Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Lee Kyong, currently eight years old but really 37, decided rather quickly that life was decidedly fucked.

His mother, when not high on drugs, was very bad at being his parent. If it weren't for his current reincarnated status, Kyong would be dead. Dead, dead. Like a child corpse. Horrifying if he weren't already in a truly terrible situation to begin with. This life was no worse nor better than his last. Like whatever god put him here just went, 'meh this guy is okay, so just toss him over there' while drinking a cup of champagne. Kyong missed alcohol dearly, his new mother's antics made him want it so bad. Sadly as a still maturing child he had to be responsible. Otherwise his brain would be messed up.

So that meant he would pick up after his mother, drag her to bed when she passed out on their floor and make sure she drank water. Ha-eun had fallen victim to the plight of many in the world, drugs. Luckily Kyong new how to deal with her. 

She woke up most times, semi-coherent as he placed a cool wet towel over her head. Hazy green eyes seeking him out, and words soft.

"I'm sorry, darling."

Whoever she spoke to, Kyong knew it was not him. Maybe the absent father. 

Compared to the other parents he heard in the absolute dump of a neighborhood he lived in, Ha-eun was an angel. Sure she screamed and threw things one moment, then fell to the ground sobbing the next. But Ha-eun did try her hardest, in only a way she knew how. With her light colored hair, emerald eyes and small body, men of all ages were drawn to her. Sometimes she came back smelling of cigar so strongly the house reeked of it for days. Others her pale skin was covered in dark bruises and dirt. Kyong knew of a few of her alleyway haunts she liked to service men in. Where she stood dressed in tiny clothes with her other female friends for hours. More times then not he'd follow her silently, using the shadows to hide himself, to ensure she arrived safely. However she never brought the men to their house. It redeemed her somewhat.

Kyong held no real resentment for her, because at least he wasn't a real child. Like a naïve one who only just starting living his first life. No Kyong was an adult, so he understood to a certain degree what she went through. Empathized with her. Still, he did feel a bit annoyed at the situation in general. 

Because really? Why did he get reincarnated at all? 

Age six was the real age he started being able to fend for himself. Strange really. Before that awareness filtered through a foggy window of his mind. Mostly images of his mother trying to care for him, the gunshots that startled him awake at the dead of night. Softly spoken words of Korean. He at least knew how to speak it because of his last degree in the past. Still his mother sent him strange looks when the inevitable American accent made an appearance. Throughout the years his Korean got better. Sometimes he stumbled, mostly by cussing in English.

The past two years he learned about his world. Roamed the streets like a stray in the dead of night. Dangerous perhaps. Taunting slavers to snatch him up. Mostly drawn to the idea since his mother offered no information herself. The guilt ate at him when he left her more and more. Abandoning her to the demons that kept her repeating the same mistakes. His past mother dealt with the same issue, after years of trying desperately, god and was it desperate, to help her his past mother never got better. Ha-eun would end up the same, he had to constantly remind himself that he couldn't force people to change. No matter how much he wanted them to.

Dreams haunted him still, Ha-eun and his past mother merged together. Accusing him of being selfish, not being enough. In the morning his face would be wet with silent tears, he would slip off the bed and start the next day.

A few men did try to touch him in the streets, ugly wrinkly ones with rotten breath and missing teeth. Kyong taught them very valuable lessons each time. Children may be small, but they could reach places and rip ones that caused immense pain.

When he turned eight, a group of children approached him. Clothes equally torn with too-thin faces and eyes hardened by trauma. A girl who stood at the front, the leader presumably, greeting him. Red hair, cropped messily with what looked like her own means and brown eyes, a child of foreign blood. She stood slightly smaller than him, with wrapped hands holding a baseball bat. 

"We've seen ya stalkin' these streets," Her accent was a familiar one, many on the streets sounded the same. "You beat up assholes real good, we can offer protection so ya don't 'ave to be alone all the time."

Two boys stood behind her, twins with dark hair and eyes. They watched him steadily like a pair of guard dogs. A girl with blue eyes and dark-brown hair stood beside them, softer in the face and gaze haunted.

He scanned them, took in their thin faces and scars. Then smiled. "Sure, why not."

And like that he joined a gang, of sorts. Immature but stubborn, the red-head introduced herself as Park Woong, the other girl as Kim Sook and the twins as Kang Ju-Won and Ji-ho.

Kyong used to be alone in this new world, he never anticipated being surrounded by children. 

Their 'hideout' was an old junkyard, abandoned and picked through until only scraps of metal remained. He climbed over the fence to follow them, and wondered how many of the group had tetanus shots. Probably none of them. Park Woong walked next to him, her weapon causally rested on one shoulder. 

"Most o' the adults leave us alone here, not much here for them to grab nowadays." She commented, as he looked around. They passed a car stripped of everything but the frame, and a couch with springs sticking out. A crow cawed at them, head twisting to watch with the intensity of a scavenger. "Still sometimes they try us, but well, we can't take care o' ourselves." 

She shot him a confident grin. The thin but defined muscles on her arms proved that she spoke the truth. 

Kyong tilted his head. "I see."

Park Woong held up a small hand. "We 'ave a few rules. One, ain't no snitches allowed to run with us. Ya better keep any information a secret you learn about us to yourself, or I'll cave your head in." Another finger flicked up next to her first. "Second, if ya steal and are caught or chased, don't come back here. We don't want no trouble here. 'specially with the police and gangs." A third finger rose. "Third, we're family here. That means we care for our own, when ya go to get food we all get a share. Same with money or anythin' else. No reason to join us if you are selfish."

He nodded. "All very logical rules, I'll try my best to follow them."

She eyed him. "You're a smart one ain't ya?"

"I wouldn't consider myself particularly intelligent."

"Anyone who talks to ya 'ere will know instantly," She replied with a snort. "bit strange. Ya from a rich family or somethin'?"

"No."

"Whatever, we don' care 'bout your personal life. At least not that much, all of us are in this dump for a reason. Kim Sook talks the same way."

Beside him Kim Sook watched them, gaze heavy on his person. Like a jungle cat learning how their prey acted before it struck. "I like to read."

"Yeah, 'cause ya the only one who can." Park Woong retorted good naturedly. "We gotta have another session soon, so the twins and I can learn."

Kim Sook nodded. 

They arrived at a abandoned building, most likely the previous owner's before he left. Broken windows, holes in the roof and half-rotten walls offered little protection. Anything was more then nothing. A neatly spray painted traditional tiger roared along the front walls, he stared at it with surprise. Every detail up to the amber-orange gaze and ferocious roar had been painted to perfection. Like a long forgotten artists decided to gift them with a masterpiece to ease the suffering. Park Woong lead him into the building, a creak echoing as the hinges of the door announced their arrival.

For such a rundown building, the space inside remained cleaned. A few pieces of trash lay forgotten by the desk, and the smell of mold made him wrinkle his noise slightly. Unpleasant, like wet wood that never dried. Hopefully not deadly. They filed down the hallway and Park Woong explained the layout to him.

"Here is where I sleep." She motioned toward what looked like the main office. A pile of blankets shoved in one corner, filing cabinets on the furthest wall with missing drawers and a broken down desk. Still a chair sat, torn apart by rodents but not in the worst of shape, behind the desk. He imagined her sitting there, trying to replace the adult in her life that failed her. "We 'ave meetings and such sometimes. Mostly to plan, or talk about what we learned."

The next room a bit further down had a single couch, stuffing stuck out of it and a thin blanket was draped over the sharp metal pieces. "This is where Kim Sook and the twins sleep, your bed can go o'er there." She pointed toward the furthest corner, the others had a larger pile on the other side, seemingly sleeping together he figured. For warmth as a hole in the ceiling and a shattered window allowed weather to sweep through. "The fridge don't work, neither does the sink."

"Where do you use the bathroom? Or wash off?"

She shrugged. "Some of us use our homes for those things, if we can. Or the public spaces, gotta be careful though. Assholes like to prey on children. We make it work."

"Do you all have a home to go to?" He asked, he glanced at the other three children. 

Park Woong shrugged. "Not much o' a home, I used to but my papa left a year ago. So I live here now."

"Park Woong can survive anything." Kim Sook commented softly. "Out of all of us she knows the streets the best."

Said girl blushed. "S-shut up, things jus' make more sense on the streets."

The designated space for general activities and hang out was the Garage, a large and open area with broken metal doors that couldn't open and picked through tools. The floor was made of concrete so no water seeped into it at least. 

He stayed with them after that, for survival reasons. He could defend himself to a degree but power was in numbers as a child. The group was the first people he considered potential friends. Most of the time they ended up hanging out, chatting about inane subjects to try and ease their troubled lives. Kim Sook was a child of a accidental pregnancy and daughter of one of the prostitutes his mother hung around. The twins Kang Ju-Won and Ji-ho said little, he eventually learned their parents were in debt with loan sharks and spent most the time gambling or drinking. 

Park Woong proved herself to be a successful leader of them all. Carefully planning a trip to the store for them to steal some food out of at times. Never picking the same one, or even a store close to the last one each time they went. Mostly they traveled together as they roamed, even sparred in the open spaces between the piles of metal and trash. Park Woong had no official training, what she learned was a mix of boxing and sheer instinct. Brawling but more focused surprisingly, and effective. The small girl was keen to teach him what she knew, to ensure every one of them could defend themselves. 

"Been there done that." She replied when he inquired about how she learned. "Livin' on the streets as a girl is hard, men wanna prey on ya real bad. Creepy bastards love 'em young. But I won't take shit from no one."

He smiled at her ferocity. The tiger drawn on their building fit her well.

She taught them how to be quiet and unheard, showed how to climb up buildings like a monkey to escape. Most of what she offered ended up with sore muscles. No one complained, even Kim Sook the smallest of them took part. Eventually he gained enough muscle to jump off a wall, grab onto a ledge and pull his body up and over. 

Park Woong brought them to one of her favorite spots at one point. The whole group climbed the fire escapes after her, Ji-ho the oldest of the twins taking up the rear. Up they went, grappling onto pipes and swinging their bodies up. At the roof of the building if they turned just so, no buildings interrupted their view. Before them a sea of red in the sky, shards of golden sunlight turned the clouds shades of orange and amber. 

"When the sun is low on the horizon, its light has to travel through more of the atmosphere than when it's higher in the sky. This means that the light passes through more molecules, which scatter the shorter wavelength blue light away from our eyes." Kim Sook muttered. "The longer wavelength yellow and red light continue on their way to our eyes, which is why sunsets often appear yellow, orange, and red."

Park Woong frowned, in the sunlight her hair nearly replicated the color of the sky. "I have no idea what ya just said Kim Sook."

Kim Sook's lips turned upward in amusement. 

The twins stood on either side of the group. Though nearly identical, Kyong could pick apart the miniscule differences between them. Ji-ho was older, held himself more confident and his dark eyes were a shade lighter. Ju-Won smiled more, compared to the always emotionless face of his brother, his hair took on a slight red hue in the sunlight compared to Ji-ho's dark brown.

Park Woong sat down on the ledge, her feet hanging off of the building. Below a few residents mingled and the street winded down the road like a river. Their small part of the city was far away from the main hubb of main city. Nearly forgotten, like them and all the rest of the children he had yet to meet. 

Kyong set himself in a crouch beside her, and closed his eyes so he could listen to the wind.

Training with Park Woong was one of his favorite parts of his new life. She offered him a challenge his past self never indulged in. Fighting. Relying on your mind to win against your opponent. Strength was a huge factor, so was sheer instinct. If he slowed down even a bit her fist met his face. And Park Woong never held back. If they were training it would hurt. 

Only he really felt the drive to continue to fight her. The others just liked to watch once they learned the basics. At first she won within seconds, a fast flurry of movement and his body met the ground. 

“Don’t think so much, just fight.” She stated as she leaned over him, blocking out the sun. “Smarts are good, but too much and it’s gonna get ya killed.”

He nodded and got up. After a week he learned to watch. Hyper focus on each and every movement of her body. Memorize which muscles twitched when she swung, and what leg she leaned on to kick.

Dirt tasted like nothing. She laughed above him, as his face stung. Kyong pushed up with a cough and rubbed his mouth clean. Nose scrunching at the sensation of dirt on his tongue. 

“Lee Kyong has a 2% chance of winning.” Kim Sook commented on the sidelines. “Got any fours?”

Ji-Ho stared at his cards for a moment, then replied. “Go Fish.”

“Fuck off.” Kyong snapped, he stood up. “No one asked you Kim Sook.”

”Lee Kyong should be honored by the information I share. Since he has little to offer of his own.”

Park Woong snickered, brown eyes dancing. “Ha got ya mad enough to speak English huh? She sure told ya Lee Kyong. Ya do talk smart but ain’t nothin’ in that brain but a hamster.”

He scowled. “Like you are any better.”

Her smile froze, and a single brow twitched on her head. “Oh yea?”

”Yeah. Remember when you forgot the difference between right and left? If I have a hamster in my brain, that means yours must be dead.”

Park Woong swung with the ferocity of a woman scorned and he learned a very valuable lesson.

Do not piss off the leader when she has free reign to beat your ass during training.

Slowly but surely he got better, faster and stronger. Climbing around on the buildings helped, people referred to it as Parkour. Well at least the rich people did. They discovered it because they needed to survive first, fun came second. Parkour strengthened his growing body, so as time passed his fights with Park Woong took longer.

He used that knowledge in his fight, dodged and added a flip to throw her off. She stared at him for a second in shock, before laughing in delight. The fights got more interesting after that. In his journey he began to stretch when he had time, it made his body ache less at the end of the day. So when he tried to do a split, and it worked Kyong knew the work was worth it.

Bending his body in all sorts of ways was fun too. Hand stands, splits, back bends, all of it helped. 

The mornings and nights he fell into the routine of his favorite stretches, Ji-Ho caught him one day in the middle of transitioning from a back bend to a handstand and just stared. 

He beat Park Woong for the first time a few weeks later. She sat for a minute on the ground, and a childish fear rose up in him. Maybe his friend would get mad at him. Park Woong was the leader. Followers weren’t supposed to beat their leaders. 

But then she hopped up, with a particular gleam in her eye and set her hand on his shoulder.

”Lee Kyong, I just got a great idea. How would you like to make more money?”

“Sure.”

She grinned. “Fantastic.”

Park Woong lead him deep into their town a few days later, bat on her shoulder. He wore his old hoodie, shorts and sneakers that fell apart. A man with eyes that looked everywhere but their faces met them in a dark alley. Kyong looked around at this surroundings curiously, kept his focus mostly on the man. Adults were not to be trusted.

”It’s you.” The man muttered, his feet shuffled. “What do ya want brat?”

Park Woong shoved her thumb toward Kyong. “I have a fighter for ya, wanna add him to ya betting pool.”

”Ridiculous.” Was her reply, his lips lifted in a sneer. “He’s a child.”

She bared her teeth at him threateningly. “No shit. What? Ya too much a coward? Thought so. Let’s go Tiger.” 

Kyong, well Tiger he guessed, played the game. Curious about the situation, and the betting pool. Obediently he followed after her. 

“Wait.”

Park Woong paused. 

“Fine. Ten tonight, don’t be late.”

”Glad we understand each other old man.”

Kyong snuck out of his house at 9:30 to meet her, easily scaling down the two story wall. He jumped the rest of the way when the ground was closer, body bending to absorb the impact. Park Woong met him at the place they met the old man, Kim Ga-ram. A small scattering of people lurked around them, Kyong felt their eyes heavy on his form.

Kim Ga-Ram muttered to himself when he spotted them. Unheeding of anyone, Park Woong strode up to him. 

“That’s a kid.” A man said to the left. 

Another spoke up. “Children. Is this a joke?”

”Eh, seen weirder things myself.” A man commented to the right. 

No one made a huge deal about him being there, and if that was not proof enough everyone that lived in their town was shady, he didn’t know what was. Park Woong explained the situation to him when they left earlier. Every Wednesday Kim Ga-Ram ran a fighting ring out on the streets. No police cared enough to patrol anyway. People bet on who would win and half the money went to the winner. 

Kyong felt a bit hesitant about facing off against an adult, but the promise of money made the decision for him. The electricity in their apartment had been shut off, and only a few pieces of moldy oranges sat in their fridge. Since Ha-Eun remained incapable of paying all their bills he needed a way to help. No one would hire an eight year old. 

Apparently they’d let one fight though.

“Go get them Tiger.” Park Woong offered, she patted him on the shoulder and drew herself into the shadows. 

Kyong looked at Kim Ga-Ram since the man was the only one in sight. Kim Ga-Ram ran shaky hands through his hair, bit his lip then shook his head. “Hell, I’m already going to hell anyway.” Louder he spoke. “Who wanna earn some easy cash and fight this kid?”

Silence spread across the street, still the audience stared. Kyong counted about twenty of them. He stood stock still and scanned the forms he could see. 

Finally a man walked up, thin with silver scars on his inner wrists. Beady eyes took Kyong in. “I’ll do it, gonna be a short fight though.”

No bell or announcer began the fight. The man lunged like a feral beast, arms swinging. Kyong nearly laughed. Surely this man was not a regular. If he was, the audience must bet on his opponents to win every time. 

Maybe they bet on Kyong to loose. To this weak druggy.

He turned on his toes, effortlessly avoided the careless swinging of the mans fists and slammed his own into the side of the mans face. Comically the man went tumbling to the ground, he twitched and then stayed down. 

“W-Winner is Tiger.” Kim Ga-Ram said weakly, Kyong had no idea why he sounded shocked. “Next.”

Despite the unusual situation, Kyong found himself bored at the end. Only two more people tried to fight him, the rest just lingered. Caught between guilt and their own morals. If any were left in this town. Kim Ga-Ram reluctantly gave them their share of the money, only around fifty dollars. Kyong could at least buy food. 

“I Knew you’d win.” Park Woong said brightly, her hands interlaced behind her head. “You’re a good fighter Tiger.”

”Why Tiger?”

”Because that’s what our group symbol is! That Tiger on our building isn’t just for show ya know! I painted that for hours!”

He blinked at her, and offered her half of what Ga-Ram gave him. “You did a good job.”

“Thanks. Also no thanks, you can have that. This time.” She winked. “Next time I’ll be chargin’ ya, I ain’t trainin’ you for free any more. Not with your skill.”

”Right, should I call you sensei now?”

She laughed. “No, but you can call me nuna!”

Sister. Yeah that fit. He smiled. 

After that every Wednesday he and Park Woong went to the midnight fighting ring, and he entered. At first the audience remained the same. He won but only received around fifty dollars, half of which went to Park Woong. Then slowly but surely other people fought him. Sometimes older men, younger or middle aged. Most had some experience under their belt, none were as easy as his first opponent. Ha-Eun never noticed the bruises on his face, or the way he’d leave at night. Too caught up in her own world. 

Kyong was okay with that. He saved up money where he could, got to buy them food and learned how to fight other people than Park Woong. 

Eventually the rest of their group learned of his nightly fights. All of them supported him, making money in their world remained very difficult. With no parents to provide for them Kyong had climbed out of that hole. Only now his new hole was more dangerous. He kept a mask over the bottom half of his face to hide himself and a hoodie over his hair. A weak attempt to remain anonymous. Once he saved enough money he started to shove his hair under a beanie Park Woong bought him for his birthday. One with tiger stripes and ears, she howled in laughter when he first put it on.

