[spin] Signature

rate: PG13
words: 5639
(Part of the Shatter series which is a sequel to the Surrender and Succesion series.)


Sungmin stood up from the couch with a scowl plastered on his face. He had been sitting there for countless hours staring at the photographs, and still his mind was blank. No, not blank, blocked. It was as if there was something he was missing from the photographs and something was preventing him from understanding, from seeing all.

Pacing over to a side table in the expansive living room, he picked up the whiskey bottle and sloshed a dash of the amber liquid into a small, glass tumbler. As he just barely stopped from slamming the bottle back down on the shiny, black cherry surface, he undid the top two buttons of his black shirt, revealing a sneak of his creamy skin and contrasting white undershirt. Leaning his side against the high table, he glanced over towards the coffee table.

He raised the tumbler to his lips and smelled the heavy, sharp scent of the whiskey Yesung loved so much. He paused, tilting his head to look at the translucent liquid.

Yesung.

He placed the glass back on the table and quickly strode towards his bedroom. He pushed open the doors to the closet and barely blinked when he saw Youngwoon in there putting away clothes he had washed for Sungmin.

“Everything okay?” Youngwoon asked casually as he picked up another stack of folded clothes from a basket on the floor, “Did you eat the lunch I gave you yet?”

“No.” Sungmin walked through the large closet to a large bag on a hanger, picking it up from where it hung, his dark eyes stinging as his gaze swept over the protective case. “I was just looking for any of his suits but… you picked this up from the dry cleaners. When?”

“This morning while you were off at the Agency,” Youngwoon answered as he put the clothes away and then picked up the empty basket, “You owe me a couple thousand won, by the way.”

Sungmin swallowed hard, his voice struggling to stay hale and whole, “Yeah… of course.”

“Why did you want one of his suits?” Youngwoon inquired as he headed towards the door,

“I… I needed help with the files from Donghae,” Sungmin explained.

Youngwoon raised an eyebrow but turned towards the open door, “Well, if you need me, I’ll be on the phone with the Chief.”

“Still can’t convince him to release Jungsu?” Sungmin asked lightly,

“If I had any power in the Agency still… any at all, even as an assassin, I would waltz right into the building and give that old man a piece of my mind,” Youngwoon growled. Then, after inhaling deeply, he calmed, “But we both know I gave up those privileges years ago. So I’m reduced to calling the Chief.”

“I’m surprised you haven’t ambushed him at his house yet,” Sungmin admitted,

Youngwoon shot him a look, “Where do you think I was last night while you were sleeping?”

Sungmin couldn’t help but smirk as his best friend left him alone in the spacious, walk-in closet. He heard the distant sound of the bedroom door closing, the sound snapping him back to his goal. He looked back at the suit bag in his hands. He felt the threatening sting in his eyes. He swallowed, pushing back the raising flood of emotions he had been managing to dam the entire day.

He hooked the hanger onto nearby hangers in the closet so that the bag faced him instead of slipping between the other suits. He slowly unzipped the bag, revealing a pristine white blazer and charcoal black slacks. He ran his fingers along the crisp edges of the collar, leaning in, desperately trying to smell any hint of his beloved. However, all he could smell was the light, pleasant scent of cleanliness. He straightened, sighed with resignation as he carefully unhooks the blazer from the hanger. He hesitated just a moment before slipping it on.

The jacket was just slightly too big in the shoulders and in length of the torso and sleeves. However, it felt comfortable and, for a moment, realized the appeal to blazers that Yesung always had but he, never did. The material felt like a comforting, warm blanket, wrapped securely around his torso and limbs. Despite feeling nothing in the jacket of Yesung, he still could feel his presence. His head dropped slightly, eyes closing as he pulled the halves together in front, overlapping them to cocoon him. He heard a slight crinkling when the blazer enveloped him like a second skin. Releasing the halves, he slipped a hand into the inside pocket of the blazer and pulled out an envelope.

