Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The rules this time:

• requests can be any pairing/relationship (romantic, platonic, enemies, rivals, siblings, you name it) - but only wanting a single main character or different pov’s of the entire group is also fine
• please name at least a scene or a feeling you want the story to have (so not just ‘write prompt XX’ and nothing else)
• Every prompt will have a limited number of times it can be used for a request. If the prompt has been crossed out like this, it means it’s not available anymore.
• no smut (Kissing and hinting at sexual themes is something I can write, but I won’t go explicit.)
• ALWAYS state if you want canon-compliant (= they’re idols in our universe) or an au (let me at least know what kind, like superheroes, hybrids, coffee shop, college, space, fantasy, etc.)
• Continuation requests for earlier works or requests are definitely allowed! This means that even if you’ve requested before in the same year, you can always return to ask for more fluff, comfort or a whole new part to an existing story. Those kinds of requests are some of the most fun!
• Multiple requests from one person are allowed (but please not more than two at one time, okay? I want to give as many people the chance to request as possible)
• anon requests are allowed<3
• no permanent character deaths (but temporary, seeming or close-deaths are possible)
• I like to stay with either happy endings or open endings, so if you have a preference for something, please tell me. Sad endings are open for debate but will not be my standard go-to.
• please stay respectful (and don’t assume I will write stuff for you, it’ll always be my choice to do so or not)
• and last but not least: if your request is too brief (e.g. by not specifying anything or only naming characters and nothing else) or if it goes too far (this one is tricky, so I’ll definitely communicate it to you if it’s the case) I can always decline a request. You are always welcome to request something else after, of course, but please keep it polite <3

Prompts:

1. ”Please don’t cry.”
   Lamb to the Slaughter | Ceremony | Beg For Forgiveness
2. "You've got a lot of nerve to dredge up all my fears."
   Prophecy | Sewer | Taking Accountability
3. "I look in people's windows, transfixed by rose golden glows."
   Isolation | Candlelight | Found Family
4. "Don't be scared, I've done this before."
   Non-human Whumper | Iron Rod | Loss of Powers
5. "My panic's at the ceiling, But I'm face down on the carpet."
   Quivering | Dream Journal | Phobia
6. "No grave can hold my body down."
   Caught in a Net | Medical Restraints | Pinned to The Wall
7. "Tell me that you're okay and I'm fine."
   Trapped with the Enemy | Elevator | Pushed Beyond Breaking Point
8. “Oh horror, oh horror, what did you see?"
   Self-Inflicted Injury | Held at gunpoint | Dissociation
9. "We'll make it alright to come undone."
   Touch | Flashbacks | Scalding
10. "There's nothing you can ever say, nothing you can ever do."
    Without Consent | Secrets | Deal With The Devil
11. "Can you get through all the pain inside you?"
    Hidden Injury | Laceration | Forced Reveal
12. "It'll all be for nothing."
    Cardiac Arrest | Sacred Place | Withholding Medical Treatment
13. "How dull it is to pause, to make an end, to rust unburnished."
    Never Enough | Insignia | Forced Retirement
14. "In the end it's worthwhile."
    Ignoring An Illness | Body Bag | Wounded Caretaker
15. "You can take a break, if you just tell me that it hurts."
    Failed Rescue Attempt | Body Part in the Mail | Live-Streamed Torture
16. "I've had the rug pulled beneath my feet."
    Repressed Trauma | Permanent Marker | Disorientation
17. "Tell me there's a hope for me."
    Internal Bleeding | Coma | Redemption
18. "As the world caves in."
    Dystopia | Ruins | Environmental Whump
19. "You were on your own, lost in the wild."
    Dehumanisation | Living Weapon | On Patrol
20. "That's new."
    Symptomatic | Fancy Event | Resignation
21. "Sold my soul, broke my bones."
    Kneeling | Makeshift Splint | Brainwashed
22. "All the battles I want to win, nothing matters but giving in."
    Self-Sacrifice | Collar | Hunted For Sport
23. "How'd I get to this place?"
    Intubation | ICU | Choking
24. "I must confess that I feel like a monster."
    Came Back Wrong | Painful Transformation | Amnesia
25. "Have you earned your stripes?"
    Lost Faith | Collision-Course | Left to Die
26. "Nothing like a relapse to rehash the kid who was scared."
    Relapse | Drawn Curtains | Power Cut
27. "Would you even want me, looking like a zombie?"
    Surgical Scars | X-Ray | Bedside Vigil
28. "I could always see straight through you."
    Backstabbing | Constellation | Creative Restraints
29. "I hope you see the sun someday in the darkness."
    Fainting | Broken Dishes | Last One Standing
30. "I'm putting my trust in an entire half-empty glass."
    Burn it Down | Mirror | Confrontation
31. "Even with the smallest cuts, you can still lose so much blood."
    Bleeding Out | Gunshot Wound | Rescued by the Enemy

So to summarize, a request should have:

(Required) Group/character(s)
(Required) Prompt(s)
(Required) Canon-compliant or au
And can additionally have:
Idea/vibe - e.g. scene, songlyric, dialogue, specific MV or photoshoot aesthetic, etc.
Desired relationship for group/characters
Preferred kind of ending (open/closed, happy/sad)
Anything else you want to add <3

Let’s make something amazing together💕

Happy Whumptober!

Chapter Text

There was nothing like the excitement of the chase. The feeling of the moon stroking his fur, the dirt grounding past his paws, the leaves rushing past his snout. Heavy, shallow, practiced breaths filling the air. Skittish, fleeting movement up ahead, his keen eyes finding it every single time. The tunnel vision. The hyper vigilance.

The Thrill.

Tongue lolling out, Chan ran. If he could have laughed in this form, he would have been all over the place with laughter, the excitement and happiness too much to contain. The moon cycle didn’t allow him to shift often, but when it did, he used every second of it.

White, there, in the bushes. His eyes zeroed in on it, becoming slits as all his senses tuned in on the steps he could hear in the foliage. Now he had him. The game was over.

With one grand jump, Chan flew through the air, over tree roots and crossing the distance between him and his prey with ease. His paws outstretched, he was ready to catch, to tackle and to end this game that had lasted well into the night. He hit his target with so much force they both tumbled along the path, his forward momentum pushing them further and further until they finally landed in a dry patch of dirt, Chan huffing and landing with his paws outstretched on either side of the smaller animal's head. Said creature was as white as Chan was in this form, their fur just as soft, their eyes just as wide and excited. In the light of the moon, their forms glowed together, their white the only light in the dark of the forest.

There was no fear or even terror in the ferret’s scent. Its eyes shone with mirth, its mouth opened in a happy yap. Chan returned the sound and for a moment, they breathed in the cold, frisk air of the onset of winter, small puffs leaving their mouths and drifting up to the full moon.

Only when the moment was at risk of dragging on for too long, did the ferret shift. Knowing what was about to happen, Chan leaned back, giving it space. Right from under him, the ferret’s form began to emit light, encasing its small body only for it to shift and grow, grow, grow until it had completely changed. Chan jumped away, yipping happily when the light dimmed down and a face appeared under the veil of brightness.

“You won,” the face said, tone dripping in amusement, “again.”

Chan let out a victorious little howl, bouncing against the figure and pushing them back against the forest floor. His best friend laughed heartily. When the last of the glow vanished, finally, Hyunjin’s face became clear to Chan’s sharp eyes and showed how there was a bright smile on his friend’s face. His chest trembled with his laughs, pushing Chan up and down like a small child on a trampoline.

“Okay, okay, you can get off now, you overgrown puppy.”

Hyunjin pawed at Chan to get him off, but Chan stubbornly pressed himself even harder down, keeping the other shapeshifter trapped and helpless.

Or—well—not really helpless. Chan would never dare actually harm his friend, and so that meant that when Hyunjin started tickling his underbelly, he was quick to roll away and let his prey go, letting out sounds that could have gone for laughter if he hadn’t been stuck in this form for now. Hyunjin pushed himself up, dry leaves sticking in his hair and dirt covering his back. He ruffled Chan’s fur with a chuckle.

“You’re a little rascal, you know that? Look at you, your fur’s all dirty. All that beautiful white, ruined.”

You should look at yourself, you look ridiculous! Chan yapped. Hyunjin laughed, quirking an eyebrow.

“And who’s fault is that?” He turned on the attack with both of his hands, scratching and tickling Chan everywhere he could. Chan writhed and wiggled, giving in to his instincts to turn the teasing into a tussle and bite at Hyunjin with dull snaps of his jaw. He and Hyunjin started rolling over the ground again, uncaring if they got completely covered in mud and leaves. They had the day off tomorrow, as they always had during the full moon days, and so they knew a good, long bath and a day full of relaxation would follow anyway. This was their ritual, the way they’d spend their time together for years now.

Chan and Hyunjin, an inseparable duo. Even their friends knew not to mind them during the full moon days. They’d emerge back out into the world after they had let out all their energy, but until then, their time together was sacred. With Chan shifted, and Hyunjin able to join him whenever he wanted, they spent their days together in the forest until the bond between them calmed down again. The moon, at its highest, made it impossible to ignore. Their link, their connection, their power. The way the moon’s glow strengthened them into something more than human, more than a single person could ever be. They became one, a duo bound by a silver, glowing string of fate that came from right between the stars.

And really, Chan couldn’t imagine his life without Hyunjin anymore. Having met in the woods, in the middle of a full moon like this and having almost—he wasn’t afraid to admit—killed him before he knew it was a shifter, Hyunjin had nestled into a place in Chan’s life with no intention to leave. That fateful night, they’d been bloodied, hungry and scared—the both of them. The moment Hyunjin had shifted and shown his true form, the moment Chan had realized the mistake he’d almost made, he made a vow to himself. To protect this person, to make sure nobody ever hurt him again like he had done that night.

The moon had been witness to his oath and granted them protection. The light had grown stronger, enveloping them and Chan had felt it—the promise of safety. As long as they stuck together, it seemed to say, they would stay happy. They would have the moon’s blessing.

Both creatures as white as the moon, as unique as the starry sky, as rare as the lunar eclipse. Oddities. Outsiders. Endangered species.

There was enough to need protection from, and this night proved it once more.

Rustling that neither of them caused made them pause, only their shallow breaths filling the air.

“You heard that too?” Hyunjin whispered between them, stilling under Chan’s paws. Chan’s ears pricked up, trying to catch another sound that didn’t belong to their forest.

There. There it was again. Rustling that sounded too unnatural. Too big. Too… human.

Chan’s body tensed in horror, his senses sharpening right as he smelled the distinct scent of metal in the air.

Hyunjin, move! he howled, hopping off Hyunjin to jump in between the threat and his friend. Gun shots rang through the air, whizzing past him no matter how fast he tried to be to snap at them with his teeth. NO!

Neither he or the moon were fast enough, and a guttural cry came from behind him. He whirled around, finding Hyunjin stumbling back with blood dripping down his arm. He cradled it close, face pale.

“Chan, watch out!”

Chan twisted back just in time to see the barrel in between the bushes and he dove away before bullets could drill themselves into his white pelt too. He growled loudly, a warning of war, before jumping into the bushes and catching whoever was hiding there off-guard. Nobody hurt Hyunjin and got away with it! His paws met flesh and he made sure to dig his claws deep into their chest, pinning them down on the ground and snarling in their face. Black covered them from head to toe, a facemask shielding their features, but those didn’t stop the drool glinting from Chan’s teeth to slowly drip onto the person’s face as he bared his fangs at them.

Nobody hurts Hyunjin, he growled darkly and opened his mouth further to go in for a bite. But he froze mid-air, the sound of a heartwrenching cry making him stop in his tracks. The person under him used the moment of distraction to grab another gun from their belt, pointing it right at Chan’s belly and firing. A sharp sting jolted through him and Chan howled, surprised by it.

That wasn’t a normal gun wound, it was a needle. One going deep. Instantly, a wave of dizziness flooded his system and Chan staggered, swaying on his feet. The person grunted and went to stand back up, but Chan was too busy fighting off whether had taken a hold of his mind to notice it. The world tilted and spun around him. His muscles were slowly losing strength.

No, no, Hyunjin! Stumbling back through the foliage, he came upon a sight he never wanted to see. Hyunjin was limp in another human’s arms, head lolled to the side with his eyes closed. A dart stuck out of his arm, clearly being the sole culprit to have immobilized him just as Chan was losing himself more and more. He tried to reach his friend, tried to push through the thick fog that started clouding his senses, but his legs were too weak. His joints gave out and he crashed to the ground painfully, a mewl leaving him as his snout scraped over stone and dirt. Someone tried to approach him again, but he wouldn’t let them. He might be weak, but the moon had finally broken through the trees, giving him strength and supporting him to stand back up. He arched his back, staying low on the ground and letting a growl overtake his entire body as he stared their attackers down. Light was coursing through his veins, battling the poison’s effects.

Let him go!

He jumped, his aim still a little off-kilter which made him only catch the shoulder of the assailant holding Hyunjin. The person screamed as his teeth tore through cloth and flesh alike and they dropped Hyunjin, the boy hitting the ground with a thud. Chan was shielding him immediately, growling and showing his bloodied teeth to the humans as he stood over his friend protectively. Nobody, nobody, was getting close to Hyunjin.

“Ugh, how is he still standing?” one of the attackers hissed. The other appeared from the bushes, gun trained on Chan, finger ready on the trigger.

“Doesn’t matter. We’ll get them both, just you watch. He can’t keep fighting the sedative for long.”

Like two predators approaching their prey, the humans stalked forward, darkness engulfing their forms like they were shadow incarnates. The moon tried to shield him, to keep him standing and to support him from above, but the humans were right. Whatever they had shot at him still zapped his energy, still weakened his muscles and made his mind slow down involuntarily. He didn’t have much time left before even the moon couldn’t help him anymore. He'd be helpless, just like Hyunjin. Then everything was lost.

He growled, getting ready for his last attempt at attacking. It was now or never. Their lives depended on him.

“Oh whatever, I don’t wanna wait any longer. Let’s get them now.” One of the humans materialized a thick rope from their belt, holding out in clear threat. “You are ours now, White Wolf.”

A cloud drifted in front of the moon and in an instant, Chan was on the ground, falling limp as all strength left him. He whined, trying to push himself up, but it was no use. The humans laughed darkly, the sound grating on his sensitive ears.

“That’s right. Now we’ve got you.”

“NO!”

A white blur flashed above him and the humans cried out as something collided with them and tackled them to the ground. Quick, high-pitched yelps and growls filled the forest as tiny legs masterfully circled all over their bodies, fighting, biting and scratching. Drawing blood from all over. The humans shrieked in pain, stumbling away from Chan as they helplessly swatted at their attacker.

Chan could only watch through sluggish blinks as the ferret fought with them. Hyunjin… he’d woken up. He was protecting Chan. How…?

Chan, you need to run! They’re after you!

Hyunjin let out piercing chirps as he jumped between the humans, never letting them catch him. His white coat was matted with blood even in this form, but he was still agile, nimbly evading their big hands and clumsy arms as they tried to get him off.

No, Chan wanted to whine, shaky paws searching for strength to push himself up. No, I can’t leave you…

He barely got a single leg under him before he collapsed back into the dirt, his snout pressed into the dark mud. Spots were dancing in his vision and he could feel the burning liquid from the dart poisoning his veins.

The world was fading around him. He wasn’t strong enough.

Chan, RUN!

With one last cry, Hyunjin launched himself at the eyes of one of the humans, eliciting earshattering shrieks as blood spewed from their face. The other human was fast and snatched the ferret from their partner’s face, holding the shifter by the scruff of his neck. Hyunjin cried out, writhing in the human's hold, but failed to get free.

The clouds shifted. The moon returned to them. It gave Chan the strength to stand on shaky legs, huffing in shallow breaths. He knew he didn’t stand a chance to fight anymore, but if he could somehow get Hyunjin out of their hold, if he could get them both to safety…

The moon shone brighter for a second, as if to say exactly what Hyunjin kept repeating too.

This is not your fight. You need to regroup. You will save him, but not like this.

The humans were getting closer. They had Hyunjin in a chokehold with no way to escape. Chan wasn’t strong enough. He…

He needed to run.

I will come back for you! he mewled. If he could have cried, tears would have already been streaming across his face. I promise I‘ll find you!

Hyunjin couldn’t respond, his air cut off by the hand strangling him and making his body weaker and weaker in their hold. His eyes found Chan’s, though, and they were filled with understanding.

Go, he urged with only his eyes.

Chan didn’t need to be told again. With the last of his strength, he turned tail and ran, emboldened by the moon’s power. The humans didn’t stand a chance at catching up, but he heard them chasing him anyway. He pounded through the forest, going as fast as he could. He stumbled every once in a while, either because of uneven ground or because his legs almost gave out, but he ran for as long as he could.

Eventually, the sound of the humans disappeared. He couldn’t run anymore. As the moon was weakening and the first rays of sun started coloring the sky above in orange hues, his strength finally gave out. He crashed into the ground, not even attempting to stop his descent. Without the moon, the fuzziness took over everything else.

His last thought was of Hyunjin and of what was going to happen to him now that he’d abandoned him to his fate, before that too, disappeared from his mind. He never saw the sun come up.

Werewolves weren’t a dying species, but they were rare. A minority among shifters, even when shifters were already a minority from humans. And a white wolf? That was too rare for almost anyone to have heard of it. There was a reason hunters had tried to take him, one that his parents and everyone he’d ever known had warned him about.

His white fur was special. It was wanted. It was dangerous.

That’s why, when Chan finally stumbled through the outskirts of the city after having walked the entire morning in a pained daze, he attracted quite some curious looks. Some were disdained. Some quickly looked away. Some gave him a wide berth and some even seemed to be considering calling animal services.

Keeping to dark corners and shadowy alleyways, he arrived at the house like a ghost. A shell of his former self. He barely made it to the front steps.

Weakly, he banged the door with his snout, too tired to lift his paw to knock. It took way too long before he heard movement inside the house, and when the door opened, the last of his energy seeped right out of him. Feet appeared in front of him. He barely saw them. A shocked voice called his name as his legs folded from under him and he collapsed, whimpering weakly. His eyes fell closed. The daze took him away again.

He woke to something warm and soft surrounding him, something cold touching him softly at one point of his back. He jolted at the touch, eyes snapping open as he looked around in confusion.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re safe now.” His eyes found Minho sitting beside him, a worried frown etched on his face as he retreated the hand with the wet cloth.

Chan let out a whimper when he dabbed at another spot, some of the water trickling down his fur and giving him goosebumps. Minho’s frown deepened.

“Chan, what the hell happened? Where’s Hyunjin? What… what happened to you?”

Chan couldn’t do anything but whimper, too overwhelmed with the way his body felt weird and unresponsive. The reality hit him all at once. Hyunjin was gone. He’d been taken. It was all Chan’s fault.

Minho dabbed at a particular spot, too late to realize that’s where the sedative dart was still stuck in Chan’s side. Chan let out a warning growl, his whole body tensing up like a coil. Minho stilled.

“That’s- Oh my God, hyung, you’ve been shot.”

Chan hissed, baring his front teeth. He felt out of control. His instincts were screaming at him to get away from the one who was hurting him, but he knew Minho didn’t mean it that way. He had to let him help. That’s why he had come here. He was a friend, not one of the hunters.

Forcing himself to drop back to the floor, he let Minho fuss.

“Okay, I, uh- I’ll try to get it out. Don’t- Don’t move, okay?”

It took everything in Chan not to shoot out and claw at the threat his mind still perceived. Minho’s fingers curled around the little dart, exhaling deeply and a little shakily.

“Okay, I’ll just- At three, I’ll-”

He pulled and Chan howled. He flinched away, hissing again, his upper lip curling back over sharp teeth. Minho just held up his hands in surrender, showing him the little, innocent dart.

“That’s why I said don’t move,” he said softly. “You’re okay now, hyung. It’s out. But… when did this happen? Did- Did Hyunjin-” He swallowed, seeming to realize he would not get a clear answer from Chan in this state. He sighed. “You know what? Don’t answer that. I’ve already called Seungmin. He’ll be here soon, okay? Just… try to rest for a bit.”

When Minho deemed Chan’s fur clean enough, he finally took the offending dart away, leaving Chan alone on what he now realized were a couple of towels spread out across the floor. His head felt heavy, and surges of heat and cold battled for dominance under his skin. Labored breathing was all he could do, his mind broken, his body useless. Against his will, his eyes fluttered, but he refused to sleep. He needed to wake up already, needed to be present and ready to go after Hyunjin. They had to save him. Every minute wasted was another one where the younger could get hurt.

Or worse.

Time warped strangely around him. He panted, battling sleep, until all of a sudden, gravel crunched outside. The doorbell rang and he winced, his ears too sensitive. He heard Minho walk to the door, opening it.

“What the hell, Kim Seungmin? What part about ‘come alone’ did you not understand?”

Chan didn’t even need to smell to know who was at the door. Everyone. For the first time in hours, a small bit of amusement flickered in his chest. Minho should have known. If you involved Seungmin, then his inseparable roommate Felix was bound to come along. With Felix came Jisung, with Jisung came Changbin and if everyone was gathering somewhere, Jeongin always seemed to have a sixth sense to know that he needed to be there too.

Even if he was expecting it, the sound of all those footsteps raised his hackles right back up, every single instinct in him screaming at him to flee before they could find him.

But these were his friends, and so he stayed. Seungmin was the first to enter the room, and he wasted no time in kneeling down beside Chan’s meek form on the towels. His hand found the fur behind Chan’s ears, scratching gently.

“Hyung, you didn’t tell me he was sick.”

Minho stepped inside, carrying another bowl of water. “Wait, he’s sick?”

Jeongin dropped down beside Seungmin, a small whimper leaving his throat seemingly without him even noticing. “What’s wrong with him? Why does he smell like that?”

“I was hoping you could tell us.” Minho put down the bowl beside Chan and took out a drenched cloth, folding it and gently laying it on top of Chan’s forehead. Chan shuddered at the cold, eyes fluttering closed. “It’s not like I can understand him like this, and it’s only the second day of the full moon. He’s stuck like this for another night at least.”

As the other boys surrounded them with scents of concern and worry, Seungmin nodded. He didn’t waste another second before he shifted, the familiar glow surrounding him and shaping him until a golden retriever stood in his place. A keening sound left him as he nuzzled Chan with his snout and sniffed.

Seungmin-ah… Chan grunted. Before he could say anything else, another flash followed and Jeongin bounded around him in his small fox form, cuddling against his other side and making another worried sound.

Hyung, what happened? Are you hurt? How can we help?

If Chan could have cried, he would have. As it were, he felt the need to howl, to wail for the moon until it returned and helped him get his strength back. To howl for Hyunjin, hoping he might hear it. To howl to hide the sound of his shattering heart.

I… Hyunjin, he’s- They took him, they-

He tried to tell them everything. The ambush, the poison, the stupid self-sacrificing choice Hyunjin had made that had saved Chan’s life. How he knew he was never going to be able to save him on his own. How he needed their help. They needed to get Hyunjin away from those monsters. Before they’d do something unspeakable to him.

Jeongin was a solid pressure against his flank. Seungmin kept licking his fur, trying to calm him down all through his story. Only when Chan couldn’t talk anymore, too wrapped up in his despair, did Seungmin shift back and tell the story to the others. Gasps of horror followed quickly. Changbin crouched down in front of Chan, his eyes burning.

“We’re gonna get him back, hyung. I’m so glad they didn’t get you too. You did well coming here. It must have felt impossible to leave him.”

Chan whimpered and leaned into Changbin’s hand, nodding. Even now, something inside of him felt like it was dying. Every moment Hyunjin wasn’t here, he was bleeding from the inside out. It wasn’t just their moon connection, it was more than that. Hyunjin was his pack. He was everything to Chan. He was…

He was…

He was his mate.

“Can I give you a hug, hyung?” Felix asked, lowering himself down on the towels. Chan nodded, and with careful movements, Felix leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Chan’s shaking form. He rubbed his back, fingers carting through the fur gently, applying just the right pressure.

“A group hug’s more than necessary right now,” Jisung joined in, a second pair of arms enveloping Chan. “God, hyung I can’t imagine how scary that must have been.”

“We’re gonna have to report this,” Minho said, his voice shaking. “The police, they’ll know what to do.”

And so it was decided. As everyone took a spot around Chan, quietly healing little bits of his broken heart by just their presence alone (pack, the rest of the pack was here, but not everyone, not the most important one-), Minho paced the room, talking on the phone. The smells of everyone clouded Chan’s mind, blanketing him. A little bit of safety had returned after so much pain, and now his body was exhausted. All his energy had been spent.

He dozed on and off, barely registering when the sounds of a car pulling up broke through the tranquility. Two officers, a man and a woman, were let in by Minho and his friends told them the story once again. He couldn’t pinpoint what it was, but something about them… irked him. He sniffed, tilting his head, his instincts flaring.

Nothing about their posture was strange. They stood, listening intently to Minho and the others. Their uniforms were neat. Their expressions open and serious. But something… something smelled wrong.

Only when one of the officers stepped closer, did Chan finally realize what it was. Wolfsbane. They had a small pouch of wolfsbane strapped to their belt.

He tensed, his whole body locking up. That stuff was practically poison, but only for werewolves. These officers weren’t safe. They thought wolves were dangerous, that they needed protection from them. From him. They shouldn’t get any closer, no!

He growled, low and full of warning, tail sweeping over the ground as his claws extended. His friends stilled and Minho stopped mid-sentence. He looked surprised, but quickly shook it off and came to stand between Chan and the police officers.

“I’m sorry, he’s still on edge. Don’t take his growling seriously right now.”

The woman had her hand on the same small pouch on her belt, as if ready to defend herself. Both officers looked past Minho, clearly not believing him. The human held up his hands placatingly.

“I promise, he won’t do anything. So can you help? We really don’t have any time to lose here.”

He successfully drew the attention away from Chan and the officers dropped their hands, postures still rigid.

“We’re going to have to search the site of the crime first. From your descriptions, we know what part of the forest it is, so we’ll send a group there immediately. Once we know more, we’ll let you know.”

“Isn’t there some way we can help?” Jisung asked. “Maybe some of us can go with you. We know those woods, we might be able to find their tracks-”

“No. You stay here and… keep him under control. We’ve already gotten several calls of a rogue werewolf around these parts. People won’t react well if you let him out again like this.”

Felix’s fingers dug a little deeper in Chan’s back. “He’s not a rogue,” he said lowly. “He hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“It’s only a matter of time,” one of the officers said. “So keep him in line or we’ll have to come back for him. He’s already breaking the law by walking through town like this, we won’t hesitate to call animal services if he breaks another rule.”

“Stop talking about him as if he’s not here,” Minho said, crossing his arms. “Just help us find our friend, and then we will keep silent until the full moon’s passed. You’ve got our word.”

Chan wanted to growl again, but he kept himself back. He’d not just spotted the wolfsbane, but something else stuck in the back of one of the officer’s belts as well. A stick, no bigger than a lighter but with a far more deadly purpose. A sound modifier. One that could produce a frequency high enough to immobilize any shapeshifter. That was no ordinary thing to have. Not even for law enforcers.

The officers left. Chan held himself still and silent the entire time until he heard the car leave the driveway. Then, finally, he let out the growl he’d been holding back, letting it reverberate low and deep in his bones. Seungmin whimpered involuntarily and Jeongin pressed his snout harder into Chan’s side. Even the humans around them tensed, hearing the anger beneath the sound.

They aren’t going to save Hyunjin, Chan said. They had weapons. Hunter’s weapons. Those officers were double agents.

Jeongin flashed, shifting back and letting out a loud gasp as soon as he could.

“Hyungs, we’ve got to get to Hyunjin before they do. Chan-hyung says those were hunters.”

Minho paled and Changbin cursed. Chan shook the wet cloth off his head and pushed himself up on unsteady paws. Minho met his eyes, something shifting in him until there was nothing but determination.

“Okay, then we’re going now. Everyone, pack what you need. There’ll be a long night ahead.”

The world burned around him. Or, more like it burned inside of him. His eyes, his head, his entire body burned, his bones on fire, his skin sizzling with the pain and warmth of the blood that streamed down his arms and nose.

“I’m asking this one last time-” Another kick into his stomach. He coughed wetly, a spatter of blood landing on the ground. “Where is the white wolf?!”

His teeth, covered in blood, showed themselves in a maniacal growl.

“I don’t know.”

Another kick, this one to his legs so they folded and left him crashing to the ground. The hunters loomed over him, figures clad in black, their attacks one with the shadows. He spat out more blood, the red landing on one of their shoes and painting dark spots on the leather.

“Tell us how we can get to him. We know you’re part of that mutt’s pack, so track him down for us!”

Hyunjin kept his mouth shut, clenching his teeth no matter how many punches and kicks rained down on him. They weren’t getting anything out of him. They were never getting Chan.

“Tell us where he is!”

The next hit got his temple and the world blacked out. The last thing he felt was his body sagging forward in its iron restrains, and then nothing.

The sun was setting. Boots crunched leaves and twigs as their group walked in a defensive formation. Chan was at the center, leading the way. He was the only one who still had Hyunjin’s smell, who knew where to go. Every step felt like he was burning, like fire was licking at his paws and his skin blistered and ripped apart like lava breaking through rock. One his one side, Minho steadied him and helped him walk. On the other, Jeongin was racing through the foliage, small form darting in and out bushes and trying to find the scent Chan was following but to no avail. They might all be pack, but none had bonded as close as Hyunjin and Chan had. None had the moon there to guide him, even if that presence was still weak. None of them were sick from separation.

“You still good?” Minho whispered to him when he stumbled over a branch. Chan bristled, nodding. He could do this. He had to do this.

A sharp pain shot through his head and he howled, tripping and crashing on the floor. The first moonrays had broken through the trees, and with it, an explosion of pain overwhelmed all of his senses. Everything inside of him burned, the flames only getting brighter and brighter and eating him alive.

Distantly, he heard the others cry out for him, surrounding him with questions and worry.

“Chan! Chan, what’s wrong?”

“It must be Hyunjin, he told me he can feel him!”

“How can we stop it?”

“Chan-hyung? Chan-hyung!”

Violent tremors worked their way through his body, but he grit his teeth and pushed through it. He stood back up, eyes pinned in front of him. He still had Hyunjin’s scent, he could still do this.

Don’t stop walking, he snapped and Seungmin and Jeongin jolted. He dragged himself forward, consequently pulling Minho with him and earning a yelp. The group dispersed, driven on by Chan’s stubborn determination. Pain wrecked his limbs and pounded against his head, and with every ray of moonlight that hit his form, it only got worse. But he bit through it. For Hyunjin.

Eventually, the thin, barely there string of the younger’s smell thickened. Chan’s ears shot up and he turned his head, zeroing in on it. There. Hyunjin was there. Panic and pain and sadness and everything in between wafted through the air, leading the way. Chan’s heart broke, but he still sped up, knowing they were close. Hyunjin just had to hold on. They were almost there.

Hey, guys, do you see that? Jeongin yipped, darting forward and jumping on top of a higher tree root. Chan followed the younger’s keen gaze and found something grey peaking from the bushes in the distance. His breath stuttered. That had to be it.

He stopped, causing the whole group to pause. Seungmin shifted back to tell the others that they’d found something over there. It looked like a bunker. That had to be it.

Like a trail of blood dragged through the mud, Hyunjin’s scent was everywhere. It swirled around the floor and Chan’s paws with desperation. Like it was calling out to him. Please, find me! Help!

Chan wanted nothing more than to rush in there and do just that, but he couldn’t. Not when he realized he heard heartbeats in there. Multiple, which meant that the hunters must be inside too.

Minho’s hand on his neck was a grounding presence, letting him know he wasn’t alone.

“We’re gonna need a plan,” Minho said. “We still have the element of surprise, so if we can keep that, we can overwhelm them and take Hyunjin back before they even know what hit them.”

“I vote we go in and knock them all out at once,” Seungmin said, eyes blazing. He bumped his fists together. “Don’t give them time to even scream.”

“What if we make a smoke bomb or something?” Jisung said.

“With what materials?”

“I don’t know, but maybe we can find something around here, things they left or plants that release a lot of smoke if we burn them…”

Chan tuned them out. He already knew how he was gonna save Hyunjin. Bursting in and taking out everything that stood in their way, no questions asked, no hesitation whatsoever. Jeongin also stayed quiet, his intuitive gaze watching Chan stare ahead.

Eventually, he nudged Chan’s side with his snout.

I know you’re worried about him, but you should at least listen to their plans, he rumbled softly. They’re kinda hilarious.

We don’t have time for jokes, Chan huffed, barely holding back a sneer. Jeongin didn’t seem to mind his tone, just cuddling up closer and tickling the fur a bit like he was trying to distract Chan.

I know you love him, the young fox said suddenly. That’s why you’re so impatient. But he’s our friend too, we’re gonna save him together, hyung.

Chan stilled.

I’m not- it’s not like that.

Hey, I’m not forcing you to confess. I know now is bad timing anyway.

No, it’s not… Innie, I don’t love him like that.

Jeongin stepped away and Chan almost mourned the loss of the warmth the little fox had given him. Jeongin patted to his front, large eyes beady but just as inquisitive as they would be in human form.

No? Are you sure about that? Wanna say that to Hyunjin-hyung’s face when we get him out? Dropping his sassiness, Jeongin nosed at Chan’s cheek. Please don’t lie to yourself, hyung. We can all see it. You’re hurting, and it’s not just because of the moon. You love him.

Chan let out a deep breath. I… I don’t… what if I can’t tell him? What if it’s too late?

It won’t be. Jeongin stepped back, virtually growing in size with how sure he straightened up. We will save him. No matter what, we’ll bring him back.

Then, Jeongin turned around and yapped at the group, cutting them off in the middle of their brainstorming. Minho seemed to read Jeongin’s tone the easiest and he sighed.

“It’s no use coming up with all these ideas. We don’t have much time. I hate to admit it, but I think Seungmin’s plan will work the best.”

“Wait, let me get my phone, I need that as a ringtone.”

Minho pushed past Seungmin without deeming a response necessary, and waved at Felix to follow him. “If we’re really gonna do this, it’s gonna be our job to break in. Think you’re up for it, Yongbokkie?”

Felix met his eyes with a hint of a smirk. “Only if I can take the right. That’s my best side.”

The group followed the two with baited breath, getting closer to the huge doors of the square bunker as they trudged through the high grass. The moon shone down on them, illuminating their path. Hyunjin was in there. Chan felt parts of his strength returning, though it came coupled with more pain. Every step he took, a new shot flashed through his chest, his legs, his head.

Hyunjin was hurt. Badly.

“Okay, on three.” MInho shifted to lift his leg and Felix joined him on the right, doing the same right in front of the door. “One, two, three-”

With twin battle cries, they kicked the door in, the old, rusty metal flying off its hinges and crashing down the hallway. Immediately, a loud alarm started blaring, red lights swamping the darkness and flashing in warning. Felix shook the dust from his leg, stepping away with a flourish.

“The floor’s yours now.”

The others didn’t need to be told twice. Seungmin shifted, and together with Jeongin and Changbin, they led up front, going into the darkness with a fake confidence they all tried to hold on to.

The enemy was on them in seconds. Multiple hunters came rushing from the dark, flashlights in hand, guns raised. They never stood a chance. Seungmin jumped the first person that got close enough, tackling them to the ground and knocking their head on the concrete hard enough to stop them from getting up again. Jeongin bit at ankles, people screaming because they were forced to the ground before they ever saw the attack coming. Changbin might not have had animalistic strength, but he had more than enough human strength to make up for it, and his fist went flying with so much force and precision that nobody had the chance to even raise an arm in defense.

In no time, the group hunters were down, groaning or knocked out, their numbers totally pulverized. That’s when Minho helped Chan forward, Jisung and Felix following close behind. They decided to split up. Minho and Felix accompanied Chan in their search for Hyunjin, while the others would spread out and seek out any other hunters left. Seungmin had sniffed some of them out, tail wagging as he urged the others to follow him. He sped away, Jeongin following, and Changbin and Jisung were left to run after them. Changbin only had the time to turn around for a second, yelling:

“We’ll meet you back outside when we’re done with those hunters! You get Hyunjin!”

So that’s what they did. Chan followed Hyunjin’s scent further into the lion’s den, every step further sealing their fate. The winding hallways went deep. They were dark, almost foggy with the wetness that came with underground spaces. Bleak lights illuminated the ceiling every couple of meters. Their footsteps echoed into the emptiness like the gunshots Chan kept hearing in his mind ever since the previous night.

After what felt like centuries, Chan stopped at a metal door, heavily reinforced and clearly locked from the outside. He stiffened. This was it. Hyunjin was behind that door.

“I got it.” Minho stepped closer, grunted as he pulled the pin out of the lock and turned the wheel until the grinding of metal stopped and the lock softly clicked open. “Be careful, we don’t know if there are any hunters inside.”

Chan nodded, ready to pounce. Felix raised his fists, also ready. Minho slowly opened the door.

The room on the other side was pitch black. Even with Chan’s heightened vision, it was practically impossible to see anything.

Until he stepped inside, and Minho made a little ‘ah!’ noise before suddenly, a single light bulb sprang on and the quiet buzz of electricity filled the room. The light was just enough to show how there was nothing. No furniture, no people. The room was barren.

Except for a slumped figure in the farthest corner of the room, blending with the shadows like it was an afterthought of a person.

Chan let out a desperate howl, rushing further in because that was Hyunjin. His Hyunjin, chained to the wall and folded on his knees in what must be his own dark pool of blood. Hands forced behind his back in metal mittens, he was stuck, even more so because of a metal collar that wrapped around his throat like a vice, a long, thin chain curving from the choker all the way to a metal ring in the wall. Labored breathing came from the shifter; the only sign he was even alive. He hung slumped against the wall, as if too weak to hold himself up anymore.

Hyunjin! Chan hadn’t even put a single step forward before a sharp, agonizing pain shot through his nose and immediately to his head. He crashed to the ground without warning, his vision blackened out by the force with which the pain hit him.

“Chan!” Minho rushed towards him. “Chan, what’s wrong?!”

“W- W- Wolfsbane…” Hyunjin’s voice stuttered, barely making a sound. Still, everyone heard it and Minho’s head snapped his way.

“What?”

“They’ve- They’ve got- Wolfsbane- In the- The walls-”

Minho sucked in a breath and Felix gasped. Chan couldn’t even react. The air was hurting him. Every inhale, every exhale, his lungs screamed, stuttered, burned. He was being killed from the inside out and worst of all, he refused to leave. As long as Hyunjin was here, he would take every inhale he had to. Hyunjin needed him. He was awake. Alive, and talking. It was the sweetest sound Chan had ever heard.

“G-Get him… get him… to me… we need… to be…close-”

“Chan needs to get out of here. Yongbokkie, you try to get Hyunjin free, I’ll carry Chan-hyung back-”

“No!” came Hyunjin’s weak protest. In the low lighting of the room, only his eyes reflected the light, two white dots in the shadows. “No, please… he… we… the moon, she’s… trying, but she… can’t help… if we’re not together. Please…”

“The moon can’t do anything against wolfsbane,” Minho argued, already trying to get his arms under Chan to push him back. “We need to get him out.”

Minho grunted, but his attempts went in vain. Chan was too heavy for a simple human to carry. Hyunjin whimpered, almost in tandem with Chan. Though they were only half a room apart, the distance felt like a canyon between them. It hurt. God, it hurt so much.

“Please… please, bring him… to me…” Hyunjin begged. “I need… Chan… please…”

“Hyung.” Felix came to stand beside Chan on the other side. “Listen to Hyunjin. We need to try. There’s no way I’m getting him free like this.”

“I… okay.” Minho gave up the fight far too quickly, and it was obvious why when he looked at Chan with such deep concern. He was just afraid. Chan was too. The humans’ hands under his torso hurt, but Minho and Felix managed to get him a little bit off the ground at least. Enough for him to put shaking legs under himself and take hesitant steps forward.

Only when he was finally, finally at Hyunjin’s side, did the whole world slow to a stop. The pain paused. The darkness seemed to retreat. Even the air, dusty and filled with danger, seemed to still, giving him a second to breathe. He stepped as close as he could. And since Hyunjin couldn’t move, Chan was the one who pressed even closer, pushing his nose against the younger’s chin and nuzzling his nose against his bloodied chest. Then, upwards, he touched Hyunjin’s face with a worried lick, before tipping his nose against Hyunjin’s, a giant sigh of relief flowing through him. Hyunjin closed his eyes, sighing too.

The pain lessened. The alarms in his mind quieted down. Like tiny drops from a leaking faucet, tiny bits of energy returned to him, making his limbs stronger, making his head clearer. Now that he was so close, he could smell the iron and dirt in Hyunjin’s hair. He could see the chunks of it clotting the strands. He could see the bruises darkening the shifter’s skin, could hear the shuddering breaths he still let out from what were probably busted ribs.

The moon wasn’t there, she couldn’t reach them yet, but it still felt like something was slowly healing inside of him. He whined, a soft, concerned sound and Hyunjin returned it.

“I’ve… missed you…”

Me too. You have no idea.

When he was sure he had enough strength to stand on his own, Chan gently nudged Minho and Felix away. He braced himself, before promptly snapping his jaw around the first chain and biting as hard as he could. The chain snapped after only a few seconds and then Hyunjin’s hands were free. The collar’s chain was next. As soon as Chan bit that one, Hyunjin keeled forward, landing inside Felix’s waiting arms.

“I got you, you’re safe now,” the younger mumbled. He tried to help Hyunjin to his feet, but Hyunjin was too weak and immediately collapsed back down. Chan grit his teeth and pushed through the pain that flared, offering himself.

