one burn, one red, one grin (4/?)
one burn, one red, one grin
day6/got7
pg-15
almost exactly 2 weeks and 5 days to the end of the world as jae knows it. (superhero au)
<<< part 3
Back in Sungjin’s apartment, Jae splashed icy cold water over his face and stared at himself in the cracked mirror in the dingy bathroom. The face reflected back was still his usual weary-of-the-universe self, despite feeling like ten years had passed between this morning and now. He ran a hand across the stubble speckling his jaw - of course he’d forget to pack a shaver - and felt a little like the concrete squares dotting the wall behind him where the dull pink tiles had fallen off. Completely bland and uninteresting on its own and yet somehow necessary in making everything feel complete. It was not a feeling he could say he was fond of.
Now that he was thinking about it, it was weird just how awful Sungjin’s apartment was. Sure, he’d never been a flamboyant, overly concerned with decorating kind of guy but fastidious, fussy Sungjin - who would rather hold himself for hours than use a public restroom - living in squalor? Compared to this, Jae’s own apartment suddenly seemed luxurious. But then again, he thought, eyes swivelling to the tiny excuse of a window over the toilet, maybe government work really was as terrible paying as it was made out to be.
Someone stared back at him through the glass.
Afterwards Jae would maintain that he had not screamed, just yelped in surprise at seeing something unexpected. Brian’s grin would be shit-eating, and Mark would tell him outright that any sound as high pitched and shrill as that could only count as a scream. Whichever it was, it sent everyone thundering to the bathroom, where the door was kicked open without hesitation. Jae had time to glimpse the lock breaking clean off the wall before Sungjin’s anxious face filled the doorway.
“What the hell is going on?” Mark barked, which was all the attention Jae got before everyone noticed the figure now firmly wedged in the tiny window frame. For a second nobody spoke. Mark was the one who voiced out the expression on everyone’s face: “What the fuck is Jackson doing in the bathroom window?” In return, Jackson grimaced and shot Brian a pleading look.
“Hey guys…” he said a little lamely. “Been a while huh? Would you mind getting me out of here, if it isn’t too much trouble? I’m kinda stuck.”
Out of habit, Brian glanced briefly at Sungjin, whose nod was the ghost of what he would normally have given. Brian stepped forward with his hands half raised and gave a half-hearted tug. Jackson flew through the window frame with an almighty rip and crashed straight into Jae, who bounced off the sink. They both landed at Sungjin and Brian’s feet, Jae groaning. For once he was glad he wasn’t a ten tonne muscle head. At this point in time the last thing he wanted to owe Sungjin was a brand new sink.
“Aww Jae,” Jackson looked up at him from where he was sprawled over his stomach. “We haven’t played around like this since high school.” He reached up to pat Jae on the cheek and frowned. “Can’t say I’m a fan of the stubble though.” Jae shoved him off and clambered to his feet, pushing Brian and Mark aside to get out of the tiny, cramped bathroom. Bambam and Yugyeom followed him out, looking completely confused.
“Who’s that?” Bambam asked as Jae flung himself on to the sunken couch, the back of his hipbone throbbing where it had hit the sink.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Jae said, throwing a lumpy cushion over his face.
Sure enough, there was another crash and the sound of a muffled struggle. Bambam and Yugyeom looked over their shoulders, prepared to either jump at Jackson or away from Jackson, depending on the situation, but all that appeared was a grim-looking Brian and a sheepish looking Jackson, his hands held behind his back by Mark. Sungjin pulled a chair over from the kitchen and Mark unceremoniously dumped Jackson into it. Jae removed the pillow from his face.
“Well this is homely,” Jackson said, looking around the dingy room. Brian made to sit on the other end of the couch and Jae reluctantly swung his legs around and forced himself to sit upright. His hip bone throbbed in protest. “And hey, you’ve got some new guys!” Jackson grinned at Bambam and Yugyeom, who stared back blankly. “Hmm, you really could’ve gone with some friendlier ones,” Jackson remarked. “Are they ex-Supers? I don’t remember seeing them before, and they look younger than you.”
“You’re being oddly cooperative,” Sungjin remarked casually, seating himself in another chair and crossing one leg over his knee. He looked completely at ease, his face set in a faintly amused expression but seated like that, with his arms crossed over his chest and an authoritative demeanour radiating from under the calm smile reminded Jae of why he had never dared to really defy Sungjin before. It was no wonder the Power Regulation Commission hadn’t fallen apart yet, not when Sungjin could get anyone to talk just by looking at them. And god forbid if he ever lost his temper.
“That’s because I’m not here to be uncooperative,” Jackson said, looking warily over at Brian. Jae didn’t have to imagine what Brian had probably threatened to do to him. Not after what he had almost done to Bambam.
“What are you really here for Jackson?” Mark asked testily. “Are you here to spy on us now? Act as a double agent? Because if you are, you’re really not doing a very good job at it.”
Jackson sighed theatrically. “Alright, I’ll come clean. You’re right. I’m not here for any of those things. Coming here was my own decision, and no one else’s. I’m... I came because…” he hesitated, and Jae saw that the next words Jackson was going to say were not going to be easy for him. “Because… uhh… I… fuck,” he breathed, looking pained. “This was a lot easier to say in my head.”
“You need us to help you stop Jinyoung,” Sungjin said quietly. Jackson swallowed and looked at him.
“He needs to be stopped.” His voice wavered slightly and he cleared his throat. “And you guys are the only ones who can do it.”
Jae and Mark exchanged glances. Brian scowled and looked away. Sungjin sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on his thigh, regarding Jackson with a thoughtful look.
“And what if we said no?”
“…and then I left, and now I’m here sitting in front of you,” Dowoon concluded, stretching his arms behind his head and stifling a yawn. He took a long drag of water from the crystalline glass set on the table and pretended to admire the view out the window. Even the golden glow of the setting sun couldn’t brighten the faded sign of the butcher opposite him. Below, people - mostly stay at home mothers and aunties - milled around with umbrellas hooked over their arms, doing their dinner shopping. Even after coming here multiple times over the better part of a year it still baffled Dowoon that a group of people who had earned the grudging respect of some of the worst criminals in Seoul worked out of a nondescript flat over a vegetable and fruit shop in the middle of an ordinary neighbourhood.
“Well,” Jinyoung said into the silence. “So it was Sungjin who got Junhyuk killed, huh? Damn, he was the last person I would think to do something like that. I can’t believe I used to look up to him once.” He chuckled wryly, and a darker look stole across his eyes. “Though I guess letting people down seems to be all those guys can do.”
Dowoon did a quick sweep around the room. Jackson was noticeably absent. Jaebum looked like he was struggling to process what he had just learned. Wonpil looked troubled but kept his usual calm disposition. Across the table Jinyoung was scrutinizing him. He looked sort of different from the last time Dowoon saw him - wearier? Older? Maybe it was just the impression Jinyoung had left on him after that TV stunt - like a million other people across the city, heck across the country, he’d seen the clip playing over one of the multiple screens that littered the city, just as he was crossing the street. He and a million others heard the screams when that gunshot went off. It was surreal knowing that amongst the hundreds of people gasping and yelling around him in shock, he was the only one who knew just what exactly was going on.
“That was interesting, what you did at the bank just now,” he remarked casually, discretely looking away before Jinyoung could steal his power. “Were there any casualties?”
Jaebum immediately looked over at Jinyoung. Hmm, thought Dowoon. That was new. “It was a fake gun,” Jinyoung said as if it wasn’t particularly important. He cleared his throat. “So they were trying to put together a little team to take us out? That’s interesting… that’s very interesting.” He looked at Wonpil. “Can we pull information about these guys from the PRC database?”
“I’ve already told you all about Bambam and Yugyeom,” Dowoon pointed out. “I know them from our time on the street, you won’t find any information more personal than what I just told you.”
“That might be true,” Jinyoung said with an easy grin. “But I’m just going to check it out anyway. It’s a little hard to trust a spy, especially one that can erase his presence without warning. I’m sure you understand.”
“Totally understandable,” Dowoon sat back into his chair with an equally easy smile. “Check away. Got any questions?” he added, looking at Jaebum and Wonpil. “Wait… where’s Jackson?”
“I have one question,” Wonpil said between typing into his laptop, ignoring the second question. “You said you left as soon as you heard that other guy leave… the really strong one with the voice projection. What was his name again?”
“Youngjae?” Dowoon helpfully supplied.
“Yeah, that one. What did you do with him?”
Dowoon sniffed and rubbed his nose. “He was a loose end. I took care of him.” He shrugged. “He knew what the mission was and he knew what he was training against, even though Sungjin was careful to leave the most important bits out. If he blabbed about anything, the Regulation Commission, police and national guard would be here so fast you wouldn’t have time to blink. Although,” he added with a respectful nod at Jinyoung, “I’m sure you would have thought of something on the spot.”
“So he’s dead,” Wonpil looked up from his screen, a slightly disapproving frown tugging at his mouth. Dowoon filed that expression away in his memory for safekeeping.
“He’s been taken care of,” he said firmly. “You can look him up too if you like, but he won’t be bothering us anytime soon.”