“What the…” Sungmin pulled off a yellow sticky note that was attached to the front of the envelope and read the unfamiliar print, “This was found in the blazer when we were cleaning it.” He opened the envelope and pulled out two sheets of paper, "I'm surprised they didn't mention whatever weapons Yesung probably sewed into the..." He read the first lines. The envelope and sticky note drifted to the ground.

“Dear Sungmin…” He forced the words out, his eyes taking in each word, his heart imprinting each letter; “I’ve been trying to think of what to get you for your birthday and I still don’t know what to get you. As I’m sure that you’ve skilfully inspecting that numerously-scratched out date that I am writing this several months ahead of time. Embarrassing, I know, but do I get points for admitting to it? Thought not.”

Sungmin couldn’t help himself, he laughed. It was a withered, sad-attempt at a laugh, but it bubbled forth and tickled his tongue and lips. It was an odd feeling, but being able to laugh again and having done so because of Yesung, felt good, felt right. The stinging in his eyes was still prominent in his senses, but less so than before. Without any hesitation, he continued reading.

“In all truth, I’ve been walking around trying to figure out even what to just say to you. Erm, write to you. I couldn’t think of what to get you for your birthday but this letter seems to be even harder than that. So, I began to think about the beginning. I began to think about how I met you. I don’t think you ever knew this, but when I first met you, I was drunk,” Sungmin chuckled as he muttered to himself, “I knew you were drunk. Dead drunk. I was your damn bartender, how couldn’t I know you were drunk?”

“And yet, when I saw that jerk with his grubby hands trying to take advantage of you,” he read, “my world was suddenly crystal clear. Suddenly I was no longer drunk and all I could think about was you. You were all that filled my head. In all honesty, for a while, you were all I thought of. In my monotonous lie of a life of working for a gang, you were the highlight of my week. You were what I worked towards each day. You were the constant in my double-life. And for that, I am grateful.”

Sungmin slowly dropped to his knees, his heart beating slowly, steadily and strongly. Just moments ago, he was sure it had been broken, had died and would not be revived. However, this letter, these words – Yesung’s words – were reviving him, bringing him back from the brink of oblivion and despair. He had wanted to follow Yesung into death, but Yesung was pulling him back into life.

“You stayed by my side, fought by my side and the price you almost paid was your life. In that moment, I realized you were more to me than I ever thought. I fell so fast for you, Sungmin, and I now know that from the very beginning, from when you first began working at the bar, I had already begun to fall for you. As shallow as it sounds, I did fall for you when I first laid eyes on you,” Sungmin paused in his reading to smile slightly, “You weren’t so bad looking yourself, Yesung.”

“But when I got to know you, even that first morning-after together, that’s when I realized I wasn’t wrong to feel what I did for you back then. You knew me before we even spoke. After I told you the truth, you understood me and accepted me. After so long of not trusting anyone, of keeping all my truths, all my lies to myself, I was able to tell you everything. You accepted everything whole-heartedly, without any restrictions. When both my lives merged that day having you with me made everything easier. And for that, I am grateful.”

With one hand, Sungmin held the letter. With the other hand, Sungmin clutched both halves of the blazer tighter around him. He remembered the morning Yesung told him everything. He remembered when the gang members found out about Yesung’s true mission. He hadn’t thought a lot about why he accepted all Yesung told him at face value. He hadn’t thought a lot about why it was so easy to stay by Yesung side during those difficult days. All he knew then was that it was what felt right, that had he not accepted all Yesung explained and had he not fought by Yesung’s side, then he would be making a mistake. As the soft material of the blazer hugged him, he acknowledged that once more.