Put him on my back, he barked. Hyunjin turned his way, surprised.

“But hyung, are you sure?”

I can at least get you out of here. Then the others can help.

“What does he say?” Minho asked. Hyunjin relayed Chan’s wish, and it was clear that everyone was far too wired to actually argue anymore, because Felix and Minho both helped Hyunjin on top of Chan’s back without any more protest. It was a heavy weight to carry, but this was Hyunjin. He could do it if it was Hyunjin. Having him this close was helping them both more than anything else could do.

Hold on. I’ll try to be careful.

“You always are, hyung.”

With slow, measured steps and Minho’s sense of direction, the group made it out of the room without any more problems and back through the winding hallways until they saw the spot of light coming closer again. The outside. They were getting closer and closer to freedom now.

“Hyungs!”

The moment they stepped outside, they stumbled upon a scene that had everyone sag in relief. All around the entrance, police cars with flashing lights were parked and hunters in black were sitting in little groups, all cuffed and beaten up. The other boys were standing proudly at one of the cars, Jeongin even waving to them enthusiastically.

The moon shone brightly, peaking out right through the trees above them. Her light washed over them and it was like a zap went through him and Hyunjin, a wave of energy and light hitting him and washing away any ailments and pain. He straightened up, feeling stronger than ever. Even Hyunjin let out a large breath, his weight on Chan’s back feeling lighter and far less pressing.

“Hyungs, you never guess what happened!” Jeongin ran towards them, the others in tow. “Two of the cops were hunters, just like you said! We caught them on their way to the bunker and right when we’d overpowered them, the real police showed up! They said they knew there were spies in their ranks and they’d been following them for days now. And look-”

Jeongin pointed to one of the police cars, where a group of scruffy people were gathered. Hunched shoulders, bruises littering their arms, scraps of fabric hanging around their legs and acting like sleeves. It was clear those were other shifters. People the hunters had captured and kept prisoner. They were free now too.

“An ambulance is on its way,” Seungmin said, now back to his human form. “Should we wait for it to take Hyunjin-hyung to the hospital?”

Chan shook his head without a second of hesitation. We’re going home, he yipped, no hospital needed. The moon’s helping us already.

Seungmin cocked his head, not seeming to understand him, but Hyunjin, ever the attuned mate friend, understood perfectly.

“He wants to go home,” he translated, “and so do I. The moon’s helping us heal. I don’t need a hospital.”

As he said it, Chan could see a faint glow coming from above him. Judging from the wide eyed stares Felix and Jisung were sending their way, Hyunjin’s wounds must have been glowing as they healed. Silver, just like the moon light. He sent a silent thank you upwards, no amount of gratitude ever enough for the blessings the moon kept granting them.

“Alright, then let’s go home,” Minho agreed. “Whoever wants, can crash out at my place tonight.”

“Sweet,” Jeongin said. “I call dibs on the first shower.”

That night, when everyone (yes, everyone, since no one had wanted to go back to their own places) had fallen asleep, Chan lay in a makeshift nest, a tiny white ferret curled up against his stomach. From the window, warm, soothing moonlight fluttered in from between the half-drawn curtains, casting the room in a familiar silver glow.

Chan’s chest rumbled with content. Hyunjin nuzzled closer.

They were healing. They were safe again. The full moon had returned, and with it, the promise of an always.

Always together. Always as one.

The morning after, Chan roused not because of the light of the sun now beaming down on them, but because of the cold. His fur had disappeared, leaving him bar naked and shivering. The sound of his waking grunt woke Hyunjin too, and the ferret looked up at his awkwardly curled body with a far too human snort coming out of its snout. Chan quickly grabbed one of the blankets from the nest and wrapped it around him.

A light surrounded Hyunjin as he shifted back. A grin met Chan as soon as he was back to his human self.

“Aw, but I was enjoying the sight…” he teased. Chan’s ears flared up red, even though hearing the younger speak in such a light tone was music to his ears.

He flicked Hyunjin’s forehead, earning a delightful whine from him.

“Hyung~! Rude.”

Chan chuckled, and promptly wound a hand around Hyunjin’s middle, drawing him closer until he was flushed against Chan’s chest. That shut Hyunjin right up. Now it was his turn to look embarrassed.

“I missed you, Jinnie,” Chan mumbled, his voice ghosting close to the shifter’s ear. He saw how his breath tickled the sensitive skin there and caused goosebumps. It made him smile sadly. He could have lost this. All of Hyunjin’s delightful sensitivities, his jokes, his temper, his life.

Chan drew back, needing to look Hyunjin in the eye for this.

“I should have said this years ago but… I love you.”

Hyunjin’s breath stuttered. Then, his wide eyes that conveyed all of his emotions so perfectly, glistened in the sunlight. A cautious smile pulled his lips upward, a soft pink tinge creeping along his cheeks.

“I love you too, Chan. It hurt so much to be separated from you. I never want to lose you like that again.”

His eyes seemed to say it all. Chan tilted his head, a silent question, and Hyunjin’s eyes answered. He blinked slowly, softly.

A yes.

Chan carefully leaned in, his lips brushing against Hyunjin before he actually brought the younger’s face closer with a slight pull from his hand on the nape of the shifter’s neck. Hyunjin shuddered at the touch, but soon he was completely melting into the kiss, eagerly returning it, lips moving and taking everything he could. Chan let him. It was all his and it had always been.

As long as they were together, they’d be happy. The sun and the moon would be there to witness all of it.

Chapter Text

The two lovers were still on a high when they arrived at the meeting for their next mission. Jisung’s hand in Minho’s, they stood around the table, their supervisor and colleagues all side-eyeing them for the open display of affection. They just couldn’t help it. They’d just heard their bid on the house had been accepted. After all of these months searching, of sleepless nights and of endless viewings they were finally getting their own house. A home, just for the two of them. Their life together was just starting, and this was the biggest step yet—only second after the engagement, of course.

“Men, focus,” their team leader, Mrs. Baek said sharply. She pointed to a building on the map. The hologram lines a stark contrast of glowing green against the black base of the table. “Megaverse’s next shipment will be delivered here and we’re gonna apprehend it before it can ever finish its journey to headquarters. The mob’s reign has lasted long enough. If we manage to stop them from getting their hands on these weapons, we might finally turn the tide and dismantle their organisation. They’ve terrorized the country for long enough now.”

“So what’s the plan?” Changbin knocked his knuckles together. “The good ol’ go in blazing and destroy it all?”

Mrs. Baek pursed her lips. “No, not this time. If even one thing goes wrong, we’ll have made permanent enemies of Megaverse and then the entire country will be at war. We as the government's agency have to avoid that at all costs. This time, we’ll make sure we won’t be able to lose by making it a covert mission.”

“So go in, out, and nobody notices,” Minho surmised. The team leader nodded.

“Exactly. I want one undercover agent, two tops, and it’ll be on them to secure the shipment and take it to a secondary location right here-” She pointed to a building two streets further. “The vans will be ready and waiting to take the weapons away and get rid of them for good. And most importantly: Megaverse will be none the wiser until it’ll be too late. They won’t know who stole it from them either.”

“If all goes to plan,” Seungmin said.

“If all goes to plan,” Mrs Baek agreed. Stern eyes looked around the group. “I need a volunteer. Someone who’s prepared to become part of Megaverse’s men for a couple of days.”

Jisung didn’t show any hesitation in holding up his hand. “I would be the best choice,” he said easily, his other hand still securely tucked in Minho’s. “I’ve done it before, I can do it again. I still have the badge from last time too. I can do it alone, no partner needed.”

Something uneasy stirred in Minho’s chest, but he refrained from protesting. Jisung was their best shot. He was the most skilled undercover agent they had, his stealth and acting rivaled by almost no one in the entire agency. If there was anyone who was going to pull this off all on their own, it was him.

“Everyone else agrees?” Mrs Baek asked them, as if sensing Minho’s internal concerns. Knowing how to be professional, he kept his mouth shut. It would only be for a couple of days. That was enough time before they had to start packing and moving. This solo mission would be an easy job anyway. Jisung had practically already aced it before he’d even begun.

“Then that’s settled. Han, expect the files and rundown of your mission on your desk after lunch. Everyone else, we’ll revisit this on the day off, make sure you block it in your calendar and prepare the vans.”

Seungmin pushed himself off the wall, scratching at the scar crossing the bridge of his nose. “Got it, boss. I’ll get on it immediately.”

“I’ll start preparing the disguises,” Hyunjin said from his spot at the table. He stretched his arms in front of him, twisting his wrists and pushing his hands as far as they could. “Ugh, all-nighters here I come.”

“I appreciate it,” Jisung grinned, “You haven’t made me look stupid yet. I’ll expect the same quality from you again, Hyunjin-ssi.”

Hyunjin waved at him idly, standing from his seat and sauntering off. Seungmin followed, muttering to himself about everything he had to check and prepare. Changbin gave a strong pat on Jisung’s shoulder as he passed, wishing him luck, and Mrs. Baek only offered them a cold nod before she disappeared out of the door too.

Then it was only Minho and Jisung left. Immediately, Minho softly tugged on their hands, turning Jisung his way. He met his eyes and searched them for any hint of insecurity.

“You sure about this? Last time was pretty hard. I don’t want you saying you can do this alone while you could have backup in there.”

“Aigoo, hyung, don’t you trust me? I can do this,” Jisung said, tone light and teasing. “Sure, I might return with soot and dirt all over me, but at least I can get a cool scar out of it or something. Y’know, a fun souvenir that’ll prove I survived the big bad wolf out there.”

Minho squeezed his hand harshly. “Don’t joke about that. Last time you were lucky. This time is bigger. You’ll be changing things, actually influencing their operation. If they discover you before you can get out…”

“Jagiya. Hey, look at me.” Jisung blinked and stepped closer. “I’ll be fine. Playing the rookie bad guy fits me like a glove, remember? When we met, you didn’t even realize we worked for the same agency until you had me pinned against the wall with a gun to my temple.”

Minho hummed at the reminder, before he allowed himself to smirk, a bit of his worry fading away as he remembered.

“That’s right, you were pretty good.” He took a step closer, slowly making Jisung retreat until he was standing flush against the wall. “If I remember well, you only broke your role because you thought I was too attractive holding you like that.” Without warning, he pushed against Jisung’s chest, earning a shocked gasp from the younger. Both of his hands slotted effortlessly on either side of Jisung’s head, completely casing him in. Minho’s smirk grew and he leaned closer, ghosting his breath over the younger’s face.

“Hm, I think it went something like this, didn’t it?”

“J-jagi-” Jisung gulped visibly, his head growing redder by the second. Minho relished in it. No matter how long they’d known each other or how much he teased him, the younger agent was still putty in his hands every time he flirted like this. It made it all the more fun to do.

He teased for just a second more, smugly feeling something harden against his hip, before stepping back and releasing Jisung from his prison.

“I trust you,” he said, dropping his cocky attitude. “You are one of the best against out there, Jisungie. I know you’re going to complete this mission with flying colors.”

Jisung almost sagged against the wall, a pout pulling his lips forward. “Jagiyaaaa, you can’t just do that and then say such heartfelt words directly after. I wasn’t ready!”

“Well, I’m not repeating them.” Minho shrugged, turning around. “See you at lunch.”

“Jagi…come back-” But Minho ignored the whining and left the conference room with a smirk still stitched to his face. His worries had dissipated completely now.

Jisung was right. He had this. There was no reason to worry.

That had been last week. Now, seated in one of the vans together with Chan and watching the camera feeds after days of silence from Jisung’s end, Minho couldn’t help but shift every couple of minutes from the nerves. The mission was almost done.

They should have heard back from Jisung by now.

“I’m sure he’s just too focussed on moving the crates,” Chan said, his tenth reassuring attempt in the last hour. “He’ll be running out that door before you know it. It’s-” He looked down at his watch. “-only fifteen minutes left until we’ve set the time of his escape. He’s still on schedule.”

Minho didn’t answer, eyes pinned on the screens like his life depended on it. He hid his heart going crazy behind a professional mask of collectedness, tapping the button panel with a manicured nail.

The fifteen minutes ticked by and still, nothing happened. The feeds were empty, their comms stayed silent. Jisung was nowhere to be seen.

“Give him another minute. Maybe he had to take another route to avoid trouble.” Chan didn’t sound sure anymore either, but watching was all they could do. They had to trust Jisung. If they went storming inside already, they’d blow the entire mission and Megaverse would definitely realize they were being robbed. Minho practiced his calm breathing, forcing himself to stay seated and not rush out there right then and there.

He twisted his ring around his finger, letting the weight and the promise behind it soothe him.

Jisung was coming. He was the best of the best. In no time now, he would appear on the feeds, grinning and maybe a bit beat up but overall fine, pulling the crates behind him with that self-satisfied smirk he always wore when he finished a job successfully. Minho and Chan would open the van doors and help him haul them inside, and then finally, Minho would tackle the younger in a hug before reprimanding him for being late. Jisung would just giggle, high on the adrenaline of sneaking around, and apologize for being so awesome.

They would return to headquarters, push their paperwork onto one of the others, and then Minho would treat his fiancee to a necessary spa day. Just the two of them. Finally a day for themselves.

None of the sort happened. Instead, after Jisung was already twenty minutes late, their comms crackled to life.

But the voice that came from them was anything but the sweet honey Minho was desperately hoping for.

“Waiting for someone, gentlemen?”

Minho and Chan froze, wide eyes going to the screens as they glitched and a wicked smile appeared. Megaverse. His trademark was only showing the bottom of his face, but even just that smile sent shivers down Minho’s spine.

“Well, well, well. Looks like I caught one of your little flies in my web~”

The screens cut to a different image, one that had Minho inhale so sharply, dizziness exploded behind his eyelids.

Jisung, bound to a chair with thick ropes, blood lazily dripping from his temple as his head hung limply against his shoulder. His hair was matted with dried blood. Thin shoulders peeked out from his torn shirt. Even his ankles were bound, leaving no chance for him to escape even if he would have been conscious. Minho cursed, fury flooding him.

“No-” he breathed, unable to take his eyes off the younger agent. A lackey with a black mask stepped into view, idly twirling a knife between their fingers. They walked to Jisung with purpose and Minho sat rigid, barely resisting screaming at them to stop. It was useless. Megaverse would only get more satisfaction if he knew he was breaking Minho from the inside out.

“Oh, oh. Looks like you didn’t even know his cover was busted days ago,” the gang boss drawled, his voice sickingly close to the microphone. The lackey stopped at Jisung’s side and pressed the knife against the agent’s throat. Jisung didn’t move, unaware of how close he was to dying right then and there. “What should we do with him? How much is he worth to you?”

“If you kill him, you declare war,” Chan said, tone cold and clinical.

“You already did when you sent this little weasel among my men,” Megaverse sneered. “Now I’ll ask you again: how much is he worth to you?”

“What do you want?” Minho asked, swallowing away the fear that threatened to choke him. “How much?”

Megaverse clicked his tongue. “No, no, no. It’s not so much how much I want, but more who I want. Soojin-ah is still working in your agency, isn’t she? I’d like to have a little chat with her. Y’know, like the old days. Just her and me, alone…”

Minho and Chan looked at each other. Soojin Baek. Their team leader. Chan shook his head minutely even though Megaverse couldn’t see them. They could never let their teamleader fall into the hands of this monster. Even if they didn’t know what their shared past was, they could hear from his tone alone that it couldn’t be anything good.

“I’ve rendered you speechless, haven’t I? I do have that effect on people. Oh, well, maybe a little incentive will make the decision easier for you~”

Without prompting, the lackey suddenly raised their arm, the knife leaving a tiny cut across Jisung’s throat. Minho let out a cut-off cry of alarm, but he still wasn’t ready for what happened next. The lackey brought the knife down in a clear, downward arc, the knife landing inside Jisung’s arm without any resistance. Even knocked-out, the younger’s body spasmed in pain and blood spurted out from the wound. Minho’s eyes blurred with tears and fury, his hands shooting up to cover his mouth.

“We will let Soojin Baek decide!” Chan exclaimed, sounding just as horrified as Minho felt. No matter the years of experience they both had under their belt, seeing one of their own get hurt was never an easy thing to get used to. “Don’t hurt him further! We’ll go and tell her you want to talk to her.”

“Be fast~” Megaverse said, sounding far too smug. “For every ten minutes she’s not here, I will play a bit more with this little fly. Let’s see how much he can take before he dies, hm?”

Minho barely held back a growl. His jaw tensed with the effort he put into staying silent. Don’t let him hear your reaction. Don’t show how much he means to you. He was a government agent, for God’s sake, he should be more composed than this!

“I’ll keep the livestream going so you can see every little game I play with the little fly~” Megaverse promised. “I wouldn’t want you to miss any of it. Now bye-bye, gentlemen!”

Chan lunged forward, typing furiously on the keyboard and swiping screens around. After some seconds, he pulled out his phone and handed it to Minho. It showed the livestream, together with a timer in the corner. It started at 00:00:00 and the seconds started counting.

00:00:01-00:00:02-00:00:03-00:00:04-00:00:05-

“Keep it close,” Chan murmured. “We’ll get him back, I promise.”

Minho nodded, throat too dry to talk. He looked down at the phone, jisung’s small, bloodied form squeezing at Minho’s heart every second he didn’t open his eyes. Just what had they done to him? If he’d been captured days ago, had he even eaten? Had they hurt him, needled info out of him? Jisung was good, too good, and Minho knew he would never let go of any info that would actually work against the agency. He would sooner die than betray his colleagues.

A rather selfish thought had Minho stroking the side of the phone, his heart breaking into a million pieces. He’d rather have Jisung betray them than die. It didn’t matter that they were trained for this exact scenario, that it had been droned into them that the agency always came first. That their personal lives were second. It didn’t matter.

Jisung couldn’t die. Minho wouldn’t let him. Even if it meant giving up their team leader or the biggest secrets of their country, he’d always make that choice. He’d always save Jisung.

Maybe that made him a bad agent.

Or maybe it made him human.

Chan rushed from his chair and disappeared into the front of the van. The motor roared to life. “Hold onto something!” he warned. Minho barely had the time to grab the desk before the van moved, swirling out of the parking lot and swerving down the road with screeching tires. Minho’s eyes were locked on the screens.

Jisung, please, hold on.

Back at headquarters, the moment they barged in, everything erupted into chaos. Changbin and Seungmin snatched the phone from Minho’s fingers and he almost decked them in the face were it not for the fact that they immediately started transferring the live stream to one of the big screens in the main hall. Mrs. Baek appeared from one of the rooms, already barking orders. Agents all around them started tracing the connection, analyzing the setting, doing anything to figure out where Jisung had been taken.

Hyunjin appeared and steered Minho away from it all, pushing him into a chair and forcing a cup of tea in his hands. The cup shook, some of the hot water spilling over his hands but even then he didn’t feel any of it. He couldn’t—not when the jerking of Jisung’s unconscious body kept replaying in his mind. The way the blood splattered across the chair and ground, the way he looked so pale, so thin, so… so breakable.

“He took him- He- That- That bastard- I’m gonna kill him-” Minho hissed. In one swing, he drank the cup of tea, relishing in the way the scalding water slid down his throat. He crunched the cup in his fist. “We need to get him back.”

“Everyone’s working on it, hyung,” Hyunjin said softly. “But we can’t do anything as long as we don’t know where he is. It might take a couple of hours but-”

“We don’t have hours!” Minho flew from his seat. “Every ten minutes he’s gonna get hurt! We can’t wait, not now, not when he could- when they could kill him-”

“Agent Leeknow. My office, now.” Mrs. Baek turned on her heel in the middle of the room and strode away, not even looking to see if he was following. Hyunjin slumped, casting a worried glance Minho’s way but seeming to give up trying to calm him down for now. Minho grit his teeth, following the team leader with fire brimming under his skin.

Her office was small but filled with high-tech equipment. A large screen on the wall showed ever changing holographs of the city’s statistics and her agents’ recent messages. Her desk stood in the center, a sleek, black thing with only a single keyboard and desktop screen on it. In the corner of the room stood a small water dispenser, the used mug on top of it the only thing that showed how she actually used the office daily while the rest remained cold and untouched.

Team leader Baek turned to him then, her hands resting on the back of her chair.

“What I feared the most has come to pass,” she said. “Megaverse must have known we’d send in an agent and must have been waiting. I don’t know how they hacked into our systems, but we must root out the bug before it can get to even more classified data. They must have been following him from the moment he stepped inside their ranks.”

“So you’re saying agent Han was compromised from the start? And you still let him go in?” Minho balled his fists at his side.

Mrs. Baek pursed her lips. “No, I didn’t know or else I would have called off his mission before it could ever begin. You have my word Leeknow-ssi, I would never put one of my agents in danger like this.”

“So are you going to talk with Megaverse then?” Minho asked. “Give in to his demands so we can get Han back?”

“No.”

Anger flared right back up, and Minho resisted the urge to step forward and start screaming. Instead, he raised his voice as much as he could, keeping his words clipped and sharp. “Why not? They’ve given us a clear ultimatum. Agent Han could be killed whenever those bastards feel like it. If you really care about your agents, you have to go and talk with the man! He’s not even demanding money or government secrets or anything!”

“It’s not that simple,” Mrs. Baek argued, sighing. “But I understand if you can’t see that right now. Agent Han is too close to you, which is exactly why I’m taking you off this case.”

“What?! But madam, you can’t-!”

“You’ll find in fact that I can,” their team leader said. “Effective immediately, you are not to ask for updates or meddle in our team’s efforts to get agent Han back. You’re to sit this one out until I say so.”

“Madam, please, you can’t take me off, I need to be there for him, I need to help-!”

“Our team’s more than capable with or without you, Leeknow-ssi. Trust in your colleagues. They want Agent Han back just as much as you do.”

“Then let me in on the mission, I promise I won’t let my emotions cloud my judgement-”

“The answer is no, Leeknow-ssi and that is final. If you disobey me, I won’t hesitate to put you on indefinite hiatus.”

He was on the verge of throwing out more counter arguments, but at that threat, his mouth snapped shut. If he was put on hiatus, he wouldn’t be there when they brought Jisung in either. He wouldn’t be allowed in the med bay and he wouldn’t be allowed to talk with the others. As a secret agency, all of their workers were tied under strict rules to maintain the state’s secrets, meaning that any member put on hiatus was essentially an outsider that wasn’t allowed to know anything anymore. He couldn’t risk that.

But he also wasn’t going to back down so easily. He had to keep fighting. Jisung trusted him to keep fighting.

Nevertheless, Minho bit his tongue, forcing himself to look down and stay silent. Mrs. Baek took that as him surrendering. She hummed.

“I promise we’ll get him back, Leeknow-ssi. Trust in your colleagues and trust in me. I won’t stop until we have Megaverse trapped in prison once and for all.”

Minho nodded, blinking a few stubborn tears away. Not ones of resignation, but of frustration. Like hell was he going to sit and do nothing while Jisung was out there, getting tortured all because they as agents had promised their lives to the organisation.

The door slammed open and Hyunjin appeared sounding out of breath.

“Ten minutes have passed. They’re hurting him again.”

Minho tensed, keeping his head low and barely resisting turning around. Mrs. Baek passed him by, leaving the office with one final warning.

“Take the back door and go to your office, Agent Leeknow. Wait until further instructions.”

Then she was gone, and all Minho heard before the door closed were weak, gurgling screams coming from the livestream in the main hall. He swallowed, letting the anger consume him whole.

He wasn’t going back to his office. He wasn’t going to stand by and do nothing.

Even if that could lose him his job.

“Seungmin-ah, I need your help.”

Getting Seungmin to hack their own servers via an anonymous channel and download any hints to Jisung’s location took far less convincing than Minho had expected. Apparently, the younger agent also didn’t agree that Minho had been taken off the mission.

“If there’s anyone with the unstoppable drive to get him back in time, it’s you, hyung,” he’d said, pulling up tab after tab with information and analytics. Minho had been oddly touched by that. From the corner of the supply closet, it not only felt like they were breaking the law. By forgoing direct orders, he was putting both of their careers on the line. But Seungmin still did it. All because he believed in Minho’s ability to get done what needed to be done.

He extracted Jisung’s estimated location in a matter of minutes. Minho wasted no time in pulling on his mask and coat, turning to leave, but before he could, Seungmin stopped him with a hand on his elbow.

“Be careful, hyung. I’ve connected your comms to my personal frequency so tell me if anything happens, okay? You’re not alone.”

“I know. Thanks, Seungminnie. I’ll make sure to get Jisungie out of there. We’ll be back before you know it.”

“Good luck.”

“Thanks, I’m gonna need it.”

Stealth might have been Jisung’s strongest point, but Minho wasn’t an agent for nothing. He could blend into shadows like he belonged there; play with people’s perspective; and essentially disappear for everyone but those who knew where to look. Even so, his specialty was weaponry. Any and all guns, rifles, even swords—put it in his hands and he’d be able to perform magic. Or commit a felony. The coin toss was still up in the air.

Tiptoeing through the (seemingly) abandoned building, he kept his ears close to the walls, aware that any sound could mean the start of a fight. According to the small map on his watch, the red dot of Jisung was coming closer. He was just behind this hall. Anticipation and nerves coiled around his stomach, his fingers itching to take his gun and simply blast a hole in the wall right there.

Remember, in and out with nobody seeing. That was the goal. If he could snatch Jisung without them noticing, he could avoid much unnecessary bloodshot (especially his own). He couldn’t care less about taking Megaverse’s organization down anymore either. All he needed was Jisung back in his arms and possibly already back in a medical bed as soon as he was able to drag him back to headquarters.

Finally arriving at the door, he took a deep breath. No time to hesitate.

Like a ghost’s touch, his fingers curled around the door and opened it slowly, lifting the handle just enough that the hinges would make no sound. The room on the other side was big, empty and…

Exactly where the map said Jisung had to be.

“No…” Minho whispered. He stepped inside, eyes scanning every single surface. There was no one. Not a single soul. No chair, no lackeys, no Jisung. “No, no, no-”

Minho rushed to the middle of the room, twisting around and wishing this wasn't true. What a cruel joke. Somehow, their team had gotten a fake location from the livestream. The connection must have been tampered with, maybe even changed on purpose just to send them on a useless goose chase.

There was nobody here.

“No!” Minho dropped all pretenses of being silent and pulled at his hair, swiveling around again. “Fuck!”

Returning to headquarters felt like a walk of shame, even if only Seungmin knew about his outing. Or at least, that’s what Minho thought. But the moment he stepped inside and tried to slip inside his office, Mrs. Baek was there, her face thunderous.

“Agent Leeknow, I’m disappointed in you. Not only disobeying my orders, but letting yourself get tailed?”

“What?” Minho stilled. “There was no one there. I swear I was cautious-”

She shook her head, stepping aside. “Men, code Blue, shut the doors, get the intruder to me!”

Minho flinched from the harsh tone. Everyone around them burst into hurried movements.

She sent one last glance Minho’s way. “I expect you down at the interrogation rooms immediately. You brought the intruder to us, so you’ll deal with them. If you fail to get the information out of him we need, you’ll share their fate.”

Minho’s eyes widened, but their team leader disappeared down the hallway already. Cold sweat already clung to his skin from the rush back, but now it intensified for a whole other reason.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He should have paid more attention. Of course the enemy wouldn’t just send them on an empty chase, they’d use the opportunity to counter attack. Send an agent as revenge.

Minho went in the direction of the lower levels, mind whirring with all the ways he could get the intruder to talk. He refused to stoop down to the level of Megaverse and their heartless torture, but that didn’t mean he didn’t have his own techniques. With a pit stop past his own desk to collect some of his tools, he made his way down to the floor level rooms, thankfully finding them empty.

He’d just set his tools down on the interrogation table when the door opened and two agents stepped inside, dragging a half unconscious boy between them. They dumped the boy on the single chair there, making quick work of binding him with rope so he had no way to escape. The boy groaned, a bruise already blooming on his jaw.

Minho steeled himself, going to stand in front of their captive. With cold eyes, he stared the boy down, taking in his badly trimmed bangs, the gaunt edges of his face and the sharp slits of his eyes. He might have looked fierce once upon a time, were it not for the obvious signs of abuse and neglect he’d visibly had to live through. When one of the agents pulled at the boy’s shirt, the rim of a tattoo caught his eye.

Ah. So a lackey from Megaverse’s ranks then. He’d seen Hyunjin put the same (fake) tattoo on Jisung before his mission. It explained the dirt on the boy’s clothes and the obvious resistance in his eyes even while half-conscious. Megaverse only let the toughest join their ranks. This kid must have had quite some grit before he’d been beaten into obedience.

“Been following me from the warehouse, hm?” Minho asked, starting small. “Think I didn’t notice you?”

“Sir,” one of the agents said. “He had this with him. Says it’s for you.”

Minho quirked an eyebrow when the agent brought an envelope to his attention. It looked bulky.

“Did you check it?”

“We checked it for any sort of technology or radiation, but it came out clean. We haven’t opened it yet.”

The lackey’s eyes watched with far too much interest as Minho accepted the envelope. Either he didn’t know what was in it and he was curious too, or he knew, and he couldn’t wait to see Minho’s reaction.

Deciding to simply rip off the bandaid in one fell swoop, Minho tore open the letter. He peeked inside, trying to see what it was before he had to take it out-

And promptly heaved, dropping the letter and twisting on his heel, pressing a hand to his mouth.

The letter fell on the ground with a thud, its contents spilling out.

A finger. A finger with a delicate, silver engagement ring.

One that Minho felt burning on his own finger now too.

“What is… oh.” One of the agents picked the letter and the finger up. “We’ll get this to the lab immediately, sir.”

Minho swallowed, closing his eyes and praying for a second to any deity above that he could keep his cool until the interrogation was over. He knew Mrs. Baek was looking from the other side of the window. He couldn’t lose it here.

Even if every instinct in him was screaming, crying and banging the confines of his self-discipline with promises of rageful bloody murder, he forced himself to breathe in and out, pushing the nausea away.

“Yes, you may leave,” he forced out, sounding far harsher than he intended. “I need to speak alone with our intruder anyway.”

The agents bowed and left, taking the stump of flesh and dried blood with them. Minho swallowed one last time, schooling his face into forced coldness, before he turned back to the kid.

-who was staring at the ground with clear tears welling in his eyes. Some of Minho’s anger simmered down at that. Oh. So he hadn’t known the contents of the letter either.

“That’s the kind of boss you’re working for,” he said. “Still happy to be his dispensable pawn?”

The kid’s wide eyes snapped to Minho, one of the tears spilling over. He stayed silent. Stubbornly so.

“Did you get a good look at what you so desperately wanted to give me?” Minho pushed. “The finger, the ring? Do you even know whose it was?”

At that, the boy gave a tiny nod. So not speaking, but responsive. That was far better than Minho had expected. Truthfully, even without the visual answer, the boy had shown far too much emotion already for a lackey. He could use that to his advantage. Maybe he wouldn’t even need any of his tools. If he just pushed a little deeper…

“And do you know who he is to me?” At the silence, Minho hummed. “Right. Of course, you wouldn’t because your boss doesn’t tell you anything. You don’t need to know more than what you’re good for. He’s a master at keeping people loyal while keeping them as dumb as a pack of sheep.”

Something in the boy’s eyes hardened at that, but Minho couldn’t pinpoint if it was from indignation or something else. Was the boy getting angry Minho was badmouthing him and his boss’ relationship or maybe… was it something else than loyalty that kept him chained? Did he agree?

“You see,” Minho sneered, bending closer to the boy and leaning a hand on the back of his chair. “The agent he's got as a prisoner right now is my fiancee. That was our engagement ring.” Minho showed his finger, holding it right in front of the boy’s eyes so close that they went cross-eyed. “Still think he’s a good person? That he cares about anyone but his empire?”

“You must have angered him,” the boy said quietly. Knowingly. Minho narrowed his eyes at that.

“Hm, I must have. Do you have experience with that too?”

The boy’s lips were sealed once more, but the tight press of them told enough of the story that wasn’t said. This boy was caught in the man’s webs as well. Maybe by force, maybe by blackmail, maybe something even worse. Whatever the case, Minho could offer him the way out.

“So you do. He hasn’t shipped a family’s remains to you in a letter too, has he?” The boy remained unresponsive. Hm, so that was no. Still, his posture tightened and he glanced to the side for just a millisecond. Minho had hit some sort of spot there. So the big bad boss had done something to his family, just not tortured them. Yet.

“Who is it? A parent? A sibling? Who does he dangle over you to get your compliance, hm?”

Minho stepped back, twisting his engagement ring around his finger. He needed to speed things along. Every ten minutes he failed to get the real location out of this kid, the more things Megaverse would do to Jisung that could potentially cost his life.

“A neighbour? A friend?”

The boy gulped.

“Ah, so a friend? Someone close to you? Why don’t you just run, leave the gang behind and run away with your buddie?”

The boy kept a tight lock on his lips, but more and more of his body was showing the answers. His eyes were looking past Minho, seemingly caught in a memory. His breathing had picked up, strained and heavy. His nails scraped the armrests of the chair, as if he was in pain just remembering.

“You tried so before,” Minho didn’t ask but stated. The way the boy went rigid meant he guessed right. Oh, no Minho was actually starting to feel pity for the kid. “So you and your friend tried to run but they caught you, and now you’re stuck playing Megaverse’s errand boy while he keeps your friend locked away?”

The boy glanced to the side again.

“No, not locked away, but at his side? He’s keeping your friend close to him?”

The gig was up and the boy’s eyes met Minho’s with what could only be described as desperation. He wasn’t allowed to tell, but he needed help. He needed Minho to figure it out. He needed to be saved just as much as Jisung did.

“Okay, thank you for telling me.” The boy gaped at him, not uttering a single sound, but clearly stumped at how easily Minho had read him. But really what had Megaverse been thinking, sending such a young boy with such emotional eyes that told everything to the world?

Minho dropped the cold tone, making sure to let the next sentence drip in tempting sweetness the kid wouldn’t be able to resist. “We can get you and your friend out of there,” he said, quickly holding up a finger when the boy’s eyes widened, “But only on one condition: you help me save my fiancee first. When we extract him, we can take your friend with us and both of us will have the ones we love back in our arms again.”

Finally, it seemed something in the boy broke. The promise was too sweet to resist. He seized Minho up, seeming to weigh the choice for one last time in his mind, before he finally spoke those fateful words.

“You promise?”

Minho rushed through headquarters, the location of Jisung’s prison circling around in his head on an endless loop. He needed their tech team. They needed to pinpoint those coordinates now.

“Minho-hyung!”

A cry from around the corner made him speed up even more and when he arrived in the main hall, he saw everyone looking his way.

“What, what is it?”

Hyunjin had teary eyes as he shakily pointed to the screen. There, Jisung was still bound to that cursed chair, a trail of blood already dried on one of the legs showing the precise waterfall that had erupted out of the stump on his hand. Minho wanted to be sick all over again at the sight, but he forced himself to focus.

The timer next to the screen flashed. Another ten minutes had passed. As they’d been at this for hours already, this was just one of many timers that went off. Each one worse than the last. Minho hadn’t been there for most of it, but he saw the damage now. The bruises, the blood, the extra rips in Jisung’s clothes and the-

The inwardly spiked collar almost piercing through his neck.

“Jisungie…”

“Oh oh, another ten minutes are up. Say, Soojin-ah, did you see the gift I sent to your subordinate? Agent Leeknow, wasn’t it? I hope you liked it! It sure was fun to decide what kind of personal message I could get across without any words.”

Minho came to stand beside Hyunjin, who was barely holding back his sobs. It seemed everyone had heard about the ‘gift’, as multiple agents looked at Minho with clear pity in their eyes. Even Seungmin and Changbin in front of their computer screens had turned Minho’s way, pain in their expressions. Jisung’s capture was slowly breaking them all, piece by piece, one by one.

A hand landed on Minho’s shoulder and he turned to see Chan joining him, a grim look on his face.

“You know, I’m very disappointed in you Soojin-ah,” Megaverse continued. “I thought you government pawns liked to play the good guys every once in a while, but it seems you don’t care as much about your people as you like to pretend. Should we share this livestream with the whole world next time? Choose another one of your little agents when this one stops working?”

Mrs. Baek had taken her spot at the front of the room, right in front of the screen. Megaverse wouldn’t be able to see her, but everyone at the agency could. She looked absolutely tormented with every word the man spoke, her eyes fixed on Jisung’s unmoving form.

Megaverse sighed. “Oh well, we’ll get to that later. Now it’s time for another round of punishment. Blondie, if you would be so kind.”

The same lackey from before stumbled into frame as if they’d been pushed, the same black mask hiding their face under the blond bangs that must have given them their nickname. They approached Jisung with clear trepidation this time, a knife glinting in their hand.

“Hmmm, what should we cut off this time? Another finger? A toe? What about his manlyhood?”

Minho sucked in a breath, hands forming shaking fists by his side.

“No, let’s keep that for later. I think a finger will do for now. Blondie, if you will.”

The lackey nodded and took Jisung’s hand, the one not yet bleeding, pulling it as far as the restraints would allow. Without any hesitation, they swung the knife against Jisung’s ring finger, cutting it off in one heartless slash. In an instant, Jisung’s eyes flew open and a scream ripped out of him so loud that Minho could feel it shatter all the bones in his body. He couldn’t keep himself calm anymore, not as he saw the blood spew out nor as he had to watch Jisung plead and cry, begging a non-existent savior to help him.

Before he knew it, Minho was yelling too. Begging and crying and all the ugliness in between. Strong hands wrapped around his middle, pulling him away from the main hall, but he fought against them.

“NO! JISUNG! YOU FUCKING BASTARD! NO-!”

Someone was trying to talk to him, but he didn’t hear it, couldn’t hear it. All he heard was Jisung, all he saw was Jisung. Another finger. Screaming. All that pain while he was doing nothing.

“Minho! Minho, you gotta calm down!”

“No! No, Jisung, he’s- They cut him- They cut another finger, they’re killing him!”

Minho writhed in the arms’ hold, but through his tears, someone familiar became visible. Chan. He stood in front of him, hushing him, brushing tears from his cheeks as they streamed down in waves.

“Hyung, please, we need you for this mission,” Changbin’s voice came from behind him. “Believe me, I want to tear out that man’s throat for what he’s doing to Jisungie, but we need to keep it together. As long as we haven’t gotten Jisung back, we need to keep it together.”

All the fight drained from Minho’s limbs and he sagged in Changbin’s hold, a loud sob tearing through him.

“Jisung, he- he’s all alone.”

“Not for long, Minho,” Chan promised. “You got the estimated location out of that runner. Our team’s working on securing the location as we speak. It’s only a matter of minutes before we can move out.”

Minho leaned forward and Changbin let him do so, seeming to realize he wasn’t going to run out there and throw another tantrum anymore. Minho put his face in his hands, hating that he couldn’t stop crying. The cold ring around his finger felt like the heaviest weight in the world, the metal freezing him from the inside out.

Jisung would never be able to wear it again. He’d never be able to wear a wedding ring either. Megaverse had taken that from him. From them.

It was at that moment that Minho realized he was done. He didn’t want to be an agent anymore. Not if this was the kind of sacrifice they’d have to give just to keep their country safe. Who was there to keep them safe? Why did they have to be the ones dying while others got to life without any worries?

“Minho?”

Minho looked up, meeting Chan’s eyes through his blurry vision. He sniffed and rubbed his nose, reigning himself back in.

“ ‘m fine now. Thanks. I needed the reality check.”

Chan didn’t seem convinced, but Minho looked away from the hurt and pity to instead look through the window of the office space to where the main hall was. He could still see part of the livestream, though not the part where Jisung was sitting. It gave him a cold reminder. If they weren’t fast, Jisung could be gone for good.

A knock on the door had the three of them turn to the door.

“Sir?” A younger agent poked their head in. “We’ve got the location. We’re ready to go.”

Minho straightened up in tandem with Chan and Changbin.

“To the vans. Now.”

They worked as a well oiled machine. Years of experience helped, but it was mostly their drive to finally get Jisung back that pushed them forward this time. Hordes of agents piled out of the vans before they’d fully slowed to a stop, guns at the ready, the opposition not having a single chance to even realize what was happening. Minho and his team took the rear, sneaking in through a side door while the chaos happened up front. They silently maneuvered through the halls, and with hand gestures and gazes alone, they worked together seamlessly. Not that Minho had expected anything else—he’d pleaded to take these specific men on his team for a reason. Mrs. Baek had granted him this, knowing now he’d leave without her permission anyway.

They stopped at a locked door and Minho gestured for Chan to come closer. With a single flick of his fingers, Chan whipped out his lock kit and started working on getting it open while the rest waited in the dark. In the distance, they could hear the guns and the shouting. The war might have been out there, but the real fight was to happen here. The fight to get Jisung back. The fight to take Megaverse down once and for all.

Chan gave a stern nod when the lock clicked open and he stepped back, allowing Minho to come forward again. For big missions and retrievals, it was usually Chan at the lead, but Minho had begged him to switch roles this one time. If anyone was going to be at the front of saving Jisung, it had to be him. It just had to be.

The others followed in perfect silence. They navigated the building single file, keeping both an eye out for Megaverse’s lackeys as well as important items they could confiscate. Whatever they could use to prove Megaverse’s illegal dealings and get him imprisoned for the rest of his life, they took with them, tucked under belts and in small pouches wrapped around their arms and legs.

It took ages before they finally stopped outside of the closed-off room that had to be Jisung’s. A painful kind of deja vu hit Minho, the closed door and the red dot on the map on his wrist taunting him.