For a second he and Wonpil seemed locked in an invisible struggle, where Wonpil seemed determined to find something on him to prove he was lying. But Dowoon knew that Wonpil’s static sense didn’t extend to lie detection, and either way he wasn’t lying, not really. Youngjae was no threat to them at that very moment; he’d made sure of that. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Wonpil broke off the stare to address Jinyoung. “The info checks out,” he announced. “Their powers, their history… it’s all here.”
“Good,” Jinyoung nodded back, but looked no less suspicious. He stopped staring at Dowoon to place a hand on Jaebum’s shoulder. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, genuine concern colouring his voice. “You’ve been really quiet.”
Jaebum covered his face with his hands and heaved a giant sigh. When he reemerged, eyes narrowed and a barely concealed rage clenching his jaw, Dowoon felt that he had suddenly entered dangerous territory. If being around Sungjin had felt like constantly having a black panther prowling around in the dark, never knowing when it might pounce, being around Jaebum in a rage was like being thrown straight into a cage with a starving jaguar. Either way, you were almost guaranteed to get your throat ripped out.
Jaebum raised his head, looking straight at Jinyoung. “I’m going to fucking kill him,” he snarled.
Something unspoken seemed to pass between them, one that Dowoon wasn’t privy to. Jinyoung didn’t smile, although Dowoon got the impression that he had. Instead, he put his arm around Jaebum’s shoulders and ruffled his hair. “Welcome back,” he said, his face completely serious.
Dowoon drained his glass of water and pretended not to notice the shiver that crept down his spine.
“What if we said we weren’t going to stop Jinyoung anymore?”
Sungjin’s fingers were still drumming on his thigh. Everyone gaped. Jackson looked as though Sungjin had just told him the world was going to end tomorrow, which Jae suspected probably wasn’t too absurd a consequence considering the circumstances. Brian got heavily to his feet. “What are you talking about?” he demanded. “Wasn’t the whole point of us being here to stop Jinyoung?”
Jae blinked. It seemed that Brian was full of surprises today. First refusing to look at Sungjin and now full on arguing with him? What was next, leaving the room and never coming back? Brian had never defied or questioned anything Sungjin said or did before - Jae had always felt that was one of the reasons Sungjin kept him around.
“Wha- wait- no!” Jackson burst out wildly. “You have to help me stop him,” he pleaded. “Listen to me, you’re the only one who can handle this now.”
“The authorities are more than capable of handling situations like these,” Sungjin mused. “In fact, we should probably let them do their jobs. This is turning out to be far more complicated than I thought it was. If we keep going, even I don’t know what will happen to us if we get caught. At best we all lose our jobs. At worst, we go to jail with the rest of you.”
Jae heard Mark swear under his breath, but he knew better. There was no way any of them were really falling for this, after what Sungjin had revealed about Junhyuk. And what had he said back on the train? “This mission isn’t over, no matter how much we want it to be.” Not exactly the words of someone who’d make a snap judgment to quit. Sungjin had always been two steps ahead of everyone else and Jae was determined to catch up.
Jackson struggled against his bonds, looking panicked. “Sungjin, this is serious. You don’t know what Jinyoung’s capable of, you don’t know what will happen if this doesn’t end now! You guys…” he looked wildly around the room. “You’re the only people who can stop him.”
“Sungjin, you know what will happen to them if we don’t do this,” Mark stepped in, frowning. “You said it yourself, if we don’t get to them first who knows what the authorities would do to them?”
“The death penalty is still legal,” said Brian quietly. “And terrorism won’t get off with a light punishment.” Jackson looked horrified and Bambam turned pale.
Sungjin rubbed the area between his eyebrows and closed his eyes. He sighed, and to an untrained eye the look he gave Jackson seemed a little kinder. To Jae, however, behind his eyes was still cold hard steel. “Okay,” he agreed. “But you have to tell us everything, Jackson. And I mean everything.” He motioned at Mark, who untied Jackson’s hands. “You can start by telling us just what the hell happened at that bank this morning.”
So that was Sungjin’s game, Jae thought as Jackson set off into an eager account of everything that went down. It was all just a test to make sure Jackson would tell them the truth, to make sure that he really was here out of sincerity and with no other motive. He had them all wrapped around his little finger, and it had been almost effortless. Were they all just part of a long game Sungjin seemed to be playing with an unseen opponent? It was hard to tell.
“Uhh guys,” Yugyeom interrupted just as Jackson had gotten to the part that Jinyoung’s gun had been a fake. He was standing by the dirt streaked window, looking down at the street below. “You might want to check this out.” Mark groaned as Sungjin turned on the TV. Brian and Jae joined Yugyeom at the window to look down at the group of people marching down the street. They all wore black balaclavas, and as they watched one of the group transformed his arms into two writhing tentacles and proceeded to smash the windows of the bank branch on the corner. The group immediately scattered along the street to the sound of breaking glass and shouts of terror. A firebreather set a store alight. In the distance, sirens were screaming.
Jae tore his eyes away from the chaos unfolding below them to watch an almost identical balaclava-clad group marching down the main boulevard to City Hall on TV, some carrying signs. A flying woman with wings with a man strapped to her was swooping low over the crowd. The man seemed to be saying something. Mark turned up the volume.
“THE REVOLUTION STARTS NOW!” the man was yelling, his voice projected through nothing but his voice box. “TODAY WE TAKE BACK WHAT WAS STOLEN FROM US! TODAY WE DECLARE WAR ON SOCIETY!” He kept going, but Sungjin muted the TV. His phone was exploding with notifications, and finally started ringing as they all stared at each other.
“I have to get to work,” he said decisively, glancing down at his phone. “Don’t any of you try anything while I’m gone - I’ll update you as soon as I can. Younghyun,” Brian looked up, “make sure none of them leave this apartment. And get as much information out of Jackson as you can. I’m counting on you.” And with that, he finally answered the phone and exited the apartment. “Yes, I know. I’m on my way,” was all they heard before the door closed on them.
“Holy fuck,” Mark breathed, turning the volume back up.
“Shouldn’t we be going to help the people down there?” Yugyeom asked. He hadn’t moved from the window, and they could see the flames from below painting his face orange.
Jae looked helplessly at Mark, whose jaw was set. The expression on his face was conflicted. “We can’t. Don’t get me wrong Yugyeom, I want to help as much as you do but if we can’t risk getting caught using our powers and putting this whole mission in jeopardy.” He sat down suddenly on the couch. “We have a mission,” he said haltingly, looking frustrated. “And that takes first priority. That’s what Supers have to do.”
“I wouldn’t let you go anyway,” Brian added. “None of us are leaving this apartment until Sungjin comes back.” He went to stand beside Yugyeom, and Jae saw the same conflicted look on him. Red and blue light flickered over his face. “The authorities are already here anyway,” he said, as if to reassure himself. “They can handle small fry like this.”
“Maybe I had Jinyoung all wrong,” Jackson said faintly, watching the march on TV. Chants of PARK JINYOUNG! PARK JINYOUNG! PARK JINYOUNG! blared from the speakers. “All this time I thought we were the only pawns in his game. Now look at this,” he motioned at the screen. “They’re all his pawns now. All these people who had their dreams snatched away… they were just waiting for someone to come out and tell them that that was wrong. They were just waiting for someone to save them.”
Jae turned to him. “That was powerful, but I think monologuing only works when the rest of us know what is actually going on.” A mug on the table burst into a weak flame, and Mark snuffed it out with a wry grin. Jae was relieved that he could make at least someone smile after everything that was going on.
By the time Jackson was done describing the last fight he had with Jinyoung and storming out, a plan had formed in Jae’s head. Maybe it was selfish, adding fire to an already chaotic situation. Maybe Mark would never speak to him again. But between Jinyoung and Sungjin, between politics and societal judgment, everything had just been somebody else’s game and Jae was sick of playing. It was clear that Jinyoung no longer trusted Jackson and Jaebum enough to really tell them what he was up to, but there was one person left that Jae knew if he tried hard enough, he could get through to. As night began to fall and the glow of the flames below softened and extinguished, Jae was convinced that what he was about to do would be perfectly justified.
“Look at all this,” Jinyoung spread a hand through the air. Standing with one foot up on the edge of the rooftop and the orange glow from below flickering across his face, Wonpil thought there was something sinister growing in the shadows where the fire’s glow didn’t reach him. Glowing embers from the fires below floated around them, the sound of shattering glass punctured the night sky, and Jinyoung smiled.
“What are we going to do next?” Wonpil asked him. His skin had been pricking unpleasantly since Dowoon had returned and had only amplified when they stepped out to inspect the riot Jinyoung had evoked. Before this he’d felt the cries of terror reverberating around the city, the vibrations of thousands of running footsteps beating at him, and thought that was what had made him so unsettled. But now the vibrations had settled to a hum as the riot police pushed back those on the march, civilians took shelter, and still the feeling remained. He looked up at the sky, hoping to seek some comfort in the stars, but they were hidden behind a veil of orange tinged smoke.
A police car arrived squealing directly under their feet. They watched masked perpetrators scatter out of the broken windows of a jewellers’ and disappear into the night, but not before someone yelled, “The police can’t save you! No one can save you anymore!” There was a smattering of jeers from the windows of residential buildings as the police exited the vehicle to find a crime scene devoid of criminals.