“Do you remember when all of that stuff happened with Key? I mean, Kyuhyun? It was as if our pasts were coming back again. Well, my past since you were secretly taking missions from the Chief without telling me and… well, that doesn’t matter anymore. I’m over it, really.” Sungmin chuckled softly, “Don’t lie… you still resent… resented that I was able to hide something from you.” He sighed before continuing, “For a second time, we joined our skills. We fought side by side and I knew… well, you know how I don’t like having partners when I go on missions? Well, when we were doing that last mission and putting our heads together, I knew that if I had to have a partner, then I’d want you. I know, I know, a late realization, but it’s not my fault you came into the Agency later than me.

“I know that talking about what happened a year ago isn’t your favourite thing to do, but I need to because it’s one of the ways I can tell you how amazing you are. You did your part in the mission so precisely, so perfectly that had we been Agents in the same department, I would envy you… we would have been rivals,” Sungmin snorted quietly, “Yeah right. The Great Yesung envious and rivalling me?” He shook his head as he read on, “Also, in a room of lone wolves, the son of a mob boss, a mob boss and several Agents, you were the only one to realize I was still alive. The fact that you even had to doubt my life is something that I regret to this day.”

“I wish I had doubts now,” Sungmin said quietly, feelings tears line his lids and begin to blur the edges of his vision. He inhaled slowly, deeply as he kept reading, “I wish I could have let you know sooner that I wasn’t actual dead and that I was just acting for the others’ sake. I wish I could have stopped everything before it got that far. I wish you didn’t have to risk your life just to get to my side. You fought with me, did so much with me, for me. And for that I l –…” Sungmin blinked, “I l –…” He flipped the pages, but the second page was completely blank, just bearing the same folds as the first page. “He stopped writing… He didn’t finish his sentence… He didn’t… Damn it, Yesung, why didn’t you finish your sentence!?”

He hugged the pages to his chest as he closed his eyes, “It’s just two words, seven letters long, couldn’t you have finished writing before putting down your damn pen?” He sighed heavily as he slowly straightened to his full height. He looked down at the first page again and panicked when he saw something small splash onto the page, the words beginning to run. With his free hand, he began to dab at the wet stop, trying to stop the ruin. When he managed to stop the course of the tear, he calmed down somewhat, sighing with relief.

He looked down at the letter again - unfinished letter – and, with his free hand, wiped away the tears that had begun to impede his vision. He wished Yesung had finished the letter, wish he knew what Yesung had wanted to say to him for his birthday. The second page had been completely bare, meaning that Yesung had wanted to write so much more, meaning he had only know a bare half of what he was meant to read. Slowly falling back to the ground in the white blazer that had been Yesung’s, Sungmin hugged the letter to his heart and even the blank page because it had been something that Yesung had touched.

…

“What exactly did he do wrong?” Shiwon inquired from the steel-frame bed that was pushed against a corner in the small room he had been isolated in for days.

“Who knows? All I heard was that he was caught trying to break into the Chief’s office,” Donghae scowled as he paced before the other man, “Now there’s all these rumours flying about that Jungsu’s a traitor, that he’s selling information… It takes everything I have not to yell at or punch every person who says something.”

“But you can’t because it’ll mean you’re on his side and you won’t have any power or influence if you’re on his side,” Shiwon surmised, confirmed by a slight nod from Donghae. Sitting with his back against the cold, cement wall, arms folded over his broad chest and his legs crossed at the ankle on the mattress, he watched Donghae pace. “Does it really matter though? I mean, with the power and influence you have, you can’t even get me out of here.”

Donghae flashed him a narrowed look, “You think I haven’t tried!? It’s a little difficult to bust a former mob boss out of jail AND request he be let free despite being caught with a dead body at his feet and a knife in his hand.” He held up a hand immediately to silence the retort he knew the other would say, “Framed, I know, but that doesn’t erase the fact that you were caught in a questionable position.”

Shiwon quirked one thick eyebrow, “I was going to say that I was kidding, but apparently you’re not in a jesting mood.”

“Far from it,” Donghae sighed as he came over and plopped on the edge of the bed. He propped his elbows on his knees, bowed his head below his heart and laced his fingers over his head. “The situation with your case is more difficult than we previously assumed… the guy who was murdered was a foreigner, Miura Haruma.”

