Chapter Text
It wasn’t his choice.
It was his life.
It was his actions.
It wasn’t expected.
Because who would tell the number one crime lord that his punishment was to restart life as a Walmart owner in the most famous country of all?
Because what kind of punishment was that?
Woojin didn’t realize what he was in for until he was already far too deep in it.
Being a Walmart owner wasn’t the problem. It wasn’t work he was used to, doing paperwork and managing his store, but it was alright. He got used to it quickly. Soon it became mindless for him- he would play some music in the peace of his apartment, take a stack of papers, and start to fill them out.
Stress relief at the finest.
Until he came.
Woojin had thought he was a normal customer, just a young man trying to buy a couple of rubber ducks(why ducks?) until he saw the stranger’s credit card.
It was black.
Black, shining black of the darkest degree.
That could only mean one thing. This stranger was part of the highest division of government officials in the country. But this man was so young, around Woojin’s age. Even if he was older than Woojin, he could only be 25. Most likely younger.
What was he doing with them?
They were Noir, and they dealt with international services.
Living in A, the most prominent and powerful country out of the alphabet alliance meant many, many people wanted to stay there, to live there, and hope for some of the famed wealth all of A’s citizens supposedly had.
Woojin didn’t know much of his previous life, but he faintly remembered that he had lived in Z, the second most powerful country in the world, controlled by crime. He had been one of them, he had caused destruction and pain to innocent, innocent people whose only crime was being in the wrong place at the wrong time. He had tortured the ones who didn’t listen, who didn’t obey, who wanted out. He was a terrible human being, he was a monster.
Was.
Woojin tried not to remember too much of his past life. He tried not to remiscince about his crimes, but it was hard. Sometimes he saw a particularly angelic scene, say perhaps a mother and her son, or even a couple of teenagers on a group outing. People just enjoying life. Those days, when he went home, he went straight to the bed, trying not to think about the broken memories in his head, like glass shards cutting his mind from the inside out.
International Services meant that you dealt with all kinds of people, good and bad, from all over the alliance. It meant you were known by all 26 countries, that you were on their list.
It meant you had to be careful.
Because you didn’t know who you made an enemy of, you didn’t know who was standing behind you with a gun pointing directly to your head.
You didn’t know who to trust.
But you had power.
Unimaginable power.
Noir was made up of only a few people, the rest working in the lower branches of the government. The higher up you were, the blacker your cards. The blacker your soul.
This man had the unmistakable shine to his card, the one that all Noir members had.
Relatives of Noir were given purple cards.
Not Noir cards.
When the man swiped, an easy smile on his face as he handed the rubber ducks to Woojin (why rubber ducks? Just why?), a list of information popped up on the screen. The picture matched exactly with the man. There was even a code name- something given only to Noir members- CB97. He hadn’t stolen it. It was his.
It showed an age: 21.
Woojin was 22. This man was just barely an adult. Why the heck was he in Noir? How the heck was he in Noir?
The guy didn’t even look like a member of the government, not even of the lowest ranks. They all usually dressed formal, 24/7, dress shirts, heels, slacks, formal dresses, with crisp make-up and hair, usually black.
Mr.CB97 was dressed in black, but instead of crisp suits and skirts, he was dressed in cargo pants and a simple T-shirt. He was wearing worn out sneakers on his feet, and his hair, his hair was a complete mess. It was a tangle of uncontrollable bleached curls, nothing like the straightened, slicked back hair that Woojin was used to.
Used to?
Why was Woojin used to this? Government officials never came to Walmart- they didn’t need to. They had servants and online shopping. Only the middle and lower class actually shopped at convenience stores, and yet, Woojin had known that the prissy government officials were actually prissy government officials.
What had he been doing in his previous life?
Woojin had zoned out while he thought, one hand holding the rubber ducks and the other holding the card. He must have been a sight.
CB97 looked at him curiously.
“Are you okay?” He asked, and there was something unusual about the way he talked (but government officials didn’t talk), an accent carefully buried under crisp Enlightened. It sounded vaguely Spartan, as if he had been brought up in S and then just recently moved to A.