He took a practiced breath. This time, they’d win. He’d make sure of that.

He cast a glance back at his team, receiving determined looks back. They were ready.

Unlike last time, stealth would only get them so far, and so Minho finally threw caution in the wind and kicked the door in with all the anger he’d been holding back until now. The door flew off its hinges, clattering on the ground inside the room. Minho righted himself, stepping over it and drawing his gun from his belt.

“Megaverse!” he called out. “It’s over! Surrender now or we’ll have no choice but to shoot!”

His team flowed out from behind him, spreading on either side until they were a united front against the few people inside. A couple of low-ranking lackeys were manning a set of computers on the left side and looked up in panic, the livestream clearly coming from the cameras they were operating. Then there was the blond lackey, the one with the mask and the thin posture that stood in a corner of the room, right beside a large man with an even larger scar going from his chin to the hairline of his buzzcut.

And in the middle of the room: Jisung. Head resting on his chin, breathing shallow and labored. He seemed to be awake, his eyelids fluttering, and blood was lazily oozing from his hand down to his leg and then pooling on the floor. Minho had half a mind not to rush in and take Jisung in his arms, his gun still perfectly still and ready to shoot.

At least the lackeys didn’t move, smart enough to know when they were outnumbered. Megaverse, however, was not.

“Well, well, well,” he drawled, slowly standing up from his chair. “How ever did you find out about our little hiding place, hm?” His eyes snapped to the blond lackey next to him. “Perhaps a little birdie told them?”

The blond boy—because from what Minho could see now, he was small—stiffened and held his gaze to the floor. Megaverse tutted, clearly ticked off but trying to play it like he was amused. He must have really thought he was invincible.

“It doesn’t matter how we knew,” Minho growled, following Megaverse with the barrel of his gun as the man walked across the length of the room. “All that matters is that you let our colleague go and we will escort you to your new home without any more fuss. You’re finally going to prison.”

That pulled a loud, bellowing laugh from the man. “Oh, oh, oh! Am I now? You and what forces? Those amateurs outside? These twinks that you brought along to save your little fiancee?”

Megaverse stopped at Jisung’s chair and Minho went rigid, his finger itching more than ever to shoot.

“It was quite fun to discover just what ties this one had to all of you,” Megaverse went on, clearly enjoying how he still seemed to have the upper hand even if he was outnumbered. They couldn’t shoot as long as he was this close to Jisung. They might be amazing shots, but the man could still pull a fast one on them. One wrong move, and Jisung was dead before they ever reached him. “Hearing him cry out your names, knowing you were watching, wishing you were there to save him… Learning that he was marrying one of his colleagues made it even more fun! So what do you see in a twig like him, hm?”

Megaverse reached out and snapped his fingers against the side of Jisung’s head, earning a pained grunt from the agent as his head tilted to the side.

“Was it the fire in his eyes that I managed to snuff out? Was it the muscle that I drained from him? Was it the faith that I slowly stole from him?”

Minho ground his teeth, feeling like crying and screaming all over again. It was disgusting to see this man touching Jisung, and even more so to hear how much he’d enjoyed torturing him. This man was sick, twisted in the head, worse than scum. If only he’d take a single step back, just enough so he couldn’t hurt Jisung in the time it took to put a bullet in him…

“Is this how you spent your free time?” Minho shot back. “Watching people bleed and cry while you sit on your fat ass and bully people around?”

“Why yes, I’m glad you noticed.” Megaverse circled the chair, one hand dangerously close to touching Jisung again. “In fact, your little boytoy has not been the first or the last to die for one of my games. It’s what keeps life fun, you know?”

Minho could tell his team was itching to start a fight as well, none of them able to draw their eyes away from Jisung. It was Minho’s role to give the sign. He was the one deciding when they would shoot, when they would finally release all their anger and tension and finish this once and for all.

But Minho held them in place, needing Megaverse to get away from Jisung first.

“You know, sending me to that empty location was a smart move,” Minho said. He hated how Megaverse practically lit up at the praise. “But you know what was less so?”

He allowed a tiny smirk to pull at his lips for show. If megaverse thought Minho was taunting him, he’d get angry. Maybe angry enough to charge at him and leave Jisung alone.

“Sending a runner our way with that letter. You thought you could break us with that little bit of proof?” Minho shook his head. “I’ll make sure you’ll remember that move as the mistake that put you in prison for the rest of your life. Because of that letter, we’re here now, and you don’t have a chance of escaping anymore.”

A tiny slip of the mask, a short downturn of lips, but it was enough. Minho had gotten under Megaverse’s skin. He pushed it further.

“You know what’s an even worse mistake to make, though?” He took a step forward. Almost subconsciously, Megaverse mirrored him.

Bingo.

“Making an enemy of me.”

And with that, Minho shot. Once in the man’s leg, once in his chest and once more in the middle of his forehead to make sure he would never stand back up again. Megaverse tried to step back, a sudden flash of a knife sliding out of his pocket, but he was too late to reach Jisung before the bullets embedded themselves in his bones, his skull. He had the ground before he ever had the time to blink.

Unseeing eyes stared at nothing as blood rapidly flooded around his body. Minho wasted no time.

“Apprehend the others, make sure no one escapes! I can handle Jisung!”

The team moved in, not a single beat of hesitation between them as the fight broke out in honesty. The lackeys tried to fight back with their own guns and weapons, but without their leader, they were nothing but a disorganized mess. Minho didn’t even pay them any mind anymore, his mind single focussed on Jisung.

He rushed across the room, dropping beside the chair and immediately snatching the knife from Megaverse’s hand to start sawing at the ropes.

“Jisungie, hey,” he said, tone urgent and desperate. “Baby, I’m here, you’re gonna be safe now. Can you hear me? Jisungie?”

“Min-Minho…”

“Yes, yes, it’s me. Hey, hey, can you look at me?”

The first ropes around his legs snapped and Minho went on to his wrists. Jisung’s eyelids fluttered. He was clearly fighting to stay awake, hazy eyes searching before they finally landed on Minho.

“J-Jagi-”

“Hey, baby, it’s me. You’ve done so well. So, so well. You’ve been so strong for me, yeah? So incredibly strong.”

“Wasn’...” Jisung slurred. “Wasn’ stron’... Hurts…”

“I know it hurts, baby, but I’m getting you out of here. I got you now.”

The last of the bindings around his arms snapped and so the only one left was the one around his chest. It was the tightest, and Minho didn’t want to cut too close for fear of hurting Jisung. To his surprise, the blond lackey suddenly appeared behind the chair, pulling off his mask. The kid—because it was just a kid—had freckles and big, scared eyes.

“Please, let me help.” The kid pulled out a knife, one steeped in blood and Minho tensed. The boy didn’t pay it any mind and started cutting Jisung’s binding on the back of the chair. Before long, Jisung was tipping over right into Minho’s waiting arms.

“I got you, I got you.” Holding his lover close took precedence over his doubts of the blond kid’s loyalty, and he let down his guard, all of his focus going to whispering constant reassurances for the both of them. “That’s it, I’ve got you. You’re safe now. You’ve been so brave, Jisungie. So, so brave. I’ve got you now.”

“Jagiya...”

With the weakest attempt ever, Jisung tried to lift his hand and grab a hold of Minho’s sleeve. Minho guided the hand, even though it was slick with blood, and helped the younger grab the fabric there.

“I’m gonna lift you up now, okay? You’ll be fine. I’m gonna make sure you’re fine.”

“M’kay.” Jisung closed his eyes, pliantly letting Minho lift him up and into his arms in a bridal carry. Just as Minho went to turn away, intending to go outside to the waiting ambulance as soon as possible, a voice stopped him.

“Wait.” The blond kid rounded the chair, looking up at Minho with big, shiny, pleading eyes. “Please take me with you. My- My friend. I need to know he’s okay.”

Minho paused, his brain working over hours.

“Friend?” he repeated. He hefted Jisung up a little higher so he had a good grip. “He wouldn’t happen to have horribly cut bangs and foxy eyes?”

The blond kid lit up like Minho had told him it was Christmas. “Yes! Yes, that’s him! Please, I need to see him!”

Minho turned back around. He nudged his head. “Fine then. But don’t think me taking mercy on you means you’re free from being put on trial. You’ve done a lot of nasty things, kid. You need to face the consequences.”

The blond kid slumped, nodding as the light in his eyes dimmed a bit. “I know. I’m not going to fight it.”

“Good.” Minho started walking and he was only a little pleased when the kid quickly rushed after him. “Just tell your story to the court, kid. I’m sure they’ll lighten your sentence if you tell them about the blackmail.”

“Yeah, the blackmail- Wait, how did you know?” The kid had to run to match Minho’s long strides.

“Oh, you know. A little birdie told me.”

That smile that broke out on the kid’s face was the most sunshine Minho had seen in days.

The medbay was quiet at this time of the day. There weren’t any official ‘visiting hours’ but most of the boys kept their visits to just after lunch or tea break. They all had too much work to do to slack off all day.

Unlike Minho, who was the freest to do what he wanted now then ever. Quitting your job helped a lot with that.

Minho toyed a little with the hand he was holding, plucking at the bandages and humming a soft tune he remembered to be one of Jisung’s favorite songs. Jisung was reading, clumsily holding the book in his other hand, but having to ask for a turning of the page every time since Minho was keeping his one hand hostage.

“Page, please,” he said with that sweet voice of his. Minho grinned and dutifully flipped the page for him, going right back to toying with the hand in his possession and humming the song without a care in the world.

Eventually, Jisung sighed, lowering the book and letting it fall on the blanket covering his lap.

“Jagiya, I can’t concentrate if you keep playing around with my bandages the whole time. It tickles.”

“Oh? Like this?” Minho scratched a little with his nail and took delight in the small shiver that rippled across Jisung’s arm.

“Jagiiiii,” Jisung whined. “Stop it already.”

“What? This?” Minho brought the hand to his mouth and slowly kissed the bandaged stump there, taking his time. Jisung squirmed in his hold.

“Yes, that! Stop it!”

“What? Am I not allowed to admire you anymore?”

Another kiss to the stump, before Minho moved on to press little kisses along the rest of the fingers and then along Jisung’s arm. Jisung squealed, goosebumps rising all over his skin.

“Jagi!” He gasped, sounding scandalized. “We’re at work!”

Minho leaned back with a smirk. “I’m not. I’m a free man now.”

That made Jisung deflate and a pout formed on his lips. “I still can’t believe you’d ditch me in a place like this. Did you really have to resign? Just like that?”

Minho shrugged, going back to a far more pleasurable thing to do than think about his choice as he pressed another kiss in the nook of Jisung’s elbow. Jisung let out another squeal.

“I mean, you could always ditch this place too,” Minho offered, though he knew it was useless to suggest. He had made his choice, but he’d never force Jisung to do the same. He’d realized the life of an agent wasn’t for him, but Jisung was his own person. If he wanted to keep working with the agency, with their friends, he’d never stop him.

He’d always support him. Just not from the same team anymore.

“You know I can’t do that,” Jisung pouted. “All I’ve trained for is this, hyung, and… I like my work, even if you can’t believe it.”

“I do believe it.” Minho pressed a kiss to Jisung’s bicep, slowly climbing on top of the bed so he could reach better. “I just… need to know you’re safe. I can’t live this life without you, Sungie.”

Jisung’s pout melted into something more gentle, something more serious. “I know, Min.”

Minho hummed, glad to be on the same page about that at least. He finally reached Jisung’s shoulder and stopped just before he got to the neck, the thin necklace with the glistening ring resting there that still bonded them together.

“If you’re really not fine with doing this here, I’ll stop,” he mumbled. Jisung huffed out a laugh from under him.

“You say that while you’re already straddling me,” the younger deadpanned. He shook his head. “Just know that it’s your fault if one of the kids finds us like this again. You're paying for their therapy.”

Minho chuckled. “Lix and Innie have seen far scarier things. They can handle it.”

“I was talking about Changbin.”

That made Minho grin and he looked up to find Jisung already staring.

“That only makes me more excited to do this. He’ll be scarred for life.”

“You’re evil, Jagi.”

“Hm, yeah.” Minho finally leaned in, brushing his lips teasingly over Jisung’s. “But you love me for it.”

Jisung sighed. “That I do. Now kiss me already.”

Minho didn’t need to be told twice.

Chapter Text

Moonlit Cafe was a little nook of a place, just outside of the buzzing royal city center but close enough for both merchants and common folk to seek it out. The carved sign dangling above the door always welcomed new customers with its signature white mooncat, while the fresh scents of bread, pastries and brewed coffee pulled the regulars back time and time again.

The scalloped awning outside always offered guests a shielded place to sit and enjoy their beverages, and the little smattering of tables under it ensured the place looked busy and inviting all day, every day. With an ever changing menu (except for their biggest hits of course), a lovely staff and a faint touch of something magical, Moonlit Cafe was the true little pearl of the kingdom. Everyone who had been to the royal city had visited at least once, and more often than not, they’d become so enchanted by the place they couldn’t wait until they could return once more.

Of course, there were the connoisseurs too, the ones who settled nearby just so they could keep visiting the cafe and discover all of its little curiosities and secrets. Those who had discovered the little back door that led to the kitchen and straight to a small cat feeding station, who’d met the infamous trio of troublemakers the door was made for, the dotted cats who could do no wrong in the eyes of the cafe’s owner no matter how many guests they bothered or how much they hissed at certain canine shapeshifters. Others who’d seen the little pencil doodles on the walls in a corner of the seating room, the spot where a child had spent their years growing up, always safe under the watchful eyes of the cafe’s staff. There were guests that knew all the latest rumors, every crack in the wall before it could be patched up, every detail from every staff member who worked there.

Some prided themselves on being loyal customers, others were simply too addicted to the coffee and naturally grew to know everything. No matter the case, there was one thing that even the newest customer got to hear about sooner or later…

The candle.

Flickering in the middle of a small window in the back of the cafe, the candle never went out, nor did it ever grow smaller or bigger. A beautifully twisting silver ornamented holder held the thin, long candle in place, its rounded handle still turned towards the cafe as if someone had absentmindedly put it down and forgot about it after. The contrary was true, however, as the dish under the candle was without a single speck of dust, showing just how often it was being tended to.

Nobody knew why the candle was there as the seasons passed by in silence, as it stayed lit even on the sunniest of days and shone in the middle of the night with no one to bear witness to it. Nor did anyone know how it could never grow shorter or melt away even after years of being there. Some guests whispered about a cursed object, forced to stay there until their rightful owner picked it up again, stuck in its place and a danger to all who approached it. Others thought the flame must be eternal, perhaps a gift from the gods, a blessing of good luck and warmth to the cafe and everyone came close.

Nobody knew the real reason, the real magic, the real longing behind the candle. It was a beacon, a call to come home, one that would perhaps never reach its intended recipient as they wouldn’t even know to be listening for it. The candle kept a path clear and kept calling, burning so that someday, somehow, the loneliness it was made with would finally disappear.

To be clear, the cafe’s owner wasn’t a lonely man at all. He had a big group of compatriots surrounding him, boys who he would call as close as his family, having taken up permanent space in his life and his heart. They lit up his world and made every day more bearable, healing parts of him that would have been lost if it weren’t for their smiles and easy banter. He owed his life to them, and he would never deny that.

But even so… he yearned. He yearned and wished and waited and longed for that one boy who’d been taken from him. The one who’d disappeared so cruelly out of his life, who had taken most of his heart and refused to give it back no matter how many years passed. The one who’d been ripped away, vanished, not leaving a single trace.

The candle was there for him. Waiting, always ready to cast whoever looked at it in a warm, welcoming glow that the boy would have otherwise given with a single smile alone. The candle was a cheap substitution, one that could never compare to the real deal, no matter how much it tried.

For Minho would always wait for that real smile to return, would always glance at the candle with longing, with a pain so sharp and demanding, it would take his breath away. Only when he’d see that smile again, feel that real warmth, only then would he let the candle go out. A sign of patience, a sign of despair. Whatever you called it, it didn’t matter. Minho would always wait, the soft, constant candlelight his quiet and only companion.

Minho sighed, putting the plate back in the cupboard and grabbing the next one out of the drying rack. The towel he used was getting wetter and more useless the more he dried, but still he refused to grab a new one. He was almost done anyway, the rest of the damp dishes would dry in the cupboard on their own.

With a sideways glance, he found his eyes pulled back to the candle as always happened when he was on his own. The small, bright light lifted his spirits ever so slightly, reminding him of its purpose, while also leaving behind an empty feeling, one that he knew could only be filled by the boy he so missed. How long had it been? Years? More than a decade? No, that couldn’t be right, but it certainly felt like centuries had passed.

The chiming of a bell broke through his staring and he looked away, quickly putting the last of the plates away before hanging the towel to dry. He had his back to the counter, but he could tell from the hesitant footsteps that this customer must be new and unfamiliar with the place. Minho forced a smile on his face, crinkling his eyes in a way he knew made him look kind and friendly.

“Welcome to Moonlit cafe,” he said, turning around. The morning rush had been done for a while now, but it wasn’t time for lunch yet, so there was a lull in activity that gave him the full opportunity to get to know this customer better. He’d make sure to give them the best impression he could. “What can I do for you today-”

He stopped when he saw the cafe was empty. Oh. He must have gotten so lost in his thoughts that he started imagining things. Minho sighed again, hanging the towel and tugging at the connection he had with the others.

Someone take over at the counter, I’m heading out for my break.

The need for words had long since become obsolete, and so without another sound, Minho turned around, confident that someone else would come over in a minute. He unraveled the knots around his waist and put his apron on the hook next to the door, before disappearing into the back room. Just as he had predicted, only seconds after, Hyunjin’s head popped out of the door to the kitchen, flour on his cheeks and streaks of white across his apron. His lips stretched in a smile when he saw who had come inside.

“Oh! Jisungie! I hope you haven’t been waiting for too long. Minho-hyung should’ve said we had a customer, then I’d have come even faster!”

He approached the counter as Jisung chuckled, scratching his neck.

“Ah, yeah, he… uh, he looked tired. I’m sure he forgot. He said you could help me, though.”

“Of course, of course,” Hyunjin nodded along. “So what can I get you today? Something against the cold?”

“Could I get the usual, please?” Jisung started pulling off his pouch from his belt, opening the draw strings and shaking a few silver coins into his hand.

Hyunjin hummed, writing the order on their parchment of the day. “Course! One hazelnut latte coming right up. You sure you don’t want anything to eat? I just finished a fresh batch of oatmeal cookies and another carrot cake?”

Jisung shook his head while already dropping the coins on the counter. “No thanks, I should really be heading back soon. You know how Mr. Bang is: your break is twenty minutes-”

“-and not a minute longer,” he and Hyunjin finished together in low voices. They chuckled.

“Exactly,” Jisung said, “So I don’t have time to stick around. I promise I’ll stop by soon again, though. Is… is there a day when Minho-ssi isn’t working?”

“Huh?” Hyunjin frowned, pausing as he went to grab a to-go cup. “What would that matter? He didn’t say anything to you, did he? You need to tell me if he’s being rude, because even though he’s my boss I would totally fight him if he dares insult such a loyal customer-”

“No, no,” Jisung chuckled again, waving his hand. “He didn’t say anything. Forget I said it. Anyway, how’s the business going? Any fun customers come by and make Changbin-ssi mad again?”

Hyunjin lit up, grabbing the cup and going about his work making the coffee as he started yapping about all the weird and rude or overly flirty customers they’d had since the last time Jisung had visited. Changbin was a person prone to fits of frustration, and so there was always someone close by to help him out behind the counter if he had to deal with rude or annoying customers. Still, they couldn’t prevent every interaction, and so it often happened that the boy came into the kitchen with a head as red as a tomato, asking for someone else to deal with whatever problem he had.

As he talked, Hyunjin finished the coffee far too quickly and that’s when Jisung had to excuse himself.

“Sorry, I really have to go now. Raincheck on that story?”

Hyunjin deflated, though an easy smile remained on his face. “Sure, sure. Good luck at work! Sell lots of cool plants!”

Jisung smiled and waved, leaving the coffee shop with another chime of the bell. Hyunjin hummed to himself, cleaning a few things up as he waited for another customer to come in. He didn’t notice how the candle in the corner got brighter for just a second, nor how it flickered as the door closed. To his knowledge, the flame stood strong, just like before.

Never changing.

Felix always manned the counter during the early morning hours since he was the best for the job. Minho wasn’t a morning person at all, and the others either had early chores to do, people to care for or were still asleep as well. Felix didn’t mind, loving the quiet tranquility of the start of a day. The way the first few bright rays of sunlight tickled the potted plants outside was always just as magical, no matter the season, and the way the entire world still kept quiet in slumber was comforting, a silent blanket in the air. It also helped that he could keep out his wings without anyone seeing before he officially unlocked the shop for visitors. As the only time of the day where no humans were around, he could allow himself that brief moment of reprieve in his pixie form, flitting about to clean and ready everything for the day ahead.

His magic flourished like this. Before Minho had offered him the job at the cafe a long, long time ago, he couldn’t remember a moment he had actually dared to be free like that. It had been too dangerous. Pixies weren’t exactly common folk around these parts, and because of the potent magic in the dust that they naturally secreted, they were highly sought-after by witches and hunters. A prize meant to be sucked dry.

But Minho hadn’t been like that. When Felix had stumbled into the shop with clear magic exhaustion clinging to his sweaty skin and dark circles under his empty eyes, Minho hadn’t even let him order a single drink. He’d taken the boy to the back and promptly told him to shift to his pixie form, no questions asked, no debate allowed.

Felix was ever thankful for him for that. He still didn’t know how Minho had seen through him, but it was his stubbornness that had saved him. And truly, he hadn’t regretted showing the older his other form at any moment after either. This job at the cafe was the best thing in his life, and the friends he’d made here had become more than a family for him.

Which is another reason why he gladly took the morning shift. Let the others sleep, he could take care of the baking and the drinks making as long as it made everyone else just as happy as he was. It was the least he could do.

The bell chimed and Felix shifted into his human form immediately, stumbling out of the kitchen with a bright smile on his face as he shook off the last pixie dust clinging to his shoulders.

“Good morning! Welcome to the Moonlit Cafe, what can I get you?”

Two of what appeared to be travelers stepped inside, one with a pair of rounded glasses that immediately fogged up because of the warmth of the cafe, the other carrying a big back pack that was almost bursting from its overstuffed contents.

“Uh-” The traveler with the glasses said eloquently. He looked up at the menu behind Felix, His adorable wavy hair curling against the glasses and obscuring his sight. His travel companion was a bit faster on deciding what he wanted and simply pointed to the sign outside.

“You have a deal for a pastry and coffee here, right? I’d like that, please.”

“Just a normal coffee?”

“Yes, and with an apple pastry please.”

Felix nodded, writing it down on the parchment in front of him. “You’re in luck because I just got new ones out of the oven. They’ll be warm and extra delicious! And what will it be for you?”

Felix turned back to the bespectacled traveler, who hummed. “Can I have lavender milk? And an apple pastry too, please.”

Felix nodded. The traveler with the back pack didn’t seem to agree with the order, as his sharp eyes narrowed under lifted eyebrows.

“Seriously, you wanna go for something cold? You have been complaining about the wind since the moment we woke up!”

The other traveler shrugged. “It’s what I’m craving. Anyway, how much is it? We don’t have a lot of coins but we do have some trinkets that may be of value to you?”

That had Felix’s interest piqued, but before he could ask what those trinkets might be, he recalled a very stern talking to he’d gotten only recently.

Do not take objects from strangers, Felix! How many times will you take a cursed object before it kills you?

Felix’s mouth snapped shut as he thought the better of it, offering a sheepish smile to the travelers instead.

“Sorry, but we only take coins. It’s not much, though! In fact, if you can repay me with some early morning company, I would be more than happy to give you a discount too.”

That made the travelers smile in surprise, and even if Felix could hear more reprimands echo in his mind (such as, don’t give random discounts to strangers! We’re still running a business!), he ignored those for now. Instead, he went to make the drinks and prepare the pastries for their guests, directing them to one of the coziest tables in the corner of the establishment and offering their finished orders with a charming smile.

“Please enjoy, I baked it with love.”

The backpacked traveler snorted, but then politely thanked him so Felix wasn’t offended. He eagerly pulled out a chair from another table, going to sit beside them.

“So-” Felix said, shuffling the chair closer, “-stories. Please tell me as many as you like!”

“It's quite difficult to choose one,” the bespectacled traveler said. “But maybe we can start with the one of how we met? This is Jeongin, and he’s the son of my mother’s friend, and when she was raising me on her farm, their family came to visit often…”

The sunrise had always been a happy moment for Felix, but enlightened with the endearing stories of the travelers, it was even more amazing. Light slowly crept its way towards the window and inside the cafe, the little particles in the air glistening like glitter as the light hit them and reflected across the room in a scattering of tiny stars. The air felt like it was only now starting to breathe, and as the traveler—apparently called Seungmin—filled the morning with heartwarming stories about his youth on the farm, the day slowly came to life.

Felix was so engrossed in the universe the boys created that he forgot the time, and only when the bell chimed to alert of another customer, was he pulled out of his daydreaming. He jolted, eyes and mouth going wide, and the travelers paused in their animate retelling of their journey to search for a missing goat. Felix turned around, his face lightening up when he saw who it was.

“Oh my, Jisungie! I haven’t seen you in a while, you normally don’t come this early! How are you doing?”

Jisung gave the trio inside a little wave, grimacing sheepishly.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything? I have an opening shift for once, so I was hoping to get some coffee to stay alive.”

“Oh!” Felix jumped up, quickly rushing over to the counter. “Of course, of course, one hazelnut latte coming right up! Do you have time to stick around? These wonderful travelers were telling me stories in exchange for my apple pastries—and you know how good those are—and we were just getting to the good part! Oh, please, Jisungie, can you stay?”

Jisung sent a quick glance back, no doubt to the shop on the other side of the street where he worked, but when he looked back with a slowly growing smile, Felix couldn’t help but mirror it. His quick fingers were already working on the boy’s order as he squealed.

“I’ll get you an apple pastry too, please take a seat! Oh, this is gonna be so much fun! I’ll be right back!”

And he flitted out of the room almost as if he were flying. Of course, unbeknownst to the three patrons in the dining area, he did fly the moment the kitchen door closed, racing to the oven and casting a flurry of magic dust over the pastries to reheat them and give them that special flavor he prided his bakes for. A grin never left his face, eager to spend an amazing time with an old and two potentially new friends.

He didn’t see the candle flickering, nor it growing weaker the more laughter sounded in the air. Loneliness had been dispelled for now and the flame took a tiny break. Never forgetting the longing, but soaking up the temporary reprieve.

Its flame burned evermore.

“So this is love, hmhmhm, so this is love…”

A soft, low timbered voice hummed into the quiet night. The bright rays of moon light painted shining silver streaks across the floor and tables as Minho cleaned them, content to just be for a while. All of his workers had gone home and the shop had been closed up. The day was coming to an end. Still, for Minho, this was the most beautiful time of his routine, the moment where he, the moon, and his own mind were the only ones present to witness his unraveling.

Sometimes, that just meant relaxing after a quiet work day. Sometimes, it meant breaking down, seeing the candle and being overwhelmed by memories of a past long gone. The little flame would burn even brighter with the strengthening of Minho’s loneliness, and the moon would aid it to become untameable. His celestial magic had always been emotionally bound, and it was at these kinds of nights, the ones where he was isolated and all alone, that it almost became uncontrollable.

But tonight Minho was in a good mood, and so he swept the floors with a slow, innocent tune, his heart swelling with a melancholic sort of longing for when he used to share these nights with the one who’d shared the same soul as he.

If he let the memories take over, he could still hear his voice.

Minho-hyung, look at the moon! It’s so pretty! Is that why you made the cafe’s theme about a mooncat? Because you think it’s even prettier than your babies?

Yah, no one is prettier than my babies-

Oh? Not even I?

Uh- That’s not-

Laughter rang in the air as if the person was there behind him and he whirled around, the sound fading away like whispers in the wind.

I’m just kidding, hyung! Aigoo, you’re so easy to tease, aren’t you?

I’m not. You just shouldn’t involve my babies like that.

Sorry, sorry, I’ll keep Soonie, Doonie and Dori out of it. Still… you do think I’m pretty, right? No joking this time?

A ghost impression of the pressure on his finger tips had Minho closing his eyes, imagining his love in his arms as he pressed him closer until their waists were flushed together. The hair in the nape of his neck tickled Minho’s fingers.

You are the most beautiful of all. Even more beautiful than the moon.

H-hyung…

The memory faded and Minho opened his eyes, blinking away the budding of tears. He looked up at the moon, seeking comfort in its silent company. That’s right. He wasn’t all alone, not even in the middle of the night. Tomorrow, there would be a new day, filled with happiness and laughter and friends. Things that he wouldn’t experience anymore, but Minho would do for the both of them.

His resolve strengthened the candle as he cleaned, the flame standing as strong as ever. The night might have been lonely, but the flame burned with that same hope: that someday, when Minho’s days were over, he’d finally reunite with the one he missed the most.

Until then, he’d live his life to the fullest.

Changbin was not a person who got angry easily, no matter what his coworkers might tell other people. In fact, he’d say he was the most reasonable of all, for he knew to pick his battles and leave when a customer was too annoying for him to deal with. Still, there was a reason the others often put him in the back of the kitchen as a preemptive measure, and that’s why he was mostly known as the bread maker and dough kneader of the team. He had the hands for it and the strength, and it wasn’t a job he despised per se.

But that didn’t mean that he didn’t also like to stand at the counter every once in a while. Maybe it was because dwarves like him were used to having boisterous company wherever they went, or it was because he was slightly more human than he liked to admit and he got lonely by being by himself for too long. Either way, the half-blood in him made him crave company, and he always made sure to claim the spot at the front of the shop at least once a day. It could really be quite fun.

Especially when such a loyal customer as Jisung entered the shop at the end of the day, looking worn and tired but still as bright as ever. There were dark green and brown splotches on his pants, a clear sign that the boy hadn’t changed yet and had come straight out of a shift at the flower shop across the street.

“Jisung, hey,” Changbin greeted him, already grabbing the cup for the boy’s go-to order. “Done with work?”

Jisung nodded, a slump to his shoulders that Changbin only knew far too well himself.

“I think I’m gonna sleep for the next couple of days,” the boy groaned. “Mr. Bang had me clean the entire upper floor by myself because he was too busy ‘manning the shop’. Do you know what he hides on that floor? It was like a jungle in there! I still feel like I’ve got spiders crawling all over me.”

Changbin chuckled, easily turning on the fire to heat up the coffee that he’d made shortly before.

“I don’t see any on you at least, so you're good.”

“Geez, Changbin-ssi, you know just how to cheer me up.”

Changbin shrugged jokingly, but then stopped when he noticed the hazelnut powder was empty.

“Oh, I'm gonna have to get more powder from the back. I’ll have your order ready in a minute.”

Jisung waved uncaringly. “I don’t have anywhere to be but my bed. One minute’s not going to ruin me.”

“You sure? You look to be swaying on your feet.”

Jisung rolled his eyes, but he was saved from having to give a response when Minho’s head popped up from the kitchen, having been summoned by Changbin’s silent request.

“Yeah?” was all he asked. Changbin turned his way.

“The hazelnut powder’s empty, can you get a new jar from the back, hyung?”

“Sure.”

And he was gone again, the door swishing closed behind him. As Changbin turned to face Jisung again, he was surprised to see the human paralyzed, staring at a spot on the now closed door as if he had seen a ghost. In fact, his face had turned kind of pale, and his eyes had become really huge…

“Hey, are you okay?”

Jisung snapped out of it and blinked quickly, meeting Changbin’s eyes.

“Oh, uhm, yeah- I’ll just-” He swallowed heavily, a sheen glistening in his eyes. “I’ll wait over there.”

He left the counter, picking one of the back tables as far from Changbin as possible, which he tried not to take offense to. It’s not like it was busy around this time of day, so there was no reason to leave so much room and not wait those couple of minutes while making small talk.

Even when the bell chimed again, the crease between Changbin’s eyebrows didn’t disappear.

“Welcome to the Moonlit Cafe, how can I help you?”

“One large coffee with two swirls of milk on the bottom, two at the top, extra hot, with brown sugar and honey drizzle at the bottom.”

Changbin blinked, already having trouble processing the order before he even realized the customer hadn’t said hello or please at all. His frown grew deeper.

“Not until you ask nicely,” he said. The woman’s eyebrows shut up, her bright red lipstick lips popping open in an offended gawk.

“Excuse me?”

“I won’t, because you still didn’t say please.”

Her eye took on a dangerous glint as she stepped closer. “Young man, I know this must be above your level, but treating the guest in a respectable way is the very first rule of working a job like yours. If you don’t want me to call your manager, you’re going to have to change that tone really quickly.”

Changbin let out a hum, feeling his jaw start to tick. Judging by her appearance and the wrinkles around her lips and eyes, she was at least middle-aged. And a human at that. He knew with quite some certainty that he was older than her, at least by a few decades. Who was she to lecture him when she seemed to have lost her politeness at the front step of the cafe?

“Calling my manager won’t do anything, madam,” Changbin said, trying to sound calm, but knowing from what the others had told him that he probably already started to sound snappy. “Because as long as you don’t repeat your order nicely, I am in my full right to deny you our service. So’s the cafe’s rules.”

“I used to come here all the time,” the woman shot back, “and I’ve never been disrespected like this before. Simply stating an order isn’t rude, it’s efficient, and I know that your previous colleagues wouldn’t have minded at all. Making up new rules isn’t going to change anything, as you’ll only scare away loyal customers like me, boy. Now, get me my coffee already before I get my drink elsewhere.”

“Then get your drink elsewhere. I’m not serving you.”

“Now listen here, boy-”

“Excuse me, madam.”

The both of them turned to Jisung, who’d stood up from his seat and approached the counter again, flashing an innocent looking smile her way.

“I’ve been coming here even before the current owner ran the place, and this rule has always been followed here. You ask for your drink kindly, and anyone who doesn’t, we don’t need to serve. I would gladly point you to some other small businesses in the neighbourhood if you wish to test out their respect policy against our own? Though I’m sure you will be denied service there as well.”

“Why- You-”

If it were possible, steam rose from her ears and nose, and without another word, the woman turned on her heel and marched out, the bell chiming an innocent goodbye as she left. Changbin was left to gape at Jisung, who had spoken like he’d worked for years in the cafe in a way even Changbin hadn’t mastered yet.

“Is that true?” he asked, never having known this about the boy, “you’ve been coming here that long? You knew Minho-hyung’s parents?”

Jisung stiffened. “Uh-” he said, all of his previous bravado and ease with which he had sent the woman away fading before Changbin’s eyes. “Uh, yeah, I guess-”

“One jar of hazelnut, here you go.”

The door to the kitchen opened and Minho came in, elegantly depositing the jar next to Changbin on the counter. He patted him on the shoulder twice, before promptly leaving the same way he came. A tiny cooking alarm went off behind the door and they could hear the oven opening, an immediate smell of warm, fresh pie wafting into the cafe.

Changbin sighed, reminded of why Jisung was actually here.

“Anyway, I’ll make your coffee now. One coffee for one kind loyal customer coming right up.”

He didn’t look Jisung’s way again while he made it, which is why he missed the human swiping at his eyes as if to quickly hide something away. He also didn’t notice the candle, dancing with more vigor than it had just moments before. The flame got brighter, the intent clearer.

Yet, it burned, the wish not even close to being granted.

It was a busy day, and all hands on deck were needed. Changbin baked in the kitchen the entire day, Felix flitted between decorating and making drinks, Hyunjin stood at the counter and cleaned the tables, and Minho made sure everyone knew what to do and when to do it, substituting whoever needed a break. They worked well like this, having done it more times than they could count, and so the whole operation sailed smoothly.

A big traveling pack of wolves had passed by in the morning, and even though they were expertly trying to hide their scent and act normal, Minho recognized the yellowish gleam in their eyes and the slightly spikier teeth immediately. Not to mention their cuddliness at the table.

During lunch, a lot of the merchants from the nearby fair made their way over to the cafe, taking turns getting food and beverages for their partners still at the stands and often ordering a large bulk of what they wanted because they wanted to survive the entire day on more than adrenaline alone.

Then in the afternoon, a group of eight children and one haggard looking couple of parents had come in, making a mess of the tables in the southern part of the cafe and even throwing multiple glasses, full of drinks, to the ground in their escapades. The parents tried corralling their kids into somewhat of a behaved group, but it was no use. They were too rambunctious.

All of this happened in the middle of the normal influx of customers, which meant that every one of the Moonlit’s staff had their hands full managing everything and simply powering through the day on smiles and good intent before they'd eventually crash. They barely had time to chat with anyone, and Felix and Changbin rarely left the kitchen as the batches of fresh orders just kept streaming in. Even Minho’s cats, usually coming in and out whenever they pleased, had smartly taken refuge on the upper floor of the cafe where Minho lived, refusing to come down and get trampled in the chaos that the cafe had become.

Only after the sun had already set and Minho was this close to announcing an early closing of the cafe, did the chaos finally settle down. Few customers still lingered, sipping on the last of their drinks or chatting softly with each other before departing for the night, and Minho watched it all from his slouched place at the counter, having no energy anymore to stand upright and look like a happy, active cafe owner.

Just as he was toying with the keys and waiting for the last three people to leave their table so he could finally close those doors, the bell chimed again and he sagged against the wall, letting out a soft groan.

Of course, the day had one more surprise left for him.

“Welcome to Moonlit Cafe, what can I get you…” he droned lifelessly. He noticed how the two boys that had entered had a dark aura around them, and he straightened up, his mind suddenly becoming alert again as he scanned the aura once more.

“Get out.”

The boys froze, eyes going wide. One of them—longer black hair, sharp features—narrowed them immediately in offense.

“Excuse me-”

“No, get out. I don’t want anything like what you have in my shop.”

“What?” The other asked, looking genuinely confused and a little hurt. The glasses on his nose only made his eyes seem bigger and shinier than they already were. “But we haven’t done anything.”

“Not yet. Now out, I won’t be saying it again.”

“Hey, hyung, we finished prepping the dough for tomorrow- Oh, hey Seungmin! Jeongin!”

Felix appeared from the kitchen, his apron streaked with flour and glitter that he tried to brush away without success.

“What can we help you with?” He turned to Minho and a little frown creased on his face when he saw just how tense Minho was staring at the two customers. “Hyung, what’s wrong?”

“They’ve got dark magic with them,” Minho said. “And I want them out now.”

The cafe seemed to shudder, the lights dimming for a second and the whole world sucking in a breath. The last three patrons who’d still been talking stopped, and quietly, they started packing their things, clearly realizing the atmosphere had quickly changed to something very uninviting. They left, but nobody wished them goodbye. The staring match was unbreakable, and Minho seemed to glare holes into the two boys still standing pinned in the middle of his shop.

“Hyung, are you sure? I promise, these two are good guys. They’re my friends and I know them-”

“I don’t care if they’re your friends, Lix-ah. I don’t tolerate dark magic anywhere near my cafe, so you-” he spoke to the boys. “-either leave right now or I’ll have to forcibly remove you.”

The eyes behind the first boy’s glasses flitted between Felix and Minho with a hint of fear. “Felix? What is he talking about?”

“Magic… isn’t real,” the second boy said, some of his tone turning smaller. “...Right?”

A sudden pulse of black seemed to emanate from said boy’s back pack and Minho had enough, thrusting out a hand with his palm forward and casting a silent spell.

“No, hyung, don’t-!”

But Minho hadn’t been aiming at the boy and only at the back pack, blowing it from the boy’s shoulders with a harsh burst of wind and sending it flying away as fast as he could. The boy in question exclaimed in shock and his companion swirled around, watching the sag fly in open-mouthed disbelief.

Just a second more, and Minho could have gotten the bag out and away from them, but he was too late. The dark pulse returned even harsher this time, hitting Minho’s senses and making him sick in his stomach. With the pulse came something akin to a growl, and before anyone could even think of running, the pack exploded.

Felix screamed, not in time to shift and fly away, while Minho shot his hands to the ceiling and summoned a protective shield as fast as he could. Glass shattered and sliced through the air while the ceiling rocked with the force, the entire ground shaking and the support beams groaning inside the walls. Dust blew up and obscured everyone from view, all of it vanishing in the blink of a second. The darkness wasn’t physical, but still it hit anyone in close range like a real explosion would, and everyone inside the dining area got slung away, a scream tearing out of the travelers as they collided with the tables. Minho’s barrier was a haphazard one and not strong enough to protect anyone, but at least it kept the entire building from collapsing on them. Nevertheless, he and Felix were flung against the walls, the air knocked out of him by an unseen force.

He lost his consciousness before he ever hit the ground.

“Minho, please…”

“Please open your eyes…”

“You can’t be- this has to work-”

“Please, I- I love you.”

Minho came to with a groan, his head killing him. He weakly pushed himself up, startling when some kind of cloth fell from his forehead and into his lap. He picked it up, sniffing at the unusual smell that it left behind. He didn’t know much about herbs, but it smelled earthy, like something from the flower shop on the other side of the street. Looking up, he realized the others were spread around the room, leaning against walls and being tended to by Changbin, Hyunjin and a man Minho had seen only once or twice before.

From close by, Felix found his gaze, and a wobbly smile grew on his lips.

“Hyung… you’re awake.”

Glittery blood coated the side of his face, and as Hyunjin carefully tied a sling around the pixie’s arm, Minho realized the boy was shirtless and a giant bruise was already forming on his shoulder. He blinked, his thoughts feeling far too sluggish still.