“The Japanese consulate getting uppity?” Shiwon inquired,

Donghae shook his head slightly, keeping it bowed beneath his hands, “Worse, he was an Agent for the Japanese. They had gotten permission from the Chief for him to work undercover here for one of their own cases. The guy’s not only one of their best undercover agents, he’s their head computer analyst and hackers.”

“So, an important person to the Japanese Agency?” Shiwon concluded,

“Very,” Donghae sighed, “So, I don’t know if the person who framed you specifically went out to kill Agent Miura or if the person was aiming to frame you specifically…”

“Maybe the person the Agent was after is the person who framed me?” Shiwon asked,

“That’s an even more difficult thing… the Japanese Agency refuses to divulge any information on Agent Miura’s case because it concerns the Japanese Intelligence and etcetera, etcetera,” Donghae let out a frustrated growl, “It’s just a big mess and I wish Sungmin would just climb out of his hole long enough to help us on the case. He’s a brilliant tactician, but also a great analyst. I’m sure if he looked at the files long enough, he’d make connections or see something that me and Jungsu haven’t.”

“Speaking of Jungsu, can you even talk to him?” Shiwon questioned,

Donghae shook his head, “That might give away my hand and I can’t have that, especially since the Chief is personally keeping an eye on Jungsu. He’s on lockdown in a holding chamber, but he’s not allowed to have any contact anyway. He’s not even allowed that ‘one call’ that civilians are given in jail. Whatever he was doing, though, he knew he was risking something and I think it’s related to this case.”

“Why do you say that?”

“When he was caught, I hadn’t left the building, I was down here talking to you. When I went back to my office, I found his office key on the floor of my room,” Donghae explained, pulling out a small, silver key as he did so, “My door was closed and locked, meaning he slipped it in himself. When I went to his office, the door was locked also and on his desk were the files for the murders of Yesung and Agent Miura. He was working on something but before he left to do God-knows-what in the Chief’s office, he locked up his office and made sure only I could get in.”

“Doesn’t the Chief have a master key to his door or something?” Shiwon suggested,

Donghae shook his head, “No, Jungsu wouldn’t be Jungsu if he weren’t extra careful about his work. When he got promoted to Head of Covert Investigations –”

Shiwon glanced at Donghae who looked at him and they both chimed in unison, “Stalking –”

“He had the locks changed on all of his cabinets, drawers and door,” Donghae explained, “Only he had access to the files in his possession. He left the files for me, which makes me think he knew if he were caught he wouldn’t be able to continue the investigation…” Donghae sighed as he stood up from the bed, “I just wish I knew what the hell he was doing last night to get himself put on lockdown.”

“Stealing and selling information? That hardly sounds like Jungsu at all,” Shiwon scoffed, “Besides, if he were going to do that, he should’ve done that years ago… when it would’ve been helpful to me.”

Donghae crossed his arms as he narrowed his gaze on the other man, “Don’t you even think about going back to that way of life. It was hard enough living on different sides of the law, but to be living together and on different sides of the law…”

Shiwon raised a questioning brow at him, “You could have come to my side. Much easier than converting an entire gang and attempting to convince other gangs to legitimize themselves.”

Donghae blinked before scowling at him, “Damn you Choi Shiwon… always tempting me to do things I’m not supposed to do.”

“You don’t always complain about such things,” Shiwon grinned at him, his cheeks dimpling,

“Well, I better go,” Donghae muttered,

“Why?”

“Because you’ll tempt me to do more bad things,” Donghae smirked before adding seriously, “And because I left some files on my desk… on the off-chance that Sungmin does decide to come into the sun for a bit and help with the investigation. If he has, then I’ll go see what he’s come up with. If he hasn’t, then I have more hours ahead of me in contemplating the investigation.”

“Hae…”

Donghae turned back to look at Shiwon, startled to find the other man standing right before him. He blinked and then tilted his head slightly to look at him directly, “Yeah?”