Which just added to Woojin’s confusions.
But CB97 was waiting patiently for his rubber ducks, so Woojin scanned the bag quickly, clearing his throat and handing them back to him.
CB97 smiled widely, and thanked him, (they didn’t smile or thank people). Woojin nodded and gave a vague sound of thanks, watching him leave.
He walked like a normal government official, hand tensed at one of the many pockets of his pants, most likely holding some type of weapon (how did Woojin know this?).
Woojin lost sight of him after a few minutes, CB97 turning a corner at the end of the street.
Woojin dropped his head against the desk, wondering if that was all a dream until the next customer cleared her throat cautiously, holding her bag of pear out to him, as well as her card. It was normal.
Woojin smiled at her, making small talk with the rest of his customers. He went home and ran straight to his bed. He tossed and turned, sleeping a fitful sleep.
He dreamed once again of Z, shards of memories swarming his brain, pieces coming together and shattering apart before he got to see what they formed.
He tossed and turned all night, barely getting an hour of sleep. Funny. Even on his worst days, he always got at least three hours. What was happening to him?
Woojin woke up an hour late, jumping into the shouwer and jumping back out in a record time of two minutes, rushing to Walmart without eating breakfast or combing his hair.
His wet hair flopped on his face as he ran to the bus stop, reaching there just in time as the bus pulled in. People looked at him curiously, some mildly worried as he ran in, out of breath and looking like a mess.
He ignored them, finding an empty seat and plopping down, trying to flatten down his hair and straighten out his clothes. He took out his phone and checked his face, wincing when he saw the dark circles under his eyes. He pulled out the spare makeup bag in his backpack, reaching in for his concealer. He managed to cover most of the blemishes on his face and partially comb his hair.
When the bus pulled into the bus stop, Woojin was one of the first to leave, jumping the last few steps and tumbling onto the streets. Not minding the curious looks of the passersby nearby,the pulled out his phone, sprinting from the bus stop to the store, checking the time. It was 6:57. Walmart opened in three minutes. He ran faster.
When Woojin arrived, all his employees were already at their stations. They looked at him worriedly, no doubt wondering why he rushed in an hour late with messy hair and a harried expression on his face.
He ignored them as he walked to the counter, wanting nothing more than to go to his desk, comb his hair, drink his nonexistent coffee, and finish getting through the day.
Minho walked up to him, slamming his cup of coffee down on the counter.
“Why are you late?”
What was this, an interrogation?
Woojin ignored him, reaching for his coffee, but Minho snatched it away, keeping it from his reach. Woojin hissed at him, trying again to get to it.
“You aren’t getting this until you tell me what happened.” Minho said, stealing a chair from a nearby table and plopping down on it. Woojin rolled his eyes. “Nothing happened. I just didn’t get a lot of sleep last night. That’s it.”
Minho scoffed. “Do you really expect me to believe that?”
Woojin looked at him, trying to act innocent. “Yes?” Minho sighed, taking pity on him and sliding him his coffee. “Spill. Now.”
Woojin hummed, gratefully taking a sip of the drink and letting it seep through his veins. Minho was one of his only friends, and the one he trusted the most.
When Woojin arrived at A, newley reincarnated (?), Minho was one of the first people he met. Back then, he was just a lonely kid on the streets, dancing for whatever amount of money he could get, trying to stay alive.
When Woojin first saw Minho, he was entranced. He didn’t have any memories, but for some reason, Woojin felt like he had met him before, somewhere. He had walked up to him to watch his performance, giving whatever amount of money he had on him.
This continued for days, until Minho finally confronted him, cornering him and asking why he was giving him so much money.
There was a light in Minho’s eyes that day. A furious, scared one. He was like a stray cat, hissing whenever someone got too close.
Woojin had told him he didn’t know why he had given so much money, just that he felt Minho should have been given a second chance in life. Minho didn’t think much of the unusual words, just bowed down in thanks, grateful.
Woojin didn’t sleep that night.