“...getting new herbs, so just wait for a bit and I can treat that leg of yours,” he could hear the familiar man tell the two travelers as he dabbed something like an ointment on their faces. He turned around, meeting Minho’s eyes, and that’s when he remembered where he had seen him before.

The owner of the flower shop. Bang Chan. Why was he here?

“You should try not to move too much, Lix,” Changbin said, grunting when he stood up and made his way over to Minho, leaving Hyunjin behind to care for him further. “And neither should you, hyung. You probably have a concussion.”

“What… happened?” Minho got out, though his tongue felt like lead. Changbin nodded to the middle of the room, where a large scorched mark painted the floor black.

“If what they say is true-” Changbin gestured to the boys. “-they must have brought a cursed object with them without knowing it was even magical. The thing must have reacted to your wards and decided to detonate itself before it could be cleansed. Some kind of nasty fail safe. We’re lucky you managed to protect the shop, otherwise we’d all have been buried beneath the rubble right now.”

And indeed, a scan around the room showed that not much of the cafe had been damaged in the blast, only the front store window had been shattered completely, its glass spread out across the entire floor. Minho sighed. That was going to be a pain to clean up.

“Mr. Bang saw the explosion and immediately went to help with his apprentice,” Changbin went on. “If it weren’t for their quick thinking and remedies, you would have all been knocked out for much longer.” He crouched down beside Minho, watching him with concern. “So how are you feeling? They gave you something for your head and for your magic, they… they apparently knew all this time.”

“About all of us?” Minho asked, blanching. Changbin nodded. They both looked over to Mr. Bang, who was quietly reassuring the travelers as he healed them with the faintest glow to his hands. Minho had never known there was another magical shop this close by. All these years, he thought they were the only one. That’s why they did their best to hide, to stay as inconspicuous as possible and to keep a low profile. If he had known they didn’t have to pretend so much, that they could have asked for advice or company… Minho had a hard time wrapping his head around the alternate reality that could have been.

“Come on, hyung, you should rest. Let me help you upstairs.”

Minho let Changbin pull him up without any fuss, too tired to do anything else but think about the bed waiting for him. He’d already been tired after their long work day, but now he felt like he could crash and sleep for a week. Still, the call of his bed was not enough to make him forget about the guests that were still in their vicinity, so just before they got to the back door, Minho stopped and turned towards the travelers.

“You can all come upstairs too. I’ve got enough spare beds for everyone and I feel like you have a lot of questions for us if you really didn’t know about magic. The only thing I want in return is for you to help with cleaning up the shop later.”

The wounded boys perked up and nodded in tandem.

“Thank you so much,” the one with the now broken glasses said. Minho nodded and let Changbin pull him forward. As they slowly ascended the stairs, Minho remembered a thing Changbin had said earlier.

“I never knew Mr. Bang had an apprentice,” he said. Changbin hummed in surprise.

“You didn’t? He stops by the cafe pretty often. He said he’s been coming here for years.”

“What’s his name? Maybe I do know him.”

“Han Jisung.”

Downstairs, the candle surged to the highest peak it ever had, right as Minho sucked in a breath. The magic rushed through the air, all the way to his lungs and dizzying his head with its intensity. Before he could even let out another sound, his eyes rolled to the back of his head and he slumped in Changbin’s hold.

“Hyung!”

“This has got to be the stupidest thing you’ve ever done, Sung! Accepting a cursed object? How could you not feel the power radiating off of it!”

“How could I have known the coin was cursed, it’s not like we all have magical synesthesia! Hyung, I swear I would have never touched the damn thing if I’d known-”

“But you did! You did and now- Sung? Sung, what’s wrong?”

“I- I don’t… something’s wrong, I can’t feel- Hyung, what’s happening to me?”

“Sung? Hey, hey, look at me. You’re okay, you’re-”

Hands phasing through each other, skin becoming transparent, eyes fearfully connecting.

“Sung, stay with me, I’m gonna- I’m gonna find a cure for this.”

“Hyung, I don’t feel so good…”

“I know, but just- Just stay with me, okay? Sung?”

A mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out. The boy in front of him, fading out of existence, suddenly scattering into a million pieces like a dandelion in the wind. Empty hands reaching out to stop it, to save him before it’s too late.

“No, no- NO, JISUNG!”

The boy, gone like he never existed. Another one, falling to his knees, broken and alone.

Forever.

A new herby cloth fell from his forehead when he woke up, which Minho now knew must be the work of Mr. Bang and his apprentice. He blinked awake, foggy mind having trouble waking up, but at least he recognized his bed room around him. There was no one with him, which he might have found strange if it weren’t for the small meal on his bedside table. They probably wanted him to rest as much as possible, and left him in peace to sleep.

Still, they must have felt him waking up across the bond they shared when inside the cafe, so he wasn’t surprised at all when the door opened only a minute later, Hyunjin poking his head in.

“Hey, hyung, how are you feeling?”

He stepped inside the room, smiling down at Minho as stopped just beside the bed. His eyes flitted to Minho’s legs and back, as if checking to see if he was still in one piece.

“Head hurts,” Minho answered, straight to the point as always. “But other than that I’m fine. What about the others?”

Hyunjin chuckled, shaking his head. “Of course, that’s the first thing you ask. Everyone’s fine. Lix got a shoulder contusion and a small concussion. Seungmin and Jeongin got hit the most by the shards so they have a lot of tiny cuts, but other than a couple of extra bruises they are fine. You’re the only one who collapsed twice. But-” Hyunjin grinned. “-it’s all thanks to our lovely Jisung here that you’re doing better already.”

Minho sucked in a breath, the memory slamming into him of why he’d fainted the second time. Either his boys were playing a very elaborate, painful prank, or they were serious, not even realizing how much they cut into Minho every time they said that name.

No, no they couldn’t be serious. This had to be just a large misunderstanding. Someone else happened to have the same name, or they had found Minho’s old pictures he still kept in the attic or they had somehow heard about him-

“Hyunjin, you need to answer me seriously right now,” he said slowly, swallowing as he clasped his trembling hands together. “You said ‘Jisung’, right? Did you mean Han Jisung?”

“Yes?” Hyunjin cocked his head in confusion, eyes flitting away from Minho again. Minho followed it, but Hyunjin didn’t seem to look at anything but the wall there. A very bad feeling started to make Minho sick all over again.

“And he is… here? Right now?”

Hyunjin’s eyes widened marginally and an awkward chuckle left him. “Hyung, what kind of question is that? Of course he is. He’s sitting right on the edge of your bed.”

Minho’s head snapped to the side, trying to see what Hyunjin was seeing. There was nothing there. Not even an indent in the mattress, meaning that either Hyunjin was still messing with him or…

“And is he… a ghost?”

“What?” Hyunjin exclaimed loudly. His hand shot out and stopped mid-air, his palm flat down as if he was resting it on something solid. “No, of course not! He’s right here!”

Minho’s lungs started to have trouble pulling in air. He stared at the empty air, his stomach twisting.

Before he could say anything more, Hyunjin suddenly looked at the wall again, gasping.

“What? What do you mean ‘he can’t see you’?”

“Oh my Gods,” Minho put his hands over his mouth, feeling the telltale burning of tears grow behind his eyes. He’d never felt as fragile as he had now, about to ask the most painful question he’d ever asked. “Jisung, are you… are you really here? For all this time, have you- have you been here?”

After a beat of silence, Hyunjin frowned, eyes going back and forth between Minho and the empty air. “So wait, you’re saying you two know each other? And that he can’t see you? How long have you been invisible to him?”

A sob tore through Minho unannounced, and he bent over, his whole frame trembling with grief. All of what he thought was real, all his years of suffering, of longing, of pain, hadn’t been the truth at all. Jisung had been there, not disintegrated, not dead, not lost forever. He’d lived, hung around, maybe even tried to talk to Minho and he had never known. Nobody had ever told him his lover was this close. No one even knew they knew each other, all of the people that had known long since passed away or moved to other places.

“Jisung…” he sobbed, hand reaching out to nothing in a desperate hope to feel something, anything that could indicate the boy was actually here. “Sungie-”

Hyunjin gasped and took a step back, his face one of horror. He pointed an accusing finger to the air. “How did he pass through you?! Jisung, why have you never told me you’re a ghost?! Oh my Lord, how did you… w-what? You are only invisible to him? You- Oh my- Jisung, that’s-”

Hyunjin’s eyes got misty too and he covered his mouth with a hand, making a wounded noise.

“Minho-hyung…he says he still loves you. That he’s never stopped loving you, even when you didn’t know he was alive.”

Minho broke. He sobbed, heart ripping into a million pieces as the reality of it all crashed down on him. All of these years, Jisung had been right there. Waiting for him to realize, waiting for someone to tell him, waiting to be found. And Minho had failed. He’d waited and mourned and cried for a love that wasn’t lost at all, but simply broken. He’d never been alone, not truly, and that-

He didn’t think he could handle that.

“Sung, I’m sorry,” he cried, squeezing his eyes shut as tears streamed down. “I’m so, so sorry I hurt you for all these years. I- I’ve missed you so much. Gods, that must have been- that must have been horrible. How many times have you tried to talk to me? Why didn’t you send Mr. Bang or- or told the boys here to talk to me or- Why didn’t you give me a sign?”

Hyunjin’s shaking voice answered, though it was clear that he was translating for Jisung.

“He’s never been able to,” he said, “He’s… he’s tried. He’s tried telling anyone what happened, but his words always stopped before he could. His throat would close up, and his hand burned. He says… Huh? What’s that?”

Hyunjin stepped forward, looking at something curiously. “He’s holding up his hand and there’s a sort of circle on it? There’s a pattern, like a coin, but it looks like it’s burned into his skin, like- Wait, you’re saying it was a coin? That’s from a cursed coin that burned itself into your hand and made you invisible? What the hell, Jisung! Aren’t you a literal medical herbs apprentice? How have you still not found a way to reverse or heal this?”

Minho wanted to stop crying already, but every revelation was shattering his world again and again. The coin. That damned cursed object Jisung had accepted from a customer who refused to pay for their drink with normal money. The cafe kept pulling magical people and things with magical properties its way, he’d always been aware of that. But Minho had also always had a strict policy for accepting other types of magic, especially when even the owner of it didn’t know exactly what it did. And this… this had been the time it had actually gone wrong. Jisung couldn’t have known the large, golden coin had been cursed, nor had the customer probably known, but it had been and if Jisung had just followed the rules they could have been both spared from so much pain.

“Hyunjin, can you- can you hold him for me, please?” Minho said, his voice unintentionally bordering on begging. He clutched his hands against his chest, feeling like he’d combust if he wouldn’t stop crying soon. He wished he could hold Jisung close, reassure him he also always loved him and that he never stopped waiting. He wished this curse would have never separated them, that Jisung had been able to reach out and wipe away the tears all those years.

Hyunjin let out a shuddering breath, but complied. To Minho it looked uncanny how Hyunjin lowered himself and wound his arms around nothing but empty air, but even then, knowing Jisung was there, so close and actually real, put a tiny band aid over his heart.

“Thank you,” he sniffed. “Sung, you need to know that I never stopped loving you, o-okay? All those years I waited, I- I lit this candle, it was meant to bring you home if you were lost. I didn’t know you were never- that you never left. Sung, I’m so sorry. I love you so much. I love you so much-”

For what felt like hours, Hyunjin held Jisung for him while he cried, airing out all of his grief and pain and letting them go. Once he finally got his breathing under control, he forced his voice to stand strong as he made the most important vow of his life.

“Sung, I’m gonna save you, I promise. I’m gonna be able to hold you again, even if it’s the last thing I do.”

Celestial magic was one of the most ancient and strongest types of magic. Minho would stop at nothing to find the cure for this curse, even if it would take every drop of magic he had.

Jisung had to come home to him.

Surprisingly enough, Seungmin and Jeongin were apparently artifact collectors. Never having known that the so-called magical properties of the objects they collected were real and not just folklore, they came forward with scrolls upon scrolls with ancient texts and books full of curses and curse breakers. The cafe promptly became a library, and every single one of its staff dove into the ancient texts to search for that one coin. Even Mr. Bang, Jisung and the two travelers wanted to help, and so after they had swept the glass shards away and Minho had materialized a new window under the silver, healing light of the moon, they had dispersed along the dining area tables and got to work.

The entire night, they read, paged through books and searched everywhere they knew to look. Minho even consulted the spirits he lended his powers from, but they couldn’t offer much advice. When the moon swapped places with the sun, Felix made sure to put a sign outside the cafe stating it was closed for the day. Hyunjin made them all breakfast, and eventually when Changbin fell asleep on the books and started snoring like a dying swine, he and Mr. Bang carried the dwarf upstairs.

Minho made sure not to look at the table Jisung was supposed to sit at. He didn’t want to see an unmoving book, an empty chair and the suffocating nothingness that was supposed to be his lover. He buried him in the books instead, murmuring with Seungmin who had all sorts of questions about magic, but at the same time appeared to be a genius linguist who could translate a lot of the ancient texts for Minho. They exchanged information like they were treasures meant for their ears only, and for every question about Minho’s cafe, his workers or his lineage, Minho pushed another text Seungmin’s way and watched in amazement how the boy just read what it said without any hesitation.

When lunch time rolled around, Minho insisted on heating up some of his cafe’s specialties, taking coffee orders and arranging the food all across the counter so everyone could have their pick. It almost felt like a party, had it not been for the devastating truth they were trying so hard to turn around.

At sunset that day, Jeongin was the one to exclaim in happiness.

“I’ve found it! I think this is it!”

Everyone immediately left their spots and surrounded the human, scanning the page as Seungmin translated the text.

“The Gold of Isolation has been melted into a coin by the late king Stephan the third. It looks barely bigger than a normal one, but its properties go far beyond its golden shine and significant weight. Any person who touches it for too long will slowly absorb the Gold of Isolation, and it will shield their heart. Not in a physical sense, but from the one who it belongs to. Here, it can mean a family member, a friend or a lover—anyone who the cursed one considers to hold their heart. The Gold of Isolation will make it impossible to share their love, were it physically, verbally, or in any other way. As long as the significant other is unaware of this shield, the curse will even prevent the victim from speaking about the curse, as it will do anything to stay intact.”

“Okay, but how can we break it?” Hyunjin interrupted impatiently. “I don’t care what it does exactly, we need to know how to bring Minho-hyung and Jisung back together again!”

“I was getting to that,” Seungmin said with a sigh. He pointed to a passage at the end of the page. “Here it says, in order to remove the curse, one needs to pierce the shield and remove it from the heart so that the love can break free once more.”

“Pierce the shield? We’re not talking about stabbing Jisung’s heart, are we?” Changbin asked, alarm in his tone. Seungmin shook his head, even though he couldn’t offer another answer. The text ended there. The book did not say clearly what ‘piercing’ the shield meant.

“I might have an idea?” Jeongin said. “But you’re not gonna like it.” He said the last part to Minho, which already put him on edge.

“What is it?”

“Well… what if by piercing the shield, you need to pierce the heart too? The love? What if you need to reject Jisung-ssi in order to break through his isolation?”

Minho stepped back as if recoiling from a physical hit. “Absolutely not.”

The others stared at him in surprise.

“Wow,” Felix said, “you said that at the exact same time.”

Minho stilled, realizing half of the people present were looking right next to him. He barely resisted the urge to look, knowing that Jisung must be standing there. It wouldn’t do anything for him anyway. The younger was blocked from him, isolated and held back from even sharing a single glance.

“Okay, so no breaking up today,” Mr. Bang said. “What if piercing the shield is more literal? What if pain breaks the curse?” He winced after a second, looking next to Minho. “Ah, you’re right. There’s no way your clumsiness wouldn’t have broken it already if that was the case.”

Minho blinked quickly at the cursed tears threatening to spill again. That’s right. Jisung had always been prone to clumsiness, it had been one of his most adorable traits.

“So no physical or emotional pain… what else can ‘pierce’ something then?” Hyunjin asked.

“Maybe Minho-hyung has to touch Jisung in order to pierce his isolation?” Felix wondered.

Both Minho and Hyunjin shook their heads.

“I already tried,” Minho confessed. “Apparently my hand passed right through him.”

The group deflated at that, expressions of helplessness a shared sign of how they were no closer to figuring this out. Until Seungmin read the text again, mumbling it to himself, and suddenly he perked up, head lifting up with a sparkle in his eyes.

“What if the love breaking free is already the way the shield will be broken?” he asked, nodding to himself as if what he said made all sense. “Yes, what if the love just needs a way to reach the recipient and that will be enough to shatter the isolation? What if physical touch through something else, a sign of love or a message of some kind, would work in its stead?”

“Min, you’re not making any sense,” Jeongin said.

Seungmin didn’t seem to care he was rambling, as he stood up, looking straight at Minho as if he’d invented a flying machine that could carry magicless humans across the sky.

“Minho-ssi, Jisung-ssi, I think I know how to break the curse. You need an act of love to break through the veil, and because you can’t hear or touch or see anything from him, what if you got indirect proof of his love? Something that you will undeniably know is a declaration from Jisung even if he can’t say it himself?”

“Wait, you think a gift will work?” Changbin asked. “It can’t be that easy, can it?”

“No, no, it has to be something special,” Seungmin went on. “Something that could not possibly be from someone else or by someone else. Something that shows Jisung’s love no matter how much the curse will try to silence it. Something so profound that Minho-ssi will feel it in his heart and the love will have finally found its destination.”

“Wow… that sounds beautiful when you say it like that,” Felix murmured. The others in the room nodded, and a hint of hope was starting to bloom between them.

“Okay, so how does he do that?” Minho asked, and judging by the flitting eyes, he and Jisung had once again spoken at the same time.

“Well, think of something nobody else would think means something. Something that only the two of you share. Something that means the world to only you.” Seungmin met Minho’s eyes with excitement brimming in his tone. He clearly seemed to think Minho already knew what he was talking about, as if something like that could actually exist. Something that only he and Jisung shared? Something that didn’t mean anything to anyone else but them?

Felix hummed in a questioning tone. “Hm? Jisungie, you think you know something?”

The group followed the empty air across the room, and Minho hated that he didn’t know where Jisung was. He seemed to be walking towards the counter, leaving the others around the table in favor of getting something.

All of a sudden, a tug made Minho jolt, and he placed a hand on his chest as he frowned in confusion. His heart, why was it… Oh. He might have an idea of what Jisung was trying to do.

“Sung,” he whispered, throat clogged with emotion. He looked across the room to the little window there. The candle was softly burning, a steady flame that never grew taller or smaller no matter how many years and things had tried to bring it down. Minho’s eyes widened as he finally saw the flame grow, the colors flickering above its wax like a hand was fanning above or even through it.

“That’s genius…”

Unbidden, his vision became muddled with tears, the tugging at his heart growing stronger. All this time, Minho had unintentionally given the curse a tangible form. His loneliness, channeled into that tiny flame that would live for as long as his isolation persisted. Jisung was fanning it, trying to put it out and effectively end his suffering. He might think it was just symbolic or he might realize just what he was doing, but…

That flame was the center of Minho’s magic. After festering and feeding it for all these years, it had become an integral part of the kind of magic he used. Sad, broken, grieving, all of it had changed his magic core and made it forlorn, a sorrowful kind of energy that would always draw from the flame like it was the only warmth it could find anymore. Jisung touching it, trying to take it—it meant he was touching Minho’s magic. Directly.

This was the closest Jisung could get to touching Minho physically, and he could feel it. They could both probably feel it.

The candle had been Minho’s reality for far too long. Now, Jisung was changing that.

His attempt touched Minho, because all of a sudden, he could feel something die inside of him.

Not in a bad sense. It was like the ending of a chapter, like the setting of the sun outside, like a walk back home after a long, suffering day at another place. It was like a forehead kiss wishing him goodnight or a farewell hug after an emotional conversation. The flame started slimming, the warmth dimming, the colors disappearing slowly.

The candle was going out. It was working. Jisung was putting it out.

He was ending Minho’s suffering.

A tear ran down Minho’s cheek, the warmth there signalling the finality of it all.

Sparks came from across the room, gathering, attaching to something, a bright light starting to envelop a shape that looked suspiciously like a person.

“Sung…”

The light had barely faded before Minho was crossing the room, crushing the younger in a hug so tight neither could breathe. Neither wanted anyway, because this hug was long overdue.

“Sung, baby, you’re here. You’re really here.”

“I am,” Jisung murmured against his chest. He’d always been delightfully smaller, and so he perfectly fit under Minho’s chin, his head slotting into the space there like he was made for it. Minho’s hands cradled a warm, steady back, and he could feel the other breathe, his heart beat, his magic pulse, his soul live. Jisung was alive. He still couldn’t believe it.

Without any more words, he separated from the hug just enough to be able to look Jisung in the eyes, those beautiful, warm brown eyes that no flame could ever come close to, and then he leaned down, his hands cupping Jisung’s soft cheeks and their lips meeting. The kiss was salty from their tears, but even then it tasted sweet. Years of longing all pressed him to keep Jisung as close as he could, never wanting to let him go ever again. He thought Jisung had died that day. He thought the curse had obliterated him, taken him away from Minho and left him alone in this life. He thought the only way to meet again would have been at the end of his days as he would have joined the younger in heaven.

He couldn’t be happier that wasn’t true. Jisung was here now. Real, tangible and so, so warm. The candle had never been able to come close to this warmth. Never been able to come close to the comfort the boy’s smile brought, to the way he filled a space and made everything a home. It had never soothed Minho as much as holding Jisung did, and he would never, never take it for granted ever again.

When they finally broke the kiss, Minho was breathless, but he’d never loved the feeling more. He leaned forward and rested their foreheads together, a giddy grin growing on his face without his say so.

“I really, really love you,” he murmured in the space between them. Jisung giggled softly.

“I love you too, hyung. So, so much. You’ll never know how much I love you.”

Minho’s smile was brighter than any flame could ever be.

“I think I’m starting to understand now, but please show me again?”

Jisung had never been able to say no to his requests, and so he easily leaned in, rising on his toes until he was the one kissing Minho this time. Minho positively melted. He’d barely survived without this, and he knew, would it be taken away again, then that would be it. He would be done for.

For Jisung’s heart didn’t just belong to Minho, Minho’s also belonged to Jisung. This love was theirs, fated to be more magical than any blessing or curse could ever be. Even if the cafe had been built from magic and love, it never came close.

But Minho would try to make it so. With Jisung by his side again, everything would change for the better. And that first change, he knew, would come sooner rather than later.

“Hey, Seungmin,” he called, only turning his face halfway to the group as he still held Jisung securely in his arms. “What do you think about a job as a spell translator at the cafe? I have far too many old recipe books in the attic that I’ve never been able to read. I’ve got empty rooms too, and staff get a cafe discount that is honestly to die for. Jeongin, I think your ability to hold dark magic close could be more than useful in Mr. Bang’s shop.”

He grinned, watching the two travelers look at each other with happy surprise on their faces. Even Mr. Bang looked surprised, as he’d probably not expected Minho to figure him out. A flower shop with a witch as its apprentice? It was clearly a front, just like the cafe was, for something far more magical. And what else fit a place with herbs and healing magic more than a dark magic cleansing operation? Clearly, Mr. Bang was more than he seemed, and Minho couldn’t wait to learn more about the magic shop across from them.

“We would love to,” Jeongin said, nodding with Seungmin at the offer. Mr. bang laughed.

“Did you just hire someone for me, Minho-ssi? I don’t think that’s how this is supposed to work. Oh, and please, call me Chan already. I’ve been trying to make Jisung say it for years now and he still refuses.”

“That’s because Mr. Bang is more fun to complain about,” Jisung mumbled, making Minho snort.

“Hm, I agree. You’ll have to convince me of your cause before I stop, Mr. Bang.”

He and Jisung giggled together and Minho turned back to the boy in his arms. Jisung’s bright eyes gazed back, a sight Minho could let himself get lost in forever. Finally, because he could, he went in for another kiss.

Gods, how he’d missed this.

Chapter Text

Something that not a lot of people knew about Hyunjin, was that he tried to plan ahead as much as he could. He was the type to wake up at 4 AM just to be two hours earlier at school than the others so he could practice dance before his academic lessons started. He was the type to do most of his homework during lunch and self study periods, because he wanted to return to the company as soon as the last bell rang. He was the kind of person who practiced his raps diligently every day, who had his schedule planned out for the next two months and who never deviated.

The only thing people saw was his pretty face, and immediately guessed him to be shallow. “You’ll debut anyway with a face like yours, so why would you even try?” they’d sneer at him, and then, behind his back, they’d add “it’s not like you know what it feels like to actually work hard for something.”

That’s the thing that Hyunjin hated to hear the most. That he was ‘pretty’. That he didn’t need to work. That he didn’t know how to.

His arm was filled with permanent marker. First, only because he wanted to make sure he didn’t forget a single thing on his schedule. His lessons, his homework, his different vocal and dancing lessons, he all wrote it down in neat little lists on the inside of his arm, hidden under his school uniform or big hoodies. But then when the comments kept coming and kept hitting him where it hurt, the permanent marker’s purpose changed. Instead of innocent little lists, he started putting other words there.

Work harder, was the one he wrote the most, just so he wouldn’t forget his own rhetoric. He might have been an awful dancer still, but he refused to give up hope. He might not get far with his voice for singing or rapping, but he kept working on his practice, pressing the marker between his lips and screaming out the lyrics as many times as needed.

Not pretty, was the one that followed soon after. It helped, strangely enough, to contradict the other trainees’ words. The ones his schoolmates uttered in between classes or when they’d walk straight past him during lunch. “What’s a pretty face like that studying for during lunch? He’ll get into a good university anyway.” But no, he wasn’t pretty. If he just believed that, then his hard work made more sense. No, Hyunjin wasn’t pretty, because a pretty person didn’t need to work hard and he did, so obviously all the others were wrong about him.

Stupid. This one was on accident once. He had been feeling tired and grumpy, and when he’d stumbled after the umpteenth time practicing the same dance routine, he’d ripped a permanent marker out of his bag in frustration, writing it in big, sharp letters on his arm. He was stupid. So, so stupid that he needed to work harder.

Useless. That one, he had accepted a long time ago. He’d heard it when he’d told his uncle he was going to try to be an idol, and the man had promptly thrown his glass across the room, barely missing Hyunjin’s head. Useless, he’d called him, angry that a cousin of his would ever try to be such an attention-seeker. His dance teachers seemed to agree, as they never thought Hyunjin had made the right choice. He couldn’t dance, so they said. Hyunjin agreed, but he wasn’t ready to give up on it yet. “I’ll become the main dancer of the group!” he’d once blurted out in a fit of frustration. Nobody had stopped laughing for minutes afterwards.

His arm, now filled with black stripes and hurtful words, grounded him. It was one of the only things that did. Every time he felt like floating away, when the days blurred together and he was so, so tired, he’d look at it and remember. Right; he still had a lot of work to do. His dream wasn’t getting closer if he just sat and waited. He had to work for it. He would work for it. If he just followed his plan, his schedule, then everything would work out.

It’s what drove him forward when the mirror was fogged up by the heat of extortion in the room at 5 AM, when his legs shook and when his arms refused to cooperate or even hold a pencil anymore. When the words blurred together during his math exam, or when trainees whispered behind his back again. Work harder. Not Pretty. Stupid. Useless.

He needed to do his ultimate best. He needed to be recognized, to be acknowledged, to be seen. Every monthly evaluation, again and again and again, he gave his all, soaking up the feedback that he wasn’t enough yet, but his pretty face made him desirable. They’d say he was wooden, too stiff, that his vocals were unstable, high and breathy when it shouldn’t be. They’d tell him he had to try harder or that he should switch over to modeling instead.

But he didn’t. He wanted to be an idol.

Work harder. Not Pretty. Stupid. Useless.

His breath came out in shallow puffs as he danced, the world outside asleep, the day not yet started for anyone but him. His clothes stuck to his skin like ropes binding him and trying to trip him up. His hair was a mess, his face blotchy and ugly.

Work harder. Not Pretty. Stupid. Useless.

He knew that. He knew that. That’s why he was here, again, filling the hours others were still asleep with more work, more training, more attempts at becoming something more than what everyone else saw him as.

Work harder. Not Pretty. Stupid. Useless.

He was trying. He was trying so hard. Why couldn’t it be enough? Why did the world not understand that it would never be enough? He didn’t want to debut because people thought he had the right face, he wanted to debut because he wanted to be worth it.

His knees wobbled, and before he knew it, he collapsed, a cry leaving his lips as the world tilted and pain bloomed in his knee. His arms shot out to support him, but those were too weak, his hands too slippery, and he fell forward, too disorientated to do anything but fall onto his side limply, panting. His eye lids fluttered uselessly. His muscles screamed at him. His knee felt like it was on fire.

“Get up,” he growled at himself, tears of frustration budding. “Get up, dammit-”

The door to the school’s practice room opened and light streamed in from the outside. A gasp rang through the air, and suddenly, footsteps tapped across the floor as someone ran to him.

“Are you okay? Hey, can you hear me?”

The voice was small, clearly that of someone younger than him, but through his blurred vision he couldn’t see. They had the same yellow jacket as every other student of their school, but Hyunjin thought he could see black choppy beings and something silver glinting in one of their ears. An idol wannabe, most likely, here to practice as well. He was occupying the space. The other deserved the spot more.

“Hey, try to breathe through it, okay? I’ll- I’ll get a nurse, just wait-”

Hyunjin’s hand shot out before he knew it, something small inside of him desperate not to be alone.

“Don’t- Don’t leave,” he begged, pathetically so. The boy stiffened, another tiny gasp leaving him and Hyunjin’s eyes fluttered closed.

“Don’t fall asleep!” The boy practically screamed and Hyunjin winced, opening his eyes again.

“I’m not, I’m not-” he grunted, trying to push himself up. The boy immediately went to help, and together they at least managed to get Hyunjin sitting up again. He flinched, pulling his twisted leg close to him and prodding it. Oh dammit, that was going to suck at practice at the company later.

“Hey, aren’t you… Hwang Hyunjin?” the other boy asked suddenly and Hyunjin looked up. His vision was clearing, and a boy with a far too young face was starting to become visible. He thought he looked familiar.

“I am,” he said, trying to figure out where he’d seen the boy before. The other nodded.

“I’m Yang Jeongin, I’m one of the new trainees at the company. I- I really admire you, Hyunjin-sunbaenim.”

Hyunjin blinked, his words not fitting into the narrative in his mind. Admire him? Why would he? Hyunjin wasn't worth that much praise, not yet anyway.

The boy didn’t seem to understand that. “I- I really love your dance style. I wish I could be as fluid as you. And your voice has such a unique tone to it. Everyone in my group is talking about it. I wish I could be half as cool as you.”

Hyunjin knew he was dreaming now. This couldn’t be real. He’d finally pushed himself too far and now he was hallucinating, dreaming up the perfect hoobae that would drown him in the praise he’d always wanted to hear.

“I, uh, if you don't wanna go to the nurse then can you maybe… show me some moves? Or just give me some tips? I feel like I'm really far beyond the others and I really wanna show our teachers that I can do it.”

The boy—Jeongin—was looking at him with so much conviction, Hyunjin was nodding before he even realized what he was doing.

“Really?!” Jeongin exclaimed, making Hyunjin wince for the second time. He instantly lowered his voice sheepishly. “Sorry, I just can’t believe such a cool sunbaenim wants to show me some moves… can we start right now? I can dance without stretching! I’m ready right now!”

Despite himself, Hyunjin frowned. “No, you won’t dance without stretching, are you nuts? Do you want to get an injury before you ever debut?”

The boy’s eyes widened and he stood up, dropping in a stiff bow. “Sorry, sunbaenim, I didn’t mean it like that!”

Accepting that this was somehow his reality for now, Hyunjin nodded, weakly pushing himself up too. He wobbled on his feet, the world blurring for a second again, but he pushed through it. He didn’t want this kid to see him like that even if he kind of already had. If those stars in his eyes were genuine, Hyunjin would be damned if he didn’t try to live up to his fame. Slipping into the role of teacher felt unnatural and like he was playing an imposter on multiple levels, but even so, he went to stand beside Jeongin, facing the mirror.

“Okay, so what are you having trouble with? And what stretches have you learned already?”

Jeongin lit up. “Oh, I’ll show you!”

While Hyunjin couldn’t really join him in his stretches, he still watched and corrected them for the kid. After that, he watched the boy do some of the basic hip hop moves trainees learned at the start of the course, and he could easily pinpoint the details Jeongin got wrong, pointing them out to him and giving advice on how to improve. It came surprisingly easy, and soon enough, Hyunjin’s exhaustion had taken a back seat, his entire focus on doing what he loved. Dancing with Jeongin didn’t leave any space for his own thoughts. All of his focus went to the kid, analyzing his posture and his energy and correcting it where necessary.

He’d never felt like this before. Somehow, he now realized that dancing had lost its fun a long time ago, but with Jeongin, that old passion flared right back up again. Maybe it was the way the boy looked at Hyunjin like he’d hung the stars, or maybe it was the callback to old moves that Hyunjin had already mastered. Having repeated them so often had really paid off, and now these were as easy as breathing to him.

He didn’t want to think it but… maybe he could dance? At least a little bit? Jeongin seemed to think so and that kid really wasn’t as bad as he said…

The time before their school lessons was short, and it was over before they knew it, but Hyunjin found himself not really mourning the loss of his own practice. This had been fun. Even if he still felt like he could collapse and sleep forever, he didn’t mind the impromptu repeat of old techniques.

“Hey, Hyunjin-sunbaenim,” Jeongin said as he shouldered his back pack, turning around in the doorway before he left, “I know people must say this to you a lot, but… you’re actuallyreallyprettyokaybye-”

And he was gone. Hyunjin froze, gaping at the door as an unwelcome blush spread on his cheeks once the words registered. Oh, that… had actually sounded genuine. It hadn’t been like when others said it, when they wanted something from him or tried to mock him, because this kid had already gotten what he came for. He only said it because he thought he needed to voice it out loud.

And that…

That felt really good.

Not long after, Hyunjin grabbed the permanent marker for the last time.

Work harder. Not Pretty. Stupid. Useless.

Ask if Jeongin wants to practice again.

Chapter Text

“You know what I wanna do?” Jungwon had said once when they'd been having one of their precious night time conversations. They'd been sitting on Heeseung's bed right by the window, looking up at the night sky. “I want to visit someplace where the stars are super bright. I wanna go there with everyone and just stargaze for as long as possible. Lying someplace where no mosquitos can get to us and we can trace constellations until the sun rises again. Wouldn't that be lovely?”

The way Jungwon had described it did sound lovely and Heeseung hadn't hesitated for a single moment before starting to plan out this trip. Days he had filled with making sure every detail was planned for. Everything had to be perfect.

But that was before he knew the disaster that was waiting there for them. Now, soaked from the rain and sitting on his knees in the mud, he cursed that wish with all his undead heart, clutching onto the shivering, cold form of their clan's only human.

“H-hyung… I think I'm… not going to make it.”

Red streaked Heeseung's cheeks as tears of blood ran down from his eyes and he shook his head, vehemently so.

“No. No, don't say that. Just try to save your strength, the others will be here soon. We'll get you home, Jungwonnie, I promise.”

Tiny drops of red splashed onto Jungwon's pale face, the bruises from the hit already blotching his skin blue and purple. His form shuddered with every shallow, wheezy breath that left him. A weak, but tender smile tucked at his rapidly paling lips.

“I-it's okay, h-hyung… at least I-I'm not alo-one right now.”

“Just stop talking already,” Heeseung said shakily, fingers brushing desperately through the boy's wet strands and swiping them away from his forehead. “Preserve your strength, little one.”

That made Jungwon's eyes scrunch in happiness and it broke Heeseung to see it. Even when fatally wounded, their human was still so precious as to smile at that nickname he'd always loved.

When his eyes opened with some struggle again, they widened and looked past Heeseung.

“H-hyung, look. The stars… beautiful…"

Heeseung looked up and saw the clouds finally parting, showing them the sight they had originally gone to this abandoned road on top of the mountain for. Still, the sight did nothing to him, as the playful intent of their visit had long since morphed into something dark and twisted. Heeseung looked down, pained by the reminder, but then his breath stopped.

Jungwon's face was still, his heart beat… was gone. His eyes, now unseeing, stared up at those same damn stars that had taken him from them.

Heeseung shook him lightly.

“Won? Jungwonnie? Hey, wake up! Don't die on me here! Jungwon! Yang Jungwon!!”

His cold hands did nothing to bring back the warmth his human had previously had. No matter how tight he held him, he couldn’t hold on to the life that was quickly fading before his eyes. His pale fingers shook as he tapped the boy's face and he got no reaction, the undeniable truth of the silence in the human's chest too much for Heeseung to accept.

“No, no, NO-”

Before he knew it, he was bending over Jungwon's dead body, screaming like the world was ending. For him, it really was.

“JUNGWON!”

His eyes had turned a blood red, his fangs prolonged and his heart beating faster than any normal human's could. Because that was one thing no one realized about vampires: they had hearts, emotions, love—all of it. They could get hurt, they could die, and they could get heart break so severe it would kill them slowly and without mercy.

But Heeseung would be damned if he let that happen to him.

“I'm sorry,” he sobbed, tightening his hold on the boy on his lap. “Please forgive me for this someday.”

He squeezed his eyes shut for a second, hating what he had decided. Then, they snapped open, bright scarlet determination zeroing in on the dying veins in the boy's neck before he lunged for them. Teeth pierced skin, and when he pulled away immediately, pinpricks of red budded from the wounds. Heeseung wasted no time biting into his own hand and putting it right on top of Jungwon's neck. Then, he moved his hands to the boy’s chest, pumping his heart, rhythmic pushes forcing the bloodstream to make one weak attempt at life. As long as the cursed blood reached the boy's heart, it would work. It had to.

“Come on, come on, you have to work-!”

Heeseung huffed and pushed up and down, waiting for a sign, anything that would show him he hadn't been too late. A tickle of air, a twitch of limbs—anything.

“Jungwon, you have to LIVE!”

And with a final push, a sudden jolt went through Jungeon's body and his eyes snapped open like a flip had been switched. Blood was seeping into those dark eyes of his, the usual dark, warm brown invaded by ruby, the unnatural color glinting as they stared unseeing at the stars.

Heeseung stilled, not daring to speak as he watched the transformation unfold. He'd never seen it happen like this. Not with someone already dead. He didn't know what would happen to Jungwon now, if he'd be the same kid they'd grown up with, if he would ever forgive him for killing him and then changing him in this irreversible way. Maybe he would never. Maybe he would hate Heeseung for all eternity, but then he'd just have to live with that. He didn't regret it. He would always make the same choice again.

Jungwon's mouth opened in a silent scream, the sound of his teeth cracking and stretching echoing through the night. His heartbeat finally returned, but it was faster now, inhuman and fast even for a vampire. His body pulled taut, his back arching as his hands curled into clawed weapons and his muscles cramped and fought against the virus now running through his blood. His strength was increasing, his skin was changing.

And he looked to be in pure, silent agony.

“Jungwonnie…?”

Heeseung had never seen it like this. As a born vampire, he hadn't even had a transformation of his own, but he knew from some of the other boys that it wasn't supposed to be this painful. It felt weird, uncanny, but not like you were dying all over again. Not like how Jungwon was still screaming without sound, blood leaking from the corners of his eyes.

As the boy writhed, he slipped out of Heeseung's hold. Heeseung could only watch as Jungwon fought against the invisible force wrecking his body, twisting and curling against the pavement.

But then all at once, Jungwon stilled, his face turned away from Heeseung. The vampire waited with baited breath.

“Jungwonnie…?”

For a beat, nothing happened, the night undisturbed. Then, Jungeon's head snapped to him so fast he could hear his neck creaking, and eyes of blood glared at him with so much animosity that his heart stopped.

That wasn't Jungwon anymore. Heeseung's eyes widened with the realization, the pure hatred he could see in that gaze chilling him to his core.

Without warning, Jungwon suddenly disappeared, the boy laying on the ground and between one second and the next straight up vanishing into thin air. Hesseung gasped, looking up to see the boy sprinting down the road, right to where the crashed car was still smoking against the tree it had hit after barreling over Jungwon.

There was still a faint heartbeat in the vehicle, and the smell of blood stenched the air.

“Jungwon, no-!”

Heeseung was on his feet in a flash, rushing after him and praying he'd be on time. If they ever got their Jungwon back, he would never forgive himself if he'd killed another human, even if that person had killed him first.

He wasn't fast enough to get to the car before Jungwon had pulled the door right from its hinges and thrown it away, reaching for the unconscious human inside with a hunger that was practically radiating off of him in waves. Heeseung finally got to him just on time to snatch his arm away, wrenching it behind his back and immediately taking the other one too.

“Snap out of it, Jungwonnie, this isn't you! You're not a killer!”

A high, monstrous shriek came from Jungwon's throat and he thrashed in Heeseung's arms, his jaw opening and closing with his fangs on full display. They could both hear the blood in the human's veins, could both smell it come from the wounds the human had sustained from the shattered glass shards. For Heeseung, those sensations were easily ignored, but for Jungwon, nothing else seemed to matter anymore. He had a one track mind for blood now, needing to satiate his hunger, needing to suck it right from the human's body until they died.

Heeseung felt his eyes burning at the thought that he had made Jungwon like that, that this was all his fault and the other would have to deal with it now for the rest of time.

“I'm so sorry, Jungwonnie,” he said, begging to the universe that the boy would hear him if he was still somewhere inside of there. “I'm so sorry.”