The beanie only made the adults under estimate him more. Kyong watched how they moved, absorbed the information in his head each time a hit landed. Using complex foot work helped confuse his opponents, something his first loss taught him. The man danced around like the ground was made of lava. 

So Kyong did that too. He added his own foot work to the routine stretches, to ingrain the habit in his mind. As time passed he met the dancing man again, used his own personal dance to beat him. Victory was sweet. More money started to come in for him, at nine years old the audience grew used to him. Started to act eager when they noticed him show up. 

Kyong danced, twisted, flipped and swung. Took every fight as an opportunity to learn a new skill. Soon Park Woong held no challenge to him, though they still sparred. Instead he relied on the foes in the ring to make his blood race. 

On the other days he ran around as usual, stayed out of the house more and more. Until he only slept in bed or went to eat and wash off. Ha-Eun acted like he barely existed. They were more roommates than child and mother. 

He had his gang for company, Ha-Eun could do as she wanted. 

Life was not easy, nor particularly delightful. He still had fun. Moments of watching the sun set with everyone, or hanging out in their hide out, fighting against a random person on Wednesday it all made his life enjoyable. Boredom had once threatened to suck him dry of any real happiness. Kyong felt thankful he had what he did. 

So when he met Yoon Taemin, he thought nothing of it. Actually had spotted him once in a while but never remembered his face. Now the image was clear in his mind. 

He scanned the brown-haired child his age and noted the bruises on his face. One of those parents, huh. “Wanna join our group?” He asked Yoon Taemin, who stared at him with a guarded expression. 

“What group?”

”One with kids your age.” Kyong replied, he tried to keep his body language open. Yoon Taemin had enough muscle on his body to indicate the kid could fight. Good enough to survive this hell hole. “We can help take care of you.”

Like a stray dog Yoon Yaemin glared at him suspiciously. “Why should I trust ya?”

Kyong grinned. “Well we could fight over it. If I win you come and meet everyone, if you win I leave you alone.” He half expected Yoon Taemin to say no. 

“Sounds simple ‘nough, but no serious hits. I don’t have money to go to the hospital.”

”No problem.” 

Yeah, he liked the look in Yoon Taemin’s eyes. He’d fit in well. 

Chapter Text

Yoon Taemin proved to be an adequate fighter. Kyong just had far more experience. So, with swift footwork and a targeted sweep of Taemin’s feet the boy was sent tumbling to the ground. Kyong grinned at his astonished expression.

“You-How are you so fast!” Taemin shouted, leaping on his feet with blazing eyes. “I couldn’t even react!”

Kyong shrugged and picked at his ear.

“Practice. So, are you going to join us now?”

Taemin paused.

Agreeing to join their group verbally was a huge risk for Yoon Taemin. While their group offered him protection, he could just as easily be targeted as an enemy if he did something wrong. Being hunted down in his own streets was far too dangerous a notion for him to take Kyong’s offer lightly.

But Kyong had already decided Taemin would join the group. The other boy had potential, and a fire in his eyes. Once he learned how to fight better Taemin would greatly benefit their group.

Taemin thought silently for a moment and Kyong didn’t pressure him into an answer. They all had their own lives after all, who knew what Taemin’s situation was.

“Fine.”

Kyong blinked, then grinned.

“Excellent.”

He led Yoon Taemin to their hideout, watching Taemin’s reactions as he looked around their junk yard of a home. Inside Park Wong waited for them, her dark eyes serious as she took in Taemin.

On either side of her were the other members, the twins and Kim Sook.

Taemin visibly stilled under the pressure of their eyes. Kyong feared for a moment that the boy would bolt.

“So, you want him to join our group.” Park Woong said, she turned her attention to Kyong. Not particularly irritated, just cautiously curious. “Why?”

“Hey don’t talk about me like I’m not here!” Taemin snapped, Park Woong looked back at him with a raised brow.

“Well you’re pretty spirited aren’t ya?”

“Anyone would get annoyed if they were talked about in front of their face like that. I would like to formally ask you to join, I don’t care about that bastard.”

Kyong choked back a laugh. He had to visibly over his mouth to stop himself.

“Yoon Taemin is pretty bold.” Kim Sook chirped with a bland expression on her face. One of the twins nodded ion agreement. “I think he’ll fit in perfectly.”

“You just want ta see ‘im and Lee Kyong fight!” Park Woong whined. “I can already see the chaos they’re going to cause.”

Taemin flicked his gaze between Park Woong and Kim Sook, obviously confused. “Wait so I can join?”

Park Woong waved her hand at him dismissively. “Yeah yeah, sure ya can. Just don’t start any trouble!” She swung her hand between the two of them with her teeth bared. “Or I’ll beat the crap out of ya both!”

Kyong snorted.

“Okay.”

“Whatever.” Taemin replied with his arms crossed.

Park Woong did indeed read the air between them correctly. Within a week he and Taemin got into three fights over the tiniest of things. Who got to sleep where, what color was the best one and over the fact Kyong snored from time to time.

Overall though, Taemin proved to be a great addition. During their group heists they went on he was one of the most athletic. Fast enough to avoid notice and strong enough to hold his own. Whatever he had been up to before they met him made him fit enough to be able to keep up with him and more.

“So, you guys just hang out?”

Lying on the couch reading a torn comic for the 20^th time, Kyong nodded. A single sheet covered the couch to try and soften the bumps age and weather caused the furniture. Kyong figured it was the most comfortable piece they had.

At the end of the couch, Yoon Taemin sat on the last cushion. Kyong felt kind enough to allow the boy on with couch with him. Not that Yoon Taemin seemed to like the situation, he probably preferred the floor.

“I guess and steal from stores. But mostly hang out.” Lee Kyong replied. He flipped the next page of his comic book.

“Oh.”

“What did you expect something different?”

Yoon Taemin shrugged. “I guess, I don’t know. I’ve heard about what the gangs do around here I thought you guys were like that. But you’re just a bunch of kids.”

Kyong peered at him over his comic. “Just kids huh? What sort of things do you hear about the gangs?”

“Mostly about the main one, no one knows who their leader is, but they use a tiger just like the one you have on the building as their crest.”

“What?”

“Yeah, you didn’t know? Was the reason I assumed you guys would be a little more dangerous, figured they claimed you guys as their own.”

Kyong sat up and put the comic down. He could imagine the Tiger perfectly in his mind, a bold piece of work anyone could see from blocks away. If what Taemin said was true, the Yakuza group already knew of them. No way could they not.

Kyong bolted off the couch.

“Hey!”

He ignored Taemin’s shouts and jogged over the office, where Park Woong sat on the office chair playing with a small knife. She jolted when he arrived, and sent him a wicked glare.

“Be careful about surprising someone wit a sharp object idiot! I could ‘ave gotten hurt!”

Kyong shut the door of the office behind him, blocking the confused Taemin from entering as well. He complained loudly behind the door.

“When were you going to tell me?”

Park Woong sat up and frowned at him. “’Bout what?”

“The Tiger? What it stands for!”

She froze and her face turned a shade lighter. A sense of doom filled him at her reaction. He clenched his fists and let out an angry breath.

“So, it does have meaning.” He snarled.

Park Woong closed her eyes tightly and turned away from him.

“It’s not what ya think.”

“What is it then?”

Though anger curled hot under his chest, Kyong saw the way Park Woong seemed to close in on herself and calmed down a bit.

They all had demons on these streets, Park Woong was no different.

“You have ta promise not to tell anyone.”

“Do the other know?”

“Yes.” She replied softly. “Kim Sook was there ta experience that man.”

“That man?”

“My pa.”

He crossed his arms. “I thought he abandoned you on the streets.”

“He did, but grandpa didn’t know that.”

“Grandpa?”

“Yeah, the Yakuza leader that uses that tiger as their crest is run by my Grandfather, Nam Haneul.”

Kyong had to lean back on the wall to ground himself as his mind processed the information. In the hallway the muted voices of Kim Sook and Yoon Taemin conversed. The boy heatedly said something to her and her calm tone answered back. Then two sets of footsteps walked away.

“So you can use your grandfather’s crest whenever you want?”

“No.” She said quietly, she stared at the rotten desk in front of her. “But he’s obviously allowing it ‘cause no one has tried to hurt us or remove it.”

“He’s probably watching our movements on the streets.” He snapped. “Park Woong why did you keep this from me? If I had known the amount of danger I pulled Yoon Taemin into, I would have not recruited him.”

“We’re not in danger!” She replied heatedly. “If we were I would ‘ave said something!”

“But we are, because you are related to the boss of the Yakuza that automatically endangers anyone you interact with!”

She narrowed her eyes and slammed her hands on the desk. For a moment, looking utterly intimidating with the amount of anger glowing behind her eyes. Her hair seemed to reflect her temper as it reflected firelight under the poor lighting of the room.

“Don’t talk ta me like that. You know life is hard on the streets, no matter where ya are there is danger. I am sorry for not sayin’ anything, but I am in far more danger than any of you all will ever be.”

Silence fell between them; Park Woong closed her eyes and took a few steadying breaths.

A stab of guilt clawed at his stomach for being so hard on her. Park Woong was right, he and the rest of them had always been in danger. Whether he met her or not, some form of human-related threat hung over their heads.

“I’m sorry.” He offered. “I had no idea what the tiger meant until Yoon Taemin mentioned something. I felt like an idiot and lashed out on you.”

Resentment of her lies still soured his temper, but Kyong understood her better.

“I’m sorry as well.” She said.

“Will they look for you one day, to-I don’t know, like raise you to be heir or something?”

Park Woong snorted and sat back on her office chair with a loud thump.

“A female bein’ the leader of the Yakuza? What sort of world do ya live in?”

“Right.”

A pity really, he could imagine her successfully leading the Yakuza once she got older. Park Woong definitely had the willpower and temper to deal with unruly gangsters.

“So did your father teach you to fight or something? Is that how you were able to teach me?”

Park Woong shrugged. “Kinda. He tried ‘is best to toughen me up, despite his displeasure of my gender. Not like he was a real father though, too busy getting’ into trouble and doin’ drugs. One day he just left.”

“To go back to the Yakuza?”

“Who knows. I don’t really care about ‘im anymore.”

“Understandable.”

Kyong thought back to his mother Ha-eun, who wasted away in his apartment. They barely exchanged words anymore, she probably forgot he existed.

“We’ll still have to be alert no matter what.” He said. “If your grandfather is truly watching us then he’ll notice our numbers are rising. We steal food frequently enough he may try to put a stop to it.”

“You’re right. Yoon Taemin can be the last person we allow to join. Anymore mouths to feed and unwanted attention will be drawn.”

He nodded in agreement.

Their relationship turned a bit tense after that, though Park Woong seemed more open around him. Now that he was up to date on her secret Kim Sook and the twins also warmed up to him.

Park Woong agreed to eventually tell Taemin once he proved to be a permanent member of their group. He already knew they had a relation to the Yakuza, so he at least wasn’t completely in the dark.

Kyong invited Yoon Taemin to his evening fight to try and ease the other boy’s tension. Park Woong tagged along as usual to play his manager of sorts.

Taemin took one look at his mask and tiger beanie and laughed.

“You look ridiculous.”

Kyong rolled his eyes. They hung back in the alley as Park Woong bartered with Kim Ga-Ram. People had already started to gather of all ages, muttering amongst each other as they decided who to bet on.

“This looks pretty serious.” Taemin said after a moment of looking around. He eyed a particularly twitchy older gentleman with caution. “Do you do this a lot?”

“Have to.” Kyong replied, he recognized most of the observers tonight and noticed a few newbies. He wondered if they were the ones he was going to fight. “Don’t worry no one has had to go to the hospital yet.”

Taemin sent him a look, despite his temper the kid was a cautious one.

“Who even came up with this idea?”

“Nona.”

“Nona? You mean Park Woong?”

Kyong nodded.

“Figures, she seemed to have some connections on the streets.”

“She’s been on them longer than any of us.”

Park Woong motioned for him and he stepped forward, ensuring his mask and hat were covering most of his facial features. Kim Ga-Ram perked up when he spotted him, a vastly different reaction compared to when they first met.

“Nice to see you Lee Kyong!” The older man said. “We have a lot of people betting on you tonight.”

Kyong nodded.

“I’ll win.”

That got a laugh. “Maybe, but be careful we have someone special tonight.”

Kyong ended up going against three separate people and winning to eventually meet this ‘special’ person. A teenager with jaded eyes and a scar on his left eye, he looked to be around 16 years old.

Kyong had fought against older people before, being ten never stopped him from winning before.

They both fell into positions as the crowd surrounded them. People whispered amongst each other as Kim Ga-Ram collected their money. Off in the back Park Woong stood leaning against a building as she and Yoon Taemin watched. Taemin had yet to say anything since the fighting started but Kyong was too busy to find out why.

His limbs felt a bit heavy from the past three fights. Sure, his opponents were easy, the fighting multiple opponents was what was getting to him.

He wanted to win though, so Kyong pushed away those thoughts. This money he won could get his mother and him more food and help pay their water bill.

The two of them stalked each other for a bit, the teenagers eyes were chips of dark ice. From the way he stood Kyong could tell he fought before. Unlike a lot of his opponents who usually just wanted some extra cash.

Kyong spotted a dark tattoo on the edge of the teenager’s shirt neck, the end of an animal he couldn’t identify trailing down his back. Kyong narrowed his eyes.

Only Yakuza could afford tattoos in these parts.

His opponent struck first, and Kyong focused on the fight. The world became a blur after that, he skipped and turned and flipped to avoid being hit. The other boy was not as graceful or nimble but he struck hard and true. Kyong got a solid fist to his gut for failing to block a fist.

The pain made his mind blank out. Kyong took a steading breath and slid his feet into a solid defensive stance. People cheered around him, a bit too loudly for it being nighttime on the streets.

“Get him Tiger!”

“Go Jeon Min kick his ass!”

Even Park Woong stood straighter to watch his progress, beside her Taemin’s face turned a mixture between annoyed and worried.

Kyong wiped the sweat from his eyes with a shaking hand. His opponent Jeon Min looked just as tired but not nearly as beat up. Suddenly the effort to try and hit Jeon Min sounded too hard a task.

He was just so tired.

Kyong thought about his broken-down apartment that smelled like used clothes, smoke and rotten food. If he didn’t win this then their water would be turned off and he’d not be able to wash himself. Filthy like everything else he was surrounded by.

Why is this life so hard?

He rolled his shoulders back and took a deep breath.

Did it matter? He just needed to win.

Kyong blacked out after that, exceeded his perceived limits and won the fight against Jeon Min. Who ended up on the ground with a red mark on his face. Everyone went wild. Park Woong pushed through the crowd with sharp elbows, and met him in the middle.

“You did it Lee Kyong! That was amazing!”

Through heavy eyes he stared at her smiling face, and felt his own form. Park Woong was also going to benefit from his win since she got half. He was glad to end up the victor.

All he wanted to do was get away from all the noise and lie down. On a soft bed.

He did get away from the noise, Taemin and Park Woong lead him to the hideout and he laid on the bumpy couch. Taemin lingered in the room, not saying a word. A cross look on his face like he ate something sour.

Lee Kyong had no energy to figure out what was wrong. He fell asleep within moments.

In the morning, he woke up to the smell of coffee.

He opened his eyes and stared at the paper cup that steamed on the table in front of him. Was he still in a dream? He hadn’t had coffee in years.

“You’re awake.”

Yoon Taemin sat at the foot of the couch on the ground. Curled up in a ball, his big brown eyes stared Lee Kyong down with a surprising intensity.

“I am, and you got me coffee?” Kyong asked in disbelief, he sat up reached a hand out to the cup. Brought the coffee to his nose and inhaled.

Holy shit coffee smelled so good.

“Yeah, we went on a store run and I snagged one for you. Because well..”

Taemin turned his head away from Kyong’s searching gaze.

“…you won all those fights and got hurt. I’ve never seen anything like that.”

Such a confession felt big for a child who lived on the streets. Kyong felt his heart soften a bit.

“Thank you.”

Appreciation spread through Lee Kyong like a tsunami, it drowned all other reactions with a warm fuzzy feeling. Their group never splurged on delicacies like this, coffees and candy weren’t going to give anyone enough nutrients for them to buy them regularly.

Taemin went out of his way to spend a few precious bucks on a drink Kyong could finish in a few minutes.

Taemin’s face turned a interesting shade of red.

“Don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what?”

“With that smile! It’s-just stop!”

Yoon Taemin acted weird, but he was a cool kid.  

They hung out more after that. Yoon Taemin started to want to learn how to fight better, and Park Woong took him under her wing for a bit. Once he surpassed her he and Kyong started to spar every day. Having a kid his age and size to practice with was a good release, for the both of them really.

Their group still had separate lives despite how close they were. Yoon Taemin seemed to have the most brutal adult out of all of them as a father. Sometimes coming back all black and blue from the physical hits he received.

“Just live with me! Livin’ in this dump is better than your house!” Park Woong snapped one day, as they watched Kim Sook cleaned one of Yoon Taemin’s cuts on his face.

“No way!” Yoon Taemin shouted back. “I’d rather die!”

“Yajust might!”

“Don’t push him to do something he feels uncomfortable with.” Kim Sook said softly. Her blue eyes showed no emotion, but her voice was stern enough it made Park Wong pause. “We all have things to deal with in our lives.”

Kang Ju-Won one of the twin nodded. “Agreed, Park Wong give him a break.”

She huffed and backed up a little.

“I’m just worried. His father sounds like an asshole! I hate hearin’ you guys go through such bullshit.”

Taemin sighed and pulled away from Kim Sook, she didn’t follow him.

“Thanks you guys, I’ll be okay. I appreciate you Park Woong but I can handle myself.”

Maybe one day he’d learn to rely on them, Lee Kyong mused. Leaning against the wall as he watched them chat. Though considering Park Woong still held a secret from Yoon Taemin about her own history he didn’t feel compelled to side with anyone.

The group only knew bits and pieces of his life, as he did theirs. No one knew about his reincarnation, and he planned to keep it that way. So he understood the need for privacy.

Watching Yoon Taemin come and go with so many bruises was hard. Just as it was hard to know Park Woong had no home to go back to and Kim Sook’s mother slept with however wanted her. Lee Kyong did his best to support them all while remaining mentally stable.

He went back and forth between their hide out, home and the fighting on the streets for a while. More people showed up to watch, his name started to stick. They all knew him from his tiger beanie and face mask.

A few months later he ran across Yoon Taemin fighting with a woman of all things. A woman with blonde hair that he nearly confused at his mother.

But Ha-eun had ash-blonde hair and green eyes, not white-blonde with purple eyes. He’d never seen this woman before.

Lee Kyong paused, crouched on top of the brick wall that surrounded the yard he found them all in.

A child with the same hair and eye color of the woman was on the ground, Yoon Taemin battled with her as she aggressively came toward them with a glass bottle. Her face was wild, he’d seen that expression on the tweakers in the streets.

She swung the bottle and Lee Kyong leaped from the wall and slid to a stop right in front of her. Everyone around him startled, Yoon Taemin’s eyes widened in alarm.