Wonpil narrowed his eyes. Beside him, Jinyoung was still smiling. Jaebum was crouched on his other side, surveying the streets doggedly. It wasn’t hard to guess who he was looking for; after Dowoon had been dismissed and news of the riots reached them, Wonpil had known immediately that Sungjin would be out in the field. What was hard to guess was what Jaebum was really thinking - whatever he had told Jackson earlier seemed to be completely tossed aside in his pursuit of Sungjin. It seemed to have done some good though; after seeing the bloodlust in his eyes Jinyoung’s suspicions of Jaebum’s loyalty had lessened a little. Wonpil didn’t like to think what might happen if they ran into Sungjin this very minute. “What now, Jinyoung?” he repeated.
Jinyoung turned to him. His expression was just as calm and sure as always but his eyes glittered with barely contained glee. His hair fluttered in the breeze, embers rising up around him. “It’s just like I guessed,” he said. “I knew we couldn’t have been the only ones to recognize the injustice. Look at all of them! All this time they were waiting for someone to rise up and show them the way.” He laughed lightly but all Wonpil could hear was the contempt in his voice. “The kindling was already there, all it took was one tiny spark.”
Wonpil frowned. When Jinyoung had first started plotting behind Jaebum’s back, he’d never said anything about starting revolutions. Wonpil had thought it was a good idea at the time too, announcing their intentions, even being the one to suggest hacking into the national network to broadcast it. He’d never have guessed that it would lead to Jinyoung becoming the figurehead of an unplanned uprising. And yet it just seemed so fitting.
“There’s power in numbers,” Jinyoung was saying. “The people have realized their mistake. And if they haven’t yet, well…” he trailed off and shrugged. “Tomorrow more will come to us, and then we can really make a point. We’re so close now.”
Wonpil felt an urge to shake him just to get him back on course. “Are we making a point, or are you?” he asked before he could stop himself. Jaebum shifted slightly at Jinyoung’s feet.
Jinyoung fixed him with a quiet, bewildered look. Even in the dark, with nothing but an orange glow hitting the most defined parts of Jinyoung’s face, Wonpil could still see the hurt written on it. “Don’t go soft on me now, Wonpil,” he said, so quietly Wonpil was sure he was the only one who heard. The fire below them crackled and spat into the silence. “You’re the only one I can still count on.”
For a few seconds they stared at each other, and Wonpil was the first to look away. “I’m just worried about what this means for you,” he said evenly. “I thought we were all in this together but it’s only your name and your face they all know now - the authorities will be looking for you.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Jinyoung turned back to the street. “It’s not me who’ll be out in the streets.” So saying, he stepped right off the edge of the roof, floating down to the pavement and landing lightly. He set off down the street, and Wonpil felt the excited buzz in the air as spectators at their windows realized who he was. There were some hisses of disapproval, but doors slammed, and soon a handful of people were following him. Wonpil spotted some clad in balaclavas among the motley gathering.
“My friends,” Wonpil heard his voice echoing, smooth and unruffled, up to the rooftops. “I thank you for joining the cause.”
Murderer, voices hissed from the windows. Hero, those on the ground cried out.
“The truth will stand!” Jinyoung declared. “Those who have silenced us and forced into the shadows are none other than society themselves. They have stolen your lives and your dreams based on nothing but senseless fear! Will you let them get away with it?”
No, screamed the crowd.
“Will you let others determine how you should live?”
No.
Jinyoung raised his arms amidst cheers and applause. Wonpil could see the charming, heroic smile on his face. Seeing Jinyoung standing like that, silhouetted against a burning building, Wonpil had the distinct impression that he was looking at a god. A dark saviour who would stand back and let others destroy themselves for him, for he had no doubt in his mind that Jinyoung was not going to fight along these people. He would use them, just as he had used all of them.
“I didn’t think you’d be fine with this,” he remarked to Jaebum, who hadn’t moved or said anything.
Jaebum only stared straight ahead determinedly, his jaw set. “As long as nobody gets hurt.” He turned and left Wonpil alone on the roof to stare down at the chanting crowd surrounding the dark figure in their midst. He kept looking at Jinyoung, standing in the middle of an adoring crowd. Arms raised, fire lit beneath him. A phoenix rising from the ashes. He’d seen another man standing like that on a TV screen five years ago, arms raised, surrounded by a destruction he had wrought on himself.
Park Jinyoung, Park Jinyoung, Park Jinyoung.
Carefully picking his way amongst the sleeping bodies littering the living room floor, Jae headed into the bathroom and closed the door softly behind him. He checked his phone for the time; a little past 2am. He could hear Jackson snoring on the floor of Sungjin’s bedroom - Brian was on the bed and Mark, Bambam and Yugyeom were sprawled around the living room. Jae himself had scored the lumpy couch, but it was little comfort to his bruised hip bone. It was still throbbing now, as he flushed the toilet without using it and washed his face in the sink. He gave the tiny window a onceover and wished, not for the last time, that he had a power that was actually useful. Maybe something that could flatten him out enough to slither through impossible cracks like Sungjin’s tiny bathroom window.
The door hinges whined softly behind him and he whipped around, a yell rising in his throat, to find Brian looking pointedly at him as he shut the door. “What the fuck are you doing in here?!” Jae whispered in a strangled voice. “What if I was taking a leak?!”
“Well you’re clearly not and I knew you weren’t,” Brian shot back in a heated whisper, “because you would’ve locked the door, idiot.”
Jae had half a mind to give him the finger but settled for a glare. “The lock’s broken, dumbass. And if you’re done being a perv I’m just going back to bed.” He made to shove past, but Brian caught his arm.
“Don’t be stupid,” he said in a low voice. “You’re wearing your jacket. Did you seriously think I didn’t catch on to what you were thinking of doing? I could see it all over your face while Jackson was talking earlier. You know, for a private detective you’re not very good at being sneaky.”
“Very astute observation,” Jae retorted coolly, wrenching his arm out of Brian’s grip and stepping away from him. “Maybe you should take my job instead. If we all get out of this without getting thrown into jail, at least.”
For a second Brian looked as though he was going to come up with another smart answer, but he seemed to think better of it and took a deep, calming breath. Jae was almost grateful; they could be at this all night and he was wasting time. He noticed, not for the first time that day, just how tiny Sungjin’s bathroom really was. If he stepped forward even a little he’d be in Brian’s breathing space, and it wasn’t an area he particularly wanted to be in. He could only hope no one else woke up and decided that they needed a bathroom break. “Jackson… he doesn’t really know much, does he?” Brian finally said.
Jae blinked at him in surprise. “No, he doesn’t.” He sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Look, I know -.”
“You can leave,” Brian cut in before he could say anything else. “I won’t stop you.” As Jae raised his eyebrows in disbelief, he continued, “Like I said, I don’t know where you’re going but I know you’re going to go and try to fix this all by yourself. That’s who you are.” A shadow of a grin played over his lips. “Saying the first thing you think of, jumping headfirst into things… you’ve been doing it for a long time. You did it with Junhyuk, and yeah, that didn’t really work out, but you’re not the type to just quit when something doesn’t work the first time. You’ve always been able to get up and keep going when I couldn’t.”
Jae squinted at him. This didn’t sound like Brian at all. “What about Sungjin’s orders?”
Brian’s expression hardened and he looked away. “Sungjin does what he thinks is best,” he finally said quietly. “That doesn’t always mean it’s right.”
“Those are some words I never thought I’d hear you say,” Jae blinked. “Are you sure you’re Brian Kang and not Jinyoung with a stolen face?”
Brian laughed, a sound Jae hadn’t heard since high school. A lifetime ago. “Who else knows that it was you and not Junhyuk who threw Mark’s bag into the Han? I never told anyone.”
“Mark punched Junhyuk in the face for that,” Jae remembered, suddenly chuckling at the memory. He’d been so terrified of the look on Mark’s face that he couldn’t even bring himself to confess that it was him who did it. “You didn’t even try to stop me that time.”
“Maybe back then I already knew it was futile.”
Jae stopped laughing. The grief, which he usually managed to keep locked behind floodgates, was steadily cascading through him. He could feel Junhyuk’s hand steadily growing colder in his as he came to in the middle of a battlefield. Even now, it was hard to remember what Junhyuk’s smile had looked like. In Jae’s mind it was always his resting face, settled in an expression of total peace, that haunted him at night. “I miss those days,” he muttered. “When our decisions didn’t result in death and destruction.”
But Brian only gave him a hard, pointed look. “We only thought they didn’t,” he pointed out. “The second we decided to be Supers we lost the freedom to think our decisions didn’t affect anyone and anything around us. Even Sungjin knows it… it just took you a lot longer to figure that out. I guess Sungjin was right in that aspect; people really don’t change.” He heaved a big sigh and fished around in the pocket of his jeans. A little white card flashed in his fingers.
“I know we haven’t been friends for a while but don’t you think we’re past the business card phase?” Jae remarked drily.
“Shut up,” Brian pressed the card into his hand. “It’s the number for a therapist.” He smirked at the look Jae gave him. “No need to look so flattered, you’re not the only one I’d recommend therapy to. You never talked to anyone after you… after Junhyuk died, did you?”
“There wasn’t anyone to talk to,” Jae muttered.