Jungwon shrieked again and again, fighting to get free, only thinking of feeding.

Heeseung saw no choice. He took in a shaky breath and then swiftly brought down his hand on the boy's neck. The effect was instant and Jungwon sagged in his hold, knocked unconscious. More of those treacherous tears spilled down Heeseung's cheeks.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. We'll get you back, Jungwonnie, I promise."

It wasn't long before the others found them like that, bloodied and broken. Heeseung could see the exact moment they realized what he'd done, the irreparable damage he'd caused and the grief that came with that knowledge. All he could do was wait for their reactions, to see if they'd scorn him and take Jungwon away or if they'd cry, maybe curse him out for killing their human.

Surprisingly, that wasn't what happened. Instead, Jay kneeled down beside him and offered a sad smile.

“Let's take him home.”

And they helped Heeseung up, letting him hold Jungwon as if knowing that he'd lose it if he were to be separated from him right now. They even left him alone at Jungwon's bedside once they’d gotten them home, soon returning with fresh clothes and a bowl of water to clean the blood off of them. They worked silently, the grief passing between them remaining unspoken.

And when Jake pulled away Jungwon's collar and they all saw the scars that the puncture wounds had left, it was as if reality finally set in.

Their human wasn't human anymore. Their clan would never be the same again.

“I know we don't need to sleep much, but you still look awful. Let us take over for a bit, hyung.”

Jay stood in the doorway as if hesitant to come in. Heeseung's slumped figure didn't respond, his dark eyes staring at the unconscious fletchling in the bed as if staring would help him wake up sooner.

“Hyung, come on. Don’t you want to shower? Feed at least a little? Your hunger must be getting worse and you don’t wanna lose it in front of our fletchling, would you?”

That finally brought a reaction forth, as empty eyes slowly lifted to Jay. The boy gave him a look of sympathy.

“There you go, I knew you were still listening to me. So? How about it? I’ll watch over Jungwonnie while you go feed, okay? Nothing will happen to him, I promise. He’s safe here, hyung.”

It took Jay carefully helping Heeseung from his chair before he staggered out of the room, weak and hungry. Jay watched him go, feeling pain and regret for letting their oldest get to such a state. Then, his eyes dropped to the other clan member they’d failed, his heart clenching at the sight that was their now pale and sleeping fletchling. He still couldn’t believe it. Their Jungwon, their precious human, a vampire. Contrary to what their oldest seemed to believe, Jay couldn’t be more relieved that he’d turned the boy. Sure, it wasn’t something that should have been done with consent, but if the other option had been losing him? Then Jay would have made the exact same decision. Anything but having to live without him.

His watch went by uneventfully, and far too soon, Heeseung returned, a bit of light back in his irises after he’d clearly fed and put on a new shirt at least. Jay welcomed him with a smile, scooting away with the chair so the spot right next to Jungwon was free to take.

Heeseung sat down with a heavy sigh, his sight immediately returning to Jungwon as if he’d never truly left. A silence draped over them, the clock ticking being the only sound in the room. Further away in the house, they could hear the voices and movements of the others as they were either feeding, taking online lectures or preparing to head out for the day. From the moment Jungwon had been brought back home, they'd put a sort of system in place where at least two clan members were home to watch him at all times. For the rest, their lives went on, their studies and side jobs not just disappearing just because their human was hurt. Still, that didn't make it any easier for them to part with Jungwon, and it happened more often than not that they returned earlier from their outings just because they couldn't stand being away for so long.

Jay cast a glance Heeseung's way, wanting to say something but coming up short. He could see the exhaustion still clinging to the older's skin, the weariness in his eyes and the slump in his posture. The accident had hit their entire clan hard, but it certainly had done the worst to their oldest. Jay debated reaching out to other clans for advice on how to handle this, because he didn't have a clue how to help Heeseung and Jungwon at all.

He was roughly pulled out of his musings when the heart beat on the bed accelerated and a low moan came from the fletchling. He and Heeseung were on high alert immediately, so when the boy's eyes flew open and glowed a bright red, they could be on him in an instant, pinning his arms against the bed as he started writhing and growling.

“I'll keep him down! Jay, get some blood now!”

Jay nodded and let go so Heeseung could take him over for both arms. He rushed out of the room, practically flying down the stairs and to the kitchen. Sunoo and Niki were there, feeding, but they'd both heard the commotion and only watched in pained silence as Jay wrenched open the fridge and grabbed the first blood bag he could reach. He ran out of the room again, flying up the stairs and getting back to their distraught fletchling in a matter of seconds.

“Here, if you keep him still, I'll help him feed.”

He angled the bag close to Jungwon's snapping fangs, carefully twisting open the cap and letting some drops fall in his mouth. The effect was instant. Jungwon froze, his pupils dilating, and he started sucking on those few drops like it was everything he'd been waiting for. Heeseung let out a sigh of relief. Carefully, Jay held the bag closer, gradually twisting the cap to help their fletchling drink in steady, little gulps.

“I thought he'd fight us more for it,” he confessed when they'd gotten into a rhythm and Jungwon was completely lost to bliss. Heeseung hummed sadly.

“I think it's because he can sense I'm close. Mom always told me sires can have that effect on their fletchlings, even while they're feral.”

Feral. The word rang heavy between them. None of them had known what trying to revive a dead person would have for effects, but him becoming feral was one of the worst outcomes. His eyes didn't hold any recognition anymore, not for Heeseung or for the others. If this sire effect really existed, it was only on an instinctual level, because the boy didn't seem to know Heeseung anymore as a person or even a friend.

When the bag was empty and Jay slowly took it away from Jungwon, they were ready for the backlash. Being turned gave insatiable hunger for the first couple of weeks, so when Jungwon realized the flow of blood had stopped, the thrashing returned tenfold and both Jay and Heeseung needed to work together to keep him down. Inhuman cries left Jungwon's throat, the sound heartbreaking, like he thought he was dying now that he couldn't feed any longer. Jay wished they could give him more, but they needed to ration his portions. He should get used to small intakes and a regular eating schedule. No matter how impossible it might seem, ignoring his cries was all they could do for now.

“Jungwon, please come back to us!” Jay called out, huffing from the strength he had to use to keep the boy flat against the mattress. “You’re not in danger anymore, you’re safe!”

But no matter what they tried, Jungwon didn’t give any sign of hearing. He only stopped fighting when he fell unconscious from the effort, and it’s only then that the two older vampires could finally release him and let out a breath of relief.

“Jake and Niki will take our place, hyung,” Jay said, softly tugging at his shoulder. “Come on, we need a nap after this.”

Heeseung was clearly not enthusiastic about leaving their charge, but seeing as he’d just fallen asleep, this was the least dangerous time to leave him alone. Having fed too, the fletchling was set for another couple of hours. With a sigh, he finally gave in, letting Jay take him away. They met Jake in the hallway already, offering him a wry smile which he returned. Switching of the guard still felt weird, but this was just how it had to be now. Until they would get their Jungwon back, they would keep doing it. He just had to come back. He had to.

Weeks of this played out like a slow, dusty filmroll, nothing much happening except the witnessing of all the pain they’d caused. Jungwon was a wounded soul now, a person that had already left the earth but was wrenched back and trapped inside a body that wasn’t the same anymore. He needed to be stitched back together piece by piece, and sometimes, that felt like an impossible task.

But there were also moments that didn’t feel as dire.

Like right now, as Heeseung sat at the headrest of the bed, his phone in hand as he played a silly game, Jungwon’s sleeping head on his lap. The boy had just fed again, and these days, he allowed only Heeseung to be truly close. On some instinctual level, he seemed to recognize it was Heeseung who’d saved him, or maybe he only felt a distant connection because of him being his sire. Whatever the case, he was calm sometimes now, even if he was awake. He still looked at everyone with those empty red eyes of his, not a single hint of recognition in them, but it was a start.

As if hearing his thoughts, the boy stirred awake, red eyes blinking open and a tiny sigh escaping him. He didn’t start fighting, which was a relief. He was getting used to the regular feedings, which meant that he didn’t put up a fight anymore in between them. His hunger was leveling out, and his temper with it. Heeseung looked down, giving him a gentle smile.

“Hey, Jungwonnie, sleep well?”

The fletchling didn’t give a sound in response, as he probably hadn’t understood the words anyway. Still, it was the sentiment that counted, and the fletchling looked up towards Heeseung with innocent, slowly blinking eyes. Like this, he almost looked like a cat, showing his favorite person that he liked him even if he didn’t have a single memory of who this person was. Heeseung’s smile turned sad, and he patted the boy on his head.

“That’s good. Wanna watch what I was doing? I’m almost done with this level.”

Again, no answer. Instead, Jungwon yawned and closed his eyes again, snuggling closer into Heeseung’s thigh. Heeseung sighed. Yeah, he’d figured as much. Fletchlings already slept more than other vampires, but Jungwon was a special case. For some reason, he’d come out… wrong, and so he was stuck sleeping for most of his days. Maybe it was his body trying to heal, maybe it was his head trying to work through all of the trauma he’d endured. Maybe, he was just broken, a remnant of what a vampire should be since Heeseung had acted so hastilessly and ruined something in the process.

Whatever the case, Jungwon was already falling back asleep, and Heeseung dejectedly turned back to his phone.

Silently, he sent out a prayer to whatever was listening that they would get Jungwon back eventually. When he was like this, it felt like they’d still lost him on that mountain road. This fletchling was a completely different creature.

Please let Jungwon come back to us, he wished with all his heart. That was all he could do. Wishing. Waiting. Hoping. Meanwhile, Jungwon slept, blissfully unaware.

Three months. That’s how long it took before something remarkable happened. They’d just finished feeding, Sunghoon taking away the blood bag from the boy’s fangs carefully, and Jungwon blinked, following the movement curiously.

Then, he spoke.

“H…Hyung…?”

Sunghoon stopped in his tracks, and Heeseung, who was in the room with them, sucked in a sharp breath. He rushed to the bedside. Jungwon looked his way.

“Heeseung-hyung…”

Hearing his voice was incredible, an experience that couldn’t be compared to anything else. A burning started behind Heeseung’s eyes immediately, and he reached out with a shaking hand.

“Jungwonnie?”

Jungwon hummed and he leaned against the hand with his eyes falling closed.

“Hyung… thank you…” he murmured and something in Heeseung broke. Just like that night, as the wet pavement under him had dug into his knees and the warmth of the blood coating his arms had sent shivers down his spine, he felt the world tilt, his entire focus zeroing in on the boy in front of him.

“Jungwonnie, it’s really you,” he said, disbelieving. His treacherous lips wobbled with the promise of tears, but he held them back, not wanting to scare Jungwon back into his more primal state. This was the first lucid experience they had after the accident. This… he couldn’t let it slip through his fingers.

“Hm.” Jungwon hummed again, seemingly already spent from having said those few words. Heeseung couldn’t help but smile, sharing a relieved glance with Sunghoon.

“It’s alright, you can sleep now,” he promised, patting Jungwon’s head. “I’ll be there waiting for you when you wake up. You’re doing so well, Jungwonnie.”

Jungwon nodded minutely, already seeming to doze off. Heeseung couldn’t hold it back anymore, and some tears slipped past his defenses.

Jungwon was returning to them. It was really happening. All of their prayers and hard work was starting to pay off.

After the news of Jungwon’s moment of coherence, it wasn’t long before every member of their clan had stopped by for a visit. Jungwon slept through all of it, but it didn’t matter. Just having the knowledge that he’d been awake, really awake, was enough for all of them to look at the fletchling with different eyes. He was remembering them. Not just their names, but… he’d said thank you. Thanks for what, Heeseung wasn’t sure, but it had to mean something. Maybe it was for the blood, just him thanking him for the meal, but somehow it felt like more than that. Maybe it was a thanks for everything that had happened. Even for… Heeseung doing such an unspeakable thing to him.

Jay had a hand resting on his shoulder, a silent support as they watched the boy in the bed draw out soft, calm breaths. Heeseung couldn’t look away.

“He’s gonna get better,” Jay promised him. “He’s gonna come back to us.”

Heeseung didn’t make a sound, but he didn’t need to. Jay would understand his silence. He was anxious, yes, but there was hope too. Hope that Jungwon wasn’t completely gone, that Heeseung hadn’t fully erased him by bringing him back to life in such a violent way.

The only thing they could do was wait for him to return in his own time.

As always, Heeseung was nearby when Jungwon woke up lucid the next time. The boy had only needed to inhale softly, differently from when he did when asleep, and Heeseung was by his side in an instant. Jungwon’s eyes fluttered open, still red, but somehow more human than before. Heeseung waited patiently for the boy to gain his bearings.

“Hyung… good morning.”

Heeseung blinked quickly, swallowing away a lump in his throat.

“Good morning,” he said, trying to muster up a smile, “how are you feeling today?”

Jungwon’s face scrunched up a bit, frowning as if he were thinking over the question.

“I…” he opened and closed his mouth. Were it not for the eyes, Heeseung could almost pretend Jungwon had just fallen asleep after a movie night, his hair tousled, tiny red stripes on his skin showing how he’d slept peacefully. “I don’t know. Hyung, what is… why is the house so loud?”

“It’s not loud, but you can hear it better,” Heeseung explained softly. “What can you hear?”

Jungwon stared at nothing for a bit. “... The fridge? And I think… Jake-hyung is in his room? He’s reading, I think I hear the pages turning… and the tv is on… someone is feeding? Feeding… I can hear them… can hear them sucking…”

His eyes got distant, and Heeseung reached out in a flight of panic, grabbing the boy’s cheek and turning his face to him.

“Hey, Jungwonnie, you’re doing so well. What else can you hear? Can you focus for me, little one?”

Jungwon blinked, his focus returning and landing on Heeseung now. “I hear-” He looked down at Heeseung’s chest. “...your heart beat.”

“Yes, that’s right.” Heeseung grabbed one of Jungwon’s hands and guided it to his chest, letting him feel his heart.

“Why… is it so fast?”

“A vampire’s heart beat is always fast. Yours is too now.”

“I…” Jungwon’s frown returned to his face. “I don’t…”

All of a sudden, his eyes widened and blazed a brighter red, his fangs extending in response to his panic.

“The car- It hurt- Hyung, I think I- I think I died, I-”

“Shhh,” Heeseung wasted no time in leaning forward and hugging Jungwon, letting the younger breathe heavily against his shoulder. He rubbed the boy’s back, helping him calm down. “It’s okay, you’re okay. You’re alive. I bit you.”

“Hyung, you- you saved me-”

“I tried. I’m so sorry this was the only way I could think to do it.”

Jungwon shook his head, his hair tickling Heeseung’s jaw. “Don’t apologize. Please- I’m really glad you did it. I… I’d been thinking of asking you to turn me ever since I met you.”

“You-” Heeseung pulled away from the hug, searching the younger’s face in bafflement. “What?”

Jungwon hummed, his eyes dimming until only a soft sheen of red was left over the normal brown of his eyes. It had been so long since Heeseung had seen it.

“I wanted to join the clan, hyung. I was actually… planning to ask you that night under the stars. I wanted to stay with you all forever. I’m the only- I was the only human, and I didn’t want to have to leave you one day.”

Heeseung couldn’t fight the stinging in his eyes, blinking quickly. Jungwon brought a gentle hand up to wipe at them.

“You must have been beating yourself up over this, haven’t you? I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you this sooner, hyung, but I am not mad at you for doing this to me. I’m not mad at all. Sure, I hoped it would have happened with more of a discussion and preparation beforehand and at a time where you didn’t need to do it to save my life, but… I’m still really glad you turned me.”

“Jungwonnie…”

A knock on the door had the both of them looking up, and they found Jake and Jay standing in the door opening, wearing soft smiles on their faces.

“That’s good to hear, Jungwon,” Jake said. “You really had us worried.”

“Do you believe it now, hyung?” Jay added, quirking a brow Heeseung’s way. “You did the right thing, and we are all thankful to you for it. Stop beating yourself up over it already. Even Jungwonnie isn’t mad.”

Heeseung turned away, sniffing and trying to discretely wipe a tear away. “Shut up, I know that now. You ruined the moment.”

“Yah, we didn’t ruin anything, you already got far too much Jungwon time. Now it’s our turn with our new fletchling.”

Heeseung turned back in time to see a light blush spread across Jungwon’s cheeks, and it melted away any and all embarrassment he felt before. He hadn’t thought he’d ever see the younger flustered again, especially not because of his shyness around their little nicknames for him. Heeseung vouched to himself to make up more just to draw this reaction out more. The healthy blush was a sign of life, something he’d feared would have been gone forever only months ago.

“Come in then. What are you still hovering around the door for?”

The other boys grinned and came inside, instantly pulling up chairs around the bed and telling Jungwon about what they’d been up to since the last time they spoke. At one point, Jungwon started fidgeting in his place, and it was then that Niki appeared without sound, knowingly holding up a blood bag. The fletchling had looked at it in surprise, not seeming too sure about what to do with it, but the clan did their best to show him how to easily drink from it and do it without spilling. He was clumsy, holding the bag like he wasn’t entirely sure what to do with his hands, and he spilled a lot, though everyone assured him it was fine and they’d just switch out the blanket after he was done.

It was the first time Jungwon fed while he was lucid enough to register it, and that made it a special moment for everyone involved. A few spots of blood on the sheets was the least of their concerns.

Though it wasn’t as special as the day Jungwon finally left the bed. That was an experience.

It had happened on a day like any other. Jungwon had been napping as he still often needed, but then he’d been rudely awakened by Sunoo slamming the door open, a bright grin on the boy’s face as he was no doubt going to share some kind of entertaining news with him that he found absolutely amazing. He never got to share the rumor, however, as the moment the door flew open, Jungwon startled awake so badly he flew from the bed, clinging to the ceiling as wide, red eyes snapped to Sunoo.

Sunoo had stilled in the doorway, shocked, before bursting out laughing the loudest he’d ever done before. Jungwon had been so embarrassed about losing control, it had only gotten worse, and between one moment and the next, he had disappeared from the room in a blur of speed.

They found him easily after that, stuck in some tree because his super speed had made him unable to stop himself before he was all the way to the top and couldn't go any further. He was clinging to the branches like his life depended on it, and in between giggles the clan had assured him that he could let go. Even if he couldn’t fly yet, he would certainly land on his feet if he jumped (and if not, he’d heal really fast). When none of those reassurances managed to convince the boy, Heeseung had been the one to fly up the tree and get the boy out of it, Jungwon digging his claws in Heeseung’s back as tight as he could as he’d had his eyes squeezed shut the whole way.

Once down, they had promised to teach him how to control all of his new powers. For most of them it all came natural, but luckily Jake and Sunghoon had been human once, and so they took it upon themselves to teach Jungwon the ways of the vampires.

Everyone was present for the lessons, though. It was too good an opportunity to pass up. Not only did they get weekly entertainment of seeing their fletchling learn the ropes and often do a terrible job at flying or hissing or racing, but they could see him come alive. Not as a human anymore, but as a vampire now. Day by day, he was becoming one of them, part of their family forever now.

Heeseung still felt guilty about it, but as if he had some sixth sense for it, Jungwon was never far to disagree with that. He was always ready to hug the stubbornness out of Heeseung, and if the older still wouldn’t listen, he soon learned far more effective, vampirish ways to convince him. One was to withhold his blood until he’d relent and say it wasn’t his fault. Another was to hide his teething rings, threatening Heeseung to give his self-deprecation up already if he wanted the itching to stop.

The worst one of all was when Jungwon learned that vampires were extra ticklish in their necks. He didn’t stop using that trick until Heeseung finally had enough, and, with tears in his eyes, gave in to the boy’s demands of selfcare. That earned him the most amazing hug he’d ever gotten, and really, that was all the incentive he’d ever needed.

He’d saved Jungwon that day, and he never regretted it once. As part of their family, Jungwon would stay safe forever under his care. He would make sure of it. Whether as a human or a vampire, he was theirs, and that was never going to change.

Chapter Text

Unlike other heroes at the agency, Yeosang knew that what they were doing could cross the line. Sure, they had to fight back against the many, many villains of the world, but every time they hurt them, knocked them out or made them bleed, didn’t they lower themselves to the same level as the villains? What was different between them when both sides fought to hurt? Weren’t they both trying to defeat the other? To win? What made violence righteous and what made it wrong?

Yeosang knew the answer: it all depended on who you asked. For villains, their violence was justified, though sometimes no more than a game, sometimes also a necessity. The same counted for heroes. Heroes often fought to save, but some only did it for the fame or for the victory. They weren’t any different from the prideful villains they fought. Not really. The only difference was the people cheering for them versus screaming for them. One side made people fear them, the other made them rejoice. It wasn’t fair, but that’s how the world worked.

Yeosang knew all of this, and he’d still made the choice to join the neverending clash of sides. As was his legacy, the heritage he’d received from being born in a generations-long hero family, he knew he had to follow in his mother’s footsteps. The sword she’d left him, the one that could channel his powers into a deadly whip of fire, was his most prized possession. He’d designed his suit to fit with the centuries old designs of the rapier, the black swirls and elegance an intricate part of his disguise. Combined with his flexibility, his hero moniker had been an easy choice: En Pointe, the ballet hero.

En Pointe was no better than a villain, though he tried everything in his might to be. Did he fight? Yes, but he did it only when the other side threw the first punch. He fought in self-defense and to save, not to win. If the villain got away, then that would be it. He wouldn’t chase but stay behind, turning to the civilians that were hurt or the items that had almost been stolen. He didn’t care for pain or revenge. All he wanted was a juster world. His fire would burn away the filth and cleanse this world, one rescue at a time.

For someone as pessimistic as him, that was a very idealistic goal and he was well aware of it. Something else he’d inherited; his stubbornness to believe he was on the right side. He justified his own violence as a means to an end, a necessary way to protect as many people as he could. He never raised his sword to someone who was already down, and he never wanted to kill. No matter how many people told him it made him weak, he refused.

Killing was never the answer, even when violence was.

He repeated that mantra to himself as he cartwheeled out of the way from the gunshots, clenching his teeth and tightening the grip on his sword as he put it on the ground for a second while he whirled through the air. Once he was upright again, he pointed the tip of his rapier towards the cocky villain’s face, his maneuver having put him right in front of the man.

“It’s over for you now, Captain. Surrender and I’ll spare your life.”

The man clad in his large fur coat chuckled darkly, the sun glinting off his sunglasses as his eyes pierced through Yeosang’s very soul.

“Is that so?” he drawled, and stepped closer until the sword was hovering right under his chin, a quiet invitation. “Do it then, hero. Kill me.”

Yeosang met his daring stare head-on, not budging or moving. He would never kill the villain and the man must know that too. They were at a stand still. One side was too prideful to back off, the other was just as stubborn to keep up the act. The Captain had been hurting innocents for as long as Yeosang had been a hero, and now, finally, he had him where he wanted him. At his mercy. Defeated.

“It’s no use playing anymore,” Yeosang said blankly. “We both know how this is going to end. You’ll finally go to prison for all the crimes you’ve committed and the many lives you’ve destroyed. Did you honestly think no hero would ever catch you? That you and your team were invincible?”

“I mean, it’s a nice thought to have,” the villain grinned, his piercing white teeth glinting in the glow of Yeosang’s fires behind them. “But of course I didn’t think so. Besides…” He tipped his head down ever so slightly, the sunglasses revealing his real eyes underneath. “... it’s not my team.”

That caught Yeosang off guard, and it was enough of a momentary relapse that the Captain used it to his favor. He stepped back, raising his gun, and fired right beside Yeosang’s head. It was only due to his years of honing his reflexes that he dodged it, swirling away and unleashing the ribbon-like whip of fire from his sword to melt the bullet mid-air before it could hit anything else. He turned back to the villain, who’d long since rushed away. All he could hear was the sound of the motor racing away from the scene, leaving behind the many destroyed buildings behind them as mere collateral in a game that Yeosang was sick of playing.

He cursed, slamming his whip at the ground before distinguishing his fire. Behind him, the wreckage was slowly going up in flames. The Captain had made him fight with all he had, and the building had been in the way. Of course, Yeosang had made sure no one was inside before he’d released his powers, but it still felt like a failure now, watching the structure collapse with loud creaking and dust flying up while the villain still got away. He hated that his fights always ended like this.

But no matter, he had more to focus on than the bitter taste of a draw. He had some answers to get from his team.

“You told me The Captain was the head of the operation,” Yeosang hissed, slamming a hand on Yunho’s desk. His sunbae looked up in surprise.

“He is,” is all he said, innocently blinking his eyes as they swirled for a second before he reigned them back in. His face might not give it away, but that tiny swirl did it for him. Yunho was caught just as off-guard as Yeosang had with that knowledge, as he’d been the one to brief Yeosang on the mission and tell him that as long as he took down The Captain, the whole gang of villains would fall apart.

“He isn’t,” Yeosang growled slowly, for once using his low voice in a way he rarely did. “He told me himself.”

“And you believed him?”

“He was being sincere, sunbae. You know I can tell those things, and he wasn’t lying. He said it wasn’t his team, and there was no emotion in his voice. No anger, no anxiety, not even hate. He doesn’t have any feelings towards the gang, and he certainly didn’t act like a proud leader would have done when boasting about his members. He just wanted to flee and nobody came to his defense when I fought him either. They were happy to leave him behind. They didn’t act like a team would around their leader at all.”

That made Yunho frown. He leaned forward, clasping his hands on top of the paper work spread out across his desk.

“So the one calling himself The Captain isn’t the leader, but a mere henchman? How does that make sense?”

Yeosang sighed. “I have no idea. But for what it’s worth, he didn’t look like a mere henchman. He was wearing an extremely expensive coat, and his guns were top notch. Whoever the leader is, they clearly favor The Captain and sponsored him. He might even be their right hand man or something, just not the head.”

“Then it would still be good to bring him in,” Yunho nodded along. “Which means your mission stands as it is. Capture The Captain and bring him here so we can get information out of him about their next plans. If he’s really close to the real leader, he must know almost as much. You got close today, I’m sure you can get him next time.”

“I don’t know about that,” Yeosang grumbled, crossing his arms. He was put off by the easy way The Captain managed to flee. He’d barely distracted him for a second with that bullet, and yet he’d managed to be all across the field and riding away on his motor cycle before Yeosang turned back around. His speed was no joke, and neither was his aim. For him to miss a shot like that, it clearly had been just a distraction. Yeosang should have seen through it. If he hadn’t faltered, he would have had The Captain here already, put in chains and bound to a chair to ask him about all the gritty details that went on behind the criminal masterminds that kept the city in iron holds.

As was to be expected from Yunho, the older hummed as if he could hear exactly what Yeosang was thinking, looking straight at him like he was seeing into his thoughts. Judging by the swirls in his eyes, he actually was. Yeosang hated it when he did that.

“It’s not like I look any further than surface thoughts,” Yunho defended, shrugging, responding directly to his thoughts like it wasn’t one of the creepiest superpowers to have. Yeosang frowned, unhappy with being read like that.

“Just stay out of my thoughts.” He turned away, blocking Yunho’s connection with his eyes. “I’m gonna train. If you need me, I’ll be in the basement.”

“If you wanna practice against someone with even more speed than The Captain’s, you could contact Gold Glow,” Yunho suggested, not sounding like he minded Yeosang dismissing himself like that. “I’m sure he’d love an excuse to come by again and if you can fight against the likes of him, The Captain will be child’s play.”

Yeosang nodded, even if he wasn’t planning on calling any of their contacts for this. This was a fight he needed to do himself. He was the one who let a criminal as important as The Captain slip away, so he would be the one to get strong enough to defeat him all on his own. It was his duty as a hero, his duty to the agency, his duty alone.

This was his fight to win.

Somewhere along the line, his conviction to fight to save had become twisted. He realized that now, bloodied and panting, as The Captain held a gun to his forehead with a manic glint behind his sunglasses. Yeosang glared at the villain, trying to think of a way to get out without ending up shot in the head.

“Well, well, well, where’s all that big talk now, En Pointe? I thought you were finally going to bring me to prison this time.”

The Captain looked far too smug for someone casually holding a gun to someone’s head and in that moment, all Yeosang could think about was landing hits to kill. Not knock out, not defeat, but kill. He absolutely loathed the man. He wanted to wipe that cocky smirk off his face and finally rid the world of such an evil person once and for all.

The Captain tutted. “Is that hatred I see in your eyes there, little ballerina? Don’t let the cameras see that or else the world will think you’re becoming a villain too.”

“You should know all about that, becoming a villain-” Yeosang spat, holding his sword’s hilt in a death grip. “-as you were once a hero too, weren’t you?”

Finally, a bit of the mask cracked and The Captain’s smile fell. An icecold apathy switched into place.

“Where did you hear that?” the villain hissed lowly, as if scared anyone else would hear him. There was no one around. Yeosang had long since evacuated all the civilians from the area, knowing that his fire was far too destructive to fully control. When it got too much for him to handle, he didn’t want any people getting hurt just because he got too much into the fight.

“Oh,” Yeosang said, tilting his tone like he was surprised, “is that fear I see in your eyes, villain? Are you scared someone finally found out about who you really are?”

“You know nothing,” the man sneered, pressing the gun harder against Yeosang’s forehead. The other hand raised his second gun to rest over Yeosang’s heart. A bit of an overkill, if you asked him, especially since it didn’t stop him from talking.

“Oh, but I do. I know about your time as the Pirate and I know all about the agency you left only to become the leader of a faction of organized crime in the south of the city. Or at least, I thought you were the leader, until you so kindly told me you aren’t even close to one. Does anyone even listen to you anymore or are you just a pawn?”

That last comment seemed to sting, as a short flash of hurt crossed The Captain’s face. Yeosang saw his chance immediately and he took it, using two swift movements to knock both guns away from his body with the backs of his hands as he bended backwards at the same time, his spine arching, his head almost reaching the ground before he planted his hands there and threw an upwards kick the villain’s way, successfully hitting him right in the jaw and launching himself into a hand stand. He dropped his legs back to the ground to finish the move, watching in satisfaction as not only the guns flew out of the villain’s hands, but the man also grunted in pain, stumbling backwards with a growl.

“Fucking- Oh, now you’re gonna get it!”

Yeosang dropped into a fighting stance, his rapier at the ready to parry the jabs The Captain sent his way, his fists being no match for a sword. Especially when Yeosang activated his powers and let fire flow from the hilt all the way down into the tip of the sword, The Captain didn’t stand a chance anymore. It became a fight of endurance instead of skill, as both were evenly matched between their bullets and fire. Yeosang had to dodge a lot of shots, while The Captain had to try and evade as much of the sword’s heat as possible so as to not burst into flames because of his furry coat.

“So who’s your real leader?” Yeosang questioned as he pirouetted away from a string of bullets. “And why would you let someone else take all of your thunder? You don’t seem like the kind of man who’d let others tell you what to do.”

The Captain twisted around, guns trailing after Yeosang’s fleeing form with clear frustration. “I’m not telling you anything. Now die!”

“Now that’s just rude-” Yeosang shot his leg out into a grand battement, kicking a pile of rubble in the process and stirring up a cloud of dust to hide himself from The Captain’s eyes. He held his leg up high and twisted it to the back, swinging his arms out until he was leaning forward and grabbing a couple of stones from the ground. He threw them up as his leg came down, giving the villain a taste of his own medicine as the projectiles hit him from seemingly all sides. He jumped out from the dust, grinning when he saw The Captain stumbling back with tiny scratches all over his face and hands.

As soon as he saw Yeosang again, the guns were out and shooting, and he was right back to dodging the bullets with as much grace as he could. Really, did the villain ever run out of ammunition? He tried to take a glance inside the coat, trying to see if the guy just had a limitless amount of bullets hidden under the fur, but he didn’t manage to see anything before he was dancing away again, one of the bullets grazing his cheek and exploding little red droplets all across his black suit.

“You’re ruining my outfit!” he called, hoping to get the villain talking again. If he could, he’d be able to catch his breath, and for that he’d even push past his introvertness to be the big one in this fight and talk first. He really needed some air right now. “Don’t you remember how expensive hero outfits are? You’re killing the art here! If I have to apply for a new suit, it’ll take ages to be finished and be sent to me, which means it’ll be a while before I’ll be able to get out into the field again. Do you want that? Do you want to take me off the battlefield before I can defeat you? That’s the coward’s way out, you know!”

“Do you ever shut up?” The Captain blurted out, but to Yeosang’s disappointment, the fact that he started talking didn’t mean that he stopped shooting. He only dropped the empty ammunition shells and clicked new ones in their place before resuming his rain of gunfire. Yeosang huffed and dodged them left and right, properly out of breath now. His muscles had started aching, and the surface level wounds on his skin stung. He was getting fed up with this entire fight.

He needed to end it.

“So, where’s your boss now? Are they powered? Why haven’t I heard of them? Are they cooler than you? Or at least stronger? Can you at least tell me their name?”

“Shut up already!”

Yeosang realized the error of his plan a second too late, as talking so much had only stolen more air from him and made his reaction time sloppier. It’s how one of The Captain’s bullets hit a little too close for comfort, piercing through his right leg’s calf and making him slip in his landing, forcing him to stumble and make him too late to dodge another bullet that lodged itself into his shoulder. He refused to cry out, so he bit his lip in between his teeth to stifle the scream that would have otherwise torn out of him.

He couldn’t let The Captain know he was wounded. He still had the upper hand. He had to believe he had. Guns were nothing against a fire sword.

Without another word, he lunged forward, ignoring the pain flaring from his wounds in favor of slashing his rapier at the villain’s chest. Part of the whip caught in the coat and effectively singed the fake fur away there. The Captain cried out in shock as his cape caught on fire immediately after.

“Dammit!” He threw off his coat to reveal a dark, sleek getup underneath and a belt with rows upon rows of ammunition ready for the taking. So that’s where he got all those bullets from. Yeosang had been right.

“I’ve got you now,” he huffed, aiming for the bullets with his whip with the intent to melt them. If he could take The Captain’s weapons away from him, he was just a non-powered and Yeosang would win by default.

But for that move to work, he had to risk getting in close. It was a risk he had no choice but to take.

Jumping forward on his tip toes, his legs straining, he thrust his sword forward, aiming right for the bullets. The Captain rushed backwards in an attempt to avoid the fire, his aim off in a desperate last effort to hit something. Yeosang should have seen it coming, but he didn’t. He was too focussed on hitting the belt and winning.

He didn’t see the barrel pointing, the muzzle sizzling with smoke from the last shot. He didn’t see The Captain’s eyes narrow behind his glasses, his finger twitching.

He only heard the gun fire, and then, pain. An unfamiliar, inhuman cry ripped out of him before his world whitened out completely.

He was out before he ever hit the ground.

The moment the fire dissipated from the sword without warning, Hongjoon knew something was wrong. En Pointe never let his fire dim during a fight, especially not when caught in such close range by his opponent. His boss had made him research the hero excessively before he went out to confront him after he barely got away last time, and so he knew the other’s fighting style to a T. He knew the rapier was just as, if not more deadly than his guns, and that if En Pointe hadn’t decided to become a hero, he would have no doubt been higher in the ranks of the villains than even Hongjoong was himself.

So when his fire vaporized and left an empty sword, he knew that wasn’t normal. His breath caught in his throat when he realized why.

En Pointe’s eyes rolled to the back of his head the same moment a guttural cry left him.

Before Hongjoon knew what he was doing, his guns clattered to the ground just in time for him to catch the hero by the shoulders before he could faceplant to the ground. A dark spot of red was rapidly growing along the black of the hero’s suit and it even seeped out of the fabric to stain his hands.

Hongjoong gasped when he realized what had happened. He hadn’t been aiming at the hero’s chest, but he must have pulled the trigger too early. He… he really hadn’t meant to deal such a fatal blow. He would never!

“En Pointe, hey-” he swallowed, dropping to his knees while the hero went down with him. The man was lifeless in his arms, his face slack and not giving a single sign that he heard him. Hongjoong had no idea what to do, his hands flitting above the hero’s wound as his eyes scanned his body. There were more spots of blood he hadn’t noticed before. One on his leg, one on his shoulder. The dark fabric had hit it from him, but… he’d hit the hero a lot more times than he’d thought. How had he kept moving that fluidly with multiple bullet wounds? Was he really that inhuman? Even powered people weren’t invincible. Even if Hongjoong hadn’t shot that last shot, the hero would have been losing enough blood to slowly die anyway. Why didn’t he dodge? He’d dodged so much of Hongjoong’s assault, he thought it was a given the hero would just keep dodging like the light-footed, nimble dancer he was.

Hongjoong had never aimed to kill in his life. He always made sure to hit weak spots, yes, but he never killed. His boss wasn’t exactly happy with that, but he couldn’t help it. En Pointe had been right about one thing: he’d been a hero once. It was past he wasn’t proud of, but also something he could never escape. And one thing heroes never did, was kill.

But that could always change.

“Oh shit, shit, shit- En Pointe? Hey, wake up already. Shit, why didn’t you dodge it again, you dumbass? It was such a clear shot, you should have just moved out of the way…”

But the hero wasn’t responding. Hongjoong was growing desperate here. He couldn’t leave the hero to bleed out like this.

He… he didn’t want the life of an innocent on his hands.

The choice was made before he could even really think about it. With a huff of effort, he steeled himself and lifted the hero from the ground, the man far too light in his arms. With a glance around, he confirmed that nobody had seen what he’d done, and then he turned around. His boss couldn’t ever know of this. If there had been witnesses, he would have had no choice but to silence them forever.

He left the battlefield.

Hongjoong’s apartment was nothing special. Just a glorified shoe box with mold on the walls and a tacky mattress acting as a bed. The only thing he had of worth was his giant medic kit, the only thing he’d truly spent his money on that he got from the missions his boss sent him on these days. It didn’t feel right to spend money he illegally gained, but staying alive was more important to him than his pride, and so he’d bought the kit.

En Pointe’s suit had been cut away to reveal the wounds underneath, and Hongjoong had spent far too long to properly bandage it, having never done it to someone else before. Now, the man’s chest and leg were covered in white as he slept peacefully, a little bit of color having returned to his face. The black mask was still intact on his face, as Hongjoong knew how much a secret identity meant to people like them. Even if the hero had somehow discovered a bit of Hongjoong’s past, he still would never take his revenge by unmasking the other. Maybe it was the ex-hero in him talking again, but their identity was sacred to them. What happened in the mask stayed in the hero world, what happened with the mask off was none of his concern.

“Can’t you just wake up already?” he asked, unsure of what to do. The hero looked so serene like this, on Hongjoong’s mattress, tiny puffs of air leaving his open mouth. He’d taken out the bun on the back of his head and now his black hair fanned around his head delicately. Something weird stirred in his chest at the sight, though he didn’t wanna put a name to it.

Hongjoong refused to get attached to a hero. Not after all they’d done to him. Not after they’d abandoned him when it most counted.

“Wake up… please?” he said, tone turning softer. He brushed away a stray strand of hair, sighing. “I think I liked you more when you kept talking. Your voice… is kinda intriguing, you know that? Your whole act is about elegance and deadly skill, but your voice is… rough. Low. Human.”

He didn’t know what he was saying anymore, but he just felt the need to fill the silence.

“I know you already found out about my past as the Pirate, so… did you know I came from your agency before? I bet if Yunho saw me, he’d have an aneurysm right then and there. He’s still the boss around there, isn’t he? He doesn’t know I’ve become The Captain. He… must be very disappointed if he ever finds out about me.”

Hongjoong didn’t know what compelled him, but before he knew it, his hand had found the hero’s. It was smaller than he’d expected. Without the sword in his hand and the fire curling around his fingers, his hand felt soft and gentle, very unlike the pain he could cause with it.

“You know, I never wanted to switch sides,” he went on. “It’s just… circumstances pushed me to a place I couldn’t return from and my boss was the only one willing to take me in and offer this place. It’s not much, but it’s enough for me. As long as I can get my revenge, it’ll be enough. And after… maybe I can just turn myself in. I’ve ruined enough lives already. After that final mission, I promise I’ll serve the years I’m due. Just… only after I get my revenge.”

“You… promise?”

Hongjoong stiffened, sucking in a breath as his eyes found En Pointe’s. They were open and burning with something unrecognizable. He pulled his hand out of En Pointe’s like he’d been burned.

En Pointe smiled weakly, seeming to aim for cocky but landing on sheepish.

“I’ve never seen you without your stupid glasses,” he said with that low, gravelly voice of his. Hongjoong was momentarily stunned before he found his words again.

“Well, I’ve never seen you without a shirt, so I guess we’re even.”

“That’s no fair trade at all,” En Pointe responded and tried to move, only to hiss and wince, stopping in his tracks as Hongjoong put a hand on the bandages to keep him down.

“Hey, careful, your wounds have barely had the time to heal. Take it easy.”

“Where… where did you take me?” En Pointe looked around the room in clear suspicion. “And who did these?” He put a hand on his chest, unintentionally touching Hongjoong’s too.

“I did. You could have died.”

“I… well, yeah. But aren’t you a villain? Why would you care?”

Hongjoong opened his mouth to answer, but was stopped by the loud alarm of his phone. He flinched and pulled it out of his pocket, En Pointe also falling silent as he swiped open the screen.

The Teddy Bear requests your presence.

You have (one) unread message:

Good job taking En Pointe out of the game. Meet me at headquarters. I’ve got someone I’d like you to meet.

“Who’s The Teddy Bear?” En Pointe asked and Hongjoong’s head snapped up. The hero was bent over in a way that must be hurting him, clearly reading along to the text on his screen. He quickly snatched it away, pressing the thing to his chest.