“Don’t take so much upon yourself,” Shiwon said quietly, “It’s bad enough that you don’t have Jungsu helping you… but if Sungmin still isn’t up to leaving his bed then, find someone else to help you, even if it’s Youngwoon or another Agent. Don’t try to do it all on your own.”

“But I have to,” Donghae stressed, “Because this isn’t just another double-murder… this is Yesung.”

“I know…” Shiwon said and then repeated in an even softer, quieter tone, “I know…”

Donghae sighed heavily as he suddenly closed the distance between them, practically lunging at Shiwon’s hard chest, wrapping his arms around the other man, clinging to him tightly, “I can’t ease up on this investigation… I can’t let someone who’s a stranger help… they need to know Yesung… need to know Yesung.”

“I know… I… I understand,” Shiwon embraced him back, “I would feel the same way if I were in your position… I do feel the same.”

“Can I just bust you out of here?” Donghae asked quietly, “It’s what you’ve wanted since you were placed here… Just let me do it.”

“And then where would we be? You wouldn’t be able to finish the investigation,” Shiwon chuckled softly at him,

“But at least I wouldn’t be alone at night,” Donghae muttered into Shiwon’s shirt.

Shiwon squeezed him comfortingly and then brushed his lips against Donghae, “Go finish your investigation. I’ll be waiting here to celebrate when you’re done.”

Donghae nodded as Shiwon released him. He squeezed Shiwon’s hand, headed to the door and then looked back, hand on the doorknob, “Jungsu’s room is next to yours… find out a way to break in from here… like the vents or something,” Donghae slanted a look at him, “If you still have the mob boss in you, I’m sure you can find a way to talk to Jungsu.”

Shiwon blinked and looked down at the small, multi-tool device Donghae had pressed into his hand. He looked up and smiled, dimpled, “I wasn’t the best mob boss for nothing.”

…

“Nice jacket,”

Sungmin looked up from his seat on the couch. He was sitting once more with the files spread out before him, elbows on his knees and the whiskey tumbler in his hands. He watched as Donghae closed the door behind him and sat on the adjacent black-leather couch.

He sat forward, “I wasn’t sure if you would show up or not.”

“I’m depressed, not cold-hearted,” Sungmin stated before looking back at the files, “But thank you for informing me of what was happening to our friends. Shiwon?”

“Bored but coping.”

“Jungsu?”

“Lockdown with no word. Youngwoon?”

“I convinced him to go home for at least an hour. At least to get a new set of clothes… he’s already used up his week’s worth,” Sungmin smiled slightly, “I told him I didn’t want to see him in the same clothes a second time because I might go crazy and think I was reliving the same week.”

Donghae blinked, “You smiled. Sort of… how are you doing?”

“Barely holding on, so we better get onto the case before I crawl back to bed,” Sungmin quirked his lips at Donghae before sobering and looking back at the files,

“Okay, but one more question… isn’t that Yesung’s blazer? And his whiskey?” Donghae questioned,

“I can’t have a nice white jacket like this?” Sungmin questioned,

“You hate wearing blazers.”

“And I can’t drink whiskey?”

“For a bartender, you don’t drink… you hate the taste.”

“Yeah… they’re Yesung’s,” Sungmin placed the tumbler down, the smell of the whiskey filling his nostrils; more than he ever allowed his entire life. “I was studying these files for hours this morning and I kept coming across a missing piece… I got so frustrated and then realized that if Yesung was still… around… that he’d talk me through it and eventually I’d be able to solve any problem I came across during my tactics planning. I thought that if I got closer to him, that somehow… somehow it’d be like he were still… around.”