“Lee Kyong!?”

Whatever relation Yoon Taemin had to this woman and child was of no consequence. Lee Kyong stood up and straightened his shoulders to stare the woman down.

She faltered under his gaze for a moment. He went though a growth spurt recently and stood a few inches taller than Yoon Taemin now. With years of muscle, he grew from fighting and running along the rooftops. Her frail body stood no chance against his.

“Who is this brat?!” She spat. “Another filthy orphan? What are you some whore?”

Her screech was aimed toward her son, who flinched on the ground. He watched the scene with wide eyes like a scared animal.

The poor kid was terrified, who knew how long this woman abused him. Kyong’s felt his anger rise at the thought. Not only was she trying to hurt Taemin, but she also dragged in another person as well.

How come all the adults in this world were pieces of trash?

“Back the fuck off.” Lee Kyong snarled. Only just realizing after it was too late he spoke in English. He forced himself to speak in Korean after that. “Or I’ll kill you.”

She backed up and eyed him warily, he stared her down without flinching.

He could take her.

A part of her must have realized that as well, because she dropped the bottle and walked away. Throwing a few slurs over her shoulder before wobbling up a set of stairs that lead to the second story of the apartment before them. She slid into one of them with a slam of the door.

He wondered if she’d allow her son to come in. Probably not.

Lee Kyong turned to face the two other boys. Taemin was checking up on the other kid with a soft mother-like intensity. The kid had no idea what to do with the soft fingers looking for cuts or broken bones.

“You certainly know how to get in trouble Yoon Taemin.” Kyong said.

“Yeah, thanks for intervening.” Taemin replied, he patted the boy on the head and looked at Kyong for a moment. “You really can be rather scary like a tiger, huh?”

Kyong cocked his head.

“I guess?”

Taemin snorted and stood up. He focused back on the other kid. “Are you able to get up?”

The kid glanced between them hesitantly, like a mouse trapped between two cats. He looked like a delicate China doll despite the dirt and ragged clothes. It was a surprise Kyong never noticed him until now, since the kind stood out from everyone else.

The kid nodded finally and stood up on shaky legs.

“T-thank you.”

He stayed hunched to try and appear less threatening, Kyong felt a stab of sympathy for him. Another child the victim of abuse, would it never end?

“What’s your name?” Kyong asked.

The kid flinched. “M-Min Woojin.”

“It’s okay he won’t hurt you.” Yoon Taemin soothed, reaching a hand out to pat Min Woojin’s head.

Kyong raised a brow.

“You two know each other then.”

“Yeah we met a few weeks ago, I’ve been trying to help him out as best as I can.” Taemin replied.

The two stared at each other, there was a connection Kyong felt he intruded on. He took a step back and rubbed his head.

“Well I’m glad you’re okay. I’ll be off I guess.”

Yoon Taemin opened his mouth, maybe to agree. Maybe something else. Lee Kyong hoped over the wall before anything could be said.

Each of them had their own lives, he shouldn’t be upset Yoon Taemin found a friend.

He avoided Yoon Taemin after that when he did show up to their hideout. Taemin was gone frequently due to his new friendship, something they all noticed. However, the unsaid acceptance of privacy kept any of the members from prying too much.

Min Woojin obviously needed help and Yoon Taemin had some to offer.

So, Lee Kyong focused on his fights to keep himself busy. Eventually he ran into Jeon Min again, but not during the actual fight. The teenager approached afterwards with a man following him, one dressed in a fine suit and a cold look in his eyes.

Everyone scattered, Park Woong stayed at his side, but Lee Kyong could spot the terrified expression on her face.

“My name is Han Ji, boss wants to talk to you.”

Fear turned his blood cold. He looked between Jeon Min and Han Ji. Both wore stone masks of indifference. He spotted a gun holster attached to the belt of Han Ji and nodded.

“You’re coming too Park Woong.”

Park Woong’s head dropped.

No real choice was really there for them to take advantage of. At least Yoon Taemin was not around to be pulled into the mess. Lee Kyong took Park Woong’s hand and followed the two men to the parked car down the street.

Silence laid heavily in the vehicle. It had been so long since he went into the car the speed made his head spin a bit. Buildings passed by, it seemed like hours until the car stopped. He and Park Woong followed the two men through a set of gates and into the yard of a very traditional Korean hanok. A massive compound of sorts with elegant landscape. Inside a group of men dressed in dark suits greeted them.  

“The boss wants to see these two.”

“Yes sir!” One replied and they parted ways to allow Han Ji and the rest to make their way toward the main room. All of the men had weapons of their own and had a certain cold edge to their eye that made the hair on Lee Kyong’s arms stand up.

He pressed closer to Park Woong and she squeezed his hand in reply.

The man who waited for them was an older one with greying red hair and brown eyes. He looked at the two of them as they filed in with indifference.

“Thank you Han Ji, Jeon Min, you may go.”

They bowed in respect and left Lee Kyong and Park Woong to face the boss alone.

The man curled his fingers in front of his face and leaned forward. A massive oak desk held an expensive looking computer and various files on it. He sat in a large black office chair made of leather that shined in the light.

“So, I finally get to meet my granddaughter and her lacky, how fortunate am I.”

Kyong and Park Woong exchanged looks.

“I knew about you of course, but it wasn’t until recently I decided to do something about it. You’re a bold one for using our symbol and naming this boy here Tiger young lady.”

Park Woong tightened her fingers into her pant leg.

“I’m sorry if I caused any disrespect sir.”

“Are you though?” Nam Haneul asked.

She had no answer for him.

“I thought not, but I don’t really care” He continued. “However, I do require something of your friend here, he’s made a name for himself.”

Lee Kyong straightened when the Yakuza bosses’ eyes landed on him. No emotion was visible in those dark eyes, it made something primal in him shiver.

“Join me.”

“No way!” Park Woong snapped.

“Nona!” Kyong shouted as his anxiety skyrocketed. “Don’t-“

“Feisty little thing.” Nam Haneul stated, the corner of his lip twitched. “Despite your whore of a mother and disappointment of a father you still have my blood in you.”

Park Woong flinched at his tone and lowered her eyes.

“You know.”

“Obviously, I’m no fool. Especially with your bold use of that tiger on your little hideout. I can let that pass though, if you put Lee Kyong in my care.”

“If I don’t?”

“I know where each of your little friends live.”

“I’ll join.”

They both focused on Lee Kyong who faced Nam Haneul’s focus with a face of determination.

He understood this situation perfectly. Their friends were getting threatened, and Lee Kyong could ensure their safety from one of the largest Yakuza groups around. For whatever reason Nam Haneul wanted him enough to bargain.

“But Lee Kyong-“ Park Woong tried. Desperation in her eyes, he’d never seen her so frantic. “You don’t understand what he’s asking.”

“To vow my entire existence to him?” Lee Kyong replied evenly. “Be loyal to no one else and listen without question. I understand.”

Nam Hanuel laughed.

“It seems Jeon Min chose you well. But don’t worry I won’t ask for anything too dangerous of you.”

Park Woong’s eyes burned into Lee Kyong’s face. She wanted to say more, beg and plead with him. The decision felt like a piece of the puzzle in his life, in a way it all made sense. Joining the Yakuza would be the continuation of his suffering in this life. If it meant saving his friends he’d accept it.

“Just fight for me.”

“Will I get to say goodbye?”

“Do you really want to?”

Lee Kyong glanced at Park Woong, her eyes were full of tears. Angry and sad ones. Then he looked away.

“No.”

Park Woong could say goodbye for him.

“Then in exchange for your fists I’ll leave my granddaughter and her little group alone. Consider them under my protection as long as you continue to win.”

“Yes sir.”

Like ripping off a band aid Nam Haneul had Park Woong escorted out of the compound without another word. Never again mentioning their relation. It seemed he truly couldn’t careless the girl was his granddaughter.

He allowed Lee Kyong a day to try and get used to his new environment before sending him off to train. Lee Kyong was equipped with a pair of expensive looking boxing gloves and work out clothes to match, as well as new clothes for daily use. A man purposely chosen to teach him holding a severe scowl on his face greeted him.

“Get to work.”

Lee Kyong did as he asked.

No choice but to move forward.

Chapter Text

Though living on the streets enforced a certain amount of discipline, purposely training for a single goal turned out to be completely different. 

"Again."

One. Two. Three. 

Upper cut. Jab. Jab.

"Again."

One. Two. Three. 

Jab. Cross. Jab.

Sweat burned his eyes, his arms throbbed. His bones felt like hot lead the longer he practiced. One punch, then another, and another. Next punch he'd stop and refuse to listen to the old man rattling off commands like some sort of sergeant. No one could keep him trapped like this without repercussions. 

"Stop."

Lee Kyong did, he rolled his shoulders back with a loud sigh and looked at the ceiling. The artificial lights of the dojo seemed to mock him. 

"Don't hold your breath when you swing." Suzuki-san commented briskly. Just like everyone in the compound he wore a dark suit and tie. His greying hair slicked back made his eyes all that more severe. "Pull back, inhale. Punch and exhale. You'll exhaust yourself if you don't."

I'm already there. He wanted to say. Kyong held his tongue. He nodded and waited for the next order. And they were orders. With his current situation of being a hostage to ensure the freedom of his friends, Kyong acted as a bargaining chip. Sometimes at night when he went home, he'd stare at the dark ceiling and contemplate his life. Death and then rebirth into one of the shadiest communities he'd ever lived in. What a joke.

"You're dismissed for the day."

Lee Kyong took the chance when offered, the Dojo had a shower in the changing rooms so he took a quick one then left as soon as he could. The posted guards in the yard eyed him as he made his way to the gate, one opened for him, and he left without a word.

For a moment he considered going to visit Park Woong and the rest of the gang. Walking any more than he needed sounded a bit too much work, so he opted to go home instead.

Ha-eun greeted him.

"Looks like you're finally home, what have you been up to child?"

Kyong shrugged. 

"Nothing."

She snorted and took a large drag of her cigarette. The whole house smelled like tobacco, he covered his nose to try and block out the smell. 

"Right. Whatever you've gotten involved in doesn't bring us money. Do you expect to live here like a freeloader or something?"

He took a seat against the wall with a loud sigh. Instantly relieved once his butt hit the ground.

"I'll get some money tomorrow."

"Good, I'm not made of cash you know."

Indeed. Though he had a hard time imagining Ha-eun having money at all in her life. Besides her customers who paid her on the streets for 'sessions' Ha-eun barely contributed to their financial situation. How he even grew up with a roof over his head was a mystery.

He fell asleep on the floor and woke up early in the morning to an empty house. A sharp pang of hunger twisted his stomach, and he winced. Cleaning the house helped him ignore it for the most part. Days old dirty dishes, clothes and trash seemed to cover everything. The cheap cleaning solution he kept under the sink felt ineffective, but he had no other options. At least when he finished, the house stopped feeling like a complete pigsty. Well, mold grew in corners, and pieces of the wall were broken from heavy objects hitting them, but cleaning was all he could do to help it look better. 

Kyong looked through their cabinets for any sort of subsistence, packets of ramen noodles mostly. Instant of course, and a bag of peanuts. 

Something would be better than nothing he supposed. So, peanuts and ramen for breakfast.

Initially he felt inclined to visit Park Woong and the rest of the gang. Being around familiar faces would lighten his mood immensely rather than being surrounded by the depressing walls of the apartment. 

Then he thought of his last interaction with Park Woong, where her grandfather Nam Haneul, the leader of the Yakuza blackmailed him into joining. He suddenly wanted to be alone rather than try and approach how he felt about the situation. 

Park Woong was a child, being frustrated with her lack of logic and responsibility would be unfair to her. Especially since he was an adult stuck in a child's body on his second life. Of course, Park Woong choose a difficult path. Wasn't like she had an adult figure in her life to teach her any different. So, he opted to venture outside a bit and get some fresh air, Nam Haneul would not expect him until later in the day to train. 

 Kyong busied himself by roaming around the streets. When that became too boring, he climbed up the nearest building and watched people from the roof.

Yoon Taemin caught his attention at the thirty-minute mark.

Initially Kyong wanted to avoid him. Taemin was probably busy heading to see his new friend.

But why was he so…sad looking?

His sagged shoulders and lowered head spoke words. From the months he knew Taemin, Kyong got used to his confident attitude.

Something happened. His father being an asshole again maybe?

Kyong climbed down the building before he realized what his body was doing. Landing on the ground soundlessly.

“Yoon Taemin!”

Taemin paused and looked at him with wide brown eyes.

Kyong tried his best to offer a smile, feeling extremely awkward. This was a terrible idea, but he’d feel worse if he didn’t at least ask what was wrong.

He ran a hand through his hair. “Long time no see, sorry we haven’t seen each other in a bit. Are you okay?”

Taemin stared at him for a moment, from this angle Kyong could see the dark bags under his eyes and the weight loss. For a ten-year-old Taemin looked like a thirty something year old depressed adult troubled by life.

Lee Kyong faltered under those eyes, and looked away. Guilt ate at his gut.

“Lee Kyong? You’re still around?”

Kyong chanced a glance toward Yoon Taemin.

“Yeah, sorry. I’ve been…busy. Did Park Woong tell you anything?”

“She did. Are you really apart of the Yakuza now?”

“Yes.” He replied. “Not by choice, but boss has me training to fight for him officially as a boxer when I get old enough. I guess my fighting impressed him enough to promise to leave you guys alone if I joined and fought for him.”

“That’s not right. Fighting as you were was dangerous enough, to force someone your age to do that is wrong.”

“Life isn’t fair.” Kyong said. “We both know that.”

“Yeah.”

Yoon Taemin looked away and he seemed to lose the energy he gained in their relationship. Kyong furrowed his brow in confusion and worry.

“What’s going on Yoon Taemin?”

“I don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Is it that asshole again? Did your father do something to you?”

Yoon Taemin stilled, then shook his head.

“No.”

“Sorry if I’m making you uncomfortable. You just look really upset.”

Yoon Taemin peered at him from the corner of his eye. Then sighed. He turned and faced Kyong directly, his gaze lightened a bit.

“Thank you. I may not seem like it, but I am happy to see you again. I’m glad you came back. After Min Woojin disappeared, and then I couldn’t find you, I thought I was alone.”

Oh.

“Oh.”

Lee Kyong wanted to slap himself, but no words could express the intense feelings that washed through him. Yoon Taemin’s confession was a hit to his gut. Min Woojin and Taemin had been hanging out for a while he knew, and Taemin didn’t trust people easily. Min Woojin disappeared, of course Taemin felt depressed.

Kyong hoped Min Woojin went somewhere better. Safer.

“I’m sorry Yoon Taemin.”

“Like you said, life isn’t fair. I’ll be okay.”

“Right.”

“Wanna hang out?”

The abrupt offer caught Kyong off guard, but he nodded. Taemin motioned his head to the side, and he followed quietly. Falling into step with Taemin. Taemin was a tiny bit smaller than him height wise he realized. Nothing noticeable to most people unless they paid close attention.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets, and they fell into a comfortable silence.

Around min afternoon he and Yoon Taemin split, Taemin to go hang out with Park Woong and Kyong to start getting ready. When the sun began to set, he grabbed his tiger beanie and mask, then headed to the usual meeting spot.

He hung back a bit in the darkness to avoid Kim Ga-Ram’s notice. Stared at the mask in his hands.

Did hiding his identity hold any value anymore, now that he joined the Yakuza? Boss and his lackies had no trouble finding out who he was. Besides, the others probably knew what happened since last time he got picked up off the road right after the fight.

Somehow though, wearing the mask and hat felt comfortable. Even if they knew who he was, Kyong liked the illusion of being unknown. Fighting with his face covered brought a certain amount of peace to him, suddenly he wasn’t Lee Kyong.

No, he was just him, the man who died and then got reborn.

Kyong slipped the facemask on and straightened his shoulders.

Silly or not, he’d do as he pleased.

Kim Ga-Ram noticed his footsteps, and then frowned.

Kyong braced the older man to dismiss him. His fingers shook. If he could no longer fight for money, how would he buy food for himself?

“Where is that Park Woong brat? Isn’t she your manager or something?”

Lee Kyong paused, then shook his head.

“No. We…parted ways for a bit. I speak for myself right now.”

Kim Ga-Ram looked him up and down.

“Whatever. You know the drill, half goes to me when you win.”

When?

Yoon Taemin blinked in confusion.

Kim Ga-ram rolled his eyes.

“I would be a fool to not notice your talent boy. Don’t act all humble now. Everyone knows who you’re associated with, it’s going to only bring more competition and business.”

“So, you don’t care?”

“Of course I do.” Kim Ga-Ram snapped. “However, I don’t think you’re stupid enough to go against the Yakuza’s orders, so I’m assuming you’re here with his knowledge to fight as always.”

Admitting to the fact he never expressly asked permission would be a bad idea. Besides, Kyong decided, boss would have said something. The man didn’t seem like someone who would hold back.

The rules according to him were.

“Come and train under Suzuki until you’re old enough to compete, then win for me. You’re allowed freedom to do what you want, but know you are mine now. When the time comes, you’ll have my symbol just like everyone else does on your skin.”

Kim Ga-Ram predicted right, as when the fight finally started Lee Kyong realized the crowd had grown. More voices and money passed around as they circled him and his opponent. A young many years older than him.

“I’m honored to fight someone like you Tiger,” His opponent said, and raised his arms. “Even though you’re only a kid people are starting to talk about you. I hope you can put up a good fight as they promise.”

Kyong raised his fists and spread his feet.

Then they started.

The fight was easy. Kyong avoided a punch once, then slipped to the left and avoided another and feinted. His opponent flinched, and Kyong traded his lead foot to twist himself around the larger body and swing at the back of his head.

He fell down to the ground with a thud and didn’t get back up.

“Winner, Tiger!”

People clapped, Lee Kyong shook his head and cleared his eyes. Late night air brushed against his face, he only just barely was warming up.

Kim Ga-ram raised his hand to control the crowd, they listened reluctantly and he motioned his arm.

“Next!”

An older man stepped out with greying hair. The crowd shouted at one another as they bet, and the money started to get passed to Kim Ga-ram.

“Start!”

Lee Kyong let out a soft breath and raised his fists.

He’d win this and stock their fridge full of food.

At the end he won against five opponents, more then he’d ever been challenged with. Despite the ease, a full-on brawl against so many different people tired him out. Sweat made his mask stick to his face, and he felt the strong urge to tear the hat off of his head so he could cool his head off.

Most of the crowd dispersed, a few stragglers kept glancing at him though. So, he quickly approached Kim Ga-ram before they tried to engage in conversation.

“Good job kid.” Kim Ga-Ram said with a cheerful voice. “Here.”

He offered a stack of money, some of the biggest Lee Kyong saw in his life. He nearly shook from shock as he grabbed it.

A hundred and fifty dollars.

He could buy so much food.

His stomach growled loudly, and a stab of painful hunger hit him like a truck. He forced himself to not react. He tilted his head in thanks to Kim Ga-ram and nearly sprinted away, then money held tightly in his hands.

The only store with food available open at this time was the shady convenience store. They didn’t offer fresh vegetables, but anything sounded good after fighting for so long. He darted into the store without a word, a clerk behind the desk barely had the chance to raise his head.