“You could have talked to me.” Jae looked at Brian, and saw the sudden weariness in the lines under his eyes. Had he always looked so tired? “I’ve been thinking since we found out what Sungjin did that maybe I’ve been unfair to you. Actually, maybe I’ve been thinking about it these past few years. I don’t know. Sure, you were a big idiot for going after Junhyuk alone like that,” Jae opened his mouth indignantly but Brian waved him off, “but I’m sorry I abandoned you the way I did. You needed help and I didn’t know how to give it to you. I guess in that way I never really was a hero, since I couldn’t even help my own friend.”
“I’m starting to think none of us really were,” Jae said slowly. He waited for Brian to suddenly snap into a big mocking grin and end this whole conversation with an insult. It didn’t come. “Some fucked up heroes we are,” he commented. “If I was a civilian I sure as hell wouldn’t want someone like me saving them.”
Brian broke into a grin, tinged with derision but nonetheless genuine. “I wouldn’t either,” he hesitated, then held out a hand. “Aren’t you supposed to be going?”
Once upon a time, in a school gym, Brian had insisted on handshakes every time he kicked Jae’s butt. Sometimes Jae used to think it meant "Sorry I’m better than you,", until one day, deep into their senior year, he figured out it really meant "No hard feelings". He paused, and took Brian’s hand. Brian’s fingers were hard and dry, calloused, as though he had never stopped fighting for a single day. “You know, you and Sungjin are more alike than you think,” Brian said as they stood there, mid handshake, squashed together in the middle of Sungjin’s shoebox of a bathroom.
“What does that mean?” Jae bristled.
But Brian just shook his head. “It means what it means. Call me if you get into trouble and need me to bail your ass out,” he said with a mocking grin, and stood aside to let Jae out the bathroom door.
“You can wait around forever then,” Jae waved the card at him, sandwiched between two fingers. “Hey, what are you even doing now anyway?” he whispered when he was standing in the dark hallway - as was the norm for dingy, run down apartments, the light was blown and no one had bothered to replace it. “Out of curiousity.”
In the gloom, Brian’s sardonic smile seemed extra dangerous. “I’m finishing off a psychology degree and doing admin for a therapist,” he admitted almost reluctantly. “You’re holding her card. And you’d better not fucking tell anyone.” And he closed the door in Jae’s face. Jae looked at the barely visible rectangle in his hands, a million new questions shooting through his head, and slipped it into his jacket pocket. It was only when he was out under the stars, feeling the sharp night air pricking at his skin, did he allow himself to laugh.
He had to shoulder the door in to get it to open - it relented with a reluctant whine, the ‘Out To Lunch’ sign clacking against the wood. Too loud in the deepest part of the night. Jae removed it and surveyed the room. It had only been 18 days since he’d been back in his office, but it already felt alien to him. Like stepping through the door into a life that no longer existed anymore. But that was stupid, Jae shook his head, fingering the paperweight Brian had left on the shelf (he hadn’t even had the courtesy to put it back on the desk). When this was all over everything would go right back to normal - it was just weird trying to remember what normal actually meant.
The glass had been cleared from the floor, though the window still remained broken. Jae was surprised none of his stuff had been stolen yet - this wasn’t exactly the glitziest neighbourhood in Seoul. He hadn’t dared to turn on the light, instead letting the moonlight flood through the broken window. His sandwich was still on the desk. The bread still looked alright, but the fillings were a grey, furry mess. Jae didn’t even have the heart to throw it away.
He checked the time - almost 4am. He’d been haunting the building Jackson told them headquarters was, but there had been no signs of anyone coming or leaving. In the end he figured they were all probably more sensible than he was and were off getting a good nights’ sleep. It was then that he realized that his office was a mere 3 blocks away. It seemed that the universe would never cease to amaze him.
One thing was for sure though: the thought of sleeping on the carpet with its ancient, unidentifiable stains wasn’t one he particularly relished. He turned to leave. His phone rang, tearing the silence apart with its sudden, shrill ring. Jae jumped, fumbling in his pocket, getting ready to curse out Brian. What greeted him was an unknown number.
“Hello?” he said tentatively.
“I have one question,” the voice on the other end replied, a voice that faded and strengthened with static. It sounded vaguely familiar, but Jae couldn’t find anyone in his memory to match it. “And I think you’re the only one who can answer it.”
“Ask away then,” Jae went to stand by the broken window, feeling the chill of the night air wash over his face. His mind was already working hard on identifying the voice, but with the awful crackling connection it was hard to tell. “Though I’m sorry to say I haven’t got all night.”
“How did it feel to kill a friend?”
Jae froze. His fingers immediately flew to the raised scar on the side of his neck. His pulse was throbbing fast behind it. “What are you talking about?” he asked hoarsely. “Who is this?”
“It’s alright. I’m not mad. I just want to know how it felt, because you’re the only one who really knew how far gone he was.” The voice hesitated. “Do you think he could have been saved, if he’d lived?”
“Those are two questions now,” Jae replied carefully, staring out of the window. If he shifted to the right a little, he could see the empty street. If he raised his eyes he could see the ghostly glow of the moon, hidden behind some clouds. It was too calm to imagine that society was beginning to burn itself down, one ward away in central Seoul. It was too serene, by the broken window of his dusty office, to be discussing death.
“Just answer it,” the voice wavered.
Jae fell silent. The name was stuck somewhere in the back of his brain, blocked behind the images that were flashing behind his eyes. Brian and Mark, grim and distant and bloodied, at the foot of his hospital bed. Sungjin, eyes flashing red. Him, dying in the middle of a battlefield. Junhyuk, skidding to his knees beside him. That was the problem with memories: only the ones you never really wanted to remember stayed with you.
“I think,” he said slowly, “that if he hadn’t died for me, someone else might have killed him eventually. I could have saved him but I can’t change the world. The world would have just condemned him anyway.” His fingers stroke the scar. “And they did.”
The person at the other end said nothing. Then: “Do you think he regretted what he did? Junhyuk?”
It only took two syllables, disjointed and fractured through the static to pull an old, sepia memory from out of his head. Jae saw a boy with a smile so wide it spilled over the rest of his face, following Junhyuk around school with sparkling adoration etched so deep into his eyes it hurt to look. “Wonpil?” he asked.
He heard Wonpil - if it even was Wonpil, but Jae was so, so sure - breathing quietly on the other end of the line. The static crackled on by itself for a few seconds, then disconnected.
The school looked exactly how Jae remembered, except in his memories the sun was shining, students were streaming through the gates, and everything was golden. Now, under a flickering street lamp, Jae put his hand gingerly on the rusting gate and peered up at the boarded-up windows of the place he’d once felt most at home in. Even if the sightless moon decided to come out and paint everything silver, he knew it wouldn’t make the slightest difference.
“If you knew what you were putting out into the world you would have shut down the minute we stepped through the gate,” he remarked lightly to the ghosts of his high school years. “Someone else should have ruined you a long time ago.”
“Now there’s a thought,” said a voice behind him. Jae whirled around, his hair standing on end, fists raised in preparation. Mark laughed, sharp toothed and amused, and brushed his hands aside. “You gonna fight me, Park Jaehyung?”
Relief instantly turned into incredulity. “What are you doing here?” Jae hissed. “Does Brian know you’re out?”
“What, is Brian my mother now?” Mark laughed again, but Jae caught the bitter smile behind it. “Even my own mother doesn’t know where I am right now. And probably for the better,” he added. Catching the look on Jae’s face, he sighed. “Don’t worry, I didn’t sneak past him. Or bash him over the head, though I really wanted to. He let me go.”
Jae gave a low whistle. “He’s really determined to not listen to Sungjin this time.”
“He’ll be right back to it in the morning, don’t worry.” Under the stuttering streetlight, Mark’s teeth glinted. “What were you doing here? Brian was under the impression you were going to look for Jinyoung on your own.”
“Just thought I’d be nice and give them a good head start.” Jae flexed his fingers. A flame burst from his palm, steady and warm in the blue night air. Mark looked mildly impressed.
“I wonder what they’re doing right now,” he mused, looking wistfully up at the the school like Jae had only a few minutes before.
“Planning world domination?” Jae danced the flame down each finger, marvelling at his control. It seemed that his little chat with maybe-Wonpil had helped him see something that had tangled up with a million other thoughts snarling through his head since he woke up in that hospital bed. It was only a small thought, a thought that had probably bloomed in the dark corners of his mind years ago and could only now be given life, but he felt it all the same.
It was like this: he could have saved Junhyuk a million times over, and he would still be standing here tonight under a sightless moon, staring up at the boarded-up windows of his abandoned school and knowing that whatever he did, it would never be enough.
“Jinyoung isn’t like that,” Mark murmured through the rusty gates.
“You don’t know that.” Jae flicked his hand, and the flame puffed itself out. “You don’t know him anymore. None of us do.”
Mark said nothing, long white fingers trailing across the gate as he walked a little way away. He stopped between two streetlights, looking around furtively to make sure no one was around- not that there was anyone roaming the streets at this hour - then quickly scrambled up the wall. “That looks a lot like trespassing,” Jae remarked, left behind on the pavement.
Mark, sitting on top of the wall, held his hand out to him. “Come on.”
