgeries.

Lia bit her lip, stripping her hands of her gloves and accepting a coffee from Ryujin with a look of gratitude- a peace offering, she knew.

She had felt bad, when Yuna had left- but really, she found herself thinking scathingly. She would have thought someone of their stock would have thicker skin than that.

“I don’t know. Must be those teenage hormones, or whatever-”

“She’s an adult, now. Just because you’re a few years older doesn’t mean you’re such a wise elder,” Ryujin pointed out, and Lia narrowed her eyes at the younger woman threateningly.

“Whatever you did, fix it,” Chaeyeon said, her own eyes never leaving Lia’s face. “The girl’s had a rough go of it as it is, and we need her. Even if she smiles too much and has an ego bigger than the rest of us put together.”

They shared a small grin. Chaeyeon understood people, despite her bluntness, just like Lia did, and Lia felt herself relax, a little, feeling a bit more understood herself.

“Fine. I’ll talk to her.”

But she didn’t get a chance to talk to Yuna. She didn’t even know how to reach the girl, since Yuna had always been the one coming to her- she only saw her again a few days later, when Ryujin called them all out to celebrate their breakthrough into the black market.

“They say technology’s the future,” Shin Ryujin said, drunk enough to give some semblance of a speech. “I say, fine- let’s make technology our bitch, then.”

They drank to that, loudly and excitedly, because their numbers on the cyber markets were getting kind of insane, and Lia could feel the difference in how she didn’t seem to even worry about things like bills or where her next meal was coming from anymore.

“And the person we have to thank,” Ryujin called, when they had all quieted a little. “Is Shin Yuna.”

Lia coughed, having inhaled a bit of beer in surprise. She waited for someone to laugh, to call it a joke, but Ryujin was grinning at Yuna, Chaeryeong was wrapping an arm around her gleefully, and even Chaeyeon was nodding approvingly.

Shin Yuna? 

She’s the one who… did all of this?

Yuna was smiling, proud and a little embarrassed, but her eyes hardened when she met Lia’s shocked gaze, and she turned back to speak with Chaeryeong at once.

Lia tried, though. When they were all filing out to leave.

“Yuna-”

The black-haired girl raised an eyebrow, coldly, and fuck, Lia had forgotten how intense her gaze could be at times, when she wanted it to be. She had rarely been on the receiving end of it, but now…

“Yeah?”

“I- the thing is- what you’ve done, Yuna, what you’re doing, it’s-”

Incredible. Genius. Unbelievable. Thank you. 

“Not bad for a kid?” Yuna finished for her, her eyes still hard, before she turned again, catching up with the others waiting for them outside the door.

Lia stood there, frozen, before she shook herself out of it and followed.

Huh. I might have really fucked things up, she thought, still a little blindsided by it all, realizing that, as much as she prided herself on seeing through people, she had been wrong about Shin Yuna, it seemed.

She didn’t get the chance to apologize properly until nearly a full month later, when the Lee sisters came bursting into her clinic, thankfully during her lunch break, with a half-conscious Shin Yuna held up between them.

“She got shot,” Chaeryeong said, her face nearly as pale as Yuna’s, her voice breaking a little. “The bullet just grazed her, but- unnie, please-”

“Put her on the table,” Lia said quickly, tossing aside her granola bar, more than a little alarmed by the amount of blood that was dripping down between them all.

They did, but Chaeyeon straightened up immediately.

“We have to go clean up the scene, Lia-yah, but can you-”

Take care of her, her eyes threatened, and Lia nodded at once.

“I will, don’t worry. Just rest,” she added quietly to Yuna on the table, who seemed to be struggling trying to sit up. “Please.”

Yuna’s face twisted a little, at that, but she nodded, slowly, allowing Lia to get to work. Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong left, the older wrapping a firm, comforting arm around her shaken younger sister.

It was halfway through the treatment that Lia got up enough nerve to speak.

“I’m sorry.”

Yuna’s neck cricked as her head whipped around to look at her, her expression wary.

“I mean it,” Lia continued, pressing a bandage to her wound- almost all the way clean, now. “I was out of line. It’s not an excuse, I was just having a bad day, and I-”

“Took it out on me? That’s not the first time I’ve heard that.”