Kyong had enough sense to stuff his money in his pocket so no one in the store saw how much he had. He booked it to the refrigerated section and grabbed four dosirak. Premade lunches offered for purchase with rice, various proteins and vegetables. Then he grabbed a smoothie and two water bottles.

Thinking about drinking filtered water and eating a meal of real food made him antsy. He slammed the money on the counter for the clerk after the price was announced and darted off without a word.

A woman complained as he accidentally bumped into her. He ran as fast as he could to his apartment.

Ha-eun was no where to be seen.

Kyong barely allowed his butt to hit the floor before he started to shove food into his mouth and chug the smoothie down. Everything tasted so good he felt like he was in heaven.

 He woke up the next morning with far more energy than he had in a long time, looked at the clock and quickly got on his feet leave. A bottle of water and one dosirak left in the fridge for his mother.

He’d go shopping later today for more food. Right now, being at this training lesson with Suzuki-san was most important. The usual guards allowed him into the compound, and he jogged over to the Dojo.

Of course, Suzuki-san had already arrived, the older man showed his distaste toward the late arrival by immediately making him do fifty push-ups. Afterwards he ran around the compound until he hit two miles and started his routine. Standing at a punching bag and listening to the combo’s Suzuki-san ordered him to complete.

Now his body was fueled, Kyong felt a rush of energy after the practice. Suzuki-san filled him out on the things he needed to work on and then sent him away. Kyong obliged and made his way to the supermarket a few blocks away.

He bought frozen veggies to ensure they’d keep longer and an assortment of basic necessities. Rice and protein made up most of his list, in the end he still had around ninety dollars left.

Ha-eun sat on the floor of their apartment when he arrived and instantly noticed the groceries.

“Finally, you become of use for me.” She drawled, an old robe hung over her tight-fitting clothes she wore, a crop top and low riding pants. For her age and financial situation Ha-eun looked to be in near perfect condition.

With his sharp eyes he could see the way her bones protruded from her skin and the hallowed-out cheeks. Considering she was out for a few days straight he figured the last thing she thought of was eating.

“Hopefully this will last us a bit.” Kyong said, as he put away the groceries. “Try and make it last until I can get more money.”

“What did you get?”

“Veggies and meat, they’ll stay in the freezer to stop them from going bad. Just defrost them the day before you want to eat them.”

“You want me to cook?”

Lee Kyong stopped and stared at the carefully wrapped chicken in his hands. “Of course not. But when you do, just try and-“

“Sounds like you got useless food. Now I have to go out of my way to make something. Thanks. Next time pick easier meals for me.”

He watched Ha-eun get up and walk out of the living room, her face a bored mask mixed with some disappointment. She paused and stared at him for a moment at the doorway.

“You got bulkier but you’re still pretty, since you take after me you could probably find other jobs. I know a few customers who like little boys, it would bring in good money.”

She leered down at him with crinkled emerald eyes. Lee Kyong didn’t know how to respond, a trickle of dread ran down his spine, followed by anger.

“How…”

How could you say that to your own son?

Ha-eun tossed her hair and walked away, the door to her room shut loudly. He stared at it blindly for a minute, then put the chicken in the freezer. One breast remained in the fridge for tonight’s dinner, which sounded like would be his duty.

Lee Kyong tried to erase the conversation from his mind and cleaned up the house a bit. Then started on a quick dinner with the little cooking supplies they had to use. One pan and one pot with a spatula and a dulled knife. Ha-eun always preferred to warm up pre-made meals than cook so she never bought them much.

The smell of roasting chicken and veggies distracted him for a bit, eating them when everything was cooked erased the heavy feeling in his chest.

Finally nutritious food. If he wanted to get stronger so he could win for Boss, Kyong needed to eat as best as he could. Plus losing against an opponent during his evening fights was no longer an option.

If he could make 150 dollars for winning, what else could he do? Maybe start saving up to buy an apartment when he got older?

A small part of him thought of school, being around kids his age and doing homework. Going to college and getting a real job.

Perhaps available to him before, but now that he joined the Yakuza, going to school was out of the question. Not when teachers could learn about his position and potentially get them all in trouble.

Kyong focused on going back and forth between practice and his evening fights. The days blurred together and before he knew it winter fell across the city. Frost decorated the pavement, and the nights fell down to the twenties.

His evening fights slowed down until they stopped entirely.

Kim Ga-ram only shrugged when he questioned it during the last fight he had.

“You know how it goes kid, no one wants to freeze their asses off for a fight.”

And Kyong was left alone in the darkness with his ears and nose red from the cold.

No one wanted to watch him fight, but he wanted to fight. Their electricity bill was higher than usual thanks to the season change. Ha-eun stayed home more, used the heat without hesitation and ate most of their food. How would he be able to provide for them now?

They still had food, and a little bit of money left over so he tried to keep himself calm. He continued to go train with Suzuki-san, ate less and less food to save what they had. Everything became harder for him physically again.

This time Suzuki-san noticed.

“How much do you eat, kid?”

Lee Kyong paused and when Suzuki-san didn’t reprimand him decided the question was genuine.

“Today?”

“Yes.”

“A bowl of rice.”

Suzuki-san waited for more, and Kyong had nothing to offer. The older man huffed and muttered under his breath. Then spoke loudly.

“That’s what I thought, you’re a good fighter so I figured something else must be going on. Does your mom not buy you food or something?”

“Or something.”

Suzuki-san narrowed his eyes.

“Do you have a father around?”

“No.”

“I see. So, who provides you with food then?”

“Myself mostly.” Kyong replied softly. He couldn’t look Suzuki in the eyes. Surely the man would tell Nam Haneul how pathetic he was and they’d both laugh. He had no energy to deal with people like that right now.

“How?”

“…I get money by winning fights on the streets.” He admitted. “I thought everyone knew that considering Boss found me because of them.”

“I don’t think anyone realized that’s the only way you made money kid.” Suzuki-san snapped, though the anger was aimed elsewhere. He crossed his arms, and Kyong took a step back in case he tried to do something.

“Well, I do. But I can’t now because of the weather, so food is scarce at home.”

“Yes, the winter is always hard here. From the sounds of it your friends have struggled a bit too, but Boss sent them a few gifts to help. I don’t think he realized you also needed assistance.”

Kyong raised his head in surprise.

“Park Woong and the others got a present from boss?”

Suzuki-san nodded. “Yes. Boss did promise to protect them after all, he had some blankets, warm clothes and food sent to them for the time being.”

“That’s…”

Amazing.

Lee Kyong refused to let tears gather in his eyes, instead he bowed to Suzuki-san.

“Thank you so much. Please let boss know I’m indebt to him, and I’ll try my hardest to make him happy.”

What more could he ask for? All thanks to the man who blackmailed him into joining the Yakuza. Who would have thought Nam Haneul took their agreement so seriously?

Lee Kyong straightened from his bow and his lips turned up in a smile.

Everyone was safe and fed.

“You’re a surprisingly kind child despite that terrifying look you have on your face most the time.” Suzuki-san commented. “I’ll let boss know to send you some food as well, he won’t want his fighter to not be able to grow stronger after all.”

Right. Kyong was the boss’s fighter, the kid who would win for him in the future. Kyong needed to simply beat every single opponent. If he did that his friends could get even more gifts.

Adrenaline raced in his veins.

He’d win.

Being motivated to take part in training with Suzuki-san made the expereince a bit easier. That evening a box of food arrived full of things they’d never be able to afford. Ha-eun speculated about it but Kyong gave her no answers.

He focused on putting his all into learning what Suzuki-san had to offer and engrained it in his mind. His teacher was very experienced, and now that Kyong listened to what he said he realized Suzuki used to box as well. In a few short weeks Kyong grew more agile on his feet and hit harder. Food arrived for him frequently, so he only had to focus on paying bills.

Via Kim Ga-ram he found an alternative way to get money. Re-selling stolen items on the streets.

His growth spurt helped him make more sales than he thought. Most people barely paid attention to him outside of the Tiger beanie and mask. The clients were shady anyways so the last thing they cared about was his age.

Being eleven was weird for him. As he started to experience puberty again in a different body. This time he exercised so much his body grew in strange ways.

Yoon Taemin found him from time to time on the streets. Mostly alone, Park Woong somehow hadn’t found Kyong herself. He wondered if she also purposely avoided him.

“What have you been up to?” Taemin asked, as they walked down the quiet sidewalk together. He was bundled in a used jacket, long pants and boots with a red scarf. “I feel like it’s been ages.”

“Training mostly.” Lee Kyong replied. “Trying to stay warm.”

“I get that.” Yoon Taemin replied, each time he spoke a puff of visible breath escaped into the air. “Our hideout is pretty chilly because it doesn’t have electricity, so I’ve had to stay home more times then I’d like recently. Even though I hate living with that man.”

“You guys got sent blankets though, right?”

“Yeah. We all end up cuddling together when we hangout under the blankets. If it wasn’t for Park Woong’s grandfather, I don’t know how we would have survived.”

“Somehow she did.” Kyong said. “Park Wong seemed to be able to survive anything.”

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool. Kim Sook stays with her most of the time, the twins have been coming less and less because of the cold weather.”

“Aren’t they still dealing with the Loan Sharks?”

“They are.” Taemin replied. “Their father was beat pretty badly last week because he failed to pay them this month.”

“Are they okay?”

“For the most part. Their father went to the hospital and could barely afford the care he received.”

“Well, at least he survived.”

“That’s what I said. He’s a crappy person but at least their father cares enough not to hurt them. Their father is going to struggle real badly for money for a bit.”

“Sounds like it.”

They eventually settled on a bench overlooking the river that ran through their town. Lee Kyong pulled his hat down lower on his face and stuffed his hands into his jacket to stay warm.

He watched a few snowflakes fall from the sky quietly.

“So, my mom left.”

Kyong kept himself from reacting, his fingers curled into the palm of his hand. Still, he allowed Taemin to speak.

“When we talked last. Mother…left me. I remember her hand touching my head and then a goodbye. I woke up and father was destroying the house in a rage over her leaving, he seemed surprised I was still there.”

“He expected her to bring you.”

“Probably. I don’t blame her for not, she probably wanted to start over.”

“Yoon Taemin…”

Taemin shrugged.

“It’s okay. I was pretty hurt about it, but what made it even worse was I found Min Woojin’s apartment destroyed after that. He left without a word.”

Kyong leaned his head back with a loud sigh. Tried to imagine how many emotions Taemin experienced in one day. No wonder Yoon Taemin looked so bad when he saw him.

Maybe he should have urged Taemin to open up, he could have helped somehow. Offered comfort.

Lee Kyong felt selfish. Ha-eun still stayed around, he was watched over by the Yakuza and complaining about his life. When Taemin and the others struggled even worse.

“I’m sorry Yoon Taemin.”

“Don’t apologize Lee Kyong. For people like us life is hard. My asshole of a father doesn’t beat me as much after mom left, so I guess there’s a plus side. But she’s also not there to stop him so when he does, it can get bad.”

“Do you want to maybe live with me then?”

Taemin paused and sent him a look.

“What?”

Kyong turned his head away, a traitorous blush covered his face and he resisted the urge to cover it. What the hell. How did that sentence come out of his mouth was beyond him. Taemin was obviously completely thrown off by that idea.

Lee Kyong had nothing to offer by saying Yoon Taemin could live with him. What would his friend do, live with both him and Ha-eun? Ridiculous.

“Never mind.” Lee Kyong said quickly. “Forget it.”

Taemin snorted and then let out a big laugh. Kyong peered at him from the corner of his eye hesitantly.

“You’re a lot more soft then you like to admit huh?” Kyong blushed again, this time in full view of his friend. Yoon Taemin seemed to enjoy it. “Living with you doesn’t seem like a bad idea. Maybe when we get older, we can rent an apartment together.”

Kyong snapped his face to stare at him directly, Taemin grinned at him. Flakes of snow dotted his brown hair like stars. Lee Kyong couldn’t tear his eyes away from the soft look in Yoon Taemin’s eyes

“Really?”

“Yeah! It’s a promise. I wouldn’t want to live with anyone else but you Lee Kyong.”

Kyong had no idea what was happening to his heart but he wished it would calm down. He imagined the both of them in an apartment together for a moment. Away from the depressing slums they lived in, from the parents who leeched off of them.

“Then I’ll keep you to that promise.”

Perhaps the future wasn’t as dark as he anticipated.

Chapter Text

He fell into a black hole.

Arms wrapped around his mother, and she screamed, a pale hand reached out to him. He reached to take hers, heart pounding wildly. It wasn’t enough.

She was so scared; he could hear it in the tone of her voice. Someone had to save her.

“How could you?”

Crystal tears trailed down her face, and the world around him crumbled. Mother sat on the couch with her bones jutting out of her body, looking more like mere flesh over a skeleton. Cigarette smoke wafted in his nose as the neighbors yelled at each other.

“Aren’t you going to help me?”

He stared at her chapped lips, and he met her eyes.

Dull green stared back, surrounded by dark shadows from the nights she lost sleep to.

I’m sorry he tried to say, and no words came out.

“You’re just going to let me die then? Would you allow even your last family member to die without doing anything?”

His throat tightened, the walls closed in on him, he took a step back. She was right, what was he doing? His body refused to go forward, no matter how hard he tried. Like a filmed movie the scene changed and he was in a dark alleyway.

Piles of garbage reflected streetlights; he stared numbly at the body on the ground.

Ash brown hair splayed across the filthy pavement, too-pale skin peeking out of a form fitting dress that revealed a softly curved body. His eyes fell to a finely manicured hand and landed on the pit of her elbow.

Two distinct red marks, still fresh.

No

He fell to the ground, and gathered her into his lap. Hands shaking so hard, he almost couldn’t pick her up.

No no

Why was she just lying on the streets with the trash? She had to be alive right?

He sobbed and pulled her close, trying to find a pulse at her neck, and fumbled a bit with where his target was located. Mother couldn’t be dead. Where was her pulse?

Her eyes flashed open, and he froze.

Green eyes speckled with gold stared up at him, the same color he saw in the mirror every day, and not a single emotion passed through her gaze.

“You abandoned me.”

No, I’m working hard for us both. He choked, no noise came out. Why was his voice not working? If he didn’t fix it mother would think-

“Traitor.”

Kyong sat up with a gasp, turned and fell off his bed with a dull thud.

He couldn’t breathe, was he dying? God someone please help. He pressed his face to the carpet and sobbed out deep breaths. A loud fist slammed on the wall, and he jumped as the muted voice of the male mother brought home told him to be silent.

Kyong curled his fists and pressed his mouth closed. Then rode out the attack.

Nothing helped him ground, trying to find solutions and failing made the next attack even worse.

Five minutes felt like hours, but eventually his brain mellowed, and the fear dropped into a numb hole in his stomach. Sweat stained his night clothes and stuck his hair to his face as he stared up at the ceiling.

13 years passed since he woke up in this world. Would it ever get better?

Once he felt well enough, Kyong pushed up from the floor and headed to the kitchen. The refrigerator revealed fresh veggies, meats and healthy snacks, all provided by his Boss. He hated feeling indebted to a Yakuza Boss, but at least now they had food.

One less thing to worry about.

He chugged down a smoothie and then got dressed, walking on soft feet so as to not wake his mother up, and then left. Sunlight filtered through the buildings that surrounded them, casting a comforting warmth in the otherwise rundown area. One of the stores across the store got robbed so now they used a board to replace the glass, and random pieces of trash dotted the ground.

No one in sight though, he pulled his hoodie over his head to keep the morning chill out, and started to run. He rubbed his hands together and watched the frost along the road as it glimmered like a thousand diamonds.

Focusing on the steady beat of his feet against pavement, Kyong muted everything else out and stared at the sky ahead.

Suspicious store owners watched him pass, waiting for any signs of malicious intent, and he avoided the still sleeping body of one of the homeless in his path. Two women outfitted in tight-fitting dresses took deep drags of their cigarettes, sending white smoke curling into the air, and a gentleman in his car turned his head to track his journey.

Inhale and exhale, his lungs burned, and he embraced the struggle, pushed steadily onward, turned the corner and then a half-mile down turned left. A boy in a familiar uniform raised his head, and Kyong noted the high school emblem embroidered on the chest.

Going to school was beyond impossible, they barely had enough money to keep the power on, forget education. By some stroke of luck, he didn’t suffer because of his past life, but many others did.

Including Park Woong and the others. Though Taemin mentioned attempting to go a few times, Kyong knew he also struggled because his parents never tried to teach him anything. None of the adults had time to focus on anyone but themselves.

As he ran deeper into the city, a scream broke the silence.

Kyong slid to a stop and jerked his head toward the sound, chest heaving, and scanned the area. Instinctively he fell into a defensive stance in case the threat happened to prey upon him too.

Nothing, the neighborhood around him was a bit cleaner then his, but still made him antsy, he didn’t want to linger in strange places so far from home.

But someone had screamed, he swore he heard something-

“Help me! Someone-“

Cut off and muffled screaming, a male voice answered from the alleyway down and to the right.

“Be silent girl!”

Kyong darted toward the sound, faster than usual as his body quickly acclimated to the sudden burst of speed, and slid into the opening of the alley. A man jerked around to stare at him, face thin and teeth rotten, and Kyong met the terrified brown eyes of the victim.

Tears glimmered in her eyes, and his chest ached at the physical change of hope that lightened her fear.

Kyong lunged.

His fist impacted with the side of the mans face, and sent him flying to the ground, but no real satisfaction was gained from the act, as Kyong’s blood raced in his veins. White billows of smoke wafted out each breath he took. The girl shrunk against the wall as he turned to face the man, and he took a step forward, watching with sharp eyes as the man tried to get up.

Blood dripped from the side of his face, and Kyong sent a kick up to his stomach, the man cried out in pain.

Kyong nearly snarled as he planted his feet on the ground, glared at the curled-up form of the man on the ground. “You so much as attempt to touch another person like that again, I’ll kill you.”

Murder would be worth the jail time, he decided then, he curled and uncurled his fingers, and someone hiccuped behind him.

Kyong swung his gaze toward the noise, and the buzz in his head quieted.

Dark-brown hair turned a warm copper in the sunlight, as it framed wide eyes and a round face, something about her looked so familiar Kyong couldn’t help but stare.

She flinched when their gazes met, and then scrambled to stand. Flattening her skirt and attempting to remove the dirt stains on her expensive looking shirt. From the looks of it he saved a high schooler, maybe the school was nearby.

She refused to meet his gaze. “T-thank you.”

Kyong took and step forward and froze when she staggered back, and accepted the distance she wanted between them. “Are you okay?”

She sniffed and let out a half-sob, then nodded.

He shifted and racked his brain for something comforting to say. “Has he been following you for a while, or did he just attack?”

“…for a while.”

“Does he know where you live?”

The girl curled in on herself like a frightened turtle, and he realized belatedly, that his questions sounded more like an interrogation. She probably didn’t want a stranger drilling her after what just happened.

“Sorry.” He attempted to repair the non-existent relationship between them. “Do you need help with anything? Like and escort home…?”

Internally he winced, because now he sounded like a stalker.

“….se.”

“What?”

The girl spoke a bit louder. “Yes please.”