“You know I can’t climb that. I’m not like you.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Mark said firmly. “You’re as strong as the rest of us.”
They stared at each other in the dark. Jae had half a mind to walk away, but something in him didn’t want to disappoint the faith in Mark’s eyes. He stretched out a hand and let Mark half haul him up wards, his shoes scraping against the brick. “See?” Mark dropped down easily on the other side. “That wasn’t so hard.”
“Hmm,” Jae grumbled noncommittally. He jumped off and landed with a crunch in a carpet of dried leaves.
Mark slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket and started walking. Jae looked around the dilapidated grounds. It was weird how clearly he remembered everything now that he was in the space. There was the tree he had once fallen out of, now taller and wilder. There were the bushes he and Junhyuk had crawled through to scare Sungjin and Brian as they ate their lunch. Brian had scooped his sandwich off the ground to hurl it at them, yelling. Jae remembered a slice of ham slapping into the side of Junhyuk’s head. The bushes were covered in the vines of some unknown weed now.
“Well this brings back memories,” he commented, but Mark didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk anymore. They went round to the back, where the grounds gave way to training gyms and connected hallways. There was something sad in the way they observed Mark and Jae walking through, wrapped in a blanket of neglect and silence. Mark tried opening one of the gym doors, but it was bolted shut.
“We could break a window,” Jae suggested, but Mark shook his head. They kept walking, reaching the steps that led down to the playing field. Mark suddenly sat down, and Jae sat beside him. He had no idea what Mark was thinking, but he thought he could hazard a guess - hero school had taught them duty and responsibility, not how to process the emotions that came with it. So he sat still, staring at the field and trying to imagine it filled with running, yelling, happy teenagers, and waited.
“You never did say why you escaped from Brian,” he suddenly remembered.
“Oh,” Mark seemed to revive a little. “It’s nothing. Just got some people out of a few burning buildings and took out some would-be arsonists, that’s all.”
Jae smirked. “Well look at you, you little vigilante. Anyone would think you used to be a Super once.”
Mark’s mouth quirked up into a half smile that quickly fell. “You know, Yugyeom was insistent on leaving to go help people. I think even Brian was impressed, though he didn’t let him. And I know I told him to stay, but that was so he wouldn’t get mixed up in it. I keep thinking, if I hadn’t failed to do my job, would he be someone patrolling the streets right now? Would he be someone you could put your faith in and know that he would come through for you?”
“We fucked up,” Jae said, but something bitter had settled in the back of his throat where guilt might have been. How much of this was their burden to carry when it had all started with Sungjin?
“Jinyoung and I used to sit here like this all the time,” Mark said wearily. “When you guys were goofing around down there. He never really wanted to join in, so we’d just sit here. He was always thinking, even back then. Thinking of how to get out of homework, how to ace a test with as little studying as possible. It was all fake, of course,” he laughed, without much joy. “He was top of everything without even trying. Being good at anything just came naturally to him. He just always wanted people to think that he was struggling too.”
“Your goal was to get to the top too,” Jae remarked.
“True, but I didn't want the fame, just the fortune. Jinyoung wanted everything.” Mark shook his head. “Jinyoung’s always had an ideal version of himself in his head and he’s constantly working to get to that person, even if it means making people see him as less than what he really is. That’s why I wasn’t surprised to find out the stunt on TV was fake. Jinyoung’s power is literally to mimic. He’s always been more comfortable being someone else.”
Jae thought of first year Jinyoung, rushing out of the classroom every time Mark walked past, the very picture of eager innocence. He thought of them sitting together on the steps of the school entrance, books in their laps and Jinyoung firing off a dozen questions at once. "But if I tried to disarm him like that wouldn’t he just come back and hit me? What about that move you showed me last time? Is it alright to carry a civilian like this"? It wasn’t too different to Wonpil and Junhyuk laughing together at the water fountain, to the way Wonpil took every word Junhyuk said as gospel. Friendship sometimes could be fragile but idolatry lasted forever.
“Is that why you pushed him away?” he asked.
Mark sighed. “No, that’s on me. Being close to someone scares me.”
“You’re sitting next to me right now.”
“Huh.” Mark’s teeth glinted. “Well. Maybe people do change.” He suddenly yawned. “Is your place near here? I’m not going back to Sungjin’s.”
“There’s a motel close by. We can crash there,” Jae remembered. They got up and went back round to the gate. Walking down the entrance steps, Jae had a distinct feeling that they were both leaving something behind.
At the gate, Mark’s long white fingers gripped at the rusting metal. “I’m tired,” he admitted, looking weary. “What are we going to do with him if we manage to get him?” he asked, not looking at Jae. “How are we even supposed to get him to surrender quietly? The whole country knows his name now. They think they know what he’s done, even though we know it was a lie. Fuck, Jae. I want to believe he can still be saved, if he’d just let us.”
“But he won’t let us,” Jae finished the sentence for him.
Looking back up at the windows, Mark’s eyes narrowed. “You were right, just now. What you said. I wish someone had burned this place down a long time ago.”
Jae had nothing to say to that because the feeling was mutual. Instead he waited silently as Mark released the gate, the chains wrapped around it rattling angrily. It reminded Jae of the chains bound to their wrists, linking them to each other the day they smiled and said their first hellos, none of them knowing that there had never been a key. Only Junhyuk had managed to escape, but at what cost? Surely death wasn’t the only solution.
“You know, if it was still open, this would’ve been our 10 year reunion,” Mark said offhandedly as they walked away down the street. It was almost 5am.
Jae chuckled despite himself. “Should we go get some champagne to celebrate? Wait,” he faltered, as a thought hit him, “are you telling me…?”
“Yup,” Mark’s face was completely sombre. “On our 5 year reunion we all lost our jobs and now, on our 10 year reunion, we might lose a whole lot more than that.” He glanced at Jae, and his mouth quirked up into an ironic smile. “Our lives really do suck.”
“Think of Brian right now,” Jae told him seriously. “You left him to babysit Jackson and Bambam on his own.”
Mark’s grin was wolfish. “He deserved it.”
The receptionist didn’t even bat an eyelid when she passed over the key, just gave the two yawning, unshaven men in front of her a cool onceover before informing them that breakfast would be served until 10am and not a minute after. Jae was only half listening, waves of exhaustion crashing down on him as they took the shuddering lift up to their room, Mark leaning against the wall with his eyes half closed. He didn’t even care that the room had a stale, musty smell or that there was only one bed, shoving off his shoes without bothering to untie the laces before pitching straight on to it.
He was dimly aware of Mark thumping down beside him, shoulder crushing his arm. He shifted out from underneath him and thought he heard Mark mutter "Thanks for being around, Jae," before he drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
tbc
day6/got7
pg-15
almost exactly 2 weeks and 5 days to the end of the world as jae knows it. (superhero au)
<<< part 3
Back in Sungjin’s apartment, Jae splashed icy cold water over his face and stared at himself in the cracked mirror in the dingy bathroom. The face reflected back was still his usual weary-of-the-universe self, despite feeling like ten years had passed between this morning and now. He ran a hand across the stubble speckling his jaw - of course he’d forget to pack a shaver - and felt a little like the concrete squares dotting the wall behind him where the dull pink tiles had fallen off. Completely bland and uninteresting on its own and yet somehow necessary in making everything feel complete. It was not a feeling he could say he was fond of.
Now that he was thinking about it, it was weird just how awful Sungjin’s apartment was. Sure, he’d never been a flamboyant, overly concerned with decorating kind of guy but fastidious, fussy Sungjin - who would rather hold himself for hours than use a public restroom - living in squalor? Compared to this, Jae’s own apartment suddenly seemed luxurious. But then again, he thought, eyes swivelling to the tiny excuse of a window over the toilet, maybe government work really was as terrible paying as it was made out to be.
Someone stared back at him through the glass.
Afterwards Jae would maintain that he had not screamed, just yelped in surprise at seeing something unexpected. Brian’s grin would be shit-eating, and Mark would tell him outright that any sound as high pitched and shrill as that could only count as a scream. Whichever it was, it sent everyone thundering to the bathroom, where the door was kicked open without hesitation. Jae had time to glimpse the lock breaking clean off the wall before Sungjin’s anxious face filled the doorway.
“What the hell is going on?” Mark barked, which was all the attention Jae got before everyone noticed the figure now firmly wedged in the tiny window frame. For a second nobody spoke. Mark was the one who voiced out the expression on everyone’s face: “What the fuck is Jackson doing in the bathroom window?” In return, Jackson grimaced and shot Brian a pleading look.
“Hey guys…” he said a little lamely. “Been a while huh? Would you mind getting me out of here, if it isn’t too much trouble? I’m kinda stuck.”
Out of habit, Brian glanced briefly at Sungjin, whose nod was the ghost of what he would normally have given. Brian stepped forward with his hands half raised and gave a half-hearted tug. Jackson flew through the window frame with an almighty rip and crashed straight into Jae, who bounced off the sink. They both landed at Sungjin and Brian’s feet, Jae groaning. For once he was glad he wasn’t a ten tonne muscle head. At this point in time the last thing he wanted to owe Sungjin was a brand new sink.