He had two choices here. Lying or telling the truth. His mind raced as he thought through all the consequences of both, debating which one was the best, but then he met En Pointe’s eyes.

There was that burning again. Hongjoong recognized it now. It was understanding. Compassion.

That was the proof that pushed him to decide something he would have never done otherwise. The plan formed in his mind like a map finally becoming visible, the path ahead as clear as day. The big boss thought En Pointe was dead. They had an advantage because of that, and if the person his boss wanted him to meet was who he thought it was, then…

“The Teddy Bear is my boss, and also my biggest enemy. Help me take him out and I’ll tell you everything you wanna know. You have my word.”

En Pointe’s eyes widened, the burning turning dangerous now.

“Take out your boss?”

“Yes.”

“I’m in.”

There was no turning back now.

Chapter Text

With every step, his boots squelched on the wet concrete. The remnants of some surviving streetlights gave the empty industry complex a bleak, ethereal glow. Avoiding the rubble strewn across the place was easy, but stone still crunched with some of his steps, his long coat swishing in the wind.

This place had been abandoned for years now, which made it the perfect place to lay low and hide. Their group was nothing more than a rag tag collection of survivors, but for him, after all these years they felt like home. He clenched the torn umbrella tighter in his hold, jumping over a puddle that shone a greenish hue in the moon light.

The only downside to this place was the chemical waste everywhere. It made it difficult to collect rainwater off the ground, which is why they’d made their own water station on the rooftop of the building they’d claimed. Far away from the chemical mists that scoured the grounds, far away from any stray animals that would claim the water as their own. Pots and pans, buckets and even a stuffed sink stood on the roof, giving them the most essential thing to keep living. The entrance to the water reserve was booby trapped with strings and bells, everything to keep it safe. All of them knew how to avoid them, which meant that as soon as a sound was made up there, they knew they had to go check.

He turned the corner at the broken sign with the name of the failed factory, the sign flickering sometimes with the remnants of electricity it had gathered during the last thunder storm. Soon, the flickering would stop again, until the next storm would give it some life once more. Sometimes, living in this world felt just like that. Always waiting for life to start, for things to happen, for something to change. It didn’t matter that months had passed and they’d yet to find any other survivors, or that they’d gone out almost every day armed with this horrible excuse for protection and had yet to find something edible among the remnants of the buildings. It was an industry complex, there should have been a couple of stocked cafeterias, shouldn’t there?

Returning with empty hands was never something to be happy about. Not when there were seven other hungry mouths to feed and time seemed to be running out.

Chan sighed in relief when he finally reached the right place, pushing away the meek imitation of a door they had—a curtain with plastic strips blocking the wind—and announcing his arrival.

“Boys, I’m back.”

The empty space they’d claimed was perfect to build their base in for one sole reason: it had been a mattress factory before. Soft, large mattresses had been lined along the walls and floor in one of the corners of the room in an effort to create a safe space, though it looked like a giant pillow fort. Still, in a world like this, a pillow fort was about the only kind of light they had in their lives, and so nobody complained as they piled into a puppy pile every single night. Sleeping close kept them warm, and the mattresses gave them the little reprieve they desperately needed after surviving day in, day out. The mattresses on the walls kept out more of the cold, protecting them from the stones seeped with frost and the breeze coming from the broken windows.

The rest of the space was open and, quite frankly, a mess. A stolen shopping cart was their pièce de résistance while other random furniture they’d found from the factory and places nearby filled the rest of the space and made it feel lived in. To finish it off, stones formed a make-shift fireplace in the middle of the room, the fire crackling and casting the entire room in stark shadows and an orange glow. Most of the group was gathered on the ratty couches around the spot, also constructed from mattresses and pieces of wood acting as armrests and keeping up the backrests. Only Minho was further across the room, taking down their drying laundry and folding it up to put in the drawer they’d scavenged about a year ago.

“Hyung, hey,” Seungmin greeted him softly, a sleeping Felix on his shoulder. “Did you find anything useful?”

Chan shook his head and the younger sighed. Hyunjin looked up from the pair of pants he was mending and gave him a sympathetic smile.

“The food’s still warm at least. You should have some before we crash into a bed.”

Chan gratefully took the cup offered by Changbin, a little bit of steam still wafting up from the compote. Coming home like this was exactly why he could keep going out every day. Knowing that he had somewhere safe and warm to get back to, that there were people waiting for him with food and reassurances and love, made the dreary world outside just a little less bleak. It was all he needed to survive. All he needed to keep going.

“Thanks.” He sat down on the couch too, watching the group do their own things in calm silence. The canned food warmed him right back up and made him drowsy. With every bite he took, he sympathized more and more with Felix who had made his home against Seungmin’s side, as well as Jisung who kept nodding off while he tried to write something in the small notebook of his. Jeongin didn’t seem to be faring much better, lying on the couch and staring at the ceiling looking like he wasn’t really awake anymore even if his eyes were open.

That’s why when he was done eating, he took it upon himself to get the group to bed. Felix was a dead weight when he lifted him up, and Seungmin shot him a grateful smile as he helped Jisung off the couch, the others quietly following. They tugged Minho with them along the way, and soon, all eight of them were climbing on top of the mattresses, sighing in relief after the long day they’d had. As it was late already, the cold was snaking around them, but they cuddled close to block it off. Laying here made Chan feel even warmer after his meal, and so he couldn’t help it as he practically melted against Hyunjin’s side, his toes being warmed by Changbin’s legs, his hands tucked under the only thin blanket they still had.

“Good night, everyone,” he muttered into the quiet night. “Good job on surviving another day.”

“Good night, hyungs,” Jeongin was the first to answer, the rest quickly followed, all repeating the phrase that had become a mantra to them.

Good job on surviving another day, because it really was a miracle every single day. Good job on not dying. Good job on staying together and giving Chan the home that he would always protect. Good job on being so unapologetically them. Good job staying alive in a world that tried to take them away at every turn.

Chan drifted off easily, the sound of the others’ breathing a soothing melody to fall asleep too.

What woke him was far less good.

He came to with a jolt, his eyes flying open because he thought he heard a sound. One side of him was startlingly cold and empty and he turned under the blanket, frowning at the empty spot that should have been occupied by another member of their little family. If he remembered correctly, it had been Hyunjin lying on that side. His eyes scanned the darkness. The dying embers of the fireplace gave little bursts of light every now and then, but it wasn’t enough to illuminate more than the bare outlines of their home.

A scuffle sounded from across the room and Chan could barely see something moving towards their door, a dark figure disappearing behind the curtain. He got up, carefully padding off the mattress so as not to wake anyone else. Did Hyunjin have to go do his business? But why would he do that outside? They had a little bathroom upstairs, one that actually had fresh water because they kept filling the water basin with boiled rain water almost every day.

Chan tiptoed across the room, shivering at the cold stone beneath his feet.

“Hyunjin?”

Only at the last minute did he think to grab his coat, peeking through the curtain and into the night. Figures were there, multiple, one carrying a torch. The fire swished through the air as the person in their hold struggled, soft cries coming from behind the hand around their mouth. Others dressed in tacky hoodies and scruffed pants held the person’s arms, dragging them away from the building no matter how hard they struggled. They looked around in a desperate movement, the light catching their eyes for just a second.

Chan made eye contact with Hyunjin and froze, panic gripping him like a vice.

Other people. Not only were there other people, but they were taking Hyunjin away!

“Let him go!” He didn’t scream, too scared to wake the others up and make this whole situation worse, but he did run out of the door, wrenching one of the hands from Hyunjin’s arm and trying to pull him free.

An ugly laugh sounded from the hooded person and all of a sudden, a slap landed right on Chan’s face, snapping his head to the sight. He gasped, the world spinning for a second. Before he knew it, his hands were pulled behind his back and a boot kicked into his knees, forcing him to the ground. Whoever this group was, they were rough and ruthless and both Hyunjin and Chan were now being dragged away from their home.

“Stop it, let us go!” Chan cried, no longer caring whether the others woke up or not. They were forced further and further away from their home, from them, from everything that was safe.

But the unknown people with their hoods and their torch seemed to be either deaf or uncaring. Chan’s knees scraped over the harsh ground more often than not, and he struggled to follow their quick pace. He tried to look Hyunjin’s way, but a hand in his hair forced his eyes back to the front, another cry escaping him as they tugged far too hard.

Finally, they were disregarded in an open space that must have been a parking lot once upon a time, broken stone and glass littering the ground. Chan and Hyunjin fell to all fours, gasping, the tiny shards and stones digging into their skin and clothes. As if for good measure, Chan received a kick to his side that made him double over, spit flying out of his mouth as the air was knocked out of him. Hyunjin cried from beside him, getting the same treatment and collapsing beside him.

Finally, the kidnappers spoke.

“This is gonna be a fun hunt. It’s been a long time since we found some mutants around here.”

One of them laughed, a croaky, nasal sound. “‘s definitely gonna be fun. Look how much this one’s trembling already.”

Chan placed a shaking hand on the ground, trying to push himself up, but another kick to his side had him gasping and crashing back down, pain shooting through his body like fire.

“We-we are-are not- not mutants,” Hyunjin protested, barely getting the words out. One of the people tsk’ed and crouched down, pulling at Hyunjin’s hair to lift his head and make him look at them. Hyunjin bit his lip, visibly holding in a scream.

“Is that so? Try telling that to the fences all around this place.” The others laughed. Thanks to the weak light of the torch, Chan could make out some of the man’s features. Sharp nose, sunken eyes, and… veins, clearly showing on his skin. They were red, almost pulsing with the color. His eyes shone in the reflection of the fire, but when the torch moved away, the glow didn’t leave. That person wasn’t normal, he was the one mutated already.

Chan’s heart beat against his chest painfully as he looked around the group that had taken them, dread growing with every single person he saw. Four of them in total, all with their hoods drawn up, but all with that glow. One had pink eyes, one blue, one yellow. The color bleeded from their irises into the white of their eyeballs. Their veins pulsed the same colors, and from one of their sleeves, Chan could see the boney wrist sticking out. The skin around the wrist was blotchy, as if a large burn had only just started to heal. Though Chan doubted it ever would, since it was peeling off and pitch black.

“Ya think this one’s gon’ taste good?” The blue eyed guy said, leaning in far too close to Chan with a wicked grin on his face. The yellow eyed woman suddenly dropped a duffel bag at his feet, the sound of metal rattling inside filling him with cold dread.

“We only know once we catch them,” she said, advancing like a hungry wolf. She bent down and zipped the bag open, revealing chains. She let them glide through her hands, licking her lips. “I wanna use the collar this time. Y’know, for the pretty one…Bet he’ll scream real good once I tackle him.”

Her eyes found Hyunjin and Chan went rigid. Hyunjin was still trapped in the red-eyed’s hold on his hair, but his eyes flitted over in fear at the woman’s words. He struggled even harder, tears budding in his eyes.

“No, no, use it on me!” Chan said before he could even think about it. He had no idea what they were even planning with them, but he needed all the attention away from Hyunjin. The woman immediately zeroed in on him.

“Oh? A volunteer… how heroic.”

She finally pulled one of the chains fully from the bag, revealing an intricate network of metal that all came together to two wrist cuffs and one collar. Two of the people held Chan in place while she trapped him in the chains, sliding the collar around his throat and making him shiver from the ice cold touch. The collar snapped in place, and from it, chains led to the cuffs she snapped around his wrists, making it difficult to even turn his head. Hyunjin got the same treatment, except he was allowed to keep his neck free, the chains only restraining his arms in front of him.

“There, all set, now can we get started already?” The pink-eyed guy growled, pacing at Chan and Hyunjin’s feet. The other mutants got to their feet, releasing their holds on the boys and coming to stand next to the pink-eyed.

“I hope you’re ready to run,” The yellow-eyed drawled, eyeing Chan hungrily. She pulled her hood off, revealing the same patches of blackened skin around her head as one of the others had had around their arms. They’d been tainted, clearly so, by the chemical waste all around the area. Chan and the others had wondered what happened if you touched it, but none had dared to try it out. They’d managed to live for months without ever coming into contact with it, and now, he was more than thankful for it. These people had become monsters… and they didn’t even seem to realize they’d changed. Mutated, but with most of their intelligence still intact, they must believe that what they were doing was completely normal. Even worse, they thought Chan and Hyunjin were the inhuman ones.

And now they were going to be hunted.

“As per the rules, we’re gonna give you two minutes to run,” the blue-eyed said darkly, chuckling. “Others made it about half across the area before we caught up to them, so try to beat their record, mutants. You can still understand me, can’t you?”

“I don’t know, look at their empty eyes! They’re clearly dying. They must not understand a word you say,” another taunted.

“Well, that’s why we’re going to kill 'em soon,” the blue-eyed shrugged and leaned forward. “But before we give ya that mercy…you better run.”

The group burst out laughing, but Chan didn’t listen to it anymore. He locked eyes with Hyunjin and the realization of what they had to do passed between them like a death sentence.

Run or be killed.

They didn’t need to be told twice.

Huffing and in pain, Chan managed to struggle to his feet, stumbling because of the heavy chains throwing him off balance. He clumsily helped Hyunjin up, both of their bound hands making it impossible to hold on if they were going to be running.

“What are you still doing here?” the red-eyed sneered, materializing a pipe from somewhere and playing with it between his hands. “I believe twenty seconds have already passed. Do you wanna die so badly?”

Chan gulped and as one, he and Hyunjin started sprinting, leaving the lunatics behind. They went a zigzag path between buildings, fear spreading through the air as deadly as the day this all started. The explosion. The factory incident. The day they lost everything.

“We need to hide somewhere!” Hyunjin panted, pointing to a building up ahead. Chan nodded and they made their way to it. He had no idea if the two minutes were up already, so they didn’t waste any time to crash inside, the giant metal doors luckily unlocked. There was an upstairs level that covered half of the loading deck and without a word, they both made a dash for the stairs. The chains clunked with every step and echoed eerily in the empty hall, only to be interrupted by their heavy breathing.

Yelling and crowing came from outside as Chan and Hyunjin stumped up the stairs, running as far across the loft as they could get. Chan threw himself behind a couple of stacked boxes, trying to slow down his breathing so he wouldn’t make any sound. Hyunjin fell down beside him, whimpering, his whole body shuddering with each pained breath he exhaled.

They waited in agonizing silence, their eyes on the dark structures of the empty factory.

Laughter started coming closer, the sound of boots thumping on gravel preceding the sound of the door being thrown open violently.

“I think they’re in here! Come out, come out, wherever you are, mutants! We can hear your pretty little chains!”

“I can smell them-” Footsteps running across the room. “-they’re upstairs!”

Chan’s eyes widened and he sucked in a breath. Hyunjin tensed beside him. There was no time to think, only to react, and Chan wasted no time in hauling Hyunjin to his feet, pushing him forward as they ran off the other side where the emergency stairs were. The metal of the stairs would give them away immediately even if they’d manage to keep their chains from doing it first, but it didn’t matter. They needed to get away. They needed to survive.

The first step on the stairs clanged like a gun shot through the building and Chan practically flew down, Hyunjin hot on his heels.

“There they are! Get them!”

His lungs were burning as he ran, crossing the room diagonally in a desperate attempt to get to the only doors before these sick people would find them. His and Hyunjin’s chains clashed and banged against far too many shelves and boxes as they tried to run past them, announcing their location to all nearby. Laughter followed them closer and closer, but Chan was too scared to look around.

They just needed to get to the doors-

A yelp came from behind him and he twisted mid-step, eyes widening when he saw Hyunjin going down. There was a knife in his calf, making his attempts to stand up again useless. Already, blood was seeping from the wound, staining his pants and dripping down his shoes and onto the floor. Chan’s head snapped up when he saw four figures advancing, jumping off the metal stairs and coming their way at inhuman speed, cackling and cheering all the way.

“I got the pretty one!” The woman exclaimed, skipping towards them. “That one’s mine!”

All equipped with metal pipes or wooden planks, the group seemed ready to pummel the boys to the ground. Chan didn’t think, diving towards Hyunjin and covering him, curling around his back so only he would be hit. He heard Hyunjin gasp from under him, trying to get away from him, but Chan held on, needing to do this. If one of them were to die, it would not be Hyunjin. He would rather give his life than let that happen.

“Chan, no-!”

The first metal pipe hit his back and he cried out, body spasming with pain. The thing fell to the ground with a loud clang, but Chan barely heard it as his world whitened out. Fire bloomed from his back, spreading along his ribs like it was eating him alive. Hyunjin trembled under him and sobbed, the blood on his pants warm against Chan’s own leg.

“Time to do the mutants a favor! These ones couldn’t even get far!”

“Pathetic!”

The jeers behind them went through one ear and out the other, the only thing Chan could focus on the crying boy in his arms.

“It’s gonna be alright,” he mumbled weakly, gritting his teeth against the pain.

Hyunjin shook his head but couldn’t do anything while he was still shackled like a criminal. Chan himself felt like he was slowly choking, struggling to get air in as his Adam's apple bobbed painfully against the metal collar restricting him. Wood hit his back this time, a deliberate swing, and he cried out in agony, his arms jolting and unintentionally pulling at the collar to choke him for real. A feeling of pure resignation washed over him then, one that spread together with the lava in his veins and the spots in his vision.

He was going to die here. Maybe Hyunjin would too. They would die here and the others would never be able to find them. These messed up humans would eat their fill, only leave the bones and maybe their clothes, and that would be it. Nothing else would remain, and the others- the others-

A stinging built behind Chan’s eyes, but he refused to cry. He was dying, but he needed to keep Hyunjin safe. He couldn’t break down now. The others would never find out what happened, but at least they weren’t being hunted. If they just stayed inside, kept to the hours of daylight and continued like they’d been surviving until now, they would stay alive. Him and Hyunjin would be the only casualties.

Or no, only him. He’d protect Hyunjin even if he needed to do so with his last dying breath. They’d have to pry his corpse off the boy before they could ever get to Hyunjin. He’d protect him no matter the cost.

He just hoped the others would forgive him.

“Hyung-” Hyunjin gasped and Chan was scared for a second that he’d said that out loud, but then he followed Hyunjin’s gaze and he sucked in a breath too. In between crates, a large puddle of chemical waste was spread out across the cement, the edges of it corroded and even now sizzling. That was a concentrated puddle, one even worse than the ones they’d ever seen outside.

Chan got a very dark, very dangerous idea.

“You thinking what I’m thinking?” he whispered. Hyunjin nodded against his chest. He let out a breath, steadying himself as he thought of how to go about it. This was probably the stupidest thing they’d ever done, but… “Think you can run?”

“I’ll just have to.”

Chan wished he didn’t agree with that, but they had no other choice. Conviction was the only thing keeping him from crumbling right then and there, and dangerous hope cooled down the fire in his veins with determination instead.

“On the count of three.” He kept himself perfectly still, listening as the footsteps came ever closer.

“One.”

He could hear one of the mutants play with their metal pipe again, knowing their unnatural glowing eyes must bore into his back like they were trying to light him up in flames.

“Two.”

Far too close now, one of the mutants picked up the pipe at his feet, chuckling darkly. Their boots were directly behind him. They could be getting ready to strike again.

Chan wouldn’t let them.

“Three!”

In tandem, he and Hyunjin sprang to their feet, rushing forward no matter how much his skeleton felt like it was rattling out of his skin. They dashed towards the chemical waste with a one-track mind, everything focussed on getting the timing right. Cries of outrage came from behind them, the mutants clearly not happy about their prey making a run for it again.

“Oh come on, you’ve already lost!” One of them yelled. Four sets of footsteps followed immediately, the people setting in the chase.

Right before the puddle, Chan and Hyunjin skidded to a stop, catching the hunters by surprise as they turned on their heel and quickly ducked out of the way. The people behind them couldn’t stop their speed in time and yelled in shock as they realized what they were stepping into, the waste water splashing around their boots and flying up to their exposed hands and faces.

The effect was instantaneous. Loud sizzling preceded the cries of pain and shock, before their skin started peeling off, burning away. In their distress, they flailed around, some trying to step out of the puddle and others stumbling and clumsily falling down. No matter what they did, the chemical waste was too high in its concentration. They didn’t stand a chance. If it weren’t for the water immediately burning through their clothes, it also melted their boots, sticking to their soles and making it impossible to escape. Chan rushed towards Hyunjin, shielding him once more but this time from the gruesome sight just steps away. He curled around the younger, his own eyes stuck on the scene he couldn’t look away from.

They burned, and one by one, they were ruthlessly taken away, melting into nothing as the green water took everything that had ever made them human. Their skin, their bones, their lives. Gone forever. Burned away. Wiped from existence.

Red eyes still burned in his mind, even if they were long gone.

When silence was all that was left, Chan let himself breathe again. He shook from head to toe, the adrenaline fading from his body as the reality hit him of what they’d done.

“It’s- it’s over. They’re gone.”

Slowly, he uncurled from Hyunjin and both stared at the puddle. They stayed like that for what could have been hours, since the next time Chan blinked and came back to himself, the sun was already hesitantly peeking in from the slit of the doors. It pushed him into moving again, his back screaming at him as he stood on shaky legs.

“Come on, we need to get home.”

He helped Hyunjin up, though that was extremely hard to do with the chains limiting his movements. Hyunjin wisely didn’t put any weight on his bleeding leg and he leaned heavily against Chan. It made walking difficult, but they made it work. Although they moved with the slowest pace Chan had ever walked, eventually their home appeared between the buildings and Chan felt like crying all over again.

They didn’t even need to make it all the way. As soon as they came into view, the others stopped calling their names, Jeongin being the first to spot the miserable duo.

“Hyungs!” With his cry, the others looked their way, and soon, six boys were barreling into them and overloading them with worried questions of where they’d been and what had happened. Minho touched the chains, wide eyes following them up to Chan’s neck as the color slowly drained from his face. Expression closing off, he started spewing commands left and right.

“We need to get these off. Seungmin, get the saw. Felix get one of the clean blankets for Hyunjin’s leg. Jeongin, Changbin, help me get them inside. Jisung, get some water and any alcohol we have left.”

As instructed, everyone moved away, Jeongin and Changbin each taking up a side to Chan and Hyunjin and helping them stumble inside. They were led to the mattresses and carefully helped to sit down. Both sighed and melted into the mattresses, the run and fight for their lives having drained all of their energy.

Of course, they couldn’t escape the explanation they owed the others, so Chan wasn’t surprised when it was Minho who bit the bullet. He’d started cleaning the wound on Hyunjin’s leg, the knife lying to the side, and he worked with nimble fingers to bandage the wound and make sure it wasn’t infected.

“Hyung, what the hell happened?”

Everyone gathered around as Chan and Hyunjin tried to tell them everything. The fact that they were apparently fenced in, the fact that the chemical water caused mutations in the brain and in appearance, the fact that it could kill. They told them all of it, the group listening in horror.

It was strange, and maybe it was just because Chan was still in shock, but his mind couldn’t focus on any of these facts. Instead, it was something the mutated people had implied, something that couldn’t leave his head.

“They said that there were mutants here because of the fences. I think… we’ve been in a detained zone all along. I think the outside might be safe.”

Felix was as pale as a ghost, but even so, hope shone in his eyes as he softly asked, “You really think so? You think there could be other survivors outside?”

“I think we need to check for ourselves,” Chan said, nodding. “If what I think is true… then we could get help. We could build a life, a real one, and we can finally stop just surviving. There might be a whole world still out there, waiting for us to find it.”

“After what happened tonight, I think we should try,” Minho agreed. “But not today. Not any time soon. Hyunjin needs to heal. You need to rest. We’re not going anywhere today.”

Chan allowed a small smile to spread on his face. “We’re not going anywhere until everyone is ready, I promise.”

“Good,” Changbin said, moving closer with a cloth soaked in water. He gently put it against the bruising on Chan’s throat, giving him an apologetic smile as Chan winced. “I’m glad you got back to us alive. I don’t know what we would have done without you. Either of you. If something had happened tonight…”

“But we got out,” Hyunjin said as Felix and Jisung plastered themselves against his sides. He let them, leaning his head on Felix’s shoulder as he blinked sluggishly. His voice got lower and slower, the more he snuggled against the younger. “And soon, we’re getting out of there too. We’re not going anywhere without you… hyung…”

And like that, Hyunjin fell asleep, half sitting up and half lying down. Jisung chuckled, helping him lay down comfortably with Felix by their side. Chan watched it happen with endearment, feeling his own exhaustion catch up to him as well. Minho must have seen it on his face, because he was hushing him, pushing him down until he was lying too, forced into the obligatory cuddle session without a chance to protest.

“Get some rest, hyung. We’ll be here when you wake up. You’re safe now.”

Even with the world in disarray outside, Chan had never doubted that here. He let his eyes fall closed, assured by the warmth that surrounded him and lulled him to sleep. He would do everything for these boys. Even escape this place, someday.

Chapter Text

“Is that really all you’re going to do for the showcase?” Niki sneers, rolling his eyes. He’s slouched against the wall of the training room, waiting for his turn to practice his short solo for the upcoming evaluation showcase. Sunoo stumbles in his next step, messing up the choreo as his fake smile falters.

“What?”

“That all you gonna do?” Niki repeats. “Just flash a smile and hope the teachers will think you’re cute enough to pass even if you don’t have any talent whatsoever?”

Sunoo keeps silent, but something in his form shrinks, as if he hopes to pull attention away from himself when he is the only other person in the room. Niki scoffs, not falling for such an obvious act.

“Maybe… you’d have some pointers then?” The Korean boy asks him, wide eyes looking at him through the mirror’s reflection. “If there’s anything I can improve upon…”

“Forget it. It’d be no use for me to teach you anything.”

Niki stands, uncaring that Sunoo is technically older than him, and strides out of the room without looking back. He’ll just practice on the roof again like last time Sunoo stayed far too long in the practice room. It’s the beginning of winter, so the freezing isn’t as bad yet. As long as he keeps moving, he’ll stay warm.

Still, it irks him that Sunoo keeps getting away with this. Overstaying his welcome, not just in the practice room, but in the dorms too, in the entire company. He doesn’t deserve a spot among the other trainees because he’ll never get to their level. Take someone like K or Heeseung—those are the kind of kids who will definitely debut. Sunoo on the other hand… is just kind of pathetic. He is an awful dancer, he’s constantly giggling and getting scolded for not taking anything seriously, and worst of all, he keeps ranking higher than Niki.

There’s only one way that’s possible: the teachers feel pity for him. It’s startlingly clear every time the boy excuses himself for laughing and the teacher just waves it off with a fond shake of the head, or when he trips again and even the other trainees say they don’t mind. He’s got everyone wound around his little finger, and Niki’s the only one with a pair of brains around here that sees right through it. The act, the disgustingly sweet attitude, the way his eyes crinkle up like little moons every time he so much as looks the other’s way.

He’s appalling in every way. Why nobody else can see it, Niki doesn’t know.

“Hey, Niki-yah, wait!”

Niki bristles at the informal tone and speeds up his pace to the elevators. He’s not fast enough, however, and Sunoo makes it to him right before the elevator doors open. He slips in along with Niki, much to the younger’s chagrin. The doors slide closed and Niki presses the button for the top floor. Sunoo tries to see it, but Niki blocks the panel from view.

“Hey, isn’t it your time for practice now? Where are you going?”

“None of your business.”

“Okay, but I’m done now, so you can take the room. You only have an hour so you should probably make the most of the time and go back now-”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do.”

Sunoo snaps his mouth shut and finally, finally something like frustration flashes across his face for a mili-second. His expression smooths over far too quickly for it to be natural, and Niki can’t help but want to try to pull that expression out of him again.

“What? Can’t handle that someone younger than you refuses to take orders?” he taunts.

Sunoo’s face stays eerily blank and the look makes Niki only more agitated. He hates that the older can close himself off like this, that he’s got such mastery over his expressions that you can never know what he’s really thinking. He must believe he’s better than Niki, that he’s not worth it to show real emotion to. Niki’s hand clench into fists.

But before he can say anything else, the elevator suddenly makes a screeching noise and both of the boys stumble, Niki’s hands shooting out to support himself with the bar. The elevator has stopped. He looks up, seeing the number 10 blink up at him innocently. The doors stay closed.

“What the hell,” he mumbles in Japanese. Then he suddenly realizes that there’s a hand clamped around his arm and he flinches harshly, pulling away. “The hell, get off of me!”

Sunoo stumbles away, eyes wide and a little fearful. “Sorry! I’m just not the best with small spaces like this. I won’t touch you again, I promise.”

Niki tsk’s, looking around the metal space. His own reflection seems to mock him and show him just how small the elevator really is with the two of them in it, and the silver walls shimmer emptily in the artificial lights above them. He reaches out for the control panel, pressing the panic button.

“Hello?” comes a voice from the tiny speakers.

“Hi, we’re stuck in the elevator around the tenth floor. Can you get it working again?”

“There’s a temporary system failure, but we’re trying to get it back on track as soon as possible. It won’t take long, sir.”

Niki sighs, leaning more comfortably on the support bar. “And how long is not long? I’ve got a lot of things to do, sir.”

“We’ll be fast. Just stay calm and we’ll get you out in no time. I can’t give you a clear estimate yet, but it shouldn’t take longer than an hour at most.”

“An hour?! But that’s all the time I have for-”

Sunoo’s hand returns to Niki’s arm and he stops, shooting the Korean boy a glare. The sound of the speaker cutting off echoes through the space, signaling that it’s useless now to continue arguing with the employee on the other side.

“I told you not to touch me-” he sneers, pulling his arm away once more. Sunoo offers him a small, yet shaky smile.

“I know, sorry, but I didn’t want you to start a fight with the man. He can’t help it that we’re stuck here. We shouldn’t make him mad-”

“And so what if he got mad? Maybe then he’d take this seriously and get us out faster.”

Sunoo shakes his head. “No, it’s better to stay calm and not antagonize him. It’s not his fault.”

Niki scoffs. “Stop playing innocent already, I’m not falling for your act anyway.”

Another, more unreadable look crosses the other boy’s face. Niki can’t decipher it, and it’s gone before he blinks again. The look lingers in his mind, tugging at something he can’t name.

“Now that we’re stuck here anyway, maybe we can finally talk for once about…” Sunoo trails off and it’s one of the rare moments where he actually seems hesitant. Niki’s only seen him walk around with utter confidence, so this is definitely new.

“We’re not talking about anything,” he says, lowering himself until he’s sitting with his back against the cold wall. He doesn't care what kind of conflict Sunoo wants to start, because he’s certainly not playing along with it. “We’re gonna stay silent until the elevator’s been fixed. Let me have some peace at least.”

He closes his eyes, intent on ignoring Sunoo for as long as it takes. For the first few minutes it works, and he doesn’t hear more than a little scuffling around him as the other boy seems to entertain himself.

But then he hears him sit down much too close and before he knows it, a warmth joins his side as the other boy seems to scoot closer. He opens his eyes, glaring at where Sunoo has sat right beside him.

“Go sit somewhere else.”

“Sorry, I-” Sunoo sounds absolutely pathetic as he winces, his eyes darting around the space. “-I really don’t like small spaces.”

Niki rolls his eyes. “Don’t care, now move already.”

He weakly pushes Sunoo away and is surprised when the other boy allows him to, the body trembling softly under his touch. Is he… is he serious about this?

Now that Niki looks better, Sunoo is awfully pale. His fingers are curled around his knees so tightly his knuckles are turning white, and there’s something frantic in his gaze, seeping through his unbreakable mask and showing what he’s really feeling for the first time since Niki’s known him.

The sight makes him pause. Is he… scared? Is he actually scared?

“Hey… are you okay?” he can’t help but ask, some of his frustration making way for uncharacteristic worry. Sunoo’s eyes flit to him and the boy gulps.

“I- I- no, I- the walls they- it’s too small, it’s not enough space, the air’s- it’s difficult to- to breathe-”

He wheezes, actually wheezes, and that’s when Niki lets go of any animosity he carries within him. Sure, he thinks Sunoo doesn’t deserve to be a trainee, but that doesn’t mean he wants to see him break down like this.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay-” Niki is the one scooting closer this time and to his surprise, the older boy immediately holds his arm again, pressing himself against him. He blinks, mind empty, as he looks down at the tiny hands clasped around his bicep. They are… surprisingly delicate. “You’re safe. There is air, you just need to calm your breathing.”

“I- I don’t think- I can-”

“Follow my rhythm, that’ll help.” Before he realizes what he’s doing, he’s moving one of Sunoo’s hands to his own chest, inhaling deeply and letting his chest move up and down clearly. “Come on, follow me. You can do this, right?”

Sunoo’s eyes look into his own and there’s something there that Niki can’t put his finger on. They’re bigger than he’s ever seen, the panic clear in them but also something more. They’re dark and glisten in the lights. They’re kind of pretty, now that he’s looking for longer. Without the emotionless mask or the fake smiley eyes, Sunoo is surprisingly human. He gets scared just like anyone else. He even shows it just like anyone else.

Niki helps the boy breathe for a while, moving his chest up and down deliberately and resisting the smile that’s trying to tug at his lips as the other starts to calm down. Those bright eyes never leave his and he finds himself lost in them, forgetting what he was thinking of before. He can see his reflection, can see the hope and for some reason trust that Sunoo seems to have in him. There’s no reason for him to, but he trusts Niki to help him, following along to the best of his ability because he trusts Niki knows what to do.

Something weird swoops in his chest at that, but he ignores it.

“Thank you,” Sunoo eventually whispers, the words tiny and delicate between them. Niki is at a loss of how to respond, so he just nods. Then, he looks away, suddenly embarrassed he’s been staring for that long.

They sit in silence next to each other, and Niki doesn’t push him away again even if Sunoo’s still far too close. The warmth is weirdly comforting. It does its job to calm Niki down and he finds that sitting like this is anything but annoying. Maybe it’s the way there are no pretenses for once. Sunoo doesn’t have to act like he’s perfect to impress anyone, and here, Niki finally feels as if a bit of the pressure of being a trainee vanishes. Just for a while.

“Hey, Niki-yah…” Sunoo says softly and despite himself, Niki looks to the side, meeting the older boy’s sparkling eyes. “I’ve been wanting to say this for a while, but… I’m sorry for beating you in the ranking.”

Niki tenses, some of the anger bleeding back into his chest at the thought that Sunoo is seriously using this moment to mock him again, but then the boy keeps talking.

“I know how hard you worked for it, and I… you’re right, I’m still lacking in a lot of elements. You did better than me at dance and facials, I know that too. I don’t know why they ranked me higher, so I… I asked seongsaengnim if she could reevaluate us.”

Niki’s eyes widen and all anger he might have been feeling dissipates and leaves him breathless.

“You did what?” he says, disbelieving. Sunoo gives a little shrug, something that shouldn’t be as endearing as it is.

“I think it’s only fair. They clearly didn’t pay enough attention to you last time, so I asked if she could focus more on you next showcase. I really want you to debut, Niki, maybe even… maybe even together with me.”

Niki blanks out. All he can do is watch an adorable blush creep over Sunoo’s face, one that has him itching to pinch the older boy’s cheeks. The words he’s saying barely register in his mind, and when they do, he can only gape at the Korean boy. He… he wants the teachers to debut Niki? He wants to debut with him?

Niki fumbles to answer, but comes up short. His mind is short-circuiting, conflicting feelings rising up in him as his entire trainee life seems to flash before his eyes. All the times he thought Sunoo was faking it, was mocking him, was leaving him behind—did he see those wrong? While he was stuck watching the other’s back, always feeling like he was being left behind, was Sunoo reaching back for him? Was he genuine in his smiles? Was he serious with his compliments?

He… he hadn’t been mocking Niki? He wanted to debut together?

“Is that alright?” Sunoo asks, seemingly mistaking Niki’s silence as contempt at the idea. “I’m sorry if you don’t want that, it was just an idea, I-”

“I think I’d like that,” Niki hears himself say before he even realizes it is true. He blinks, the conclusion hitting him like a ton of bricks.

He wants to debut with Sunoo. He wants to figure him out. He wants to see what is the real him, now that his mask has fallen away.

Sunoo lights up, that same damn smile growing on his face that Niki used to hate. He thought it was fake, that the way the older boy’s eyes scrunched up was just an act. Now, he watches the crescent moons twinkle like they’re the warmest eyes he’s ever seen, his heart skipping a beat at the realization that this smile is not only real, but aimed right at him, at what he’s said.

“You mean it? Oh, that’s amazing!” Sunoo coos, voice tipping higher than Niki’s heard it before. “I think you’re so cool, Niki, can you teach me later? You always dance like you’re so confident and like the world doesn’t exist, I wanna do it exactly like you! Can you help me with it? Can you, please?”

All of its own accord, heat travels across Niki’s face. He’s lost in the older’s happiness, melting at the adorable grin he sends Niki’s way.

“I… okay. Yeah, I’ll teach you. But… only if you teach me facials.”

Sunoo blinks and it sends little stabs of fondness through Niki’s heart that he’s never felt before.

Or no, he has, but all this time, he thought it was hate. Now, he thinks it’s far more than that.

“You… want to get tips… from me?” Sunoo asks carefully. Niki nods, unable to look away.

“Yeah,” he says breathlessly. “Because you are clearly the best at capturing any audience. I want to learn how to do that.”

He’s never Sunoo smile as wide as he does now and it flips something in his chest. He wants to see this smile more often. He wants to be the cause of it.

“Okay,” Sunoo says. “Okay, then it’s a deal. Let’s debut together, Niki-yah.”

Niki wants to answer, but before he can, the elevator stirs and rattling starts up before it starts moving again. Both boys look up, seeing the number change to 11 and then to 12.

Niki offers a hand and together they go to stand again, a lightness between them that’s both new and comforting. Niki finally allows himself to smile.

“I’d like that, hyung.”

Chapter Text

This week, something was different, and Yunjin hadn’t been able to realize what it was until she was standing in front of the frying oil, shaking the pan with noodles and blinking against the swirling world in front of her. Nausea built up in her every time she had to take the noodles out of the oil, and the smell of the sauces and meats was closing up her throat and making her want to vomit. She’d had a cold for the entire week already, but the nausea was new. Usually, she only got that when she was really sick and should better be in bed-

Oh. That made so much sense. She was sick. It was actually a surprise it had happened so late, considering how she’d been pushing herself past her limit for so many months now. She had no choice, not with the way everyone around her seemed to be demanding something from her these days, but she still bemoaned the fact that last year, she could have called in sick. Last year, she didn’t need three jobs to sustain herself or to pay for her college tuition or to get food on the table. Last year, she actually had time to spend with her friends.

Those same friends she felt like she was slowly losing. They didn’t know about her increased workload, and in their perspective, Yunjin must have suddenly disappeared from their lives. From one day to the next, she started skipping their lunches, their afternoon hangouts, their late nights out. She couldn’t stay in the dorm for more than a couple of hours before another one of her jobs stole her away again. Whether it was her opening shift at the convenience store, the online tutoring sessions she did in between her own classes or the closing shift at their local Chinese restaurant, she was barely in the dorms anymore.

The others would worry if they knew, which is why she didn’t tell them anything. Not how much she had to work, not how awful her managers were, nor how much she struggled to actually sleep in those few hours after her night shift.

And speaking about sleep, Yunjin swayed on her feet for a second before she blinked awake again, her head snapping up as she realized she’d zoned out. Luckily she didn’t mess up the order yet, and she quickly scooped the noodles out of the pan. The mini corn was a little on the brownish side, but it still looked edible. She checked the receipt to make sure she was right, and then plated them, turning on her heel to deliver them to the front desk.

“Two deep-fried noodles for table four-”

Her step faltered and a shudder went through her at the loss of warmth from the frying station. It was completely out of her control, one second, cold sweat broke out across her skin and her hands shook, and the next, her fingers lost their grip on one of the plates. She watched it slip away in slow-motion, the world oddly tilting along with the plate. It shattered against the ground, noodles flying all over her shoes. She looked down, paralyzed for a second as overwhelming nausea hit her at the sight of the food.

“Huh Yunjin, can’t you do anything right?!”

Between one blink and the next, all of a sudden her manager was standing in front of her, veins popping on the side of her head as she looked at Yunjin’s mess. She really must be out of it if she didn’t even hear the woman approach her. This manager stomped around like she was a giant, even if she only got to Yunjin’s shoulders. With her fists in her sides, she still painted an imposing picture, one that Yunjin cowered in front of.

“I’m keeping you here for as long as it takes for you to earn this back, and it will be kept from your pay, girl! Honestly, it’s a wonder you haven’t been fired yet with how clumsy you are. Oh, and clean this up immediately! Get a new batch of noodles ready before our guests notice!”

The manager stomped away and Yunjin felt like she could start crying at any moment. It was close to the end of her shift. She should have been able to leave in ten minutes and get her five hours of sleep before she had to start her opening shift again. Now, who knew how long she’d be kept here until she could leave. The worst thing about it all was that she couldn’t protest, because she needed this job. The pay was 24k won per hour here. She needed that money to pay for her dorm and for this month’s tuition. If she suddenly put up a fight and got herself fired, she’d risk losing everything she’d worked so hard for.

Yunjin swallowed heavily against the bile in her throat and she crouched down, starting to pick up the shards from the plate one by one. Her fingers still shook with the cold that had trapped itself under her burning skin, but she ignored it. She didn’t have time to be sick.

She repeated the mantra in her head like she’d done these past months. The only thing that kept her sane anymore: this was the only year she had to double down. The semester was almost done, and after she’d be free to save up and quit at least one of her jobs. The semester was almost done. Almost. She just had to keep going.