“Has it been working?” Donghae asked tentatively,

“It’s… what? Four o’clock? Hasn’t been working for the past three hours,” Sungmin sighed,

“Why don’t you confer with Youngwoon?” Donghae inquired, “At least while he was here…”

Sungmin shook his head as he aimlessly picked up a paper from one of the files, “Youngwoon wouldn’t know. Even if he studied the files for as long as I have, I don’t think he’d figure out what it is I’m missing that’s connecting the murders.”

“I thought you were partners when he was still in the Agency? Surely he would have some of your analytical skill? And, being your former partner, he could help your train of thought,” Donghae suggested, “I’ve often done the same thing with other Agents.”

“I guess, but mission-wise, Youngwoon’s only been on one. He left the Agency after…” Sungmin trailed off as he let the paper fall from his fingers.

“Is something wrong?” Donghae asked with concern,

“That’s it! That’s why this seems to connect… this is why I’ve felt like I’ve been missing something this entire time,” Sungmin stammered excitedly as he began to bring forth the photographs from both the murders,

“What? What is it?” Donghae asked hurriedly, falling to kneel beside the coffee table in an attempt to get a closer view of the pictures,

“My first mission,” Sungmin stated as he put the photographs side by side, “Mine and Youngwoon’s.”

…

That evening, Youngwoon opened his bar for the first time since Shiwon was framed and arrested. The bar had been open an hour and half and he had a feeling it would be a slow night, especially since most of his regulars still probably thought his bar was closed. Dressed in one of his black suits with silver-dotted pinstripes, he stood behind the bar, wiping it down for the thirteenth time.

He sighed, “Man, I wish Sungmin reconsidered and agreed to be bartender for tonight.”

“What bar owner cleans and runs his own bar?”

Youngwoon looked up at the young guy who came in and sat at the bar. At least, he assumed he was a young guy. Youngwoon immediately took in the guy’s worn clothes, his tanned and wrinkled face. It was the eyes, Youngwoon realized then; dark eyes that hadn’t seen much of the world despite the appearance of a wizened face. Youngwoon felt something clinch in his memory and the finally piece slid into place.

Without even skipping a beat, Youngwoon straightened, “Can I get you a drink?”

“A beer is good… any beer,” the young guy said. He clasped the cold bottle Youngwoon handed him and took a long, slow sip.

Youngwoon waited, but the young guy said nothing more. More customers came in, greeting Youngwoon enthusiastically and ordering drinks. As an hour dragged on, he began to wonder if what he felt when the young guy came in was what Sungmin had been waiting for.

“My brother would’ve liked this place,” the young guy said when Youngwoon was wiping down the counter again. “Small, quiet… just a nice, clean place to relax in after work.”

“Oh? You should bring him around sometime then,” Youngwoon suggested. He offered a small smirk, “Can’t blame me for self-promoting my own bar.”

“I wish I could bring him, but he’s gone,” the young guy stated gruffly. He paused to take a long sip from his beer. Then, he continued, “He was murdered five years ago in his own home… can you believe that? Murdered? Without any care towards his friends or his… his family…” He gripped the bottle so hard, Youngwoon was waiting for the dark glass to break.

“We – my mother and I – were given no reasons… none, not even by the authorities. They even toned it down, demanded we not go to the media,” his words came like a low growl, his hand shaking when he raised his bottle for another swig, “It was like not being able to acknowledge how he died… to get justice. Can you understand how that must have been for us?”

Youngwoon dropped the rag he had been holding and folded his arms loosely about his torso, “I can’t say I do. I’ve never lost anyone close to me in such a way.”

“I’ve wanted to avenge my brother from the moment I learned he had been murdered,” the young guy admitted darkly, not even looking at the bar owner, “I wanted to kill the men who killed my brother.” He drank the last of his beer, placing the bottle down with a loud thud. He looked up at Youngwoon with dark-fire eyes, “Do you think it’s worth it, my wish for revenge?”

Youngwoon stared at the young man who glared at him will ill-concealed, quiet rage. He waited three heart beats, waited until his thoughts settled and he knew his words were true from his heart, “Yes. If someone had taken away from me someone important… I would want revenge.” Silently, Youngwoon wondered how he was able to keep his words calm, even and emotionless.