“Aww Jae,” Jackson looked up at him from where he was sprawled over his stomach. “We haven’t played around like this since high school.” He reached up to pat Jae on the cheek and frowned. “Can’t say I’m a fan of the stubble though.” Jae shoved him off and clambered to his feet, pushing Brian and Mark aside to get out of the tiny, cramped bathroom. Bambam and Yugyeom followed him out, looking completely confused.
“Who’s that?” Bambam asked as Jae flung himself on to the sunken couch, the back of his hipbone throbbing where it had hit the sink.
“You’ll find out soon enough,” Jae said, throwing a lumpy cushion over his face.
Sure enough, there was another crash and the sound of a muffled struggle. Bambam and Yugyeom looked over their shoulders, prepared to either jump at Jackson or away from Jackson, depending on the situation, but all that appeared was a grim-looking Brian and a sheepish looking Jackson, his hands held behind his back by Mark. Sungjin pulled a chair over from the kitchen and Mark unceremoniously dumped Jackson into it. Jae removed the pillow from his face.
“Well this is homely,” Jackson said, looking around the dingy room. Brian made to sit on the other end of the couch and Jae reluctantly swung his legs around and forced himself to sit upright. His hip bone throbbed in protest. “And hey, you’ve got some new guys!” Jackson grinned at Bambam and Yugyeom, who stared back blankly. “Hmm, you really could’ve gone with some friendlier ones,” Jackson remarked. “Are they ex-Supers? I don’t remember seeing them before, and they look younger than you.”
“You’re being oddly cooperative,” Sungjin remarked casually, seating himself in another chair and crossing one leg over his knee. He looked completely at ease, his face set in a faintly amused expression but seated like that, with his arms crossed over his chest and an authoritative demeanour radiating from under the calm smile reminded Jae of why he had never dared to really defy Sungjin before. It was no wonder the Power Regulation Commission hadn’t fallen apart yet, not when Sungjin could get anyone to talk just by looking at them. And god forbid if he ever lost his temper.
“That’s because I’m not here to be uncooperative,” Jackson said, looking warily over at Brian. Jae didn’t have to imagine what Brian had probably threatened to do to him. Not after what he had almost done to Bambam.
“What are you really here for Jackson?” Mark asked testily. “Are you here to spy on us now? Act as a double agent? Because if you are, you’re really not doing a very good job at it.”
Jackson sighed theatrically. “Alright, I’ll come clean. You’re right. I’m not here for any of those things. Coming here was my own decision, and no one else’s. I’m... I came because…” he hesitated, and Jae saw that the next words Jackson was going to say were not going to be easy for him. “Because… uhh… I… fuck,” he breathed, looking pained. “This was a lot easier to say in my head.”
“You need us to help you stop Jinyoung,” Sungjin said quietly. Jackson swallowed and looked at him.
“He needs to be stopped.” His voice wavered slightly and he cleared his throat. “And you guys are the only ones who can do it.”
Jae and Mark exchanged glances. Brian scowled and looked away. Sungjin sat back in his chair and drummed his fingers on his thigh, regarding Jackson with a thoughtful look.
“And what if we said no?”
“…and then I left, and now I’m here sitting in front of you,” Dowoon concluded, stretching his arms behind his head and stifling a yawn. He took a long drag of water from the crystalline glass set on the table and pretended to admire the view out the window. Even the golden glow of the setting sun couldn’t brighten the faded sign of the butcher opposite him. Below, people - mostly stay at home mothers and aunties - milled around with umbrellas hooked over their arms, doing their dinner shopping. Even after coming here multiple times over the better part of a year it still baffled Dowoon that a group of people who had earned the grudging respect of some of the worst criminals in Seoul worked out of a nondescript flat over a vegetable and fruit shop in the middle of an ordinary neighbourhood.
“Well,” Jinyoung said into the silence. “So it was Sungjin who got Junhyuk killed, huh? Damn, he was the last person I would think to do something like that. I can’t believe I used to look up to him once.” He chuckled wryly, and a darker look stole across his eyes. “Though I guess letting people down seems to be all those guys can do.”
Dowoon did a quick sweep around the room. Jackson was noticeably absent. Jaebum looked like he was struggling to process what he had just learned. Wonpil looked troubled but kept his usual calm disposition. Across the table Jinyoung was scrutinizing him. He looked sort of different from the last time Dowoon saw him - wearier? Older? Maybe it was just the impression Jinyoung had left on him after that TV stunt - like a million other people across the city, heck across the country, he’d seen the clip playing over one of the multiple screens that littered the city, just as he was crossing the street. He and a million others heard the screams when that gunshot went off. It was surreal knowing that amongst the hundreds of people gasping and yelling around him in shock, he was the only one who knew just what exactly was going on.
“That was interesting, what you did at the bank just now,” he remarked casually, discretely looking away before Jinyoung could steal his power. “Were there any casualties?”
Jaebum immediately looked over at Jinyoung. Hmm, thought Dowoon. That was new. “It was a fake gun,” Jinyoung said as if it wasn’t particularly important. He cleared his throat. “So they were trying to put together a little team to take us out? That’s interesting… that’s very interesting.” He looked at Wonpil. “Can we pull information about these guys from the PRC database?”
“I’ve already told you all about Bambam and Yugyeom,” Dowoon pointed out. “I know them from our time on the street, you won’t find any information more personal than what I just told you.”
“That might be true,” Jinyoung said with an easy grin. “But I’m just going to check it out anyway. It’s a little hard to trust a spy, especially one that can erase his presence without warning. I’m sure you understand.”
“Totally understandable,” Dowoon sat back into his chair with an equally easy smile. “Check away. Got any questions?” he added, looking at Jaebum and Wonpil. “Wait… where’s Jackson?”
“I have one question,” Wonpil said between typing into his laptop, ignoring the second question. “You said you left as soon as you heard that other guy leave… the really strong one with the voice projection. What was his name again?”
“Youngjae?” Dowoon helpfully supplied.
“Yeah, that one. What did you do with him?”
Dowoon sniffed and rubbed his nose. “He was a loose end. I took care of him.” He shrugged. “He knew what the mission was and he knew what he was training against, even though Sungjin was careful to leave the most important bits out. If he blabbed about anything, the Regulation Commission, police and national guard would be here so fast you wouldn’t have time to blink. Although,” he added with a respectful nod at Jinyoung, “I’m sure you would have thought of something on the spot.”
“So he’s dead,” Wonpil looked up from his screen, a slightly disapproving frown tugging at his mouth. Dowoon filed that expression away in his memory for safekeeping.
“He’s been taken care of,” he said firmly. “You can look him up too if you like, but he won’t be bothering us anytime soon.”
For a second he and Wonpil seemed locked in an invisible struggle, where Wonpil seemed determined to find something on him to prove he was lying. But Dowoon knew that Wonpil’s static sense didn’t extend to lie detection, and either way he wasn’t lying, not really. Youngjae was no threat to them at that very moment; he’d made sure of that. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Wonpil broke off the stare to address Jinyoung. “The info checks out,” he announced. “Their powers, their history… it’s all here.”
“Good,” Jinyoung nodded back, but looked no less suspicious. He stopped staring at Dowoon to place a hand on Jaebum’s shoulder. “Hey, you okay?” he asked, genuine concern colouring his voice. “You’ve been really quiet.”
Jaebum covered his face with his hands and heaved a giant sigh. When he reemerged, eyes narrowed and a barely concealed rage clenching his jaw, Dowoon felt that he had suddenly entered dangerous territory. If being around Sungjin had felt like constantly having a black panther prowling around in the dark, never knowing when it might pounce, being around Jaebum in a rage was like being thrown straight into a cage with a starving jaguar. Either way, you were almost guaranteed to get your throat ripped out.
Jaebum raised his head, looking straight at Jinyoung. “I’m going to fucking kill him,” he snarled.
Something unspoken seemed to pass between them, one that Dowoon wasn’t privy to. Jinyoung didn’t smile, although Dowoon got the impression that he had. Instead, he put his arm around Jaebum’s shoulders and ruffled his hair. “Welcome back,” he said, his face completely serious.
Dowoon drained his glass of water and pretended not to notice the shiver that crept down his spine.
“What if we said we weren’t going to stop Jinyoung anymore?”
Sungjin’s fingers were still drumming on his thigh. Everyone gaped. Jackson looked as though Sungjin had just told him the world was going to end tomorrow, which Jae suspected probably wasn’t too absurd a consequence considering the circumstances. Brian got heavily to his feet. “What are you talking about?” he demanded. “Wasn’t the whole point of us being here to stop Jinyoung?”
Jae blinked. It seemed that Brian was full of surprises today. First refusing to look at Sungjin and now full on arguing with him? What was next, leaving the room and never coming back? Brian had never defied or questioned anything Sungjin said or did before - Jae had always felt that was one of the reasons Sungjin kept him around.
“Wha- wait- no!” Jackson burst out wildly. “You have to help me stop him,” he pleaded. “Listen to me, you’re the only one who can handle this now.”
“The authorities are more than capable of handling situations like these,” Sungjin mused. “In fact, we should probably let them do their jobs. This is turning out to be far more complicated than I thought it was. If we keep going, even I don’t know what will happen to us if we get caught. At best we all lose our jobs. At worst, we go to jail with the rest of you.”