The next morning, Yunjin was a zombie at the grocery store. She got held back more than an hour at the restaurant, which meant she went to bed for less than four hours before her alarm jolted her awake again. An actual fever had developed through the night, and so now she stood behind the register, swaying on her feet and clad in far too many layers to try and keep warm. It didn’t work, she still shivered uncontrollably. Coughs racked through her every couple of minutes and the trashcan under the counter was already overflowing with used tissues.

She sniffed miserably, scanning the next item from the customer in front of her.

“That’ll be 50k won, please,” she said, voice croaky. She couldn’t wait for her shift to be done already. Counting the change for the customer was hard with a brain that felt far too fuzzy to properly function, and her fingers shook a little as she handed them the coins. “Have a nice day.”

She didn’t even attempt to smile, simply droned out her script as she gave a slow wave. The next customer was already waiting, and like that her morning shift passed by in a blur.

Before she knew it, her coworker was entering the shop and taking over for her, asking her why she hadn’t called in sick. She couldn’t, she never could anymore. Instead of telling them that, though, Yunjin just smiled and said it wasn’t that bad. She’d rest after classes, she promised, even if she knew it was a bold, fat lie.

There was no resting for her. Not for the rest of the year.

Classes that day passed by in the same kind of blur that her shift had, only now people were actually noticing constantly. She shared one of her morning workgroups with Kazuha, who often turned to her with a question she hadn’t even heard. She’d get that look, that raise of a concerned eyebrow that always made her feel so incredibly guilty. The lecture after wasn’t any better, as Eunchae had to poke her more times than she could count because she kept nodding off. Both kept asking if she was alright and if she wanted to go home, but she waved them off every time. She had so much to do still. She just had to be fine.

The last class of the day had always been her favorite. Not because of the subject—science philosophy wasn’t exactly thrilling—but because different departments had to follow the same course at the same time. This meant she shared the class with Sakura, and usually that meant two full hours of doodles, whispered jokes and a good time.

Today was different. The fever made Yunjin constantly thirsty, which meant she was up and going to the bathroom far too often to refill her bottle. Every time she stood up from her seat, the world spun for a second and a weird kind of static filled her head. The drowsiness from before hadn’t left either, so whenever she did sit down for too long, she began nodding off or zoning out, curling into herself as the air felt cold and too hot at the same time.

About halfway through the class, Sakura stopped her from going to the bathroom again, a silent hand on her elbow in question. Yunjin tried to shoot her a smile, but Sakura didn’t look convinced. Especially not since they’d just received their recent grades for their project, which Yunjin hadn’t had time to do. She’d failed it, of course, and now Sakura seemed to think she was upset about it (she was, it’s just that not a single thought could stick right now. She’d feel bad about it later, but for now, she just wanted to curl up under her blanket and sleep for the rest of the week.)

“Do you need help for our next assignment?” Sakura asked with the best intentions. Her hand kept Yunjin from leaving, and already her throat was dryly itching for water again. Yunjin could feel the urge to cough rise up and she tried to suppress it, her smile wobbling.

“No. Thanks for offering, though. Can you let go? I just need to go to the bathroom real quick.”

With that same unsure expression as the others had had, Sakura let her go, watching her leave like she thought Yunjin would burst out crying at any moment. It wasn't far from the truth.

To avoid any more of her inquiring stares, Yunjin fled the classroom the moment their teacher dismissed them, making a beeline for the library. This was the only day she didn’t have her English tutoring to get to, which meant this was the only day she actually had time to do her homework. She wasted no time spreading out her notebooks and her laptop, diving straight into it with a one-track mind that was far too hard to maintain. Catching up on her work always felt like a losing battle, but still she tried. The words might not make much sense today, and what she wrote down probably meant even less, but she pushed through. If she could just finish the essay before next week and get halfway through the analysis she had to turn in before next Friday, then she could focus the rest of the week on working.

An alarm on her phone pulled her out of her daze and she jolted, quickly silencing it. She looked at the time, feeling like crying all over when she realized it was time to eat a quick dinner before she had to go to the restaurant again. She looked at her document, heart falling at the sight of only a single paragraph of nonsense. Great. Another course she was going to fail.

Gathering her things and standing up, she was stopped when someone called out to her.

“Hey, Yunjinnie!”

She turned, seeing Chaewon making her way over, but the moment she stood upright, grey static overtook her.

Before she knew it, the world had changed, and she looked up at the ceiling now, blinking in confusion. A worried Chaewon leaned over her.

“Yunjinnie… hear me…? Hey, stay awake… on…”

Yunjin’s eyes fluttered closed again, the static returning. Her breathing came out in empty wheezes and her whole body was covered in cold sweat. Chaewon’s voice drifted somewhere above her, but she couldn’t make out any words.

She was helpless to stop the world from fading away.

Something cold touched her forehead and brought her back to the realm of the living. Yunjin whimpered, wanting to curl up and finding that she could. Someone shushed her, but her eyes felt too heavy to open yet so she couldn’t make out who it was.

“Oh, Yunjinnie…” the voice mumbled and that’s when she realized it was Chaewon, her fingers softly carding through her hair. “Why would you do this to yourself? Why didn’t you come to us before it got this bad?”

“Hmmm,” Yunjin groaned, her tongue feeling like lead. She tried fluttering her eyes, but they stuck to closed no matter how much she tried. Her mind was already drifting again, and she let it, melting into the mattress as the sound around her blurred into one soft humming melody. The pressure on her scalp was nice, the touch cool against her heated skin. Sleeping was nicer than being awake, though, and she dozed off in a matter of seconds, the fever taking her away again.

“Yunjin-unnie? Hey, Yunjin-unnie…”

Someone was softly tapping on her shoulder. Yunjin hummed, feeling like she was coming back from one of the most satisfying naps she’d ever had. Her eyes opened far easier than before and slowly, Eunchae appeared above her, giving a soft smile.

“Hey, I got some soup if you’re hungry? Think you can sit up?”

Not fully awake yet, Yunjin let the younger manhandle her until she was propped up against some pillows, upright enough to carefully sip at the soup. She let the girl feed her too, holding back a moan of satisfaction when the heavenly flavor hit her tongue. Though it was hot, Eunchae made sure to blow on every scoop, and all Yunjin had to do was enjoy the care for once. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d spend this much time with the younger, let alone eat a home cooked meal.

(A hint of tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to acknowledge them. She was not going to cry about some soup of all things.)

“You shouldn’t eat too much yet,” Eunchae told her apologetically when they reached the bottom of the bowl. “But there’s more where that came from and you can heat it up whenever you’re hungry again. Are you feeling a bit better now, Unnie?”

Yunjin nodded, sagging against the pillows. Now that her stomach was full for the first time in a long time, she felt drowsy all over again. She didn’t want to sleep just yet, but fighting it was a struggle. She almost dozed off right then and there, until she glanced out of the window and saw it was night already. She sat up straighter, panic bursting in her chest.

“Wait, Eunchae, my shift- I- I’ve got work-”

Gently, Eunchae pushed her back down against the pillows. “It’s okay, Unnie, we called you in sick at the restaurant. You aren’t missing a shift now.”

“But- But I need to-”

“You don’t need to do anything but rest. Also-” Eunchae pointed a wagging finger Yunjin’s way. “-don’t think you’re off the hook about your apparent second job that you didn’t tell us about. You’ve got some explaining to do once you’re better and you’re not getting out of it. You’ve been disappearing on us for months now, and suddenly we find out that you are overworking yourself to the point of fainting in Chaewon-unnie’s arms? We knew you’d fall for her someday, but this was a bit too dramatic even for you.”

There was an amused twinkle in her eye, but still her tone left no room for arguments. Yunjin looked down, properly chastised. Seemingly satisfied that her message had come across, Eunchae patted Yunjin’s knee before standing up, taking the empty bowl with her.

“Try to get some more rest, Unnie. We’ll be around whenever you wake up and need something, just call or shoot a text, okay?”

She sent Yunjin a thumbs up before leaving the room. Yunjin sighed, unsure if she was happy about her friends knowing part of her schedule now. At least they thought she had only two jobs, so maybe that meant that if she stayed quiet now, she’d be able to slip out in the morning to go to the convenience store. Sick hours weren’t paid there, so she needed to go. Hopefully the others would sleep in and only notice her absence when she was already gone.

The next morning, she was awake before her alarm ever rang. Quietly, she slipped out of bed, padding across the room to pull on her work uniform. She was relieved to find that most of her nausea and dizziness had disappeared. The soup had really helped. Maybe she could have another bowl after her shift.

Opening her door, she daydreamed about that soup when she suddenly froze, meeting the eyes of none other than a stern Kazuha. The girl had her arms crossed, her foot tapping.

“Where are you going this early in the morning, Unnie?”

“Uh,” Yunjin responded eloquently. She struggled to think of a good excuse, and the momentary stumble was enough for Kazuha to raise an eyebrow.

“I hope you weren’t planning on going to your third job?” She asked, clearly knowing exactly that that was where Yunjin was headed. The shirt gave it kind of away already, but Yunjin still tensed. Her legs weren’t happy with her standing for so long and she gripped the doorway, trying to look casual and not like she was on the verge of keeling over. Her fever might have broken, but she wasn’t back to normal yet.

“Third job?” She tried weakly. “What third job?”

Apparently she wasn’t fooling either of them, because Kazuha simply sighed, dropping her arms.

“Unnie, we called you sick for the store too, so please go back to bed? I promise you don’t have anywhere to be until you’re better.”

Yunjin’s eyes widened and before she knew it, something broke inside of her. Not just because those were the words she’d been longing to hear, but because she knew she could never believe them. She did have somewhere to be. She couldn’t wait until she was better, she couldn’t afford to.

She tried to make that clear to Kazuha.

“I’m all better now, Zuha, it’s okay. I can work. My shift at the store isn’t that taxing and- and I’ll manage, I swear-”

Kazuha frowned. “But Unnie, you don’t have to work. You shouldn’t work when you’re sick. They understand that too. You’re not losing your job if you miss a single day.”

“No, but- I can’t skip, you don’t understand-”

“Unnie?”

Yunjin hated that tears were already welling up in her eyes. She felt weak, weaker than even the day before, because now it was not just her body, but her mind that she couldn’t control. She’d held on so tight to her conviction, they couldn’t take this away from her, not now. She only had to hold on for a couple more months. She had to earn enough money to save for next year. She couldn’t stop, not now, not today-

“Oh, Unnie, whatever you’re thinking, it’s not true, okay?”

Kazuha stepped forward and hugged Yunjin, taking her by surprise. A small gasp left her, which soon morphed into soft sobbing. Yunjin clung to Kazuha, crying from exhaustion and desperation.

“I need that money, Zuha,” she said brokenly. “I can’t take a sick day. My managers don’t care about me being sick. They don’t pay any of the hours I'm not there. I have to go-”

“No.” Kazuha pressed her closer. “No, Unnie. That’s not legal and I’m not letting you go. Sick leave has to be paid, and if they don’t, then you shouldn’t stay there anyway. I’ll help you find a better job, one where they do appreciate you. Please don’t beat yourself up over this.”

But Yunjin couldn’t help it. She cried, the exhaustion of the year catching up to her and leaving her trembling and broken. Kazuha was there to keep her together as she shattered, carefully holding her pieces until she was ready to put them back together again. She’d never dared thinking of finding another job, too scared that this was it for her. As a foreigner, not a lot of places wanted to accept her, even if she spoke like a native thanks to her friends. They couldn’t see that, only her foreign passport and the amount of paperwork it would cost them to take her on.

“Shhh, it’s okay. Can I help you back to bed? Come on, Unnie… let’s get you back to bed…”

Yunjin felt like a small kid in Kazuha's arms as she was gently led back inside the room. Kazuha didn’t bother changing her out of the store’s shirt, but instead offered her a cardigan that was soft and warm and swallowed her whole. She helped Yunjin climb under the covers, pulling them up to her head and making sure she was comfortable.

“Just rest, okay? We’ve got you covered. You can leave everything to us.”

Yunjin was too worn from crying to debate that anymore, so she just closed her eyes and tried to believe Kazuha’s words. With the pay she was missing right now, she would be taken back a couple of steps in her year plan, but maybe she could still make it. If she just worked harder, take on a couple more hours…

She fell asleep in a fitful sleep this time, mind full of worry.

Sakura and Chaewon woke her up in the afternoon for some more soup, which she ate in silence. Yunjin could feel their stares, but refused to meet their eyes, knowing she would only find disappointment there. She’d lied to them. And even worse, she’d left them behind, too focussed on trying to keep her head above the water that she had probably hurt them more than she could even imagine.

She couldn’t bear to see that in front of her. Their betrayal, their disappointment. She’d rather ignore them and make it worse than face it. She’d always been selfish like that.

“Yunjinnie?” It was Chaewon who broke the silence when the soup was gone and she took the bowl from Yunjin’s hands. “How are you feeling?”

Yunjin shrugged, not too keen on speaking when she was once again on the verge of crying. It felt like this was her natural state now. Once she’d been strong and proud, a force to be reckoned with. Now, she was just a shell, always feeling like she was breaking, always having this burning in her eyes and nose. She’d become a shameful crybaby, someone who constantly felt sorry for herself no matter if she got her way or not.

The awkward silence stretched between them. Eventually it was Sakura who spoke up with a sigh, leaning forward to catch Yunjin’s stubborn gaze.

“We wanted to tell you this later, but if you’re really this worried still… we prepared this for you.”

She produced a notepad from her back and handed it to Yunjin. Yunjin took it and read the list unsurely. It had different places nearby with numbers written next to them. She frowned, looking up at Sakura.

“What is this?”

“A list. Of places that would accept you immediately and have a higher pay than any of the places you work at right now. When you tried to sneak out this morning we realized that you would never accept money from us to help you, so… we compiled this. I already went to the office of the social media agency-” She tapped the list to point at the place she mentioned. “-and Chaewonnie called in a favor at the place she works at to ask if they would take you for their content creation department. This one’s at the cinema we like to go to and they’re searching for a junior program manager, so when I told them you have worked in multiple teams already and know how to corral a group to work together, they enthusiastically told me they’d love for you to apply.”

“Most of these jobs are partially remote too,” Chaewon cut in. “So it’s easier to combine it with your studies. If you don’t like any of these options, we can always search for more, but…”

Both looked at Yunjin with so much hope. Yunjin looked between the list and her friends, speechless for a totally different reason than sadness. She was touched, and the tears that still threatened to fall were morphing into ones of pure relief.

“You did that… all for me?”

Her friends smiled, a bit of tension falling from their shoulders as Yunjin didn’t immediately reject it.

“We all did,” Sakura said. “We never want to see you hit rock bottom ever again, Jinnie. I for one don’t want to see you push yourself like this and end up in a bodybag any day soon.”

“Unnie!” Chaewon said, shaking her head. “What she means is that we might not know why you thought you needed to push yourself this hard, but from now on you don’t anymore. We’re here to support you from behind, okay? Just… lean on us from time to time. We miss you.”

And really, if she didn’t want to see Yunjin crying, then she had no right saying things like that. Before she could stop it, the tears escaped and streamed down her cheeks, alarming her friends immediately.

“Are you okay?” Chaewon asked, eyes widening. Her eyes flitted around the room as if she’d be able to find another reason for Yunjin’s distress. “Is your stomach acting up? Was the soup too much?”

Yunjin couldn’t help but let out a wet giggle, wiping at her eyes. “No, I’m- I’m okay.”

“Are you sure? Can I give you some water? A tissue? Do you need painkillers?”

“Unnie, I’m okay. I promise. I’m- Thank you. Thank you so much.”

Yunjin broke down, unable to keep strong anymore. Even though the realization came a bit late for the other two, they must have finally understood her tears were the good kind, as they swept in to hug her before long and she was engulfed by warmth and soft chuckles.

“Let it out, Yunjinnie. Just let it out.” Sakura rubbed her back, as Chaewon went to card her fingers through her hair just like before. Yunjin positively melted into them, sobbing as her heart felt lighter than it had done in years. She was so glad she’d met these wonderful girls. Her choice to study abroad had brought her so much, both pain and comfort, and these friends, she really couldn’t imagine living without.

“You’re amazing,” she whispered, not knowing if they’d even hear it. “Thank you.”

Sometimes, she didn’t need to be strong on her own. Her meddling friends had shown her that. She was infinitely grateful for them and decided that she would never stop showing her gratitude for them. She would keep working hard, earning her right to study here and stay by their side.

Although this time, she would learn to pace herself. They’d help her with it, so she wasn’t worried. She’d be fine.

Chapter Text

The new choreographer is a Creep with a capital C. No matter how many times Chan tells him that he’s just imagining it, he knows the guy keeps staring during practice, and every time he gives pointers to Hyunjin, he hears this weird kind of edge in the words, like the guy thinks he's greater than everyone else and wants to boast about it. He only does it to Hyunjin, though, which sets him even more on edge. Whether it's Danceracha or the whole group together, the guy gives Hyunjin special attention.

And it. Creeps. Hyunjin. Out.

Even though Bang Taeyang has been part of their dance team for about two months now, Hyunjin still can't get used to him. Frustratingly, it seems he's the only one. Even now, as they finish up drafting the choreo for their newest comeback and the others are sharing a light-hearted conversation with the man, he keeps glancing Hyunjin's way with something sharp in his eyes. Hyunjin ignores him, packing his bag and focusing on the water bottle he's stuffed in there for about four times already, but there's this itch under his skin. He wants to hide, to run away from those eyes. He wants the man to stop looking.

"That's a very good idea, Minho-ssi. Maybe Hyunjin-ssi and I can refine that move a bit more? I know you and Felix-ssi have to leave pretty soon for the fashion show."

"If that wouldn't be too much work?" Minho says, and Hyunjin's head snaps up, all pretenses not to be listening thrown out of the window immediately. Bang Taeyang is already looking his way, a little pull at his lips looking far too much like a satisfied smirk.

"I can stay a little longer too," Felix offers, giving Hyunjin an actual smile. "I mean, it's not like I have to prepare anything and the flight is only later tonight-"

Bang Taeyang waves it away with a careless hand. "Ah, no, that's not necessary. I wouldn't want to hold you back and you deserve some rest before your taxing schedule picks up again. I'm sure Hyunjin-ssi and I will be fine together. Won't we, Hyunjin-ssi?"

The man pins Hyunjin down in his place and the idol stiffens, unsure of what to say. On the one hand, he doesn't want to be pathetic and ask for Felix to stay just because he feels uncomfortable with someone. On the other hand, Bang Taeyang is really giving him the shivers, so maybe he should just listen to his survival instincts and refuse to be left alone with the guy.

Allas, his professional side wins out over the part of him that whines for safety, and before he knows it, he forces a smile and nods.

"Of course," he confirms. "I think we can fix it in no time anyway."

The reassurance is more for himself than the others, but even so it succeeds in making Felix accept to leave. Minho and Felix bid them goodbye and Hyunjin pulls his water bottle back out of his bag, resigning himself to another hour of dancing. At least it won't be just mindless repetition and full choreos, but only tweaking a single move. He'll make sure that won't take too long.

The door closes and Bang Taeyang fully turns Hyunjin's way, his smirk growing until it actively sends goosebumps across the dancer's back.

"Are you gonna sit there for the rest of the afternoon?" the man jokes. "I won't bite, you know? You can come closer."

Hyunjin lets out a forced chuckle, reluctantly pushing himself to his feet. He comes to stand beside the choreographer as per his insistence, and already feels the need to go back to the bench again. This guy really doesn't pass his vibe check.

"Okay, so what was the move again?" he asks, keeping his tone professional. He starts repeating the part of the choreo they weren't satisfied with yet, before a loud laugh from Bang Taeyang makes him stop in his tracks.

"There's no need to play the game anymore, Hyunjin-ah," the man laughs, stepping closer. Hyunjin immediately takes a step back.

"Game, sir?"

Bang Taeyang's eyes drop down before they slowly rove upwards across Hyunjin's body.

"There's no need to play hard to get anymore. We're alone now if you hadn't noticed. There's no need to pretend here."

"Sir, what-"

He can barely blink before Bang Taeyang is suddenly all up in his space, hands gripping his arms and pinning them in place as the guy leans in close. His hot breath rakes of spices and Hyunjin only has the time to flinch away before there's a pair of lips hovering right beside his ear.

"You like me chasing you, don't you? I've seen you stare and then look away. Did you think I wouldn't notice? All this back and forth, all this teasing. I know how pretty faces like you work, Hyunjin-ah-" Hyunjin tenses up involuntarily as the choreographer kisses the top of his ear, trailing down to his neck. "I know what you really want, no matter how much you deny it…"

Finally some of his freeze response morphs into fight and Hyunjin finds the strength to wrench himself out of the man's hold, stepping back in shock.

"Sir, this is not- I never-"

Bang Taeyang chuckles and surges forward, taking Hyunjin off-guard as his lips crash against Hyunjin's. Pure disgust explodes in Hyunjin's chest and he pushes the man away, causing them both to stumble separate ways.

"Stop!"

The sharp glint in Taeyang's eyes only darkens and he advances, making Hyunjin flee backwards just as fast.

"You still want to play hard to get? Alright, I'll play along-"

Bang Taeyang grabs him again, bruisingly tight this time and Hyunjin hisses in pain. The man's nails dig into his arms and he struggles against him, trying to break free. The choreographer is surprisingly strong and he refuses to let go.

"You're even prettier when you fight, Hyunjin-ah," the guy drawls, staring at Hyunjin's face like he's planning on eating him whole. "I bet you'll be even more beautiful once you start screaming…"

That's the last straw, and with panic-fueled adrenaline, Hyunjin wrenches himself free once more and bolts across the room to his bag. If he can just get to his phone, he can call the others, or maybe even security. The guy's blocking his way out, but if he can just get help, get someone in here to stop him-

His heart beats in his throat as he fumbles through his bag, grabbing his phone and whirling around right on time to see Bang Taeyang advance on him.

"Ah, ah, ah-" The man snatches Hyunjin's phone out of his hand and Hyunjin gasps. "No telling anyone about this. Wouldn't want your secret to be out, right, Hyunjin-ah? That you play for the wrong team? What would the fans think if they knew you were gay?"

"I'm not-" Hyunjin tries to lunge for his phone, but Bang Taeyang keeps it out of his reach, far too much mirth on his face as he plays with Hyunjin.

"I felt how you kissed me back," the man says smugly. "You can't deny you liked it."

"I didn't! Give me my phone!"

"I wonder how it will feel once I get Felix alone next. He's such a pretty thing too. More delicate even. I wonder if he'll beg for me to stop. I wonder if he whimpers."

Hyunjin stops, nausea washing over him as images of a bruised, crying Felix pop up in his mind.

"I- I- You wouldn't-"

Bang Taeyang hums. "But I would. If you tell anyone, one of your precious maknaes is going to be next. I bet I.N will cry real pretty too. He's got a bit of fiery attitude, you know? I want to see how I can break him."

The man steps forward as if he knows he's won. Hyunjin doesn't move, paralyzed with fear for his members. Panic and nausea clash inside of him and make him sick. His face pales and he shakes, but stays in place. There's nowhere to run anyway and no chance for him to get help. He sucks in a breath when Bang Taeyang stops right in front of him, taking his hand and pushing the phone into it teasingly.

"So? What's it gonna be? Are you gonna be good for me, Hyunjin-ah?"

Hyunjin gulps, but stays still. It's like a deal with the devil, one he knows he has no choice but to accept. Bang Taeyang trails a hand over Hyunjin's collarbone, his fingers drawing goosebumps across his skin.

"Hmm, I thought you would. I can't wait to see how well-behaved you'll be once you realize you're stuck with me now. We're going to have so much fun together, baby~"

Bang Taeyang steps away, his fingers leaving a blazing hot trail behind.

"Next time, don't even try to fight. We're going to need to revise the choreography again, don't you think? How about tomorrow, same time? I'll book this room and make sure no one will be looking for us for the rest of the afternoon. Be sure to tell no one, okay? Remember what I told you before."

And with that, the man leaves. Actually just leaves, as if he hasn't just rocked Hyunjin's entire world and made everything wrong. The moment he's gone, Hyunjin's knees fold and he collapses to the ground, dry-heaving. The places where the man had touched him burn and he aches to rub it away, to step into the shower and scratch his skin off until he's clean again. His mind whirls with twisted visions of the others in pain, stuck under the guy's hands and begging for him to stop. He can't do that to them. He needs to protect them no matter the cost.

He goes back home as a shell of a person, not even really recognizing that he's home until the shower's ice cold spray hits him in his face. He'd undressed machinally, and now he's shivering, quickly turning the water to a warmer temperature before he freezes to death. Maybe that wouldn't be so bad, though, as at least that'll stop the ghost impressions of his hot breath, his words, his fingers, his lips.

Silent tears run down along with the water. Hyunjin doesn't really notice them. His mind can't grapple with how wrong he still feels. He's never felt this way before. The world around him blurs, until he comes to again under the covers of his bed, the silence of the dorm a suppressing prison all around him. He's still crying.

He curls up, burying into his pillow and lets his body break down. He doesn't know what he can do except fall apart. The man's words repeat on loop in his head.

Are you gonna be good for me, Hyunjin-ah?

He shudders.

How about tomorrow, same time? I'll book this room and make sure no one will be looking for us for the rest of the afternoon…

Hyunjin cries without a sound.

Keeping secrets has never been Hyunjin's talent, and so when dance practice ends the next day, he's as rigid as can be, robotically walking over to his bag to pretend he's leaving even if he can't. The others recognize something's wrong immediately, or maybe they knew the entire practice long—either way, Changbin's the first one to slide up to him, a worried frown pulling at his features.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks quietly. Hyunjin nods before he can even think about it.

"Fine."

He tugs on his hoodie, feeling far too hot and sweaty in it but knowing he can't pull it off or else everyone will see his bruises. Minho and Felix are still gone, wrapped up in their fashion show, so today they had practice with only the six of the remaining members. It helps, knowing that at least Felix isn't in direct danger. But Jeongin still is. Hyunjin glances at him from the corner of his eyes, heart rate spiking as he finds the younger staring back already.

And not only that, but Bang Taeyang is staring too. At Hyunjin. His eyes drill into his head like he's mentally undressing him already, and a shudder violates Hyunjin's body before he can help it.

Of course, Changbin notices.

"Are you cold?" he asks, frown deepening. "You aren't getting sick, are you?"

He tries to reach out, tugging at Hyunjin's sleeve, but that's the exact place Bang Taeyang touched him and Hyunjin flinches involuntarily.

"Don't touch me," he hisses. Changbin's eyes blow wide at the tone. Hyunjin's rarely snappy, especially at the older members.

"Jin-ah…"

Hyunjin backs away, rubbing his arms.

"Today's not a good day, okay? Just… leave me alone for a bit. I'll be fine."

Changbin clearly doesn't want to leave it at that, but the group is way too good at giving each other space, and so even while everything inside of Hyunjin is crying out for help and for him to stay, Changbin retreats, leaving him alone.

In fact, they all do. One by one, the members leave the room to go off to their own solo schedules. Hyunjin watches them go. When Seungmin stops at the door to ask if he's coming, he brushes him off with an excuse that he wants to go over a new choreo for a bit, but that he can go ahead. The lie is so believable that Hyunjin is slowly starting to hate himself, but when he sees Bang Taeyang watching with that same glint in his eye, he's reminded that if he doesn't do this, Seungmin could experience the same thing he has, and he'll never allow that.

Finally, he's left alone with the choreographer, and the man wastes no time in closing the door and stalking forward to Hyunjin, who immediately freezes in his spot. Bang Taeyang seizes him up like a piece of meat, actually licking his lips.

"Now where were we, Hyunjin-ah? We played a little and then… Oh, that's right. We kissed."

He says it like he gets off merely on the thought alone and Hyunjin shudders, battling with himself not to make a move. The man stops before him and lifts a hand to his jaw, tilting his head.

"Let's pick up right where we left off, hm?"

Without waiting for an answer, he kisses Hyunjin, immediately pushing out his tongue and biting in the idol's lip once he's assured the boy doesn't move. Hyunjin can't; the threat that one of the younger members could be next is enough to trap him in place no matter what the man decides to do. He does squeeze his eyes closed though, trying to be anywhere but there.

Something pulls at the drawstrings of his training pants and Hyunjin can't help but suck in a gasp, accidentally inhaling some of the choreographer's wretched perfume. Bang Taeyang smirks, slowly untangling the drawstrings and toying with them.

"I'm going to have so much fun with you," he practically growls. "I'm gonna make sure you learn to enjoy it too, baby."

Finally, his fingers start pulling down the pants and through Hyunjin's closed eyes, a small tear escapes.

That's when the door to the practice room slams open and a bellowing voice shouts:

"What do you think you're doing?!"

Hyunjin's eyes fly open and find Changbin in the door opening. Relief floods him for a millisecond, before it's replaced with ice cold dread. No, no, no. If Bang Taeyang decides that he'll move onto the older members instead, Changbin could get seriously hurt-

"Oh fucking hell." The choreographer's hands leave Hyunjin's pants and he turns, a scowl on his face. "It's a little late to play the hero now, boy."

Changbin seems to be ready to explode, his face murderous, and he holds his phone up for them to see. It's on a call.

"If I'm the hero, you're definitely the villain. And you'll get the punishment for it you deserve."

That's when Hyunjin realizes the phone number is that of the police. All of a sudden, multiple of their security guards rush inside the room, going straight for Bang Taeyang before the man can even utter a single curse. He tries, he even tries to turn back to Hyunjin and grab his arm again, but his hands are wrenched back before he can do so and he's hauled out of the room, writhing and sneering. Hyunjin watches him go, feeling oddly detached and like he's floating.

He only comes back to himself when Changbin's suddenly in front of him, worriedly asking him if he's alright while he scans him from head to toe.

"Did he hurt you anywhere? Jinnie, please answer me, are you okay?"

Seeing the real concern in those eyes, such a stark contrast to the vile hunger that had been aimed at him before, Hyunjin can't keep it together anymore. His legs give out and he falls forward, Changbin only fast enough to catch him because he was already there. He stumbles back, lowering to the floor with Hyunjin in his arms as fat tears streak down the dancer's cheeks. He clings to Changbin like his life depends on it and cries, letting out all the pain inside of him because he can't do this. He can't handle this anymore. He feels dirty, like no shower in the world will ever clean him properly again.

"Hyunjinnie? Hey, please talk to me. What's wrong, where does it hurt?"

Hyunjin just shakes his head, too relieved to muster any words. Changbin lets him cry, rubbing his back and murmuring sweet reassurances once he realizes he's not going to get an answer out of the younger any time soon. Hyunjin breaks down in his arms and it's such a difference from the night before, that it only makes him cry harder. He cries for the loss of something he can't even name. He cries for himself, and for the fate that the others have avoided now. He cries because he knows he should have put up more of a fight, but he couldn't. He was a coward, and he just let this happen.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm here. This is not your fault, okay? Shhh, it's okay. You're fine. You're gonna be fine."

Changbin's arms are strong and warm around him and Hyunjin feels like they are the only thing keeping him together. He buries his head into the older's shoulder, body racking with sobs.

"That guy's never getting close to you again. He's gonna get blacklisted, I'll make sure of it. You're okay, Jinnie, I promise. I've got you, I've got you."

Hyunjin's not going to be okay for a long time, but he believes Changbin wholeheartedly. Changbin's got him. The others do too, as soon as they learn about this. He's gonna be fine. The worst didn't happen and he… he'll heal.

Even if that feels impossible right now.

Chapter Text

The door swishes open soundlessly and Taehyun steps inside, nodding without really looking at the person already in the elevator.

"Mornin'," he mumbles, shrugging his gym back up higher on his shoulder as his eyes find a non-descript spot to look at on the wall in front of him.

"Oh, good morning, Taehyun-hyung."

Taehyun looks up at the familiar voice and is pleasantly surprised to find Jungwon giving him a small wave. He grins, happy to get even these couple of seconds with his friend.

"Oh hey, Jungwonnie, are you heading to the gym too?" He shows off his bag. Jungwon shakes his head.

"No, I'm going to the recording studios. PD-nim called me back in to fix some layering."

Taehyun hums, coming to stand beside him as the doors slide close. He slings an arm around the boy's shoulders, Jungwon slotting into the space there with a hum on his own.

"I heard you guys are preparing your comeback," Taehyun starts. "How's that going? Any fights broken out already?"

Jungwon snorts, rolling his eyes. "Oh, you have no idea. Just yesterday, Jay-hyung snapped at Heeseung-hyung just for grabbing the wrong water bottle. And the day before that, Sunoo stepped on Jake's foot, and you know the guy, he doesn't fight quickly, but I think he was just really irritated already, because he blew up at hyung and I know—I told the others—that we shouldn't laugh, but it was just too funny how Jake-hyung got all red in the face-"

Jungwon fills the time they wait with his funny stories. Because there are far too many floors in the HYBE building, the elevator ride takes a while, the numbers ticking by one by one. 13. 14. 15….

A weird sound suddenly clunks against the roof of the elevator and the whole thing rocks, both boys inside yelping as they're thrown against the wall. Taehyun braces himself against it, looking around the elevator in confusion.

"What was that?"

The lights shut off and Taehyun can't help the tiny scream that leaves him. A whimper comes from Jungwon, and on instinct their hands find each other. They press together, wide eyes trying to see anything in the dark. Their heights don't vary much, so Taehyun can easily press his head against Jungwon's, curling against him like he's the only shield protecting him from whatever lurks in the darkness.

"Did it break down?" Jungwon asks in a tiny voice.

"Uh-" Taehyun gulps. "That has to be it, right? But the emergency electricity should kick in soon. At least the lights should come back-"

Right as he says it, the lights in the ceiling turn back on, though this time with a meager, greenish tint to it that casts the entire metal box in spookish hues. A little sigh of relief leaves the two boys, as at least their blindness has been solved for now. The sudden silence doesn't help their nerves, though, and even though Taehyun has half a mind to let go of Jungwon before it can get awkward, his fear wins out and he holds on tight, his heart beating too fast.

Of course this has to happen to them of all people. Taehyun is already known as a coward by both the fans and his members, but they often tend to forget just how true it is. He may play it up for the cameras every once in a while, but his refusal to go inside horror houses and play along to scary games is based on pure survival instinct. No way is he going to put himself in danger, no matter how much the producers and writers try to convince him something is just a game.

"Okay, stay calm, Tae…" he mumbles to himself, gulping as he looks around the very tiny space. "This is still a safe space, no one's going to die…"

Oh yes, his phobia is very much real. He's genuinely scared of practically everything, and no matter how much he tries to fight the fear with a logical mind, that logic often turns around and only makes it worse. He knows the statistics of elevator incidents, knows that thousands of people get injured every year because of them. And what if there's actually something dangerous lurking in the dark? He's seen statistics of assault and murders and knows they tend to happen more at night. There was this one study about violent crimes and the result showed how the highest peak happened at midnight. There was another one that concluded the crimes to happen most in the dark were burglary and criminal damage. Sure, they're in an elevator inside of one of the best-secured buildings in this part of Seoul, but he can't help but think what if.

What if the power outage was on purpose? What if there's someone out there, doing something very dangerous and they could be in the way? What if they are the target? Stuck here and trapped, they are perfectly in place for any well-thought out kidnapping to take place. The criminals could have put drugs in the vents, waiting for Taehyun and Jungwon to slowly lose consciousness until they can simply open the doors and haul their unconscious bodies out of the elevator and to who knows where. Or the elevator could fall, and no one would be able to save them until it was too late and they were crushed to death. Or they could slowly die of oxygen depletion, or of a sudden heart attack brought on by their panic, or of a million other causes that Taehyun's brain takes the time to mention one by one until he's on the verge of hyperventilating already.

He's stuck so deep inside his head that it takes him far too long to notice Jungwon is softly trembling against him. When he does, his thoughts screech to a violent stop and he realizes the other is already hyperventilating.

"Jungwon?"

The younger idol doesn't answer, which alarms Taehyun immediately that something is very wrong. He slowly lets go of the younger, but to his surprise, Jungwon's hand flies up to pull Taehyun right back to where he was, refusing to let go. His hands grasp Taehyun's sleeve with an iron grip, the fingers shaking.

"Jungwonnie?"

"D-Don't Lea-leave," Jungwon wheezes out, his voice quivering. Taehyun's eyes go wide. He's never heard Jungwon sound like that.

"I won't," he says softly, his own hand gripping on tight. "You're alright, I'm here."

"It's just- Has it always been this small in here?"

Taehyun's eyes widen. He looks around the elevator, which he thinks is actually one of the bigger ones the building has. Sure, it's a small space, but they're not squished together or something. They could lie flat out on the ground if they wanted to.

Except for someone with claustrophobia, this elevator isn't as scary as it could have been…

Jungwon whimpers and Taehyun comes to the realization with a metaphoric lightbulb lighting up above his head. Oh. Jungwon's probably got claustrophobia. That's not good, certainly not right now, when they have no way to know how long they're going to be stuck like this.

Jungwon shudders, shallow breaths leaving him that sound like he's barely taking in enough air. Weirdly enough, something in Taehyun calms down at that. He thinks it's his hyung-instinct, which is something he's barely had except for around Kai. Still, this has to be it, as he has the immediate urge to swallow Jungwon in a hug and never let go. His own fear takes a backseat, and all he can think of is how to protect Jungwon from his own mind. A hug wouldn't really help with that, though, because he thinks he can recall an article about panic attacks and that smothering someone can have the opposite effect you want.

What else did the article say again? Something about breathing techniques? It can't hurt to try.

"I think you're having a panic attack," he informs Jungwon, rubbing his arm in another effort to calm him down. "Can you breathe with me? I'll count and you follow, okay?"

He has no idea what he's doing really, but he starts breathing down really deeply, counting in the meantime.

"In for two, three, four, out for two, three four-"

It's an added bonus that he's calming himself down while he's at it, and soon, he and Jungwon slowly slide down against the wall until they're sitting, clinging to each other and breathing in sync. Slowly inhaling, slowly exhaling. He doesn't ask if Jungwon's okay, because he's obviously not, but at least it seems he's gradually getting his bearings again. Recalling another technique from the article, Taehyun thinks about a way to distract the boy from his fear.

"Hey," he softly squeezes Jungwon's arm. "Look what Yeonjun-hyung got for me-" He bends over and grabs his bag he'd discarded when the lights went out, zipping it open and taking out a new resistant band. He tugs at it experimentally, showing how much effort it costs to stretch it even with his entire strength. "Isn't it cool? Stretches and squats are going to be so much more hellish once I start using it. I actually started using resistance bands a while ago already, but this one's tougher so I can take it up a notch and you know what the crazy thing is? I didn't even ask hyung for it. He just saw it at the store when he went shopping the other time and he thought of me. I told him I didn't need anything, but he always likes to give us stuff and he always says we should just accept it. A gift is a gift and even if he refuses to say how much it cost—well, he gets this happy look on his face every time we do accept it, so it's hard to refuse, you know? Plus I really like this resistance band because he even got it in the right color to match my other ones…"

Before he knows it, he's lost himself in his ramble, going on about the other things Yeonjun has gifted him before and about all the workouts he has been trying out these days. Jungwon remains a silent presence at his side, but Taehyun can see the tenseness in his shoulders slowly disappear, so he takes it as a sign that his distraction is working. Even his own panic has vanished for now, the distraction working for them both.

He's snapped out of his ramble when a speaker next to the door crackles to live and a voice starts talking.

"Hello? Is anyone occupying this elevator?"

Taehyun and Jungwon both straighten up, a flash of panic flitting between them before they realize what the voice asked. Taehyun bolts up, pressing the microphone button and answering.

"Yes! Yes, we're stuck in here. Can you get us out?"

"We're working on it, sir. We're testing out all the elevators that were in motion to see how many people have gotten stuck. Can you tell me your name? And are there other people with you?"

"Kang Taehyun. I'm with Yang Jungwon. We're between-" He looks up to check. "-floor 15 and 16."

"Alright, Taehyun-ssi, help is coming your way. It'll only be a couple more minutes."

"Okay, thank you," Taehyun says, relief washing over him. He turns to look at Jungwon, who meets him with the same relief in his eyes. Taehyun goes to sit back down and instantly, his hands find Jungwon's arm again.

"Are you doing better?" he asks. "Any dizziness? Anything hurting?"

Jungwon shakes his head and it seems like he's searching for his words for a second.

"I think I'm fine, I'm… sorry for freaking out on you before. I don't know what came over me."

"The same thing that got me too," Taehyun says with a shrug. "The only reason I wasn't choking right along with you was because my protect-the-baby instincts activated in time."

Jungwon snorts, nudging him with his shoulder. "I'm not the one who's still pale and shaking, though. Are you sure you're not the baby?"

Taehyun gasps in indignation and his hand automatically goes up to touch his cheeks, as if he can feel the color that's drained from his face. He didn't even notice the shaking until Jungwon brought it up, and now he does his best to stop it. Okay, so maybe he isn't as fine as he likes to believe. At least he didn't lose it the minute they got stuck. He tells Jungwon exactly that.

"It's not like I did it on purpose," Jungwon argues back, pouting like the baby he truly is. "But… thanks for the help anyway. I'm sorry for panicking so bad that you had to focus so much on me. I'm sure that couldn't have been easy."

Taehyun drops his hand, nudging Jungwon in the shoulder this time. "Hey, that's alright. It actually helped me too, you know? We're just two cowards in a bad situation. If it wasn't you who'd lost it first, I would have been close behind and you would have been the one to calm me down instead."

They fall into silence, their fear not yet fully gone but at least lessened for now. They don't let go of each other, but at least they have confirmation that they won't have to stay here for long anymore.