Yuna didn’t seem in a hurry to forgive her. Lia would learn, in the years to come, that Yuna had a fragile but deep sense of pride, something tender at its core, easily bruised.

“I’m sorry,” Lia tried again, trying to show how much she meant it in her eyes, her tone, and it might have worked, because Yuna looked away. “I’m sure you get a lot of shit for your age. But you’re one of us- I shouldn’t have spoken you to that way, and I shouldn’t have underestimated you, and I shouldn’t have mocked you for-”

“It’s fine, unnie,” Yuna cut in, seeming tired, suddenly, the fight leaving her face. “It’s fine. I’m sorry, too. For avoiding you. I just hate people thinking that I’m- too young, or incapable, or something. Because I’m not.”

“I know,” Lia said quietly, going back to tending to the wound.

It was all she could do, really.

“I grew up in a drug den,” Yuna said suddenly, brusquely, breaking the silence so hard Lia almost winced, if her mind hadn’t been sent reeling by the words. “If you spent enough time in there, Lia unnie, you’d get twitchy around needles, too.”

Someday, Lia would hear the stories behind the bitterness and the pain in her voice. It would make tears run down her face, would make her kick her past self over and over again, because Yuna wasn’t like them, she didn’t grow up with siblings like Chaeyeon and Chaeryeong, or friends that were basically family like the rest of them, and maybe all of them had rough pasts but fuck, how she ever could have thought of Yuna as childish or naive…

“I’m sorry,” was all she could manage, for now. And then:

“For what it’s worth, I’m kind of twitchy about- everything, really. Like, all the violence and shit. That’s why I’m usually just… here.”

Yuna’s big, brown eyes flashed to look at her again, but Lia was concentrating on cleaning up, determinedly, and only looked up when Yuna touched just under her chin, calling her attention and making something in her shudder, strangely.

“Well. Thank you for being here, unnie.”

Years passed. Some things changed; others didn’t.

“Again?” Lia chastised, and Yuna offered her one of those dazzling smiles that brought her a bit of notoriety in Ryujin’s clubs, her wide eyes blinking up at her innocently.

“Sorry, unnie. You know how it can be in the further districts.”

It’s her arm, this time, and she held it dutifully steady so Lia could clean it, the wound thankfully not deep enough to need stitches.

Everytime she turned around these days, it seemed, there was Shin Yuna- with a sprained ankle, or another knife wound, or just bloody knuckles.

“What the fuck is the point of you carrying a gun if you don’t even use it to protect yourself,” Lia grumbled, swabbing an alcohol wipe across the wound and watching Yuna wince. She almost wanted to apologize, but she shook it off.

“I can’t kill all of our clients, Lia unnie,” Yuna said easily, and Lia flinched a little herself. She still wasn’t used to the violence of everything- she preferred the clinic, still. Much less messy.

“How was your day?” their youngest member continued, maybe sensing her disdain for the topic, hopping off the medical bed and grinning.

She had been doing this more and more- conversation. Filling up Lia’s schedule with idle chit-chat, even bringing her snacks, sometimes, persuading her to take breaks. It wasn’t like before- she was talking with Lia, not just at her, now that Lia seemed more inclined to entertain conversation. Lia thought that maybe Ryujin put her up to it, but the other woman just gave her an amused shake of the head when she brought it up. 

But Lia found herself not minding, somehow. She allowed them to talk, and talk they did, until the blonde really did have to get on with her work.

“And I don’t want to see you in here again,” she said sternly, finally, as she always did.

Usually, Yuna would just respond with a giggle or a wink or a no promises, unnie!

But something changed, this time. 

Yuna’s expression changed; her eyes seemed deeper, suddenly, as she tilted her head to consider Lia, who found her mouth going dry.

“He was an idiot,” she said suddenly. “The guy that got me. Clumsy, too. I had to give him like, five openings for him to land a hit on me.”

Lia felt her brain slowly crash to a halt.

“You- what? Why would you-”

Yuna sighed, seeming both disappointed and almost as amused as Ryujin had been.