Jae heard Mark swear under his breath, but he knew better. There was no way any of them were really falling for this, after what Sungjin had revealed about Junhyuk. And what had he said back on the train? “This mission isn’t over, no matter how much we want it to be.” Not exactly the words of someone who’d make a snap judgment to quit. Sungjin had always been two steps ahead of everyone else and Jae was determined to catch up.
Jackson struggled against his bonds, looking panicked. “Sungjin, this is serious. You don’t know what Jinyoung’s capable of, you don’t know what will happen if this doesn’t end now! You guys…” he looked wildly around the room. “You’re the only people who can stop him.”
“Sungjin, you know what will happen to them if we don’t do this,” Mark stepped in, frowning. “You said it yourself, if we don’t get to them first who knows what the authorities would do to them?”
“The death penalty is still legal,” said Brian quietly. “And terrorism won’t get off with a light punishment.” Jackson looked horrified and Bambam turned pale.
Sungjin rubbed the area between his eyebrows and closed his eyes. He sighed, and to an untrained eye the look he gave Jackson seemed a little kinder. To Jae, however, behind his eyes was still cold hard steel. “Okay,” he agreed. “But you have to tell us everything, Jackson. And I mean everything.” He motioned at Mark, who untied Jackson’s hands. “You can start by telling us just what the hell happened at that bank this morning.”
So that was Sungjin’s game, Jae thought as Jackson set off into an eager account of everything that went down. It was all just a test to make sure Jackson would tell them the truth, to make sure that he really was here out of sincerity and with no other motive. He had them all wrapped around his little finger, and it had been almost effortless. Were they all just part of a long game Sungjin seemed to be playing with an unseen opponent? It was hard to tell.
“Uhh guys,” Yugyeom interrupted just as Jackson had gotten to the part that Jinyoung’s gun had been a fake. He was standing by the dirt streaked window, looking down at the street below. “You might want to check this out.” Mark groaned as Sungjin turned on the TV. Brian and Jae joined Yugyeom at the window to look down at the group of people marching down the street. They all wore black balaclavas, and as they watched one of the group transformed his arms into two writhing tentacles and proceeded to smash the windows of the bank branch on the corner. The group immediately scattered along the street to the sound of breaking glass and shouts of terror. A firebreather set a store alight. In the distance, sirens were screaming.
Jae tore his eyes away from the chaos unfolding below them to watch an almost identical balaclava-clad group marching down the main boulevard to City Hall on TV, some carrying signs. A flying woman with wings with a man strapped to her was swooping low over the crowd. The man seemed to be saying something. Mark turned up the volume.
“THE REVOLUTION STARTS NOW!” the man was yelling, his voice projected through nothing but his voice box. “TODAY WE TAKE BACK WHAT WAS STOLEN FROM US! TODAY WE DECLARE WAR ON SOCIETY!” He kept going, but Sungjin muted the TV. His phone was exploding with notifications, and finally started ringing as they all stared at each other.
“I have to get to work,” he said decisively, glancing down at his phone. “Don’t any of you try anything while I’m gone - I’ll update you as soon as I can. Younghyun,” Brian looked up, “make sure none of them leave this apartment. And get as much information out of Jackson as you can. I’m counting on you.” And with that, he finally answered the phone and exited the apartment. “Yes, I know. I’m on my way,” was all they heard before the door closed on them.
“Holy fuck,” Mark breathed, turning the volume back up.
“Shouldn’t we be going to help the people down there?” Yugyeom asked. He hadn’t moved from the window, and they could see the flames from below painting his face orange.
Jae looked helplessly at Mark, whose jaw was set. The expression on his face was conflicted. “We can’t. Don’t get me wrong Yugyeom, I want to help as much as you do but if we can’t risk getting caught using our powers and putting this whole mission in jeopardy.” He sat down suddenly on the couch. “We have a mission,” he said haltingly, looking frustrated. “And that takes first priority. That’s what Supers have to do.”
“I wouldn’t let you go anyway,” Brian added. “None of us are leaving this apartment until Sungjin comes back.” He went to stand beside Yugyeom, and Jae saw the same conflicted look on him. Red and blue light flickered over his face. “The authorities are already here anyway,” he said, as if to reassure himself. “They can handle small fry like this.”
“Maybe I had Jinyoung all wrong,” Jackson said faintly, watching the march on TV. Chants of PARK JINYOUNG! PARK JINYOUNG! PARK JINYOUNG! blared from the speakers. “All this time I thought we were the only pawns in his game. Now look at this,” he motioned at the screen. “They’re all his pawns now. All these people who had their dreams snatched away… they were just waiting for someone to come out and tell them that that was wrong. They were just waiting for someone to save them.”
Jae turned to him. “That was powerful, but I think monologuing only works when the rest of us know what is actually going on.” A mug on the table burst into a weak flame, and Mark snuffed it out with a wry grin. Jae was relieved that he could make at least someone smile after everything that was going on.
By the time Jackson was done describing the last fight he had with Jinyoung and storming out, a plan had formed in Jae’s head. Maybe it was selfish, adding fire to an already chaotic situation. Maybe Mark would never speak to him again. But between Jinyoung and Sungjin, between politics and societal judgment, everything had just been somebody else’s game and Jae was sick of playing. It was clear that Jinyoung no longer trusted Jackson and Jaebum enough to really tell them what he was up to, but there was one person left that Jae knew if he tried hard enough, he could get through to. As night began to fall and the glow of the flames below softened and extinguished, Jae was convinced that what he was about to do would be perfectly justified.
“Look at all this,” Jinyoung spread a hand through the air. Standing with one foot up on the edge of the rooftop and the orange glow from below flickering across his face, Wonpil thought there was something sinister growing in the shadows where the fire’s glow didn’t reach him. Glowing embers from the fires below floated around them, the sound of shattering glass punctured the night sky, and Jinyoung smiled.
“What are we going to do next?” Wonpil asked him. His skin had been pricking unpleasantly since Dowoon had returned and had only amplified when they stepped out to inspect the riot Jinyoung had evoked. Before this he’d felt the cries of terror reverberating around the city, the vibrations of thousands of running footsteps beating at him, and thought that was what had made him so unsettled. But now the vibrations had settled to a hum as the riot police pushed back those on the march, civilians took shelter, and still the feeling remained. He looked up at the sky, hoping to seek some comfort in the stars, but they were hidden behind a veil of orange tinged smoke.
A police car arrived squealing directly under their feet. They watched masked perpetrators scatter out of the broken windows of a jewellers’ and disappear into the night, but not before someone yelled, “The police can’t save you! No one can save you anymore!” There was a smattering of jeers from the windows of residential buildings as the police exited the vehicle to find a crime scene devoid of criminals.
Wonpil narrowed his eyes. Beside him, Jinyoung was still smiling. Jaebum was crouched on his other side, surveying the streets doggedly. It wasn’t hard to guess who he was looking for; after Dowoon had been dismissed and news of the riots reached them, Wonpil had known immediately that Sungjin would be out in the field. What was hard to guess was what Jaebum was really thinking - whatever he had told Jackson earlier seemed to be completely tossed aside in his pursuit of Sungjin. It seemed to have done some good though; after seeing the bloodlust in his eyes Jinyoung’s suspicions of Jaebum’s loyalty had lessened a little. Wonpil didn’t like to think what might happen if they ran into Sungjin this very minute. “What now, Jinyoung?” he repeated.
Jinyoung turned to him. His expression was just as calm and sure as always but his eyes glittered with barely contained glee. His hair fluttered in the breeze, embers rising up around him. “It’s just like I guessed,” he said. “I knew we couldn’t have been the only ones to recognize the injustice. Look at all of them! All this time they were waiting for someone to rise up and show them the way.” He laughed lightly but all Wonpil could hear was the contempt in his voice. “The kindling was already there, all it took was one tiny spark.”
Wonpil frowned. When Jinyoung had first started plotting behind Jaebum’s back, he’d never said anything about starting revolutions. Wonpil had thought it was a good idea at the time too, announcing their intentions, even being the one to suggest hacking into the national network to broadcast it. He’d never have guessed that it would lead to Jinyoung becoming the figurehead of an unplanned uprising. And yet it just seemed so fitting.
“There’s power in numbers,” Jinyoung was saying. “The people have realized their mistake. And if they haven’t yet, well…” he trailed off and shrugged. “Tomorrow more will come to us, and then we can really make a point. We’re so close now.”
Wonpil felt an urge to shake him just to get him back on course. “Are we making a point, or are you?” he asked before he could stop himself. Jaebum shifted slightly at Jinyoung’s feet.
Jinyoung fixed him with a quiet, bewildered look. Even in the dark, with nothing but an orange glow hitting the most defined parts of Jinyoung’s face, Wonpil could still see the hurt written on it. “Don’t go soft on me now, Wonpil,” he said, so quietly Wonpil was sure he was the only one who heard. The fire below them crackled and spat into the silence. “You’re the only one I can still count on.”
For a few seconds they stared at each other, and Wonpil was the first to look away. “I’m just worried about what this means for you,” he said evenly. “I thought we were all in this together but it’s only your name and your face they all know now - the authorities will be looking for you.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Jinyoung turned back to the street. “It’s not me who’ll be out in the streets.” So saying, he stepped right off the edge of the roof, floating down to the pavement and landing lightly. He set off down the street, and Wonpil felt the excited buzz in the air as spectators at their windows realized who he was. There were some hisses of disapproval, but doors slammed, and soon a handful of people were following him. Wonpil spotted some clad in balaclavas among the motley gathering.