He tried to offer a comforting smile, though she probably didn’t see it, and forced himself to slouch. Maybe if he got smaller, the girl would be more comfortable.

She did seem to perk up a tiny bit, so he considered it a win.

“Well, I’ll follow you whenever you’re ready, miss. No rush.”

Her lips curled a little and she wiped her face. “Just call me Saiko.”

“Saiko-chan then. If it makes you comfortable you can call me Kyong. Nice to meet you.”

She nodded and then took in a shuddering breath, eyes darting to the unconscious form of her attacker, then they flitted around Kyong’s face. He waited patiently for her as she took him in, hands stuffed in the basketball shorts he wore.

Finally, she turned and started to walk, so he followed.

Her house was about a mile and half away, nothing a girl around 16 should be walking alone in this neighborhood. Especially with the police utterly ignoring them and the gangs wandering around.

Saiko stopped and he made sure to give her space as he did as well.

Her head turned toward him, and her hair hid her face from view.

“Thank you for saving me.”

Then she ran off, and he watched her long hair trail in the wind before she disappeared.

Well, that was it he guessed.

He returned to the neighborhood, drawn to the idea of making sure she was okay, maybe see her smiling with friends, and got pulled into more fights. It seemed the general population of the high school constantly had to deal with dangerous strangers, kids only just hitting puberty, the notion sickened him.

No one wanted to take care of it, so he did.

He smashed a hobo’s face into the wall when he tried to assault a young high school girl, stopped a robbery and got into a fistfight with a drunkard trying to hit on students.

They all fell at his feet and didn’t come back, especially when he began to patrol the area. Sometimes Suzuki-san, his trainer, would give him a strange look, as if the man knew what he was up to, but besides that no one made a fuss.  

Between training to fight, and involving himself in the matters of High School students, Kyong found himself little time to relax. Which was perfect. Now he had more reason to stay out of the house and try to erase the scent of cigarettes from his person.

His body hummed with constant energy, at one point he grew nearly three inches in one night, making most of his pants far too short. They still fit though, and helped protect the majority of his legs from winter.

If he happened to snag their money while doing so, well they deserved it.

Sometimes the people he fought carried weapons or landed hits on him that created bruises along his body, one man nearly carved his back with the blade of his knife open and Kyong had no choice but to ask Suzuki-san to help stitch it up.

“No one asked you to do this, kid, so stop it. Boss won’t like hearing you’re getting hurt.”

Kyong snorted and braced himself as the needle pierced through his skin, then pulled the string tight along his back. “I’ll be more careful I promise, no one wants the precious merchandise hurt, now do we?”

Suzuki-san sighed, and air brushed Kyong’s revealed back. “But you won’t stop.”

Kyong glared at the floor, and the image of Saiko’s terrified eyes flashed through his mind. “No.”

“Why do you do it?”

“Because I can.”

                                                                                ---

Suzuki Taro watched Kyong until the kid disappeared through the door, dark eyes locked on the broad shoulders and sharp stride, catching how sunlight turned ash-blonde hair a brilliant gold for a second.

Good thing Boss decided to protect the kid, the slavers would salivate over the opportunity to grab such an exotic looking body. He had been to a few auctions during his life, mostly to scope out a target, and the highest sellers looked like the boy he trained.

Yet despite his appearance, the child was terrifying.

Kyong going so far as to beat up others for the sake of protecting the weaker made sense, the child was trying to cope with his lack of control by creating it.

But it was causing a commotion on the streets.

Taro headed out of the training dojo and made his way to the main compound, a few of the younger members tilted their heads in acknowledgement as he passed, all with a massive tattoo on some part of their body, and weapons at their sides.

He stopped at thick set of doors and knocked.

“Enter.”

Guards stood at each side of the large table, where Nam Haneul with his greying red hair raised a head to greet him.

“If I’m seeing you, that means the training is done.”

“That’s correct.”

“How’s the kid doing?”

“Better fed now that we are providing him food, but still just as wild.”

Nam Haneul’s lips spread into a grin, and he laughed. “Yes, I hope that part never goes away, there’s something about the way he looks at people that makes your hair stand on end.” His eyes trailed to the painting of a ferocious tiger that hung on the wall.

Taro stared at it as well, at those brilliant green eyes.

“So, he’s still cleaning up the school district, huh?”

“Yes, and his body shows it. I had to stitch up a nasty cut on his back because he nearly got knifed today, the kid refused to go to the hospital because he can’t afford it.”

“Yes well, I acted the same when I was his age.” Haneul stared off into a memory Taro could not follow. “As long as his hobbies don’t interfere with training, I don’t mind that he’s finding other means to entertain himself.”

“He’s thirteen.” Taro caught himself before he could raise his tone. No matter how long he knew Haneul, the fact remained that the person before him was his boss. A person he respected above anyone else. “with no real guardian, and no form of education. It’s a miracle he seems to be some sort of genius, otherwise the kid would have been lost a long time ago.”

“He does stand out.” Hanuel agreed. “Like me! My red hair got me in so much trouble.” He let out a laugh.

“Yes, I remember how many times your father had to ground you for the fights you picked.” Taro replied dryly. “unlike you however, no one is protecting him. I’m afraid one day he’s going to get into a fight he won’t win.”

His boss let out a hum and steepled his fingers. “Yes, I see why you may be concerned. What would you like me to do? Have him stay with us?”

Taro opened his mouth, then paused.

“That probably would be the best idea, however I anticipate he may be a bit resistant.”

“Why? Didn’t you say he was near starved until we started to send him food?”

“Yes, but I think he’s taking care of someone important enough to refuse the offer” Taro replied. “Despite what I may think of the individual.”

Hanuel opened a drawer in his desk and pulled out a file, then opened it up, the first page was a series of pictures of Kyong, and he grabbed the white piece of paper Taro knew had carefully written notes on it.

Haneul took a moment to read through them. “Oh.”

Taro raised a brow.

“His mother is Ha-eun.”

The guards shifted.

“You mean that Ha-eun?”

“Yep.”

Taro rubbed the bridge of his nose. Great.

“You’re telling me, the granddaughter of one of the most infamous boxers known to Korea, lives in this neighborhood? How is that possible? She should be rolling in cash.”

“Maybe he really did die of a drug overdose.” Haneul mused and he lifted a picture of Kyong, tilting it as if the better angle would clarify everything. “I suppose it all makes sense now, and I have that talent all to myself.”

“Sir?”

Haneul’s eyes were edged with a darkness Taro felt intimately familiar with. The death they experienced required a toll, most of it spiritual, but scars still remained from the physical he endured.

“Let him do what he wants, for the time being I want to watch him for a bit, see how he handles the school district. If he continues to be successful, I may change my plans a little bit, especially considering his relation is to someone I used to look up to as teenager.”

Taro titled his head.

“Very well, sir.”

“Who knows, maybe he’ll end up being in my inner circle.” Haneul talked to the air now, eyes distant yet starved like a hungry predator. “And then we can remind people why they need to fear my wrath.”

Taro could already see the blood spilled.

Raising a child to join the Yakuza was not common, most required them to be at least 16 before attempting to teach the kid their ways. The small percentage that were allowed usually had family members who influenced their chance to be accepted, as the Yakuza cherished their family above all else.

Kyong had no idea, he suspected, how utterly unusual it was for a Yakuza to provide food without asking for payment. How the chains started to shorten as Hanuel learned more about him, even the streets whispered of the child.

Such was fate when you got entangled with their kind, the kid was doomed the moment he met Park Woong.

                                                                                                ---

“How dare you!”

Her claws dug into his scalp, yanked the sensitive areas until his whole head was in pain, then like a useless doll was thrown as far as he would go. He slammed into a corner of the table, and it bit mercilessly into his temple, then he fell to the ground.

Hot wetness trailed down and dripped off his brow, he stared at the tiled floor without seeing it, ears ringing. His vision blurred.

Heels clicked around him.

“After everything I do for you, all that I get in thanks is you trying to seduce my client to your bed?! You Whore!”

Kyong trembled as he tried to stand up, and his mother swung back toward him.

“You’ve been a waste of my space this whole time, doing nothing, paying for nothing, why are you even here?”

Kyong let out a shaking breath, and something in his gut twisted at her words, because he had been trying so hard to get them money. Stealing and selling stolen items only helped so much, made maybe twenty bucks a day, winter always emptied his pockets since no one wanted to watch him fight while freezing.

“I’m sorry mother.” He said softly. “I woke up and he was just there.”

Click click click

A foot stopped by his face, and he looked up at his mother through his bangs.

She sneered and it contorted her into something more monster than human. “Likely story, I saw you lying below him, just waiting for it, I know that act, do you think I wouldn’t?”

No, he woke up to the creep hovering over, and then punched him without thinking. He remembered how the flesh crunched under his fist, and the man shouting at him as he walked out of the apartment.

“I’m sorry.”

“You should be! After what I’ve done for you, I’m your mother! But I know you don’t care about that, you’re just as cold-hearted as your father! Leaving me here with nothing. I know you’re going to abandon me too! Slut! I won’t allow you to ruin my job!”

Her words were too much, jumbled in a familiar way that created a heavy uneasiness in his gut.

He darted his eyes for the drugs, the guy must have given them to her.

Ha-eun grabbed his hair again, and he winced, and tried to ease the pain, she twisted his body so he kneeled in front of her with too much emphasis on his back.

“Are you listening to me Kyong?!” She screamed. “No one ever does, of course you’re not. I bet you think I’m crazy too!”

Kyong detached himself, that was all he could do in her wrath, and she continued to scream.

The words still hurt, and a part of him processed the curses she spat out at him and the accusations, but right now his ears blocked it all out. When he slept the words would add themselves into the empty void that liked to speak through his nightmares.

Mother lost interest when he stopped fighting back, and he gracefully accepted her cold shoulder as she strutted back into her room. The door slammed behind her, and he stared at the ceiling.

Kyong pushed himself up and left.

Fresh winter air brushed against his cheeks, and he walked to the nearby playground to sit himself on the only swing still working.

Then he just stared at footprints in the snow from the previous visitors, and a red dot fell down to stain a small portion red.

He blinked.

Right, he was hurt.

Out here the walls couldn’t close in on him, and the cold reminded him of his current existence in the world. Of how the outside world around his apartment existed, with new people to meet and sun to bathe in.

His mother was not the ultimate decider of his fate, he needed to remember that.

Yet her words were still burned into his mind.

Did she ever love him?

He wanted to cry, and his head pounded from the screaming and rough treatment.

“Kyong?”

He peered up through his hair and stared at Taemin who stood across from him, stopped midstride as their eyes met.

When was the last time he saw Taemin again? He couldn’t remember.

“Taemin.”

Taemin rushed up to him, and Kyong flinched as his hands reached to touch his face.

His heart began a thud in response to the potential threat, and Taemin stilled. Then more slowly, like he sensed Kyong’s panic, soft hands settled underneath his jaw and lifted his head up.

“You’re hurt.”

Kyong watched Taemin from the corner of his eye, muscles drawn tight, his fingers tightened along the chains of his swing.

“Yeah.”

“Your mom?”

“Yeah.”

Taemin sighed and pulled his long sleeve over his hand and started to clean Kyong’s face of blood. “It’s not bleeding very bad anymore, but you’ll still need to keep it clean, do you have any sort of first aid at home?”

“Wrappings.”

“That will have to do then. I can come with-“

“NO!”

Kyong jerked back and jumped off the swing and walked in a half circle, he took a few purposeful breaths in a and out to try and stay calm. Just imagining Taemin interacting with his mother-

He shook his head, no.

“Okay, that’s fine, Kyong hey, look at me.”

Kyong halted at the soft voice, then looked at Taemin.

The expression on his face made guilt twist coldly in his stomach, another person troubled by his problems.

Mother was right, he was a waste of space.

Nothing.

Taemin grabbed his hand, and Kyong was lured back out of the spiral of thoughts at the sensation. Taemin stood as tall as him now, and gained more muscle as he fought his way through the streets just as hard.

Right now though, his caramel-brown gaze was all too understanding.

Kyong found himself trying not to drown in the way Taemin’s sheer presence washed over him.

“There you go, see? It’s going to be okay.”

Taemin patted his head, and Kyong leaned close, his eyes were heavy.

“Let’s go to Park Woong, the junkyard is not much warmer but we have blankets there, and food now thanks to you. I’d rather you go there then try and return to that woman.”

Kyong nodded.

“I think it’s perfect timing actually, to see Park Woong, maybe you two can make up.”

“She’s too stubborn.” Kyong replied dryly.

Taemin huffed out a laugh.

“So are you, idiot. Come on, let’s go.”

Chapter Text

“Took you long enough to come back!”

Park Woong glared at him with her hands on her hips, and Kyong’s lips twitched in a ghost of a smile. Memories of when they first met flooded his mind, as well as reminiscent nostalgia of the days spent lounging in the junk yard with the rest of the group.

No real anger filled Park Woong’s eyes, and he observed the small changes in her appearance from the few years apart. She stood taller, with more muscle, and a still developing body, rough around the edges from years of striving in the streets to survive. Kim Sook appeared the most put together out of all of them, with her silken dark hair and sharp eyes. While the twins changed in similar ways to him and Taemin, both height and weight wise.

“I’m back, sorry for the wait, nonna.” Kyong replied.

Park Woong huffed and crossed her arms. “Don’t apologize, I’m the one who messed things up by not revealing who I was related to. I’m the one who is sorry, idiot.”

His heart softened at the apologetic tone.

“Park Woong really missed you.” Kim Sook stated calmly. “She cried a lot.”

Park Woong’s face turned the exact shade of her hair. “Kim Sook!”

Taemin rolled his eyes and pushed Kyong further into their shabby hybrid living and bedroom. Better quality sleeping arrangements were set up, an inflatable bed and blankets without holes, presumably from Nam Hanuel keeping his word, and taking care of Kyong’s friends.

A sense of satisfaction curled in his gut at the sight, he did something right for once.

“Let him through so I can clean up his wound.” Taemin grabbed Kyong gently by the wrist and sat him down on the couch.

“Who did that to ya?” Park Woong asked as she followed them, dark eyes narrowed in anger.

“Who do you think?” Taemin rummaged through one of the boxes by the wall and pulled out a packet of gauze, Kyong watched him silently as he started to work diligently to clean the wound. “His mother was in a bad mood.”

“Bitch.”

Taemin snorted.

“You should just live with us,” She continued. “We have 'nough resources to support 'nother mouth, in fact, why don’t both you and Yoon Taemin stay here?”

Taemin met Kyong’s gaze as he finished up, then stood up straight. “We’ll manage, what other choice do we have? As much as the idea sounds nice, more children living here will draw attention.”

Kim Sook spoke up. “Taemin is right, more people have been going missing recently as well, Lee Kyong may be safer where he’s at then living here right now.”

“Like hell he is!” Park Woong snapped. “Look at 'im! Yoon Taemin and Lee Kyong always come back with bruises! At least here they won’t be endangered by the people they live with!”

“It’s fine, Noona.” Kyong said, and everyone turned to look at him. “Like Taemin said, we’ll manage.”

Less then pleased Park Woong huffed and turned away as she grumbled to herself.

No one wanted to live the way they did, scavenging for food and being hurt by those who were meant to care for them. All they could do was figure out how to survive with what fate offered and hope for the best. Park Woong and the rest had only lived once, because of that, he understood their immaturity. However, the stark contrast of his inner thoughts to Park Woong’s insistence on helping made the numb hole in his chest all that much more obvious.

Suddenly his body felt heavy, and Kyong leaned his head against the couch as they all continued to chat around him.

At least he was around people he trusted.

All he wanted to do was sleep.

“Kyong.”

He startled, and met Taemin’s light brown eyes. Park Woong and Kim Sook were going back and forth about Kyong staying or not, while the twins watched silently but with obvious interest.

“Sorry.” Kyong sat up and ran a hand through his hair. “I’m good.”

He forced himself into a stand and rolled his aching shoulders.

“So, since we’re all here again, who wants to go on a run?” Park Woong asked loudly.

“I’m down.” Kyong replied, and Park Woong’s face broke out into a grin.

“After what just happened?” Taemin asked, he looked Kyong up and down then crossed his arms. “It’s not like we need to try and steal anymore, thanks to Kyong taking responsibility of us. Maybe we should find other things to do.”

“It has been a while since we all went on a run together.” Ji-ho commented, and his brother nodded in agreement. “It might be nice.”

Taemin looked hesitant.

Park Woong noted it as well and walked over to place a comforting hand on Taemin’s shoulder. “Don’t worry Taemin! You’ve gone on a run before all bruised up, in fact all of us have at least once. Kyong can handle it. Let’s go on this run for old times sake.”

“Park Woong’s birthday is a few weeks away, so maybe we can plan it for then.” Kim Sook said.

Park Woong blushed.

“Kim Sook, I told you not to tell anyone!”

Kim Sook remained impassive as always, but Kyong swore she was trying not to smile.

“Oops.”

Taemin sighed.

“If it’s for Park Woong’s birthday, I can’t say no.”

This was good, Kyong decided, as they all started to plan the run. Taemin had a point, a small part of Kyong really didn’t want to go on a run, not when they were slowly getting old enough to be arrested. The other part, much louder in his psyche, rallied to feel the adrenaline rush of getting away with stealing, grabbing food that always seemed to taunt him on the shelves, the laughter of his friends as they all ran away.

Around nine o’clock he went home and found it empty, welcomed the silence and fell asleep on his bed. Around In the morning he trained with Suzuki-san, then headed to the junk yard, and lured Park Woong into a sparring session.

She crossed her arms, dressed in Jacket and pants that actually fit her, and Kyong’s heart softened at the image. In fact, they all had clothes with no holes on, which in turn allowed them to better survive the winter. All of this was because he went along with Haneul’s offer, the more evidence he found, the more Kyong felt certain of his agreement to join the Yakuza.

If his friends continued to flourish in this hellscape of a town, he’d even sign a contract with the devil.

“Don’t think because you work with the Yakuza you’ll defeat me easily, Lee Kyong.”

Kyong smiled. “I would never assume such a thing.”

“I’m sparing next, so don’t beat each other up too badly! And don’t get hurt please!” Yoon Taemin shouted from the sidelines.

Park Woong rolled her eyes.

“He’s always such a mother hen.” She drawled as Kyong finished stretching. “In another life he’d make a great doctor.”

Kyong huffed out a soft laugh, and he squared himself off with her. His own jacket tossed to the side so his body would stay on the cooler side. Right now cold bit at his skin, but in a few minutes the spar would make his blood race fast enough he’d generate enough heat to over come the chill. “Dr. Yoon Taemin, I could see that.”

In another life…

When he died in this one, would he be reborn again? Kyong mused, as Park Woong fell into her own stance. Would he be reborn in the same world as his friends?

Just imagining starting all over again proved to be too much.

Kyong pushed the anxiety down, and focused on the Thrill in the back of his mind. Park Woong seemed to notice the change, because she became serious as well. Kyong had no idea who acted first, as he blocked one of her punches and sidestepped another.

He kept a sharp gaze on her movements as he defended himself, how she still preferred her right hand to the left, and kicked out her left leg after a three set combo of punches. Unlike the first time they sparred, he found himself easily able to keep up with her.