“Good,” the young guy stood up, pulling out a gun that was hiding beneath his shirt. Both hands clasped around the gun, steady and true, he narrowed his eyes, “I’m glad you agree with this then. Well, even if you weren’t glad, this would still happen.”

Youngwoon stood still and silent as one customer saw the gun and yelled. His expression was unflinching as the few regulars who had come that evening began to drunkenly run out of the bar. As the door slammed securely shut after the last customer, Youngwoon steadily stared at the young guy.

He inhaled slowly, steadily before stating flatly, “Your brother never used a gun.”

“And look where it got him, six feet under the ground!” The young guy explained angrily, face flushed from both anger and alcohol.

“Then why did you use a knife on those other people?” Youngwoon questioned simply, “Why use the cut that was signature to your brother’s style?”

“Because it was on his behalf,” The young guy stated, “Because I wanted to take away the people important to you.”

“You murdered someone I didn’t even know,” Youngwoon said,

He laughed bitterly, “You mean that Japanese kid?” He barked out another laugh, “That brat’s been following me for God knows how long. Probably for as long since I left Japan. I had to get rid of him. Even came across a guy who was leaving your bar… I’ve seen him with you a few times here.”

“You didn’t kill him. You just framed him,” Youngwoon stated, a silent question in the air between them,

“I want revenge, I’m not stupid,” the young guy spat, “I knew I wouldn’t have a chance against that guy. I barely had a chance against that first idiot I killed.”

Youngwoon gripped his fists as his arms remained folded.

“It took me five years! Five fucking years to find you! You thought you were so smart sneaking into my brother’s apartment, but I saw your face on the camera, yours and that other guy’s face. He was there that night, too, when I killed the first guy,” he laughed tauntingly, “I’ll get him after, but for now –”

“I wouldn’t do anything rash if I were you.”

The young guy swung towards the voice, his gun at the ready as two figures stepped out from the darkness of a hallway that lead to the back rooms. Without turning to look at them, Youngwoon waited as Donghae and Sungmin stepped into the peripheries of his vision. Donghae was holding up his gun and Sungmin was limbering up his fingers.

“You can try to kill all three of us, but the moment you shoot once, the other two will get at you. You won’t be able to stop all three of us,” Donghae stated, slowly stepping towards the young guy.

“I’ve waited five years for this, do you really think I care if I die too?” He barked, “No, getting this guy…” He paused, finally seeing Sungmin’s face as he stepped completely out of the shadows, “Well, well, well… what luck to have you both here.” He smirked, his lips in an evil twist, “No, so long as I get to take one of these bastards down, I can die happy.”

The young guy gripped his gun tighter, more securely as he narrowed his eyes, his gaze darting between the three men before him, “You took away my older brother. He looked out for me, he practically helped raise me since our father died. You took away my mother’s son just months after she lost her husband. You took away one of the most important people in my life! No, neither of you bastards deserves to live, but if I can only take one of you to hell with me, then so be it.”

Sungmin suddenly stepped forward, partially blocking both Donghae and Youngwoon from the young guy’s aim. “Then kill me.”

Brows slightly raised in suspiciousness, the young guy demanded, “And why should I kill you instead of your partner over there?”

“Because he had nothing to do with your brother’s assassination,” Sungmin revealed, idly slipping off the pristine-white blazer from his shoulders and draping it over the bar, “Oh, he was there,” Sungmin added when he saw the young guy’s disbelief, “He was definitely there with me, but he didn’t do anything but accompany me to your brother’s apartment.”

Sungmin stepped closer until he was a bare metre from the young guy. He swiftly withdrew two daggers he had strapped to his low back beneath his shirt. The wicked blades glinted in the dim light of the bar. He locked gazes with the young guy, “I was the assassin who killed your brother.”


(Coming soon, Chapter 5: Sustenance)