Soon enough they can hear voices on the other side of the door. With loud creaking, something metal sticks through the doors and they're wrenched open bit by bit. They can see now that the elevator had been stuck in-between floors, and so half of the door leads to the hallway of the 16th floor, the other half shows a dark wall. People are bustling in the hallway and one of them crouches down, a middle-aged man with an emergency vest.

"Hey there, boys. I hope you haven't been waiting too long. Are you okay?"

Another person crouches down, and Jungwon gasps when they see it's Heeseung.

"Jungwonnie! Are you okay? Oh my God, we were so worried."

"Hyung," is all Jungwon can say in relief before another face plops down and it's Yeonjun this time.

"Taehyun-ah, of course it had to be you getting stuck in a literal hell box. You look awful."

"Good to see you too, hyung," Taehyun deadpans. When both older members shoot a knowing look at the way they're still wound around each other like koalas, Taehyun and Jungwon quickly let go, clearing their throats and pushing themselves to their feet.

"Help me up," Taehyun says and holds out his hand. Despite his teasing, Yeonjun is quick to grab it and pull, helping Taehyun climb out of the doors while Jungwon gets help from Heeseung next to them. They're immediately pulled into tight hugs, which belies the true worry their members must have had for them no matter what they might say out loud.

"It was only a broken elevator," Taehyun teases softly, even though he clings on just as tight. He buries his head against Yeonjun's shoulder. "It wasn't that bad."

"Uhuh," Yeonjun hums, not sounding convinced in the slightest. They can hear Jungwon reassure Heeseung as the older bombards him with questions, scanning him from head to toe as if he'd have started bleeding anywhere from simply being trapped in an elevator.

"I'm okay, hyung, I promise. Taehyun-hyung kept me safe."

Taehyun turns to Jungwon with wide eyes and the younger shoots him a smile.

"I didn't do that much," he mumbles, feeling a bit of heat grow on his cheeks. Of course, the blush doesn't escape Yeonjun and the older laughs loudly. Taehyun hits him in his side to make him stop, which makes the dancer cry out indignantly.

"Yah! I saved you, why are you hitting me?!"

"'s your own fault, hyung. You shouldn't get cocky."

"I didn't even say anything!"

A loud snort comes from Jungwon and Taehyun looks back at him, a smile of his own forming. The temporary scare has already faded to the back of their minds, and now it will only become a tale to laugh about. Taehyun is glad he got stuck with Jungwon of all people. At least with him, he knows he'll never really be teased about it. They're cut from the same cloth after all; scaredy-cats through and through.

"Just wait until I tell the others about this, they're not going to let you live it down- Ouch, stop hitting me already!"

Taehyun doesn't let up with his assault until they need to say goodbye at the recording studios where Heeseung and Jungwon will separate from them. Totally out of character for them both, Taehyun pulls the younger in a surprise hug, bringing him close. It's only for a second before they step apart again, but the sentiment is clear.

Taehyun will always have Jungwon's back, just as Jungwon's always got his.

Chapter Text

"Hyung? Jaehyun, what are you doing?!"

Jaehyun blinks back to the present just as Woonhak yanks his hand out of the streaming water. Coming back from the tendrils of the flashback, Jaehyun can't figure out why Woonhak looks so disturbed, until the boy switches the water to cold and puts Jaehyun's hand back under it.

"Aish, you already burned it, hyung, how the heck did you not notice it was too hot?"

Jaehyun looks down, not really seeing. Had he held his hand under scalding water? He'd just been trying to wash some of the dishes after dinner. He doesn't even feel the burn, though just as Woonhak says, his skin is red and blistering already.

What he does feel is Woonhak's touch, just as hot as the water must have been and this time actually feeling like it burns him. He jerks out of Woonhak's hold, water splattering around on the counter. He hugs his wrist to his chest.

"I- I- uh-"

He can't get a single word out, his brain stuttering like a broken computer with how the flashback still tries to take over. Before he can make a fool of himself even more, he flees, abandoning the couple of plates he'd been planning to clean and instead taking refuge in his room, locking the door. He sinks down on the bed, burying his head in his hands.

He hasn't had a flashback so vivid in more than a year. He thought he was done with it, he thought… he thought that what they did to him finally stopped influencing his life.

A knock sounds on his door.

"Hyung? Are you okay? I've got an icepack here if you wanna cool down the burn some more?"

Jaehyun doesn't look up. The numbness from before is returning and leaving his tongue paralyzed. A minute passes by before the voice on the other side sighs.

"Okay… I'll just… put it in front of your door, okay? And don't worry, I've got the plates."

Footsteps retreat and leave Jaehyun alone, which is his own fault, but also the worst that could happen to him because now his mind has free reign to continue with the flashbacks undisturbed. Jaehyun whimpers, trying not to cry.

"I don't know how you're even still part of this program. You can't sing, you're way too hyper and you can never listen to what the teachers say. Seriously, are you stupid or something?"

"I bet he doesn't even feel it if we do this- Oh? I guess he can. Look at him squirm!"

A phantom burning spreads to his abdomen and Jaehyun curls into himself, whimpering again. Like the cigarette that had been dragged across his skin while they held him, his insides are burning.

"Keep him still, let's see what else he can take-"

Jaehyun shakes his head, not even sure if he's trying to fight the memory or the boys from his past. He knows why he's seeing this. Seeing him in the hallway on his way to the recording studio had caught him off-guard and it had left him defenseless for the onslaught of memories that he brought back. Before he'd joined the debut line-up, things hadn't been the best as a trainee, both at his old and his new company. And this… this had been the worst of the worst. His old company had been big, a dozen classes of trainees making it impossible for teachers to pay attention to every single one of them. Jaehyun had been one of the boys to slip through the cracks and the others had known it, making full use of everything they could get away with.

They… hadn't liked him much, to say the least.

"Oops, my hand slipped. Is that blood already? Is your skin really that unhealthy that you can't even take a little pin prick? Ugh, Jae-hyun is back at it again guys."

"Are you serious? Tsk. Wanna see how much he'll bleed if we did it on purpose?"

"As long as you don't do it where seongseangnim will see, I'm in."

Before Jaehyun knows it, he's pulling his sweatshirt over his head and throwing it against the wall. The fabric was choking him, though even when it's gone, the choking doesn't leave. He wheezes for air, squeezing his eyes shut as goosebumps raise across his skin. He feels where the scars are, the tiny cuts, the old burns, all of it. His members don't know, he hasn't shown them, always careful to wear at least one extra layer during practice and workouts. If they knew… Jaehyun can't even imagine it. He's too ashamed. Ashamed of his past and his cowardness. He should have stood up for himself. He should've fought harder, pushed back, actually told a grown-up of what was happening.

But then he'd also never have moved companies. He would have never met the boys, would have never made it to the debut line-up or lived his dream like this.

He thought he could leave it all behind. Pretend it never happened. He never expected one of the other trainees to follow him to KOZ.

"Did you know you can read Jae as ashes? Don't you think it fits him? I mean, he's already burned out before he's even made it to debut."

"Ha, what a lame name. Ashes, like something that's already ruined? That's kinda pathetic, you know?"

"Yeah, maybe it's better if he just quit before he embarrasses himself even further. I mean, did you see his monthly showcase?"

It had been just a glimpse, just a single moment where Jaehyun had looked around as he and the boys had been walking through the HYBE building. They'd been laughing about something, but then he'd seen that face, that posture, even the confident air of someone who hasn't earned it oozing off of him—it had been unmistakable.

They were back. Or at least that one boy. Which meant Jaehyun wasn't safe anymore. Isn't safe anymore.

A knock on his door again. This time, Jaehyun looks up, anything not to see those leering faces anymore, those smirks, those wicked eyes.

"Hyung? You didn't grab the icepack, so… are you okay? Have you gone to sleep already? The others upstairs made too many short ribs so I was going there for a late night snack. Do you wanna come too? You don't have to, of course, but at least make a sound so I know you're okay in there?"

Jaehyun wants to. He wants so badly, but he can't. His throat has locked up, and his mind keeps replaying the things he wants to forget the most on a loop. Woonhak's voice mixes with those of his past, and he can't for the life of him tell which ones are really there.

"Did you hear? Jae-hyun is leaving. Finally."

"I hear he's going to another company. Stupid kid thinks he's too good for us or something."

"Think we need to teach him one final lesson he won't forget?"

"Hyung, you better not be naked in there because I'm coming in-"

Jaehyun's vision returns right the moment the door bursts open, the flimsy lock clattering to the ground as Woonhak stumbles in, shoulder thrown in front. The boy freezes, however, as soon as he lays eyes on Jaehyun's naked upper body.

"Gawk, hyung, you are naked!" He twists around so fast Jaehyun wonders how he can still stand upright. He snatches his shirt from the ground, blindly throwing it backwards and hitting Jaehyun square in the jaw.

"Yah, Woonhak-ah," he says half-heartedly, fighting to stay present as he slowly pulls on the shirt. Right, he can't lose it now. Not here, not while the others are around and can see him like this. He hopes Woonhak hasn't seen too much.. "What have I said about barging into my room without permission?"

"It's not my fault this time! You didn't answer me and I was worried! See if I worry about you again. Hmpf." The younger crosses his arms, sneaking a glance over his shoulder to see if Jaehyun is covered up again. When he sees that he is, Woonhak turns back to face the older boy. "So what were you doing just sitting like that? Were you sleeping upright? How would you even do that?"

"I'm- No, I wasn't sleeping. Just thinking." Jaehyun quickly wipes at his cheeks, cursing that a hint of tears had gathered around his eyelashes.

"For an hour? You were so quiet I thought you'd climbed out the window and left us for good."

Jaehyun frowns, starting to be offended. He grabs onto the feeling with both hands, needing something to distract him from the panic and phantom pains still dancing across his skin. "Yah, what are you even talking about? No sound doesn't mean I'm gone and it's certainly no excuse to just barge in like this."

Woonhak shrugs as if he's unbothered, but Jaehyun can't help but notice how the younger's eyes trail down to the torso the shirt is now hiding again.

"Uhm, so…" Woonhak starts, sounding un-characteristically soft. "Okay, this is gonna sound weird, but are you really okay, hyung? How long have you had those scars? What… what happened?"

Jaehyun goes rigid, his breath catching in his throat. He never wanted anyone to see and he thought Woonhak had looked away fast enough. Self-consciously, his hands come up to cover his shirt, even if that makes it even more clear that he's hiding something underneath.

In a rare show of empathy, Woonhak drops his arms, his face softening to genuine concern at Jaehyun's hesitation.

"Hey, if you don't wanna tell me you don't have to. You know I'm too curious for my own good. Just tell me I need to shut up and I'll never ask you about it again."

"I-" Jaehyun blanks. What takes him by surprise is the urge to actually tell him. He wants someone else to know about this. He wants to share his pain and finally be done with it, to no longer keep it in the shadows where they can still hurt him. He exhales shakily, his resolve strengthening.

"You know how I came from another company, right?"

Woonhak's eyes go wide when he realizes Jaehyun is actually telling him about it, and he moves over to the bed, probably feeling that Jaehyun needs all the support he can get. He sits close, letting Jaehyun take the lead in what he wants to do and if he wants to touch. He doesn't yet, but the thought alone already makes him less nervous about this.

"Right," he answers himself. "So you could say the other trainees didn't like me very much…"

Woonhak sucks in a breath. "No way, they did this to you?!" His voice is loud and shocked and Jaehyun flinches. Immediately, Woonhak tones it down. "Sorry, go on."

Jaehyun swallows. "Yeah, so, most of these were pretty harmless-" He slowly rolls up his sleeve, showing the small littering of cuts and tiny burned stripes on the insides of his arms. "-but when they heard I was transferring here, they wanted to give me one last parting gift."

Taking in a deep breath, he pulls up his sweatshirt before he can regret it, showing Woonhak his side and the large burn mark that will forever remain on his skin there. The skin stretches taut and darkened, it looks hideous, and Jaehyun quickly lowers his shirt again. It's not exactly a forced reveal, and he's thankful for that, but he doesn't want to show it any longer than he has to. At least like this, he has full autonomy about his actions and who he tells, and Woonhak—like the champ he is—seems to realize just how much that means to him.

He nods, lips pressed tight, the worry in his gaze never leaving as he looks up to the older boy's face.

"That's awful."

"Yeah," Jaehyun says, finally admitting it to himself out loud. All these months, he'd tried to think of a reason why they would have done it. Had it been because he'd really been so useless? Was he somehow the cause of their jealousy and animosity? But no, his time with his members had taught him one important thing, and that's that everyone who did their best deserved to be treated with kindness. He'd been so closed-off and wary when he'd first been put in the debut line-up, too scared to be let down and hurt again by other trainees' lacerations, but his boys had shown him that he hadn't needed to worry about anything. With them, he could see a future, he could see himself become vulnerable and he could see himself finally trust again

They let him see that what happened to him had been awful, and he hadn't been at fault.

"Does it… still hurt?" Woonhak asks carefully. Jaehyun shakes his head.

"Only the memory does. The burn has healed already. I barely feel it anymore. It was just today that I… I got reminded of it."

Woonhak tilts his head in a silent question.

"I saw one of them. One of those old trainees and I- I guess my mind just immediately went back to that time. Sorry if I scared you with my behavior earlier."

Woonhak hums, shaking his head. "Me, scared? Of course not." Some of his bravado leaves for a softer tone as he adds: "You just had me worried for a sec there. You didn't hear me and you just kept your hand under that tap and I didn't know how to snap you out of it. Sorry for touching you so suddenly."

"No, it helped," Jaehyun admits. He finally takes the icepack from Woonhak's hands and places it on his hand. "Thanks. Sometimes you just gotta be a little rough with me I guess."

"Hyung…" Woonhak watches him with conflicted expression.

"No, I don't mean it like that. I know you guys would never treat me like they did. I just meant that sometimes a reminder can be nice."

At that, Woonhak seems more relieved, and he nods. "Ah, that I can do." He bumps his shoulder against Jaehyun in a friendly way. "Does it help that you talked about it now? I'm sorry for what they did. I swear I won't ever let them anywhere near you, hyung."

Jaehyun gives a little smile. "Thanks. When I see them again, I'll be sure to let you know." He holds up a finger. "But no murder. Harmless revenge is the limit."

Woonhak sags his shoulders and gives him the biggest pout he can. "But hyunggggg, revenge can't be harmless, that defeats the whole point."

"Well then maybe we just need to let them be. After all, I'm the one who debuted and they're still stuck being trainees."

That makes Woonhak drop his pout, and a grin of his own starts to form.

"That's true. They're the real losers. You just show them how awesome you can be with your performance and blow them all away as your revenge. I bet they'll be crying for their mamas once we started getting our first awards."

Jaehyun chuckles, all of his earlier panic slowly disappearing. "You sound oddly confident."

"Of course, our team's the best. Duh."

"Even with me in it?"

Woonhak's grin widens. "Especially with you in it. And me. Really, they won't ever be able to combat this deadly duo." He knocks his fists together proudly.

Jaehyun chokes on a laugh. "Ain't that right. Now, did I hear something about short ribs?"

Woonhak lights up as if he's suddenly got the news they won a daesang. "Yes! Oh my God, they better not have eaten all of it yet or I'll show them what real revenge is. Come on, come on!"

Woonhak tugs at Jaehyun's sleeve, dragging him off the bed but staying mindful of Jaehyun's burn on his hand. It's a tiny gesture, but it shows just how thoughtful he is. Sure, deep conversations are rare and they mostly show their love by relentlessly teasing, but moments like these show just how deep their friendship actually goes. Jaehyun knows that his past will never touch him as long as he's around the members, just as he won't ever let them get hurt from whatever ghosts might be trailing them too. They have each others' backs, and this just shows it again. He lets himself be dragged off, all thoughts of pain and fear forgotten as the smell of delicious, freshly cooked meat wafts from the hallway. He and Woonhak share a glance, eagerly grinning. It's Jaehyun who throws open the door to the other dorm.

"Did anyone say leftover meat?!"

Chapter Text

"Oh please, how difficult could it have been for you? You didn't have a troublesome time in the military," Namjoon argues. "You have no idea how hard it could truly get out there, because you were bunking with Jungkook and having the time of your life!"

The look of hurt on Jimin's face makes Namjoon freeze, his brain short circuiting. The flash of betrayal in his boyfriend's eyes is something he's never seen before, and immediately guilt slams into him and makes him stumble over his words.

"Wait, that's not what I meant-"

He reaches out a hand, but Jimin's already turning away, stepping backwards and shaking his head. He rushes out of the room, leaving Namjoon alone with the words hanging heavily in the air.

He knows Jimin didn't have an easy time. Of course, he knows that. God, what was he thinking? He'd just meant he hadn't had to go through that hell alone, but he knows Jimin had the same awful experiences he did. He's just been jealous, because- because-

"I just meant that I was all alone…"

Namjoon looks at the open doorway, at a loss of what to do now. Jimin had put his trust in him to tell him about the trauma he went through, and he'd repaid that trust by throwing it in his face that his trauma was invalid. Shit, how's he going to make this right again?

Jimin can't believe this. The covers of his bed can't protect him from the daggers cracking his heart open, but still he tries, burying himself deep in his blanket and sobbing against the already damp fabric. He thought Namjoon would be the one to understand, that he had nothing to fear from the one he loved the most.

But he was wrong. He'd told Namjoon about the glares and taunts from his peers, baring his soul for his boyfriend in a way that he rarely did. He's always the happy one, the playful and giggly and friendly one. Namjoon is his rock. He thought he could finally let go for once, let the waves inside of him crash against the rock and calm down.

But Namjoon had broken the rock and let the flood take everything with it, that trust now in shambles.

His heart bled, his memories and Namjoon's words mixing into a hurtful melody that cut through him and only got the worse the more it played. His bed couldn't protect him from it. Nothing could. He'd bared his heart, and now it was broken.

Namjoon didn't believe him. He hadn't listened. He didn't care.

The military, for all its stiff ceremony and etiquette, should have been a place of order and single-minded training. The time they'd spent there should have been hard, but only physically, the strain and the power used in the missions all that mattered. For Jimin, things had been worse than that. He was a dancer through and through, so the physical aspect was actually the easier part. What really hurt him, was his assigned team.

Everybody had thought he was more frail than others, simply because of his smaller build. They'd also made very clear that being an idol was embarrassing, and that Jimin was better off staying on the side lines so the 'real men' could do their work. They hadn't treated Jungkook the same way. Their muscly maknae with his tattoos and iron resolve had been unshakeable, and everyone had respected him from the moment they'd set foot in the training hall. Apparently, their status of fame meant very different things to the men around them.

And it hadn't stopped there. Their superiors lashed out more often against Jimin when he failed to do something. He'd get harsher words, harsher hits, harsher everything. Every time he made a mistake, it was the end of the world. Yes, the military worked on protocol and order, but there had clearly been an exception for Jimin. It had been suffocating. They did everything to sniff out his light, to break him until he was just a hollow shell of a person.

They had almost succeeded with it too, hadn't it been for Jungkook's gentle support and one single thought:

Namjoon was waiting for him.

A knock on the door breaks Jimin out of his despair, but instead of answering it, he only hides himself deeper into his pillow, willing the person on the other side to go away.

"Jiminnie? Please, can we talk?"

They'd been talking before. Jimin knows now how that'll end. He refuses to let Namjoon hurt him even further.

"Go away."

It's silent for a beat and Jimin's heart only breaks more at the thought that Namjoon has given up so easily. Is Jimin not worth fighting for? Does he really care that little that his words have such an impact on another person?

"Jiminnie, I… I'm sorry. Please, will you let me in? I need to apologize to your face. I know I… hurt you. I'm so sorry."

Jimin lifts his head slowly, blinking at the door through his blurry vision.

"For what?" he pushes, needing Namjoon to say it.

"I was too careless with my words," comes Namjoon's instant reply. "I said something to you I should have never said. I know your time there was just as awful as mine for different reasons. Please… can I come in?"

Jimin sniffs, wiping at his eyes, tiny pieces of his heart slowly returning to their rightful place.

"Okay."

The door creaks open and Namjoon shuffles in, his hair a mess, like he'd been pulling on it again. Jimin's chest squeezes at the thought. He'd hoped Namjoon would have lost that tick after the military.

"Hey, baby…" Namjoon steps inside, his head hanging low and his eyes unsure. He looks like a lamb going to the slaughter, ready for Jimin to scream at him just like he no doubt believes he deserves. Just seeing him like that has Jimin feeling better already. Not because he wants to see Namjoon in pain, but because it means that he's genuinely sorry. He's hurting just as much as Jimin.

"I'm so sorry for what I said," Namjoon repeats, approaching the bed carefully. "I should have never played down your experiences like that. I heard you and I care. I don't really believe you had it easy, I promise. It was actually really brave of you to confide in me and I… I ruined that."

"Why?" Jimin asks, sitting up properly. He's usually quite forgiving, but he just can't wrap his head around this. Namjoon has always been such a well-spoken, thoughtful guy. What would push him to say such awful things?

"I…" Namjoon falters. Jimin doesn't help him out. It's not like he needs the older to beg for forgiveness, but he just needs to understand. He doesn't want excuses or endless apologies. He wants the truth.

"I'm jealous."

Jimin blinks at that, cocking his head. "What? Why would you ever be jealous of what I told you about?"

Namjoon looks far too small as he's standing in the middle of the room, eyes stuck on his feet.

"I'm jealous that you had Kookie. I'm jealous, because… I didn't have anyone. You had someone patching you up and reminding you of life outside, while I- Every time I got hurt, there was no one to help me."

To Jimin's horror, Namjoon sniffs and his eyes fill with tears. The dancer sits up straighter, opening his arms before he can second-guess himself.

"Oh, Joonie, please don't cry. Come here, baby."

Namjoon rushes forward and crashes against Jimin with a sob, hugging him closely.

"I was so alone," the older cries brokenly. "All that time, I was stuck with my own mind while they dug at my confidence and made me feel worthless, and I had no one to tell me I wasn't. It was so hard to keep believing in myself. I know it's stupid and I'm so selfish for even thinking it because you were just as miserable, but I- I-"

"You didn't have anyone to fall back on. I'm so sorry about that, baby, I should have been there." Jimin rubs Namjoon's back, heart breaking for a totally different reason now. He's barely seen Namjoon this low and it hurts him. He wishes he could take all that pain away.

"No," Namjoon shakes his head, pulling a little out of the hug so he can look Jimin in the eyes. "No, you shouldn't apologize. I need to apologize. I'm sorry I ever invalidated you like that, I don't- I swear I don't really think that. I'm so sorry I hurt you."

Jimin nods, his hands coming up to cradle the older's face between his hands. He wipes away the tears with the pads of his thumbs.

"I forgive you, I understand now. I'm sorry too, for not having been there to help you. I'm so glad you came back to me even though it was so hard. I'm so glad you survived."

Namjoon's eyes remain shiny, but at least the tears stop. He leans into the touch of Jimin's palm. "I'm glad you came back to me too. I held out so that I could see you again, and I just know that was worth it. I love you so much, Jiminnie."

Jimin smiles, leaning forward and resting their foreheads together. "We're going to heal from this, Joonie. I promise you that. I love you too. So, so much."

And as he goes in for the kiss, he knows it with his entire heart that it's true. They're going to heal from this, because not only did they survive, but they made it out together. They are going to be fine.

Chapter Text

Yunjin rolled her eyes, pressing the button to turn on the speakers in the recording booth without a care for the producer sitting behind the panel.

"Come on, Unnie, is that the best you got? You're putting way too much vibrato in the whole thing and the end was just wobbly. If you go on like this, everyone will be right when they say you can't sing anymore, you know."

The producer sent her a disgruntled look, but Yunjin didn't care, simply scooting back with her chair and crossing her arms.

"Right…" the producer said, "Again, please."

Behind the tiny window, Sakura nodded, a sulky expression on her face. Yunjin barely resisted rolling her eyes again. That should be the oldest of the group? What an example she was setting there. They were all being worked to the bone, but did they see Yunjin complain about it even once? Of course not. The company's critique of them might have been harsh after their recent performances—failures—but that was honestly deserved. They did have to work harder than ever to re-earn their popularity and fans. It was their own fault they were losing them in the first place.

After another painfully bad rendition of the lines from Sakura, Yunjin leaned forward once more, hand already on the button before she was fully rolled to the desk.

"Oh my God, Unnie, again. We can't leave this place until you finally stop messing around."

Yunjin wanted nothing more than to leave. Already, her head was spinning with the things she still had to do: work on her songs, help with the production of the album, get in her personal two hours of training a day, meet with her vocal couch, attend their group practice, go to vocal practice again-

"I'm trying, Jinnie," Sakura said, sounding exhausted. Well, she certainly wasn't the only one.

Yunjin sighed. "Then try harder." She let go of the microphone and leaned back again, closing her eyes as a budding headache was starting up behind her eyelids.

She didn't see the shiny gleam in Sakura's eyes.

With a bit too much force, Yunjin threw the refrigerator closed, properly pissed off now. Why had nobody thought to do the grocery shopping? She knew for a fact that both Eunchae and Kazuha had had a free afternoon today, so what had they done all day? Lounge around? Waste time while the others were slaving away at the company?

The murderous glare she sent the door didn't do anything, so she yanked the thing open again, purposely reaching for the last of the stupid caprisons Eunchae insisted on having in their dorm, as well as grabbing the leftovers of last night's dinner that Kazuha claimed was her favorite. If they were so lazy that they couldn't even get some fresh groceries, then she also didn't have to take their needs into account anymore. Let them whine about their stupid food, she needed it because she was actually working hard..

That night, Yunjin ignored the questions from their maknaes about who grabbed their favorite things, silently staring at her phone with her headphones on. The other two didn't know anything of course, so the younger girls were left pouting, stupidly sulking about their loss. It further proved to Yunjin that no one knew how to stay serious anymore. She was reviewing their practice from today, but what were they doing? Mourning the loss of some juice and half a plate of spicy takeout?

She sped the video forward, wincing when she saw where she'd misstepped and replaying that part. Aish, she really needed to put in more practice. Her best just wasn't enough yet, and she'd read the comments: most people thought she was the only one carrying the team. That expectation alone put so much pressure on her that almost every moment felt like it would flatten her against the earth, sending ice shards at her lungs and keeping her mind in a chokehold. She couldn't bear to disappoint, which was why she knew she had to work twice as hard to meet those expectations. If the team really depended on her to keep afloat, then she'd carry them a thousand times over.

Maybe she could sneak out later and do some more practice. Maybe then she'd finally become good enough.

Without the members noticing, she snuck out of the dorm that night. A little bit of sleep was an easy price to pay for what she needed to do.

Meetings tended to draw on forever and ever already, but sometimes her members only made it worse. Yunjin had half a mind not to slide down in her chair until she was under the table, knowing that would probably not go over well for their manager. But she really, really wanted to escape this place already.

"So, what you're saying is that we have to do another collaboration at the end of the month? That's when we'll be in the middle of preparation for award season and we won't have time to do any extra practice-"

"Rest assured, Chaewon-ssi, me and the management team have worked day and night to fit this into the schedule. It'll be a tight fit and we're going to need to put our all into it, but this collaboration will surely be the catalyst to bring the group back to its previous ranking. It's too good an opportunity to pass up."

"And by that you mean we have to put our all into it-"

"Yes, but that's just a small expense for a big reward, don't you think?"

"But sir, I don't think you understand just how much time we already spend working-"

Yunjin couldn't hold back anymore, shooting her eyes to the ceiling for a second before she officially lost her patience. As calmly as she could, she added her own two scents to the discussion.

"Come on, Unnie, this project is important. What's a little extra work?"

"It's not just a little extra work," Chaewon argued, frowning. This collaboration will require at least five separate meetings, two weeks of practice and fine tuning and another week for recording, and then I'm not even mentioning the photoshoot or the video footage we have to shoot for it."

Yunjin had to admit her heart sank a bit with every thing Chaewon mentioned, knowing just how awful and exhausting it was gonna be, but she also saw the bigger picture. Something that Chaewon was clearly failing to do.

She shrugged, trying to seem indifferent. "So? 'S not like we haven't done it before. We can do this, Unnie."

"But I'm saying that we shouldn't have to. We'll burn ourselves out at this rate and then we will only dig our graves deeper with the award shows right after."

"So you're saying you want to throw in the towel? Give all of our critics the satisfaction of losing our fame just because you're getting a little tired?"

"No," Chaewon said through gritted teeth, "that's not what I'm saying. I'm just trying to look out for the team and I know this won't end up helping us in the long run."

"Are you though?" Yunjin huffed, crossing her arms. "Are you really looking out for the team or are you just looking out for yourself? We need this collab, Unnie. It can be our make or break."

Yunjin probably imagined the little bit of hurt that flashed through Chaewon's expression, because all she was saying was the truth. Looking out for the team would mean doing things even if they were difficult. It meant putting everything aside except work, pushing through and trying to get back on top even if faith in them was waning at the moment. It meant sacrificing sleep, sacrificing rest, sacrificing their lives for their success.

Yunjin thought that their leader knew that, but clearly she'd been wrong.

"Some kind of leader you are," she scoffed, pushing her chair away from the conference table. She turned to their manager. "Please send the new schedule to me so I can see where to fit in my individual practice. If you don't need me anymore, sir, I'll have to get going now."

And before anyone could protest, she stepped out of the room, exhaling deeply to try and calm herself down. None of the others were taking things seriously anymore. Maybe they thought they could get away with half-assing things and taking the easy way, but Yunjin wasn't like that. She knew she didn't have the luxury to take it easy.

And if she was the only one who saw that, then so be it.

It was past four in the morning when Yunjin finally managed to drag herself back to the dorms, collapsing on her bed with her practice clothes still on. She was bone-tired, too tired to brush her teeth or change. She barely made it to her pillow before she fell asleep on top of her blanket, her mind finally blacking out.

The next day, her mood was at an all-time low. All day, she'd been snippy, picking unnecessary fights and being the most awful kind of member even she wouldn't like to be around. Her members were visibly upset with every word that came out of her mouth, but she just couldn't stop. Every little hair out of place irritated her. Everything was too loud. Everyone was too annoying.

She tried to reign it in, she really did, but after hours of dance practice and a full day of other difficult schedules still ahead, her irritation had already grown too big for her to contain.

"For the love of- Eunchae! Your position's wrong again! How many times do we have to tell you to stand at number five and not between four and five? Because of you, the whole formation looks wrong!"

"I'm trying, Unnie, but the steps are so fast-"

"Then try harder."

Eunchae sent her a death glare, one that contrasted so sharply with her usual awkward smiles when she made a mistake that it only made Yunjin angrier. She whipped around to face Kazuha instead.

"And you- How many times do we have to say that your move is too choppy? Aren't you supposed to be the most fluid? What is wrong with you today?"

Kazuha frowned, rubbing her arm. "I'm just a little tired, that's all…"

Yunjin scoffed. "Aren't we all? That's no excuse."

"Yunjin…" Sakura stepped forward, a concerned look on her face. Yunjin whirled on her.

"What? Isn't it true? We're all tired, but those two think they can just slack off. Don't you all get it? This is why everyone's looking down on us! If you keep acting like this, everyone will think our group's one big joke!"

"Yunjin!" Chaewon exclaimed, marching forward with a stormy look on her face. "That's enough. I think we all need a cool down. Everyone, take five."

Yunjin scoffed again, throwing her hands up. "Sure! Take another break! That's all you guys are good at these days!" She stomped towards her bag, grasping the straps and slinging it over her shoulder. "I'm going to practice on my own, because someone has to be the professional here. Call me when you are all ready to actually work again."

And with that, she made her way out of the practice room, huffing and puffing to herself as the anger boiled in her stomach.

The others just didn't understand. They didn't feel the pressure, they didn't realize what was at stake.

Everything Yunjin worked so hard for—she refused to give it up. Even if she was the only one who held onto it, she would, and they'd have to pry it from her cold dead hands before she ever gave it up.

With a cry, she slammed the door to her personal studio closed, throwing her bag against the wall and watching its contents spill out across the floor. She got no satisfaction at the way her water bottle sluggishly rolled over the wood, so she gave it an extra kick, sending it spinning under her desk. Even the way the water sloshed inside of the plastic irritated her. She turned to the small mirror on the wall, getting into position as she pressed her lips tight. This would have to do for now. If all she could do was practice, then that's what she would do. It was all she was good for anyway.

The message came unexpectedly. She thought the others would want to avoid her with how she'd blown up at them, that they would be angry and that she would have to apologize eventually when she'd finally survived all the extra projects and deadlines and shows they needed to practice for.

But then Eunchae had sent her a text, asking if she could come to the upper floor cafeteria because they wanted to talk things out. Yunjin didn't even hesitate; she grabbed her keys, locked her studio and went to the elevator. To tell the truth, she was getting sick and tired of always berating everyone. She didn't want to play the villain every time or be the one to corral the girls into line and remind them of all they could lose. She wasn't the leader and she wasn't their manager either. She just… didn't know what to do anymore.

The elevator doors slid open and she sighed, already going over how she was going to apologize to the girls.

"Sorry I was such an ass. I understand if you are sick of me and never want to see me again. Please forgive me?" Or something like that.

A sudden push against her back made her yelp as she stumbled forward into the elevator, barely able to catch her balance against the railing. She turned around, shocked to find all the others standing there.

"This is for your own good, Unnie," Eunchae said in an empty voice, her face devoid of emotion. She was pressing the button to close to the doors and Yunjin only realized a second too late that she was doing it with the key some of the janitors had to lock the elevator in place and lock the doors. Panic flared up inside of her, but before she could get out more than a "No-!", the doors were already closing and the others slowly disappeared from view.

But, just as the doors went to close, two girls stumbled inside. Chaewon and Kazuha. They fell to the floor, yelping pitifully. And then the doors closed, locking them in with no way out.

Yunjin watched the other two, stunned in place by the stupidest decision they must have ever made.

"The hell-" She blurted, anger rising within her once again as she fully realized what they had done to her. They'd locked her in, and then those two had thrown themselves into the cursed prison only to—what? Give her the talk? Chew her out? Make sure she wouldn't be able to run away as they finally told her they had enough?

"What kind of fucked up plan is this?!" she cursed, swinging her fist against the mirrored wall. The bang it created echoed through the tiny box, perfectly showcasing their dire predicament. Kazuha and Chaewon sheepishly pushed themselves to their feet, watching Yunjin with wide eyes.

"Uh, we- we wanted to confront you about your behaviour lately," Chaewon said, sounding like she could barely work up the nerve to speak. "It's gone too far."

"And this is how you wanna do it?" Yunjin asks incredulously. "I would have come to the cafeteria!" She banged her fist on the wall again. "I was on my way already, so why- Why would you lock me up like this?!"

Another hit, the banging rattling the walls and all the bones in her arm with the force. She welcomed the sting in her fist, needing it to distract from the way the walls seemed to be closing in on her.

"Are you really that desperate- that- that spineless that you thought you had to lock me in here like some kind of animal?! Do you think I'd run if you would try to talk to me?!"

Neither of the girls could get a single word in as she ranted, her lungs constricting, her words getting higher and thinner.

"Do you think I like being mean to you? Do you think I enjoy criticizing everyone? Of course I don't! You know me longer than this! You know me! So WHY would you think this is the only way-!"

She swung her fist against the glass, no longer even looking at the girls in front of her as her vision started blurring. She barely registered the way something splintered underneath her hand, but she heard the sound of glass raining down and she stopped, breathing hard. Slowly, she looked to the side, where a piece of the mirror had shattered around her fist, a spiderweb of cracks flowing from the point of contact. Little trails of red started dripping down and she sucked in a breath, only to find that no air entered her lungs.

"I- I- I'm not- This isn't me-"

"Yunjin, it's okay-"

"No, no, I'm not- I didn't mean to say all those things, I- I'm sorry, I've been awful-"

The tears flowed over at the same moment as two sets of arms wound around her, holding her close. Everything was too overwhelming and she sagged in their hold, her crying taking all her left-over energy and draining her completely. Hitched sobs broke free from her as she struggled to breath.

"Jin-ah, I need you to calm down. We're not mad, okay? Baby, you need to breathe."

Yunjin shook her head, burying herself against whoever's shoulder she was leaning on and letting out a sob. The pain in her hand was just as bad as the pain in her heart and head, and she didn't know what to feel anymore.

"I'm sorry," she cried, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry-"

"Shhh, Unnie. It's okay. Just let it out."

Someone was rubbing her back, and it was nice. It distracted her from the pain and made her even more boneless, fully leaning against the arms holding her as her sobs quieted down. She was so, so tired. She felt like she could sleep for an eternity.

She didn't, and instead pushed herself away from the hug with great effort so she could properly look at the girls in front of her. It was as if she was seeing them for the first time in months, the veil of frustration peeling back only to show a far worse reality.

Kazuha had bruises. Clearly visible along her arms and collarbone, the spots showed just where she'd kept hitting the ground as she misstepped during their most difficult moves.

Chaewon was pale, a sickly sheen across her skin while dark circles fell under sunken eyes. She looked sick. Oh, God, she was sick.

And Yunjin hadn't noticed any of that in the days before. She hadn't really looked at any of them, too wrapped up in her own stress and the pressure put on her that she'd forgotten to look out for the people behind the performers.

"Unnie…" She said slowly, her voice tiny from crying. "Are you sick?"

"I'm fine," Chaewon quickly reassured her, which only made Yunjin's frown deepen.

"And 'zuha, you- are you hurt? How did that happen?"

Kazuha gave her a small, wry smile.

"It's nothing, Unnie, I promise. You look far worse than me."

That earned her a surprised snort and Yunjin brought her hands up to wipe at her eyes. She could believe that, yeah. She must look horrible right about now.

"I'm… sorry," she repeated once again, just because she needed her apology to reach them. "I've been an asshole this past week and I should have realized you were all pushing yourselves too far too. I never want you to hurt yourselves over work like this."

Chaewon smiled sadly, pushing a stray strand of hair behind Yunjin's ear. "And we don't want you to push yourself like you've been doing either. That's why I was so adamant during the meeting yesterday. Don't you think I know how important that project was? But the sad truth is: we just can't take on more work. We're already burning ourselves out at the rate we're going and if we take on more I… I think we would really break something irreparable."

She gave a quick glance at the mirror shards littered around them. Yunjin winced, but Chaewon wasn't done talking yet.

"I mean, how can I ever call myself a good leader if I allow our group to hate each other and slowly suffocate under the guise of hard work? It's not healthy, Jin-ah, and I can't let the company do this anymore."

Yunjin felt another round of tears burning behind her eyes, but she held them back, nodding. She could see it now. Yesterday, she'd been so focussed on trying to do what the company wanted and what the world seemed to want, that she completely put their group aside.

"I'm sorry for calling you a bad leader," she confessed quietly. "You're not. I know you're not. I'm really sorry."

Chaewon's smile turned a little softer. "I forgive you. Thank you for the apology, though. I'm not going to lie that I did feel bad about it after the meeting, but I understand why you were upset."

"Still, that doesn't excuse my words-"

"No, it doesn't, but that's why I forgive you. It wasn't okay, but I understand. I'm not mad at you anymore."

"Am I the only one a bit peeved by the fact that Eunchae's plan actually worked?" Kazuha mumbled, casting a glance at the door. "We've done exactly as she wanted."

"Well… not exactly." They all looked down at the shards now, and shame rose up Yunjin.

"I'll clean it up," she said. Chaewon shook her head immediately.

"No, you won't. I don't want you to get hurt even further. We're going to go to the nurse and get you checked out and we'll call the janitors to do this with their tools instead. We'll just tell them I hit my phone too hard against the mirror or something."

"Your phone is like a brick sometimes," Kazuha agreed as she nodded sagely. "I bet you could actually do this with it."

"Well, speaking about my phone-" Chaewon pulled it out and sent off a text. "They better let us out now before we get in real trouble with the company for hijacking one of the elevators. They're already not going to be happy with me if they see the damage, but stealing will probably make them madder…"

Kazuha let out a small giggle, which had Yunjin involuntarily quirk up her lips too. Within seconds after Chaewon's text, the door indeed slid open to reveal Eunchae and Sakura, both looking inside the elevator expectantly. What a sight they must make, sitting on the floor surrounded by broken mirror shards and tiny specks of blood, the tear tracks on Yunjin's face fully completing the miserable picture.

The other two deserved just as much an apology for Yunjin's behavior, but somehow those words weren't the first to come out.

"Manchae, if I ever catch you, you're dead-"

Eunchae let out a loud squeal as Yunjin suddenly jumped up, rushing after her as the younger immediately fled the scene. Yunjin was too tired to run, but she wasn't planning on actually catching the girl anyway. She was far too relieved to have this big weight off her chest now, and as she came to a stand still next to Sakura and they locked eyes, she could actually muster up a tiny smile.

"I'm sorry for my grumpiness, Unnie. It wasn't fair to you or the others, and I promise I was mostly just saying stuff to get a reaction. I was… desperate. Will you forgive me?"

Sakura seemed to think for a moment. "Maybe if you manage to wrangle Eunchae into her own bed tonight, I will."

Yunjin's eyes widened. "What?"

Sakura waved her hand idly. "She's been sleeping badly again so she keeps sneaking into my room in the middle of the night. I love the girl, but my bed's definitely not big enough for two. If you get her back into her own room and into her own bed, I will forget all the hurtful things you said this entire week."

The tension bled from Yunjin's shoulders and she nodded, now determined. This was something she could do.

"Thank you, Unnie. Yah, Manchae! Come back here already!"

She set in the chase.