This was…too easy.

No.

He dug into the Thrill, and tried to force the usual rush wash over him. Kyong sprang forward, and Park Woong’s eyes widened. All he needed to do was try, and then Park Woong would become harder to defeat as she grew motivated to fight harder as well.

Yet she fell to the ground with a muted thump and Lee Kyong found himself starting down into her surprised eyes.

“Holy shit.” Taemin breathed out. “Lee Kyong, what sort of training have they been putting you through?”

“I don’t know if I could explain it properly.” Kyong admitted. “Just general fitness I guess?”

Park Woong pressed her lips and then pushed off the ground. “Whatever, that was just good luck.”

“Lee Kyong has always been a talented fighter.” Kim Sook stated blandly. “Of course, he’s only going to get stronger if he practices. Especially since a member of the Yakuza is specifically training him to win.”

Fighting strangers on the streets by the High School also probably helped, not that he ever intended to admit to the group his…hobbies.

“My turn!” Taemin threw off his jacket and Park Woong grumbled as she went over to Kim Sook to pout. Rather then seem intimidated, Taemin’s eyes nearly shone caramel in the afternoon sun.

Being closer to his size and weight, if Taemin had been training this whole time, Kyong anticipated a bit of a challenge. Clearly, he could remember how ferocious Taemin had fought in the past when they sparred.

Taemin struck first, and Kyong began to weave through his attack, watching Taemin closely. Everyone had their tells, he just needed enough time to-

A fist grazed the side of his face, and Kyong refocused on Taemin’s determined glower.

Taemin did not let up as he continued to attack, feet nearly floating over the ground, as opposed to Kyong who beat a heavy rhythm against the earth. Kyong found himself attacking more then defending, as a warm Thrill made his skin vibrate. His breath came out harsher, and a bead of sweat trailed down the side of his face. Kyong swung his arm into a jab, a cross which Taemin pushed aside, ducked a right hook, and followed with a lead hook toward Taemin’s face. Steam wafted off their bodies visibly, this was what Kyong needed. 

Kyong pushed himself harder, the Thrill sang to him in delight, and his body allowed him to fight faster.

A moment later, Taemin slipped through his defense, and his fist swung up into an uppercut, Kyong grinned. He grabbed the arm and pulled Taemin closer, wrapped a leg around Taemin’s calf and threw his right hand into a powerful punch. Only for it to stop inches away from crushing Taemin’s nose.

Taemin squinted his eyes open.

“I win.” Kyong stated.

“Yeah, I give in.”

Kyong let him go and they both took a moment to calm down as they heaved out great breaths of air.

“Though I hate to admit it, Kim Sook is right.” Park Woong said. “You’ve gotten ridiculously strong, but Yoon Taemin is pretty talented too. It looks like our group got lucky and picked two genius’s to join us.”

“I wouldn’t say I’m a genius.” Kyong replied.

“Same.” Taemin rubbed the back of his head. “I just react, there isn’t much thought into fighting for me.”

“Which is why you’re both geniuses, for most of us, that level of skill I just witnessed is unobtainable. Don’t underestimate yourselves, your both very talented.”

Kyong and Taemin exchanged glances.

“All the better though! Now we definitely can get away if people try and mess with us!”

A week or so later, they all met up four blocks away from the store Park Woong decided to target.

“I can’t wait until spring comes back.” Park Woong commented. “Winter is always so annoying and cold!”

“A few more weeks, then the temperature will start to warm up.” Kim Sook replied. “March is usually when spring arrives in Korea.”

“I forgot you paid attention to the calendar.”

“Someone has to.”

Around half a block away, Park Woong stopped them so she could peer around the corner. Then she turned back to them.

“So, the owner only has two employees hired currently, neither of them arrive before eleven, so he runs the store by himself until then. Which is the perfect time for us to strike.”

“Does he have a weapon?” Ji-ho asked.

“A bat.”

“That’s it?”

Park Woong shrugged. “As far as I can see. Everyone carries something in these parts, he might have a gun stashed somewhere.”

“What do we want to take then?” Kyong asked.

“Chocolate.”

“This is an insane way to celebrate a birthday.” Taemin muttered.

Chocolate, a delicacy on meant for the most special of times. Being non-necessary they tried to avoid sugar, unless of course, requested by someone for their birthday.

“Ji-ho and Ju-Won will be our eyes on the public.” Park Woong motioned toward the streets. “Let us know when someone is coming in, and keep an eye on the owner.”

The twins nodded.

“Kim Sook, you and Yoon Taemin are skipping school together and want to try and talk the owner into allowing you to buy cigarettes. Tease him a bit, do whatever you need to make sure he’s not paying attention to me. I want you to leave after ten minutes, then Kyong will walk in.”

They nodded.

“And Lee Kyong when you walk in, Kim Sook and Yoon Taemin will leave, and you are going to try and buy some chips, then realize you don’t know where your money is. By then I hopefully will have slipped out with the chocolate.”

Park Woong took a few minutes to answer the questions they asked before they started the run.

Ji-ho placed himself against the wall of the shop building, and Ju-Won sat across the road on a bench, leaning on it in a way that resembled the many homeless around their town. Inside the shop, Park Woong slipped into the store behind Yoon Taemin and Kim Sook as they entered.

Lee Kyong kept himself alert as he waited in a nearby alley for the signal to head to the store.

At any moment they might get caught. What would happen then? Would child services finally be notified of the horrific environment and try to take them away? Or maybe they’d get taken by the police, and the image of his mother hearing from them what Kyong got caught doing was a horrifying thought.

His mother already had trouble emotionally regulating herself, he couldn’t imagine how she’d react to the police visiting their apartment.

Around thirty or so minutes later, a trilling whistle notified him it was time. He rounded the corner, hands in his pockets, just as a man dressed in a dark suit approached the entry way of the store from the other side. Shining black shoes tapping against the cracked pavement.

Dark tattoos covered the neck revealed some sort of Japanese traditional tattoo.

Kyong forced himself not to react, and slipped in first, heart thundering in his chest.

Shit.

That guy had to be dangerous.

His instincts told him to push onward and make sure Park Woong didn’t get hurt, Kyong scanned the store desperately for red hair as he walked up to the counter.

“Welcome! How can I help you?”

A bell rang, and Kyong watched as his face visibly paled. Immediately his attention was ripped away as the dark-haired stranger arrived at the counter as well.

“I-it’s you! I-I need m-more time, p-please just one m-more day! I-I’m so c-close to having a-all t-the m-money I owe you!”

Hair rising along his arms, Kyong looked down to the ground, and started back slowly as the stranger spoke. Hopeful the man was utterly disinterested in him.

He needed to find Park Woong and get her out of here.

“Boss has already given you more than enough time, the contract was very clear in our requirements for you to receive a loan, and you’ve well passed that. We’re not some sort of bank you can shmooze money from.”

This was bad.

Kyong was allowed to slip away, and he darted to the end of the store, pulling his hoodie further over his head as he looked around for Park Woong. To his right he noticed her crouched at  the end of the chip section behind an end cap. He crouched behind his own end cap, the isle directly beside her, and she raised her head to look into his eyes. In one hand she gripped a bar of chocolate.

The serious edge mixed with true fear made his own rise in response.

“I-I n-never t-thought s-such a-a t-thing a-about t-the l-loan! I-I s-swear i-it.”

Kyong took a deep breath and then darted to Park Woong, cloth rustled and then someone screamed out in pain. A crack of bone caused Park Woong to start shivering as she stared in alarm at Kyong.

She was only turning fourteen. He recalled suddenly, and a wash of empathy threatened to make him cry. Kyong forced himself to push it down, and centered his mind. Park Woong was in no state to try and think clearly.

He needed to get her out.

The owner sobbed loudly, a wail making them wince cut through the air.

“We don’t take lending our money lightly.” The other man growled. Kyong pulled Park Woong along as he walked slowly to the door. Only a few feet away, truly nothing that took more then a few seconds to cross, now felt like miles thanks to the buzz of his anxiety.

He risked a glance at the scene.

Slumped over the counter, the owners face was a contorted mass of agony as his offender held his oddly bend arm with one hand. Nothing was out of place, not even a hair on the mans head, as he pressed the owner’s head painfully with a large palm. Already a bruise formed where the breakage had happened, and a shiver rolled down Kyong’s spine.

“I suggest selling everything you own by sundown tonight to make up for the money you still owe, or Bak Ji-Min will personally be visiting to collect. He’s far less merciful then I am mister, so I’d try my hardest to do as I instruct.”

“I understand!” The owner wailed through a red face of snot and tears. “Please, just let my arm go, I’ll do what ever you ask Park Joon!”

Park Joon’s face remained stone cold as he dripped the appendage, and Kyong’s heart skipped a beat as their eyes met for a moment. Dark eyes, like the cloudless night sky stared him down.

Kyong rushed he and Park Woong out, and the door rang behind them as their feet pounded against the ground. The tattoo on Park Joon’s neck was the open mouth of a dragon, he was certain of it though the rest of his body was covered in clothing.

Did another Yakuza group roam around these parts? How did he not know?

“Lee Kyong stop!” Park Woong shouted. “I can’t run anymore!”

Lee Kyong halted immediately, and she huffed out gasping breathes as she recovered. Then she wiped her brow. “Thank you for getting me out of there, Kyong, I can’t believe we nearly got involved in a collection.”

“We need to be careful now.” Kyong replied, and he noted the approaching figures of their friends. “The gangster saw us.”

“Maybe he knows about the disappearing people on the streets.”

“Kim Sook mentioned that before, what’s happening that making people disappear?”

“An uptick in human trafficking if I were to guess, whatever the reason people are vanishing, especially young females. It’s been increasing since you and I met my grandfather.”

Lee Kyong frowned. “That sounds dangerous Noona, maybe you should try and stop making runs from now on, you and Kim Sook might be in danger if females are targets.”

“We’ve always been in danger.” She contested. And Kim Sook was the first to arrive, a few strands of her hair out of place in the rush to get to them. “As a male you’d never understand.”

Lee Kyong opened his mouth to reply, but Yoon Taemin rushed in and wrapped him in a hug.

“I’m so glad you’re okay!”

Kyong grunted in surprise. “Taemin?”

“As soon as I saw that gangster enter I wanted to help you, but Kim Sook and the Twins stopped me, I thought he was going to kill you both!”

“He has no reason to Taemin, he was just there to collect.”

“Both of you are important to Nam Haneul, what if he learned about how important?! He had a gun, I’d be too late to save you if you got shot.”

Taemin had a point, and Kyong contemplated the statement as he allowed Taemin to crowd him.

“Agreed.” Kim Sook said, as she took in them both, her small hands started to fix the stray pieces of hair on her head. “We can’t be so risky ever again, with Nam Haneul providing for us, lets make this the last run we do.”

“You want to depend on him?” Park Woong snapped. “A Yakuza boss? He wouldn’t care if all of us got shot, and he’d take everything away from us with no hesitation. Why should I even consider that?”

Kim Sook looked at Kyong. “Nam Haneul made a promise, right? To provide for us?”

Kyong nodded. “Yes, as long as I win for him.”

“Then we don’t have to worry about him taking anything back, it’s been a few years now since this agreement started, if he intended to retract his help, I think he would have done so already.”

Park Woong pressed her lips and crossed her arms. “I don’t trust him.”

“Then trust me.” Kyong replied, and she visibly reacted as her arms loosened and eyes grew wide. “I’m going to make sure he keeps his end of the bargain by winning, so you don’t steal anymore. None of you will have to, because I’ll protect you.”

They all stared at him.

Park Woong turned away sharply, and wiped at her face. “Don’t just say things like that, idiot.”

He blinked.

Taemin laughed and even Kim Sook’s lips twitched.

“You sounded like a hero just then.” Ji-ho spoke. “How did you turn out to be so cool, Lee Kyong?”

Ju-Won nodded his agreement.

“I’m not certain I understand.” He admitted. “Does this mean you’ll stop stealing?”

“Yes.” Park Woong snapped, though not in a harsh way, more like her throat was clogged. Maybe she felt unwell, he hoped not. “I’ll stop, but you have to keep coming to visit us, and teach us how to read and write properly.”

“I’ll help.” Kim Sook chirped. Sounding truly excited.

“I thought you would volunteer.” They all followed Park Woong as she headed back to their place. Then she raised a hand, drawing attention to the bar of chocolate in her hand. “Whoever takes part can share some of my chocolate.”

Kyong felt a smile warm his face.

The rest of the day they allowed Park Woong to chose other activities for them to do, and roamed the streets. Climbing fire escapes, fences and walls as they practiced their maneuvers she taught them so long ago.

Later on he and Kim Sook talked about what to teach the others, and he learned what to expect from his friends. No one was completely incapable of reading or writing, as they learned through life experience, and Kim Sook took her time to sit with any who asked for help. Her natural tendency to learn quickly, and desire to teach made the session go smoothly.

Afterwards they planned for the future sessions, and Yoon Taemin revealed he found a job who was going to pay him under the table until he turned fifteen. A dirty, but popular, bar that was in need of a proper dishwasher and bus boy.

Kyong did not feel surprised, Taemin already looked fifteen, not that anyone truly cared if a child worked at a bar. Most would probably barely notice Taemin was there at all thanks to the alcohol.

When the time for sunset came, they climbed a familiar building using the techniques Park Woong taught them so long ago, and sat along the edge as the sky turned shades of violet and orange.

“Happy Birthday, Park Woong!” They shouted and she snorted in laughter, sunlight turning her hair a rich crimson.

“Thanks guys, you’re the best.”

Lee Kyong split up with them when the night finally took over and darkened the streets, waving goodbye as he headed back home. His feet felt lighter, and his skin flush with cheer. Despite the initial hiccup with the store, the rest of the day went smoothly.

He found mother on the floor with what looked like half of their refrigerator strewn across the apartment and tried to remain positive. Too warm milk, eggs and a half-cooked breast of kitchen left to cool then forgotten.

All trash.

Kyong forced himself to focus on cleaning up, rather then what he had to get rid of, to ease the twist of anxiety at the waste.

What if they ran out? How was he going to tell boss his mother acted so carelessly and they needed more?

No.

He refused to. Boss surely would look down on him for being so incapable of appreciating his help. They still had plenty of food, he’d just have to portion himself down so mother wouldn’t complain about finding nothing to eat.

Kyong fell into an uneasy sleep and started up a routine of training with Suzuki-san until the afternoon and meeting up with Park Woong and rest in the latter part of the day. While early in the morning, close to five AM, he still took a run through the high school neighborhood he adopted as his own territory.

Time with Park Woong usually ended in him teaching them basic math and reading skills, when no teaching, he sparred with whoever needed the practice, each task offering him a chance to forget what laid in wait for him at home.

Mother was on some sort of drug, he could tell, and her rages got worse. As did the crash when she laid on the couch and pleaded to be taken care of.

Each time he relented, as her wide green eyes looked at him with such helplessness.

Ha-Eun needed him.

Slowly spring started arrive as buds grew on the trees, and the days stretched on longer. He woke up one day to the sounds of bird song, and knew then that warmer days were near. Each morning run felt a bit easier then the last on his body as he no longer needed to combat the freezing temperatures.

A week later he finished up training with Suzuki-san and arrived at the Junk yard, only to find a too-serious Yoon Taemin and Kim Sook.

He looked around the area for any signs of Park Woong, and tried to stay calm when he didn’t spot her.

“Where is she?”

“Taken.” Kim Sook whispered. “This morning, as she was walking with me.”

She curled up tighter into a ball on the ground, and Kyong’s chest clenched. Though no visible tears were shed, the dark edge in her normally monotone gaze told him everything he needed to know.

Ji-Ho and Ju-Won hovered over her protectively.

Kyong turned to Taemin.

Taemin glared off to the side, refusing to meet his gaze with hands balled up at his side. “I didn’t know about it until a few hours later, when Kim Sook found me at my job. I’m sorry Kyong, I wasn’t able to do anything.”

“Do we know who took her?”

Kim Sook drew in a deep and shaky breath, he could see purple marks around her wrists peeking out from the hoodie she wore.

“Yes. The human traffickers that have been snatching women off the streets, they ambushed me and Park Woong. She…” Kim Sook’s fingers dug into her legs. “She protected me, drew attention so I could leave, and of course it worked. She’s like a brilliant star in these streets.”

“We need to get her back then.” Kyong said. “If I ask Nam Haneul, maybe he’ll offer to help us. He is her grandfather after all.”

Taemin sighed. “You’re probably right, but Lee Kyong, if he asks for another agreement, maybe you should reconsider…”

“I’ll gladly accept anything he has to offer. Park Woong is someone precious to us, I won’t leave her alone.”

Lee Kyong straightened and turned away, he started a brisk walk back toward where he came.

“Lee Kyong!” Taemin shouted. “Wait! We never agreed, let’s talk this out more before you do anything rash!”

Yoon Taemin was a caring person, to want to try and solve the issue another way. Which was why Lee Kyong had to approach Nam Haneul directly. Because out of everyone, a Yazkua boss would be the person to know where a human trafficking ring was.

Better to sacrifice only one person, than their whole group. Yoon Taemin, Kim Sook and the twins could still be safe while Kyong saved Park Woong.

And he’d pay the price willingly.

“So she’s been taken by human traffickers?”

Lee Kyong nodded, and watched as Nam Haeul leaned against his office chair, inhaling a cigarette as he stared at the ceiling. A plume of smoke wafted out of his mouth as he exhaled.

“Who runs the ring here Han Ji?”

Han Ji, a personal guard Nam Haneul picked personally, with a scar down his face answered. A near giant of a man as he stood by the door of the large office, arms folded politely behind his back. “Lee Do-Yoon, affiliated with Bak Ji-Min who is the current boss of the Yakuza group we’ve been getting to tussles with recently.”

Nam Haneul hummed. “So the white-haired brat is the reason, annoying, once he sees her hair color he’s going to know she’s related to me. Which means we’ll be getting call to offer her up for ransom.”

“You can buy her though, right?” Kyong replied, nearly desperate. “She’s related to you, so that must mean something.”

Nam Haneul raised a brow. “Why would that mean anything?”

Kyong felt like he was slipping, his heart dropped at the serious tone Nam Haneul used. No glimmer of amusement to indicate he joked around.

“She’s your granddaughter…”

“So?”

Kyong had nothing to say, he though blood relation alone would motivate the Yakuza boss to act.

“Horrible things happen to people like her who are trafficked. Do you not care what happens to her?!” Kyong snapped, as anger sparked. No one desired to help others in this world, especially not Yakuza bosses that already dabbled in the darker aspects of life. How could he be so foolish as to think Nam Haneul cared enough to try and save a child from a human trafficking ring? He berated himself internally, and it only added to the rage in his gut.

“She has nothing to do with me.”

Kyong froze.

Nam Haneul took his cigarette out of his mouth and looked Kyong dead in the eye. Rather then a mask of amusement he preferred, Nam Haneul offered Kyong an expression of utter boredom.

Park Woong was nothing to him.

“Right.”

Kyong looked down, his shoulders relaxed and he stared at the ground.