“You know, for someone so smart, you really don’t know what I’m talking about, do you?”

She walked forwards, slowly, purposefully, and Lia felt herself freeze, her brain still not working, frozen, off its rails-

“Honestly,” Yuna murmured, her eyes dancing. “I just wanted an excuse to see you, Lia-yah.”

Lia-yah.

“Why?” was all Lia could come up with, a little lamely.

Yuna sighed, again, taking a step back, and Lia was able to breathe again, though somehow, she felt oddly disappointed.

But then that smile was back on Yuna’s face, as if nothing had happened.

“No reason. You know me, unnie. I like attention from pretty people, that’s all.”

And she was gone but Lia could do more than splutter, which was a good thing, because Choi Jisu did not splutter. Not for anyone.

But…

Pretty.

Lia couldn’t help closing her eyes with a wince, as Chaeryeong brought the knife down.

The man screamed- it was grueling, slow work, getting him to talk, but Chaeyeon presided with a hard kind of ruthlessness, and Chaeryeong eager to impress, even as her older sister looked over her with just a flicker of something complicated- guilt, worry, pride- before turning back to the interrogation. Ryujin stood back, a menacing, omnipotent presence, just enough to make him really squirm.

They used the new warehouse, for this kind of thing. It would become Chaeryeong’s warehouse, but none of them knew it at the time, and Lia had to be there because this was the man who had been fucking with their organ profits, turning around and selling them for twice the price, and Ryujin insisted on a thorough extraction of his entire network, because he had been elusive for weeks but god , cutting off his fingers one by one made Lia want to be sick-

A hand slid into hers.

She didn’t have to look to know whose it was.

“Don’t worry, unnie,” murmured Yuna, so quietly the others wouldn’t hear. “It’ll be over soon.”

The doctor wanted to project an aura of unflappability, as Ryujin was doing so expertly before them, speaking in a low, almost bored tone, demanding everything the man had to give, letting Chaeyeon take a breath, but she couldn’t quite find it in her, and Yuna wasn’t judging her, just standing there, solidly, firmly, grounding her.

It wouldn’t always be like this. Sometimes, Yuna was one who had to do the interrogating- she was brutally efficient, and knew the cyber markets better than anyone, could ask all the technical questions. But right here, right now, Lia let her be the thing that held her up, just for a moment.

She had to close her eyes again when Chaeryeong threatened to push the knife into his ear, with a cruel remark about how hard of hearing he must be if he wasn’t answering their questions. Yuna squeezed her hand, gently.

Lia waited until she was back to the clinic to throw up. That much weakness, she would keep to herself, and she breathed in the calm, clean smell of disinfectant, hoping it would clear her mind-

“Lia unnie?”

She staggered around, heart racing, but-

“It’s just me,” Yuna said, holding up her hands with a grin, but it didn’t quite reach her eyes, which looked worried. Lia looked away.

“Don’t tell me you’re injured again,” she said, hating how shaky her voice was, and Yuna laughed, a little.

“No. Not today.”

“Good,” Lia said, turning to look at her, her breath catching in her throat when she found that Yuna had crossed the room, was standing only feet from her, and maybe she needed to conduct a self-examination, she thought vaguely, because her heart was pounding far faster than the normal rate-

“Because you don’t need an excuse to see me,” she said shortly, covering for herself the only way she knew how- by moving forwards, bypassing Yuna politely, and opening the door for her. “I need to get back to work, though, so if you can-”

Yuna’s hand caught her wrist, halting her, and though her skin felt oddly warm where they touched, the rest of her felt frozen. When the black-haired woman spoke, however, her voice was soft, almost shy.

“Not yet. Don’t go yet, unnie. If you- if you don’t mind, if I don’t need an excuse- do you want to have lunch, together?”

“I’m not hungry,” Lia found herself saying, and it was true- her stomach felt like it was full of dead worms, with what she had just seen in the warehouse, the way her friends had looked unrecognizable for a moment…

Yuna made her eat, anyway. It was hard to resist, with the younger woman insisting she was in the mood for ramen, and to hot, savory broth smelled so good that Lia managed to choke down a few mouthfuls, and Yuna’s glowing smile of relief made her eat some of the noodles, if only to avoid looking at it.