Minho slowly became famous on the streets, earning more and more money, enough to finally separate from his parents. He worked in the Walmart that Woojin owned.
They began to form a close bond, both attracted to each other in ways they didn’t know how.
It wasn’t romance. It was love. A familiar type of love that both of them had forgotten existed. A familial, brotherly type of love.
They took care of each other for a few years. Minho had moved into Woojin’s apartment, gotten another job at some business, and was finally earning stable money.
He never questioned why Minho was on the street, leaving it to Minho to tell him himself. It was something that lingered at the forefront of his mind, something that he thought about constantly. But it wasn’t his place to ask.
Eventually Minho trusted him enough to tell him.
His parents had kicked him out when he told them all he wanted to do was dance. His parents had scorned him for taking up such a “feminine” job. They gave him a few hundred dollars and kicked him out of the city. He used that money to catch a train out of Apple, all the way to Atlantis, almost 100 miles away. When he arrived at Atlantis, he took up busking. Eventually he earned enough money to take another train, this time to Artemis, where he was now.
Minho was homeless for a year, busking being his only job. It wasn’t a proper job, he could never afford a proper meal, let alone a house.
That’s when he met Woojin.
Confused, rich, businessman Woojin.
Woojin, who didn’t take pity on Minho, instead saw the potential and nerve of Minho and gave him a roof.
They lived together in Woojin’s apartment for three years. Minho still busked, but he applied for various jobs in the city. Eventually he found a job at a flower shop that was run by a kind woman who desperately needed workers. Hundreds of people had turned MInho away because he had no education higher than a degree in high school.
This woman, however, was desperate. No one wanted to work in her shop since the incident, since the break in had robbed her of both her money and her family. Ms. Lee Jieun was the owner of IU, one of the two flower shops in the city of Artemis.
The other flower shop, Eclipse was run by a relatively young couple, Yongsun (Who goes by Solar), and Moonbyul. They had an interesting concept, and a fascinating love story, which is why they were so famous in the city.
There was always a rivalry between the two, although much of it was one-sided. Eclipse always wanted more, more, and more. They weren’t happy with what they had already. It was rumored that they were the ones who caused the break in at IU, but there was no concrete proof. Rumors were spread, saying that the shop was haunted, unsafe, and such. Business fell rapidly, as well as workers, who didn’t want anything to do with Jieun after.
When she saw Minho walk in, application in hand, she was so relieved that she nearly accepted him on the spot. However, Jieun still had to go through with the interview, just to make sure she wasn’t hiring some kind of spy or anyone dangerous. That had happened before. It’s not recommended.
But the interview had gone wonderfully. Minho had this charm to him,the charisma that attracted people.
She asked him about his life, about his dreams, and about his skills. He had been wonderfully honest, and his resume was extremely well written and clear. SHe wondered why he was here, when so many other jobs had places open.
“Have you had a job before?” Jieun asked, not bothering to take notes. This man was already a keeper. The interview was just formalities.
Minho flushed slightly, wondering if this would affect her answer. “Um, no. I’ve actually applied to many jobs around here, but I haven’t gotten hired to any of them.”
Jieun raised a brow. “And why is that?”
Minho cleared his throat, wondering where this was going. “They turned me away when I told them I only had basic high school education.”
Jieun scoffed. “Well they just lost one hell of a chance.”
Minho blinked. Did she really just say that? Was he finally getting hired?
Smirking, Jieun tossed her clipboard over her shoulder. It clattered to the ground as she leaned forward. “You’re hired.”
Minho broke into a smile that threatened to split his face in half. “R-Really? You’ll take me?”
Jieun nodded. “You’re the only worker I’ve got so far, besides me. No one wants to work here, and you’ve got charisma. I need that around here, to attract customers. Now, let’s talk money.”
Minho nodded dumbly, ready to accept whatever amount of money she gave him.
“So we’ll start from minimum wage, since I don’t have that much money right now. But, the more money we earn, the more money you earn. So try not to scare away those customers, kay?”
Minho nodded again, bowing down low in thanks.