“I have no intention of acting, so I will expect you to leave the situation be.” Nam Haneul said into the tense room. “You have no idea what sort of man you’d be messing with if you try something,  Bak Ji-Min is one of the most ruthless people in Korea, even in Yakuza standards. Let your friend go, and focus on your goal to fight for me.”

Kyong nodded.

“Of course, sir.”

Nam Haneul cocked his head, and watched with sharp brown eyes for a moment. Then he turned around in his office chair to stare at something behind him.

“You are dismissed.”

Kyong obediently slipped out and stood in the hallway for a moment as the conversation raced through his head.

Just let Park Woong go?

No. He refused.

Taking steady breaths, Kyong relished in the raging fire of determination that warmed his entire body.

Bak Ji-Min. He knew at least one person who had interacted with a man of that name, the store owner from the last run he went on with Park Woong.

Scrambling back the man was no better then a fish flailing against the earth, unable to cross the dirty ground of the alley floor as the boy above him loomed. Shadows cast along his face, enhancing brilliant emerald eyes that stared into his very soul from between golden bangs.

No child should be able to look so deadly, he gulped in nervousness as he remembered the Yakuza he got entangled with.

Was this kid part of the group? What else did they want from him? He had nothing left to give.

“You met Bak Ji-Min somehow, I know you did, so don’t try and play dumb with me.”

“Fine!” He wailed, his arm throbbed, reminding him he barely afforded the pain pills the doctors gave him after they did their best to tend to the broken bone. So easily snapped with a single jerk of a hand. “Just don’t hurt me!”

He couldn’t take more bones breaking, the pain was too great.

“I met him at the Ring, yes… the auction they have to sell off potential slaves of various types. I don’t know where he lives though, I promise!”

The kid’s eyes narrowed, and he shivered.

Absolutely terrifying, was this kid even real?!

“Where is the Ring?”

“It’s definitely impossible for someone like you to go!” He protested. “They’d rather take you in as merchandise to sell, then a potential buyer! Trying would be foolish!”

Not that he cared, since the kid was obviously a bully, yet he couldn’t stop and admonish the kid for trying something so rash.

A foot slammed into the wall beside his head, and he cried out in alarm. His ears rang and he covered his head. Shadows shifted over his body, and the keen sensation of being too close prickled along his skin.

He risked a glimpse of bared teeth and glimmering eyes.

“Where. Is. The. Location?!” The kid growled out.

“Under the basement of the abandoned factory down the way, you have to get special permission to enter!”

Way too scary, he was going to faint!

Suddenly the kid pushed away from the wall and stalked off, and he was left a sniveling mess by the garbage in the alley. How far he had fallen, going from own a store happily, to being threatened by a child. Store and family gone, with a broken arm that he could barely afford the money to take care of.

He really shouldn’t have borrowed money from the Yakuza.

Chapter Text

“Is this all of them?”

“Yes sir.” Lee Don-Yoon nodded, fingers twisting, the imposing form of Park Joon towered over him, dark metal of the gun attracted his eyes like a moth to the flame. Where a matching holster kept the weapon firmly at Park Joon’s side. You could never be too careful when dealing with this lot. Park Joon scanned the various forms of the people crouched in the corners of the cement room.

“As you can see, we have stock to invest in, the police have given up on trying to maintain the neighborhood. Others have been brought in specifically for our most interested buyers, if you’d like to see them.”

No one cared for trash, so he preferred the lower wage neighborhoods, no one had enough money to pay for protection in a town like this.

He was uncertain how to react to someone like Park Joon visiting. Yakuza were not his main source of income. Unlike the cooperate CEO’s and weaker gangs who ran the red-light district, Yakuza primarily dealt in drugs and weapons.

“Boss is only interested in the girl you mentioned.”

Lee Don-Yoon smiled. “Of course.”

He led Park Joon the longer way around, so he’d see all they had to offer. His cleaning crew did well in their duty to ensure everything remained sanitary, which drew more buyers in. No use trying to sell if the merchandise had disease, way too much risk for the buyer to take revenge because of ‘wasted money’.

Bak Ji-Min, the leader of this particular Yakuza group, attended the auctions regularly, yet had never bought anything.

Such an opportunity for a transaction between an esteemed Yakuza boss like Bak Ji-Min was worth any amount of effort. If he truly bought this random girl, news would be spread and attract more customers.

Richer ones.

He stopped at the room where he kept the best quality stock, once used for storage of some sort. Now only bare cement walls and floors.  The guards sent them both respectful nods, dressed in dark clothing with masks over their faces.

Guns at their sides were more than enough for most of the merchandise to think twice about escaping. On the rare occasion one slipped through his fingers, he made sure they never got very far, so that everyone else saw what happened if they defied him.

Gathered in a small group, Park Joon zeroed in on the red-head they brought in a few days ago. When she spotted them, her face contorted into an impressive glare for someone her age, but she kept back with the rest.

Lee Don-Yoon noted the tray for food was empty, so some were at least eating.

“How much?”

Lee Don-Yoon wiped the sweat off his brow. “Well, I don’t usually sell directly from the warehouse…”

Park Joon turned, gaze chips of dark ice. Lee Don-Yoon swallowed, the head of a dragon tattooed on Park Joon’s neck seemed to snarl in offense.

“You’re in luck though!” He continued quickly. “Because the Auction is in a week!”

He didn’t dare and bring up the fact that Bak Ji-Min knew when the Auctions were. For whatever reason, the Yakuza boss was trying to access the girl early, he needed to try his best and stand his ground.

Park Joon cast a large shadow, the guards close by did nothing to ease the increasing anxiety.  “Very well.”

Then he turned on his heel, took his phone out and started to tap on the screen. Lee Don-Yoon scrambled to try and keep pace with the sudden movement.

“So will your boss be here tomorrow then?”

Park Joon glanced over his shoulder, without so much as a farewell, the man left the warehouse and drove away in the fancy black car he arrived in.

Lee Don-Yoon wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. He jumped when a chime echoed from his pocket and took out his phone. The rest of the VIP tickets were bought out. All five of them.

For whatever reason Bak Ji-min held special interest toward the red-head. Maybe because of the color? He already planned to increase her price at the auction, better to raise it even higher now.

He turned on heel and walked back to his office, to review the reported activity from his men. A well-kept room despite the fact they had relocated to a basement, compared to the rest of the place at least. He had a large office chair sitting behind his wooden desk, and filing cabinets along the walls. Being underground meant sunlight never reached, so he bought a speaker to play music on when he felt in need of cheering up.

After all these years, the crying always got to him.

Closer to nightfall, Lee Don-Yoon paused when a muted voice shouted.

“-go of me! I’ll tear your eyes out asshole!”

He furrowed his brow. Had the last group already come back with more merchandise? He flicked his eyes toward the computer screen, no, way too early for them. Yet the door opened, and he held back a sharp reprimand as curiosity took over. Two of his guards burst through, with a small…child in their hands?

Lee Don-Yoon blinked.

“Sorry to bother you sir. But we caught this one trying to sneak in.”

“You don’t say.”

The apparent trespasser grunted as the guard held his arms tight behind his back. Round enough in the face Lee Don-Yoon doubted he was more than 16 years old. Ash-blonde hair was rare in these parts, and he trailed his gaze along the kid to take in the rest of the features.

Pretty, just beat up. Lee Don-Yoon stood up from his desk and walked over to his men and the captive.

As if he hearing his thoughts, the kid raised his head up, and forest-green eyes glared at him.

Intense, and unrelenting despite the situation. Obviously a street rat, perhaps the spawn of one of the whores in the streets, yet well-kept. By who?

“Looks like you had a bit of trouble dealing with him.” He commented, as he took in how one guard had an eye that wouldn’t open up, and sported a red cheek, while the other held his ribs. “How far did he get?”

The guards exchanged glances.

“He took down two people before we got to him.”

Trained. Lee Don-Yoon mused silently. Still staring into the kid’s eyes, entranced by the color. Blood trailed down from the kid’s temple, a black eye already formed around one eye, but that stare never so much as faltered.

Try me. It seem to say. I’ll win next time.

“I find it a bit silly to think I paid so much money for you to guard me, only to hear of a child beating two of my men.” He contemplated out loud. “Was he really that hard to stop?”

“The kid is a monster. I-I don’t know how to explain it.” One of the men replied. “If you look back on the cameras you’ll see.”

“I intend to do just that.”

He gestured to the door. “Find an empty room and put him there, post a guard and take care of anyone who needs medical attention. Including the kid.”

“Yes sir-“

“Fuck that!”

Lee Don-Yoon jolted, the voice in his office spoke in a rasp of an accent he couldn’t identify. He spun on his heel.

“Excuse me?”

The kid bared his teeth, he jerked in the guard’s hold, bursting with energy. Fang-like teeth snapped, legs kicked, and he watched as his guards, full-grown men, struggled for a second to regain control. One finally grabbed a handful of the kid’s hair and yanked hard.

The kid yelped, and the other guard took the opportunity to wrestle him down on the ground.

“Stay down!”

Lee Don-Yoon stared hard at all of them in startled silence.

As much as he was able, the kid met his eyes once again.

“You took my friend, I’ll give you anything you want, if you let her go!”

He raised a brow.

“Oh? You think I have her?”

“I know you took her!” The kid grunted as a knee came down harshly along his ribs.

Lee Don-Yoon frowned. “Be careful! I can’t afford him to break a bone, much less a rib here! Do you know how long it would take to find a doctor to heal him?!”

“Sorry sir.”

The guard on top of the kid relented, Lee Don-Yoon nearly expected the kid to spring up with bared fangs and claws. Clearly saw the vision in his mind, but the kid remained human. Cowed by the heavier weight of someone far older than him.

He focused back on the kid. “Why would I accept anything from you?”

“I-“ The kid stuttered. “What do you want? I’ll find it for you, in return let my friend go! Please!”

Lee Don-Yoon studied him for a moment, then gestured at his guards. “Put him in the room next to Room A. I’ll figure out what to with him in the morning.”

He rubbed at his sore head, a headache threatened to form, and his body felt heavy.

He needed to take a hit. All this work was exhausting.

“Wait!”

Noise and grunts, Lee Don-Yoon ignored it all as he slipped back into his office chair, and licked his lips. Eyes zeroing on the drawer to his left.

“I’m talking to you! Don’t just pretend like I don’t exist!”

So noisy.

“Shut up kid.” A guard snarled, and flesh smacked, the kid quieted.

Then the door closed, the kid started to shout again, but right now he had other matters to focus on. Lee Don-Yoon sighed and took out the keys from the inner lining of his jacket, then opened the drawer.

----

Face throbbing, half propped on the wall, Kyong contemplated his situation.

Bleak cement walls, cracked and moist enough to smell of mildew, no furniture, not even a blanket to provide something to sleep on. A pail in the corner, reeking to the high heavens of things he’d rather not identify. Cold stone seeped into his skin, people, children, sobbed around him, enclosed as he was, by three walls and bars to keep them from escaping.

What had he done?

Barging into this human trafficking business was stupid, what did he think was going to happen? That he’d beat all the guards up, and save Park Woong?

“I don’t want to be here anymore!”

Neither did he.

Lee Kyong curled his knees and held himself close. He was stuck now, trapped like an animal, and from the sounds of it, sold like one to the highest bidder. Unlike the rest, he choose to enter, and that made him feel all that more regretful.

He never got to even glimpse Park Woong in the chaotic mess of fighting and being captured.

What felt like hours later, a guard came, one faceless due to the mask on his face with a tray of food in his hand. Kyong raised his head to watch.

Keys jingled, and the tray got tossed across the floor, spun wildly across the room, and food fell onto the floor. His stomach clenched at the thought of eating, and he sent the guard a hot glare.

“What was that for?!”

The guard said nothing, and continued onward.

“Hey!” Fire coursed in his veins. In a flash, Kyong darted across the room and pressed into the metal rails, the guard flinched and jumped at the sound. Kyong bared his teeth. “I was talking to you!”

“W-What the hell?!”

“Don’t just throw food on the ground! Asshole! Just because you all have us trapped here, doesn’t mean you can treat me like trash!”

“Y-you’re crazy!”

Kyong delighted in his fear, for a man assigned to be a guard, he wasn’t very confident. He opened his mouth to give a scathing reply.

“What are you doing, Young-Jae?”

Kyong snapped his attention toward the newly arrived guard, a bit taller and well built, face still covered in a mask besides a set of sharp, dark eyes.

Young-Jae straightened and wiped his forehead. “Nothing!”

“Are you getting bullied by the prisoners again?”

“No!”

Kyong glanced between them, and pressed his lips.

The larger guard turned to look him in the eyes, then rolled his own and shrugged. Like Kyong was no big deal.

“He’s not that scary.”

Kyong tightened his fingers around the poles, annoyance flared at their dismissal. Across the way he could see a group of young girls curled up in a corner, staring at the interaction cautiously. Some still sported fresh bruises, but all were covered in dirt from the time they spent in the room.

Inhumane.

Maybe he was not reborn, but rather stuck in hell.

“He beat up two of us, Seok! If you and Hyung didn’t intervene I would have been next!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, we had it handled.”

“Still! Look at his eyes! Maybe he’s feral!”

“Feral? You think of the strangest things, Young-Jae. Just ignore him like all the rest, that’s what Boss wants.”

Young-Jae sighed. “Yeah, I need to remember that. Sorry I’m still on edge.”

Their conversation continued on, Kyong watched as they walked down the hallway and then disappeared. Joking around, feeling fear, comforting each other, the guards sounded normal. Not monsters who snatched children and woman off the streets to then sell.

He pushed off the rails with a deep sigh, suddenly exhausted.

Best try and salvage what food he had, then attempt to sleep. He needed to heal up from the beating the guards gave him.

Idiot. He berated himself, as he wrapped an arm around his ribs. Deeper into the darkness. What had he done?

In the morning, another set of guards came and delivered water and ‘breakfast’, he didn’t try and intimidate them, his body felt too heavy to move. Hunger and thirst drove him to grab the food, a pile of what looked like oatmeal and an orange.

He inhaled the whole thing, sucking at the remains of the orange, desperate for nutrition, and chugged down his water.

Desperation abated, he finally gained enough control to take a breath.

That felt better.

He waited for an hour or so as his body procced the energy, then when his hands stopped shaking, stood up and walked to the bars of his prison. Deliberate in his visual search, now that his mind felt a bit clearer.

About fifteen or so girls, kept in prison cells from what he could see, so more for sure. How big was this trafficking ring, and was it a normal size compared to others across the world? Hard to imagine a larger ring to sell people existed, but not impossible.

He still was not spotting Park Woong.

His heart sank.

Was this all for nothing after all?

Energy suddenly sapped, he walked back to the furthest corner of his cell, and curled up.

Without any window to the outside world, and no clock, he remained blind to time. When a guard delivered his food in the same fashion as last, he only watched silently as the food scattered to the ground. Echoing plastic of trays spinning across cement floor repeated in his ears as the other groups got their food.

At some point he noticed the prisoners started to lie down, but as he copied their actions, deciding them to be the best decider of his sleep schedule, his mind raced. Earth cold ground took away the little heat he received from his clothes, so he curled up to try and save a little. Make sleep come a tiny bit faster.

Around him, people continued to sob out for liberation.

                                                                                                ---

By the time something changed, Lee Kyong resorted to using a chipped piece of concrete to draw slashes on the wall for each time he woke up, to at least attempt to keep track of time. His clothes were stained, and stank from his lack of shower, and the residue inside the pail in the corner.

A metal door opened, and Kyong stopped his set of push ups, and rolled up to his heel smoothly as he waited for the guards. Somehow their arrival felt unexpected, he doubted the crew that served them food had started early.

“-won’t even wash them up, it’s sad really.”

“Don’t think too much about what we’re doing, it’ll drive you mad. You need to get out of debt, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then focus on that. We’re just doing our jobs.”

“Right.”

Through oily bangs he watched them pass his prison, then approached the one further down the hall. Three girls with dark hair and eyes pressed close to the walls.

“You all know the drill.” A guard said, voice firm. A large gun gleamed at his hip. “Listen, and no one gets hurt.”

Frozen, the girls only stared at him.

“Now, move.”

They all flinched. Slowly, one got up, then the other, until all three filed up. Eyes bruised from lack of sleep, and skin far too pale, dirt stuck under their ragged nails as fingers picked nervously at torn cloth.

Maybe eight or ten years old, if he were to guess.

Kyong wanted to curse the guards, cow them, make them give up the keys and release everyone in the ring.

But all he did was stay curled up against the wall and watch.

The group left, long enough he started to relax, then the metal door opened. This time, more of the prisoners around him reacted.

“I told you! The auction is going on! I told you!”

“Silence.” A guard commanded, children whimpered, the voice that spoke up quieted. Then the guards stopped at a cell closer to where Lee Kyong was kept. “You guys next.”

This time it was five girls, with light brown hair, one seemed to be his age, while the youngest had to be no older than seven. The oldest seemed to want to speak out, but the guard caught the look in her eyes.

His hand rested on the gun at his hip. “Come quietly, now.”

Someone sobbed.

“I want to go home!”

Lee Kyong did not blame them for following the order as they filed out. Head lowered down, as bare feet slapped against the floor. Everyone was so young and terrified, what he was seeing didn’t feel real. Was this way his new life turned out? Trafficked to the highest bidder after a failed attempt at saving his friend?

His hands started to shake, and he closed his eyes.

He didn’t want to be sold.

Idiot.

What made you think you could do anything?

Now the guards were closer, they forced the group out, this time it had four girls, with light brown hair. One had blue eyes, but all had the same face of defeat and too-thin bodies. This time, a girl of average height stayed against the wall.

“No! I refuse to listen to you!”

The guard closest to the door sighed. “I hate when they do this.”

His partner stood close to the line of girls they called out. “Just drag her out, he’ll complain about her being ‘messy’ but at this point they all look like gutter rats, so who cares.”

“Right.”

“You guys need to try and run! Attack the guard! Get his gun!” The girl shouted, she shook like a leaf. “We can get out together if we try-!”

The guard closed in, and slapped her across the face, she cried out in pain.

“If you had listened, it wouldn’t come down to this.”

He placed a foot on her back, and forced her down on the ground as she tried to get back up. She whimpered as her face hit the cement.

“You are leaving, Idiot.” The guard drawled. “Some random client is waiting to buy you all out there, be patient.”

Crumbled on the ground, she appeared younger than before, when her voice was filled with rage and desire for freedom, and allowed herself to be dragged up like a rag doll. Brown hair falling over her face.

“Now behave, boss doesn’t like it when merchandise is bruised up.”

She stumbled back on her feet, and he pushed her toward the line of her cellmates. None had so much as looked her direction.

“Now forward.”

Was he going to be next?

The guards came back, and he waited for them to get to his door, yet they grabbed the cell across from him, then the one before that, until Kyong realized, belatedly, that they purposely passed him up.

He moved a bit, and forced himself up to his feet.

Maybe he could take the opportunity to see if Park Woong was in the mess.

Still warmed up from the push ups, and now driven by the desire to find his friend, though far less motivated compared to the first time, Kyong pressed to the bars and peered out. More girls filed out, did this ring prefer to sell one gender rather than both? He knew women had a higher chance of being trafficked, he just never realized how many they actually had trapped.