It was friendly, she told herself firmly. She had done the same many times with the others, of course, suddenly feeling a little guilty that she hadn’t ever been out with their youngest, most brilliant member one-on-one like this, and atoned for it by letting Shin Yuna ask her to lunch again, and then to drinks, and then Yuna was convincing her to go on a ride on her motorbike, her very first model that Chaeyeon had bought her for some unfathomable reason, and she would never do it again because it was dangerous and plain stupid, but the sound of Yuna’s laughter, the wind whipping by the both of them as Lia clung desperately to her, her heart thundering in her chest, made it worth it, somehow.

Lia was drunk, when they first kissed. 

She was drunk enough to match Yuna, it seemed, who was usually an almost comedic level of lightweight, but Yuna’s hands were steady, they had to be, because they were the only thing holding Lia up as Yuna’s lips travelled down to her neck, biting and sucking and coaxing a moan out of her, and Lia felt her brain going into overdrive, felt herself thinking what the fuck do you think you’re doing-

“So pretty, Lia-yah,” Yuna murmured, and those hands were slipping under her shirt, and she gasped as she felt sharp nails drag across the sensitive skin there, fingertips rubbing at her nipples, effectively tearing her inhibitions to tiny, paper-thin shreds.

The word pretty made her stomach twist and something hot inside her roar, thinking back to when Yuna had said, flippantly, that she liked attention from pretty people , but the way Yuna was saying the word now was almost reverent, as if there couldn’t be another person in the world she was speaking to.

“So pretty,” the black-haired woman said again, softly, and then before Lia could say anything, could manage to make more than a choked sort of whimper, Yuna’s hands were going down, down, down, and it was all Lia could do to hold on, to let her cries be stifled in Yuna’s lips, but they soon joined her hands and then Lia had to surrender to letting her sounds of pleasure fill up the hot, intoxicating night air, helpless under Shin Yuna’s touch, her triumphant grin, her sparkling, drowning brown eyes-

She woke up hungover.

They had that whole awkward conversation, the whole this probably wouldn’t be best for the group thing, and Lia tried to ignore how Yuna seemed to be steeling herself during the whole duration of it, nodding unsmilingly.

But it happened again. And again.

And then Lia pretty much gave into it.

She knew people had their weaknesses- it was pretty much her job, to figure out the weaknesses of others- and although Chaeyeon raised an eyebrow at her when she went red at the way Yuna winked at her in goodbye, after one of their dinners all together, none of the others seemed to notice.

So she let Shin Yuna be her weakness.

She soon realized, though, that things were a little too one sided for her taste, and so one night, once she had managed to recover from the bliss that was riding Yuna’s face until her limbs felt like jelly, she moved to touch her.

Yuna froze, so Lia did, too.

“Is it- did I do something wrong?” she said, guilt surging through her at the sudden tension in Yuna’s form, but the younger woman only shook her head, her smile becoming a little more fixed, wavering slightly.

“It’s nothing. But you don’t have to do that, princess. I’m fine like this.”

She had taken to calling Lia princess, when they were alone. It always made Lia a blushing mess, though she refused to be distracted, trying to choose her words carefully.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to, Yuna-yah. It’s just- I’m not offering because I feel like I have to. I’m offering because I want to,” she said slowly. “No pressure, though,” she added quickly, suddenly feeling a little self-conscious. “We can just, like, get showered and ready to go, I think Chaeryeong-ah was craving japchae, so we can-”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” Yuna cut in, for which Lia was grateful, because she never rambled, unless it was on purpose; Yuna was the exception to many things, it seemed. “I just- I haven’t, before.”

It took a second for Lia to realize what she meant, and when she did, she sat bolt upright, her eyes wide.

“Yuna-”

“It’s okay, Lia-yah, it’s okay,” Yuna said at once, raising a hand to try to stop her thoughts from careening out of control. “You didn’t know, it’s fine-”

“But- was our first time… your first time, too?” Lia blurted, unable to help herself. 

Yuna’s eyes seemed to shutter, a little.