Jieun just laughed, patting his head. “You’re welcome, kid. You start tomorrow. 6am, sharp. You get off at 6pm. Breaks are every three hours. Lunch is from 12 to 1. $7 an hour, including breaks and lunch. So if you follow those hours than you’ll get $84 a day. That okay with you?”
Minho’s jaw dropped. $84 a day was a lot, especially for someone running low on money.
Jieun smiled knowingly and sent him off. “See you tomorrow!” She said cheerfully. Minho bowed again, responding just as brightly.
With Minho at the shop, customers started to come by once again, charmed by his charismatic qualities, as well as his “dashing good looks”. Customers were mostly fangirls who swarmed the shop to stare at the “hot flower shop worker”, buying flowers to make him happy.
And the more customers, the more money.
Minho eventually paid Woojin back, moving out of his apartment into Minho’s own tiny one.
Minho still busks from time to time, but mainly works at IU, taking over the shop when Jieun (She had forced him into calling her that, saying that anything else made her feel old) went on her random traveling trips with her friends.
And that’s where they’re at now.
Woojin glared at him over his coffee, trying (and failing) to look threatening and hopefully get out of telling Minho exactly what happened.
It didn’t work.
So Woojin sighed, put down his cup and started to talk.
“I’ve told you about my previous life, right?” Minho nodded, looking down. It wasn’t a taboo topic for them, but they rarely talked about the circumstances that led Woojin to be where he is today.
“I’ve told you about Noir.” Minho’s eyes darkened. Noir was a touchy subject for him. For some reason, a strong sense of deja vu always passed through him whenever the name was brought up.
They knew about Noir. Everyone knew about Noir. It was hard not to when nearly your entire life was affected by their presence and rules.
“Someone from Noir was here a few days ago. He was my age.” Woojin paused, brow crinkling. “He bought a bag of rubber ducks.”
Silence fell. Minho stared at Woojin in confusion, while Woojin himself wondered what exactly he had just uttered.
“...Rubber ducks.” Minho blinked slowly. “A Noir member bought a bag of rubber ducks from some plain old Walmart?”
Woojin laughed, tension leaving his shoulders. Of course, of course that’s what Minho picks out. “Yes, rubber ducks. It just makes me even more confused, honestly.”
“He was at a higher level too. His card was shiny.” Minho frowned. “And it wasn’t purple? It was black?” Woojin nodded, sighing. This was making less and less each time. “It was black. He had a code name too.”
Minho sat back, trying to process the information given to him.
“Why would he come to your shop specifically? The nearest known Noir headquarters is two towns over. And you don’t have anything special that he could want or need. It’s also dangerous for a Noir member to be walking out and about and using their cards.”
Woojin nodded. “He’s young. Either he hasn’t been told the rules yet or he just doesn’t care.”
The latter seemed more dangerous. A man who didn’t care for his own safety, who didn’t care about rules. A man who had a lot of power at the tips of his fingers.
Woojin sighed, standing up.
“There’s no point in waiting around. I’m probably never going to see him ever again.” Minho smirked. “Is there any chance you could tell me what he looks like?”
Woojin glared at him. “Curly blonde hair, bleached, kinda short, extremely pale, fit. Brown eyes. Has a Spartan accent hidden under the normal Athenian. He may have moved from S some time ago, and has been in A ever since.”
MInho snorted. “This poor guy gave away a lot of information to you already. He’s vulnerable now.” Woojin shifted, uneasy. The thought of the curly haired CB97 getting hurt somehow didn’t sit right with him. But why? Why was he feeling this way, when he didn’t know who he was?
“Hyung.” Minho snapped him out of his reverie. “Hyung, I can see right through you. Don’t worry about that guy. He’s higher up, he must know how to protect himself from outside threats. He is probably smart enough to know what will and what won’t get him into trouble.” He eyed Woojin warily. “You, however, don’t. Hurry up and get to work. Keepyour mind off these things.
Woojin rolled his eyes, bidding Minho goodbye, going back to his computers. He had work to do and customers to please.