Surely the police knew of so many missing people, what were they doing to stop this place?

The rest of the girls they pulled out had various shades of golden-brown hair, but none the crimson red of his friend. When everyone left, he stared at the heavy metal door long after it closed, and his heart sank.

Empty of all thoughts and feelings, he slid down to his knees, and stared at the hallway floor. Cool metal pushed against his forehead as he leaned it against a bar.

He…

…was exhausted.

                                                                ---

Metal scraped against cement, and Lee Kyong jolted up immediately, body tensed as he darted from rest to full awareness in a moment.

“-wait for Boss, please! H-he’s on his way, h-he had n-no idea you w-were visiting today, Sir. I promise it w-won’t be very long!”

Shoes tapped against the floor, different than the rest, more of a muted sound then the harsh stop of military grade boots. Lee Kyong stilled as the…intruder? Neared.

“Park Joon they’re becoming annoying.”

“Yes sir.” A velvet tenor replied, cloth rustled, then someone grunted in pain. A thud.

Walking into his view, a tall man with cool-blonde hair, light enough to appear nearly white, stopped in front of his cell. Clad in a pure-white, flawless suit with gleaming silver bands around his fingers.

“So, he was hiding something.”

Soft and fluid, a voice light and airy did not match the sharp edge of amber-brown eyes that locked on his form.

Kyong found himself at loss for what to say.

He’d never seen such a tall man before, with the light color of his hair and height, the guy had to have relatives from Nothern Europe. Still, he spoke in flawless Korean, and held himself with the confidence that reminded Lee Kyong of Nam Hanuel.

This must Bak Ji-Min, the ‘white haired brat’ Nam Haneul mentioned.

Another Yakuza boss, great.

A moment later Park Joon followed, and Kyong vividly remembered the last time he saw the man. When he was punishing the shop owner for owing them money.

Best to be on his best behavior, he decided, and purposely made an effort to show himself becoming less offensive. A familiar anger boiled in his gut, testing his control, but this time he refused to act without thinking.

“Who are you?” He asked.

Bak Ji-Min hummed and tilted his head, a mask of amusement on his face. “Ohh, aren’t you a bold one for being so impolite. The rumors weren’t wrong about you, at least.”

Lee Kyong raised a brow.

“Rumors?”

“Honestly?” When Lee Kyong continued to stare blankly, the man sighed. “You’ve been fighting on the streets, with people watching your matches for years, and you haven’t realized word is spreading out about you? Money is power you know, and a lot is being spent on betting on you winning in these streets.”

“What?”

Lee Kyong furrowed his brows as he tried to understand. Him, becoming well-known because of his fights? That didn’t seem possible. Bak Ji-Min peered at him, suit gleaming like the moon against the dark and filth of the environment, then huffed.

“You really don’t know. Hilarious. I want you even more now.”

Kyong frowned.

“Bak Ji-Min! I’m so sorry for making you wait so long!” In deep heaving gasps, Lee Don-Yoon jogged into the hallway as well. Two guards trotting after, with his round face red like a tomato. “I see you knocked out a guard in the hallway…did he insult you?”

“Yes.” Bak Ji-Min replied, clear and sure enough of himself, that Lee Don-Yoon faltered.

“R-right! I’m sorry for that! I’ll fire him immediately!”

   “How much is the child?”

“The child?”

Bak Ji-Min pointed and Kyong, and he twitched.

“I haven’t decided yet sir, he was an unexpected surprise, so I’ve been holding back on his price until I feel certain of a number.”

“Tell me any number then, and I’ll give it to you.”

Lee Don-Yoon shifted, both Park Joon and Bak Ji-Min made him appear all that much more small. From the way he started to bite his lip and shift, the man felt the sharp dread of anxiety as Kyong did.

“Well, you see…I…would rather you wait until auction time, sir. No offense given, please!” Lee Don-Yoon half bowed, to show his respect, a small part of Kyong appreciated how the man continued to deny Bak Ji-Min, despite being terrified.

“695,749, 650 won.”

“WHAT?!”

Kyong flinched at the loud shout. Such a price for one person was ridiculous. What sort of game was Bak Ji-Min trying to play?

“Take it or leave it, Lee Don-Yoon. I will only offer once.”

Sweat trailed down Lee Don-Yoon’s face. “Of course I’ll accept the offer, sir! I-I am extremely grateful!”

Bak Ji-Min smiled wider.

“Good, then leave. I’ll transfer you the money.”

Park Joon jolted and bowed again.

“Of course, sir!”

He scampered away, guards not far behind, and Lee Kyong swallowed. His head spun.

695,749, 650 won

 “Now that annoying man is gone, you will come with me, Lee Kyong.”

Park Joon approached and took out a set of keys, Kyong had never once seen either man be willingly offered the keys, he wondered if Park Joon stole them from the guard he knocked out.

With a creak, the prison door opened, and Park Joon stared at him, a dark shadow that lurked at the exit. Lee Kyong hesitantly started to move forward.

Staying was out of the question.

He needed to feel the sun on his skin again.

Bak Ji-Min smiled, and it pulled against the bones of his face, revealing sharp canines that looked better fit on an animal, then a human.

“Good choice.”

Park Joon took up the back, and Bak Ji-Min the front, he didn’t so much as dare to attempt and break free. Failure soured his tongue as they walked through a labyrinth of halls, until a door, gleaming and bright, revealed itself.

He caught himself mid flinch, as his hair moved, belatedly realizing that fresh air wafted around him. For the first time in what felt like years, he smelled nothing. No poorly cleaned ‘accidents’, or rotten food and dozens of uncleaned bodies shoved into one building.

The sky.

He could see the sky.

Sunlight reflected off of a dark car in front of them, around the size of a limousine just a tad bit smaller, and Park Joon walked faster so he could arrive first, then opened the door for them. The driver nodded to Bak Ji-Min, a scar on his chin, and Bak Ji Min slipped inside.

Then the sunlight disappeared with the sound of the car door being shut.

Leather seats and a large open space, Bak Ji-Min sent him a closed-eyed smile as Park Joon shut the door and then sat in the front with the driver.

Immediately the windows rolled down as the car started rolled forward, Lee Kyong blocked his sore eyes, as sunlight kissed his skin again.

The numb emptiness in his chest refused to abate.

What happened to Park Woong?

“You stink, that man needs to integrate a showering system for his merchandise, the smell is truly horrible.”

Lee Kyong sent the man a tired glare, Yakzua or not, the rude comment ticked him off. “So sorry, I’ll make sure to ask for one next time I’m imprisoned.”

“Now, now.” Bak Ji-Min chirped, a shadow blocked out a part of his face, and sunlight turned his eyes a startling amber-gold. “That doesn’t sound like a thank you. Would you rather I send you back to Lee Don-Yoon?”

Kyong snapped his mouth closed.

“Thought not. Don’t worry, I’m not mad. I like people with a bit of fire in them, after all. ”Bak Ji-Min rolled his shoulders and leaned back against his seat, then started undo the silken white tie that rested down his chest. “Tell me, has Nam Hanuel told you anything about me?”

Lee Kyong hesitated.

“Come on, you can tell~” Bak Ji-Min sang, his hand paused, and the opposite end of his tie slipped loose. Silver buttons gleamed in the glare of the sun from the wrist of his coat. Eyes focused heavily on Lee Kyong. “Unless you want to withhold information from me.”

“He didn’t say anything of importance to me.” Lee Kyong replied, trying to keep his voice steady. “Just that you’re one of the most ruthless people in Korea.”

Whether or not he believed him, Bak Ji-Min’s eyes turned a bit less intense, he fished taking his jacket off and then rolled up his sleeves of his button down. A head of white scales peered out from the collar of the shirt, eyes perfectly matching Bak Ji-Min’s shade.

Kyong’s mouth dried and he pursed his lips.

“I’m glad people still take me seriously, I was worried they’d forget about me~”

Kyong highly doubted the Yakuza boss worried much about what other people thought of him.

“I’m not surprised he didn’t say more, the old man is still sour after his last loss.”

“What do you mean?”

“From the look on your face, he never said anything, not that I blame him. Imagine admitting to the public a ‘white haired brat’ half your age beat you.”

“Beat him?”

Bak Ji-Min spread his legs out and relaxed fully in his seat. “Yep. He’s quite easy to mess with, especially when his weak son was still around. All I had to do was offer his son a bit of money, and he told me everything. What routes his father controlled, fighting techniques, who Nam Haneul leant money to. You’d almost think that coward wasn’t related to Nam Haneul with how easily he caved in.”

Kyong didn’t know what to say.

“I started a war between our two groups over the routes I wanted, and Nam Hanuel lost, so I gained control of that territory.”

Bak Ji-Min paused, and Kyong took a moment to process, then could only come up with one response.

“How…how do I fit in all of this?”

“Come on now.” Bak Ji-Min purred. “You’re smarter than that, I know you are.”

Kyong kept himself still under that penetrating gaze, the only defiance he’d allow himself, as the other types may end up with him killed.

“You’re going to use me to gain more territory?” He asked tentatively.

Bak Ji-Min laughed, eyes of golden flames flickering in his amusement, the car turned into a more wooded area, though no less maintained. Lush green leaves covered the sky, sunlight dappled through the window, dancing against Bak Ji-Min’s pale face.

Lee Kyong had no idea where they were, the panic felt dull compared to the tight sensation of being caught in the web of a plan to somehow weaken Nam Haneul. The man who currently provided protection and food to his friends.

What about Park Woong? His mind reminded him

 Now he had absolutely no idea where to find his friend.

“In a sense yes, though not exactly. Hmm I guess I’ll tell you, not like you’ll ever have a chance to tell Nam Haneul now.”

Kyong looked down at the carpeted floor.

Right.

Bak Ji-Min just bought him…for 695,749, 650 won.

“He’s going to visit very soon, under the pretense of trying to barter for his precious little granddaughter.”

Every nerve, cell, thought, everything stopped in Kyong. He snapped his head up, and Bak Ji-Min sent him a squinty eyed smile.

“Though that would catch your attention.”

“You have Park Woong?” He asked breathlessly, he felt nearly faint. “Alive?”

“I do. She’s a demanding girl, but food shut her up and I learned more than enough to figure out where to find you.”

Park Woong.

Park Woong was alive, and he was going to be near her.

A chuckle. “You look like you’re about to explode in excitement.”

Kyong curled his fingers into the cloth of his pants, frantically he tried to regain control of the sheer relief that washed through him like a Tsunami. Park Woong had not been sold to a random pedophile, or forced to work in the red-light district.

At least she was safe…in a sense.

“You said he was going to visit under the pretense of bartering for her?” Lee Kyong asked. “Why did you word it like that?”

“Because that man cares very little for the spawn of his bastard turncoat of a son, kid. We may have different preferences, but all us Yakuza are the same power-hungry monster on the inside, don’t forget that. Nam Haneul is going to ask for you back, even if that means leaving your friend behind, to ensure he still has his winning hand, you.”

Lee Kyong stared at Bak Ji-Min, wanting to protest.

But after everything he had just experienced in the Trafficking ring, Lee Kyong only withered further on the inside.

Bak Ji-Min was right.

“He could just find another person to fight for him.” He offered, voice quiet, the energy regained from being exposed to the sun had drained out. “I’m not that special.”

Bak Ji-Min snorted.

“You don’t have a clue, do you? Of your lineage?”

Lee Kyong’s voice refused to come out. He stared at his knees.

“Maybe I’ll tell you one day, If I feel kind. Right now, I’m done sharing.” A long white-clad leg crossed and Bak Ji-Min took out his phone. “Stay silent until I say otherwise.”

Kyong leaned his head against the frame of the car door, so the wind hit his face.

 One thing after another went wrong.

They arrived at a western styled house, many floors high, with windows spanning what seemed like every inch of the structure. Lee Kyong blinked at the design, large metal gates closed behind them as the car turned with the roundabout that led to a set of stairs.

“Follow me.”

Bak Ji-Min did not wait to see if he did, Lee Kyong scrambled after him, taking in the mansion with wide eyes. Everything down to the cut grass, perfectly white roses and statues screamed money, old money passed down to each generation.

“Beautiful, right?” Bak Ji-Min chirped, as Park Joon fell a step behind them silently. Lee Kyong cast a glance at the bodyguard, but the man didn’t so much as pretend to be interested in interacting.

“Yeah.” Lee Kyong said dully.

He didn’t have enough energy to properly react to this…luxury. After all he went through, the years of starvation and struggle, he didn’t have the time to break down.

Keep moving forward.

Park Woong could be in this place.

“I’m sure you probably want to be with your friend.” Bak Ji-min commented, and Lee Kyong snapped his attention to the older man. “Take a shower first, then do as you wish, so you don’t stink up the house, I have no more need of you.”

Lee Kyong halted, and the two men continued on.

He waited for them to stop, demanding to be followed, maybe shove him into a room and forbid him not to leave. Stuck alone at the entry way, surrounded by shining floors and arching ceilings, a guard passed by with a dark metal rifle on his back.

Lee Kyong blinked, he was free?

He turned, and the two guards on either side of the entry way stared back. Both with visible tattoos of a dragon twining along their arms. Just the way they stood told him enough of their talent, he’d not try and escape with them so close.

Maybe not free, but better off than the Trafficking ring it seemed.

A part of him wanted to go find Park Woong, while another cried out for the shower Bak Ji-Min mentioned.

The memory of hot water running over his skin won in the end, and he took on the responsibility of trying to find a shower himself. Each way he turned he either found another room, or bumped into an armed guard with the same tattoo on one of their arms. No one tried to stop him.

Though he never considered himself religious, Lee Kyong thanked every god he could come up with when he found a shower, and immediately set to turning it on to hot. Steam billowed around him as he tore his clothes off, and nearly leapt into the blast of water.

Water rushed down his face, through his hair, and he closed his eyes as it warmed up the aching bones of his body. Though the bruises from his break into the ring healed already, he still felt tender and weak. His attempt to try and stay strong had failed since his meals were nothing but mush and a single fruit most times.

Suddenly the door to his bathroom slammed open, and Kyong jumped, then slipped and fell to the unforgiving dark tile floor of the shower.

“Lee Kyong!”

He peered up through the droplets of water trailed down his face, and up into the wide eyes of Park Woong, who gaped at him as she stared at him through the clear shower stall.

He gaped, hands still pushing back some of his hair.

Alive.

Park Woong was alive.

“Noona.”

She sniffed, then Park Woong’s face crumpled.

“You actually came for me, you idiot!”

Then she burst into the stall and jumped onto him to give him a large hug. He grunted as she held onto him, uncaring of the water and his state of undress. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her close, as she sobbed loudly into his shoulder.

“Idiot!”

                                                                                ----

An hour or so later, he sat on Park Woong’s bed, across from the girl herself who also dried her hair.

“You could have waited until when I was dry to greet me, Noona.” He commented with no real heat. “To save yourself from getting your clothes soaked.”

“No way was I going to wait that long!”

His lips twitched.

Park Woong huffed and scooted closer to him, short hair a tangle of red waves. The clothes they both wore were of some sort of high-quality material he had no name for. He scanned her for any signs of injury or loss of limb, just in case he missed something last time.

Everything was where it was supposed to be.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about me. I got out of that horrid place far quicker than you did.” She said, sending him a grateful glance, he turned away from her kindness. Ashamed.

I gave up.

Lee Kyong allowed his towel to rest on his shoulders. “How long was I there?”

“Three weeks after I left.” She replied and a cold shiver of fear rolled down his spine.

Three weeks.

Three weeks of darkness and hunger.

Of helplessness and despair.

He closed his eyes and pushed all those strong emotions down. Three weeks was a long time to be trapped, no wonder the flowers on the trees bloomed, and the sun felt so warm. Spring had taken over.

“Did..did they hurt you, in the trafficking ring?” He asked, and peered out of the veil of his ashen hair to watch his friend.

Park Woong shook her head.

“Not in the way you’re asking.”

“I’m glad.”

Her face softened. “I can’t believe you broke into the trafficking ring to find me Lee Kyong. What were you thinking?”

Kyong shrugged. “I wasn’t, at that moment all I cared about was you.”

“You’re a good person, Lee Kyong. Just a bit too reckless, you could have been hurt.” Park Woong took a deep breath. “But I’m happy you came for me.”

He dropped his gaze to the sheets under them, unable to fully appreciate the soft mattress he sat on. Park Woong would change her opinion if he revealed how easily he gave in, explained the empty hole in his chest, and the waning desire to even move.

Pathetic.

“Thanks.” He sent her a fake smile. “I’m just happy you’re okay, I’m sorry I didn’t actually save you.”

“Lee Kyong…”

“Do you know anything about Bak Ji-Min’s plan?”

“His plan? Oh yeah, the fucked up plot to try and get rid of Nam Hanuel?”

Lee Kyong nodded.

“He told me all about it, for a Yakuza he’s very honest about his intentions.”

“I noticed, though I think he’s only being this way because he knows we can’t escape.”

“You’re probably right.”

They settled into an uneasy silence for a minute. Then Park Woong spoke up.

“I don’t think it’s going to work, Nam Haneul is going to come here, save us both, and kick Bak Ji-Min’s ass.”

Lee Kyong wanted to agree with her statement, but the image of the memory of Bak Ji-Min’s casual confidence, and the cool cut of his gaze tightened his throat. Nam Haneul seemed scary, compared to Bak Ji-Min, Lee Kyong hesitated to still consider the older Yakuza boss that intimidating anymore.

Was Nam Haneul capable of taking Bak Ji-Min down?

Maybe.

Maybe not.

“Lee Kyong?”

Lee Kyong focused back on the conversation. “Sorry, I got distracted. I agree with you Park Joon, Nam Haneul will save us.”

She contemplated him for a moment. “You look exhausted.”

“I am.”

Park Woong blinked, then realization dawned on her. “Wait, you haven’t had time to sleep.”

“Not yet.”

She smacked her forehead. “You should have said something! Here I am trading gossip with you, when you just came back from nearly being sold in a trafficking ring!”

“It’s fine Park Woong, I’ve enjoyed talking to you.”

“Do you want to get something to eat before you go to bed? You can sleep with me if you want.”

“I’m good.” He replied, and slipped off the bed. “I do think I’ll probably go to bed though, so let’s talk tomorrow.”

Refusing to look her in the eyes, Lee Kyong slipped out of her room, and opened the door across from her room, which just so happened to be an equally large bedroom. Elaborate well-crafted furniture gleamed with golden accents as he walked across to the mattress.

Then he hesitated.

He’d never slept on such a large one before, sitting with Park Woong had been nice, but now given the opportunity, he found it hard to want to sleep on the bed. A strange notion, he mused, and walked to the closet of the bedroom instead. Half the size of the main room, but still bigger then his apartment.

He took a few blankets and dragged them into the closet, then closed the door firmly behind.

Now two barriers were between him and whoever tried to barge in. Park Woong seemed healthy, but he refused to be tempted into a false sense of security.

“…all us Yakuza are the same power-hungry monster on the inside, don’t forget that…”

He wished he could be as naïve as Park Woong and believe in Nam Haneul, maybe then he’d finally be able to rest. Yet he stayed awake, staring at the ceiling, phantom cries of girls for their family echoed in his ears.

Nam Haneul was going to die, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.