“My friends,” Wonpil heard his voice echoing, smooth and unruffled, up to the rooftops. “I thank you for joining the cause.”
Murderer, voices hissed from the windows. Hero, those on the ground cried out.
“The truth will stand!” Jinyoung declared. “Those who have silenced us and forced into the shadows are none other than society themselves. They have stolen your lives and your dreams based on nothing but senseless fear! Will you let them get away with it?”
No, screamed the crowd.
“Will you let others determine how you should live?”
No.
Jinyoung raised his arms amidst cheers and applause. Wonpil could see the charming, heroic smile on his face. Seeing Jinyoung standing like that, silhouetted against a burning building, Wonpil had the distinct impression that he was looking at a god. A dark saviour who would stand back and let others destroy themselves for him, for he had no doubt in his mind that Jinyoung was not going to fight along these people. He would use them, just as he had used all of them.
“I didn’t think you’d be fine with this,” he remarked to Jaebum, who hadn’t moved or said anything.
Jaebum only stared straight ahead determinedly, his jaw set. “As long as nobody gets hurt.” He turned and left Wonpil alone on the roof to stare down at the chanting crowd surrounding the dark figure in their midst. He kept looking at Jinyoung, standing in the middle of an adoring crowd. Arms raised, fire lit beneath him. A phoenix rising from the ashes. He’d seen another man standing like that on a TV screen five years ago, arms raised, surrounded by a destruction he had wrought on himself.
Park Jinyoung, Park Jinyoung, Park Jinyoung.
Carefully picking his way amongst the sleeping bodies littering the living room floor, Jae headed into the bathroom and closed the door softly behind him. He checked his phone for the time; a little past 2am. He could hear Jackson snoring on the floor of Sungjin’s bedroom - Brian was on the bed and Mark, Bambam and Yugyeom were sprawled around the living room. Jae himself had scored the lumpy couch, but it was little comfort to his bruised hip bone. It was still throbbing now, as he flushed the toilet without using it and washed his face in the sink. He gave the tiny window a onceover and wished, not for the last time, that he had a power that was actually useful. Maybe something that could flatten him out enough to slither through impossible cracks like Sungjin’s tiny bathroom window.
The door hinges whined softly behind him and he whipped around, a yell rising in his throat, to find Brian looking pointedly at him as he shut the door. “What the fuck are you doing in here?!” Jae whispered in a strangled voice. “What if I was taking a leak?!”
“Well you’re clearly not and I knew you weren’t,” Brian shot back in a heated whisper, “because you would’ve locked the door, idiot.”
Jae had half a mind to give him the finger but settled for a glare. “The lock’s broken, dumbass. And if you’re done being a perv I’m just going back to bed.” He made to shove past, but Brian caught his arm.
“Don’t be stupid,” he said in a low voice. “You’re wearing your jacket. Did you seriously think I didn’t catch on to what you were thinking of doing? I could see it all over your face while Jackson was talking earlier. You know, for a private detective you’re not very good at being sneaky.”
“Very astute observation,” Jae retorted coolly, wrenching his arm out of Brian’s grip and stepping away from him. “Maybe you should take my job instead. If we all get out of this without getting thrown into jail, at least.”
For a second Brian looked as though he was going to come up with another smart answer, but he seemed to think better of it and took a deep, calming breath. Jae was almost grateful; they could be at this all night and he was wasting time. He noticed, not for the first time that day, just how tiny Sungjin’s bathroom really was. If he stepped forward even a little he’d be in Brian’s breathing space, and it wasn’t an area he particularly wanted to be in. He could only hope no one else woke up and decided that they needed a bathroom break. “Jackson… he doesn’t really know much, does he?” Brian finally said.
Jae blinked at him in surprise. “No, he doesn’t.” He sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Look, I know -.”
“You can leave,” Brian cut in before he could say anything else. “I won’t stop you.” As Jae raised his eyebrows in disbelief, he continued, “Like I said, I don’t know where you’re going but I know you’re going to go and try to fix this all by yourself. That’s who you are.” A shadow of a grin played over his lips. “Saying the first thing you think of, jumping headfirst into things… you’ve been doing it for a long time. You did it with Junhyuk, and yeah, that didn’t really work out, but you’re not the type to just quit when something doesn’t work the first time. You’ve always been able to get up and keep going when I couldn’t.”
Jae squinted at him. This didn’t sound like Brian at all. “What about Sungjin’s orders?”
Brian’s expression hardened and he looked away. “Sungjin does what he thinks is best,” he finally said quietly. “That doesn’t always mean it’s right.”
“Those are some words I never thought I’d hear you say,” Jae blinked. “Are you sure you’re Brian Kang and not Jinyoung with a stolen face?”
Brian laughed, a sound Jae hadn’t heard since high school. A lifetime ago. “Who else knows that it was you and not Junhyuk who threw Mark’s bag into the Han? I never told anyone.”
“Mark punched Junhyuk in the face for that,” Jae remembered, suddenly chuckling at the memory. He’d been so terrified of the look on Mark’s face that he couldn’t even bring himself to confess that it was him who did it. “You didn’t even try to stop me that time.”
“Maybe back then I already knew it was futile.”
Jae stopped laughing. The grief, which he usually managed to keep locked behind floodgates, was steadily cascading through him. He could feel Junhyuk’s hand steadily growing colder in his as he came to in the middle of a battlefield. Even now, it was hard to remember what Junhyuk’s smile had looked like. In Jae’s mind it was always his resting face, settled in an expression of total peace, that haunted him at night. “I miss those days,” he muttered. “When our decisions didn’t result in death and destruction.”
But Brian only gave him a hard, pointed look. “We only thought they didn’t,” he pointed out. “The second we decided to be Supers we lost the freedom to think our decisions didn’t affect anyone and anything around us. Even Sungjin knows it… it just took you a lot longer to figure that out. I guess Sungjin was right in that aspect; people really don’t change.” He heaved a big sigh and fished around in the pocket of his jeans. A little white card flashed in his fingers.
“I know we haven’t been friends for a while but don’t you think we’re past the business card phase?” Jae remarked drily.
“Shut up,” Brian pressed the card into his hand. “It’s the number for a therapist.” He smirked at the look Jae gave him. “No need to look so flattered, you’re not the only one I’d recommend therapy to. You never talked to anyone after you… after Junhyuk died, did you?”
“There wasn’t anyone to talk to,” Jae muttered.
“You could have talked to me.” Jae looked at Brian, and saw the sudden weariness in the lines under his eyes. Had he always looked so tired? “I’ve been thinking since we found out what Sungjin did that maybe I’ve been unfair to you. Actually, maybe I’ve been thinking about it these past few years. I don’t know. Sure, you were a big idiot for going after Junhyuk alone like that,” Jae opened his mouth indignantly but Brian waved him off, “but I’m sorry I abandoned you the way I did. You needed help and I didn’t know how to give it to you. I guess in that way I never really was a hero, since I couldn’t even help my own friend.”
“I’m starting to think none of us really were,” Jae said slowly. He waited for Brian to suddenly snap into a big mocking grin and end this whole conversation with an insult. It didn’t come. “Some fucked up heroes we are,” he commented. “If I was a civilian I sure as hell wouldn’t want someone like me saving them.”
Brian broke into a grin, tinged with derision but nonetheless genuine. “I wouldn’t either,” he hesitated, then held out a hand. “Aren’t you supposed to be going?”
Once upon a time, in a school gym, Brian had insisted on handshakes every time he kicked Jae’s butt. Sometimes Jae used to think it meant "Sorry I’m better than you,", until one day, deep into their senior year, he figured out it really meant "No hard feelings". He paused, and took Brian’s hand. Brian’s fingers were hard and dry, calloused, as though he had never stopped fighting for a single day. “You know, you and Sungjin are more alike than you think,” Brian said as they stood there, mid handshake, squashed together in the middle of Sungjin’s shoebox of a bathroom.
“What does that mean?” Jae bristled.
But Brian just shook his head. “It means what it means. Call me if you get into trouble and need me to bail your ass out,” he said with a mocking grin, and stood aside to let Jae out the bathroom door.
“You can wait around forever then,” Jae waved the card at him, sandwiched between two fingers. “Hey, what are you even doing now anyway?” he whispered when he was standing in the dark hallway - as was the norm for dingy, run down apartments, the light was blown and no one had bothered to replace it. “Out of curiousity.”
In the gloom, Brian’s sardonic smile seemed extra dangerous. “I’m finishing off a psychology degree and doing admin for a therapist,” he admitted almost reluctantly. “You’re holding her card. And you’d better not fucking tell anyone.” And he closed the door in Jae’s face. Jae looked at the barely visible rectangle in his hands, a million new questions shooting through his head, and slipped it into his jacket pocket. It was only when he was out under the stars, feeling the sharp night air pricking at his skin, did he allow himself to laugh.
He had to shoulder the door in to get it to open - it relented with a reluctant whine, the ‘Out To Lunch’ sign clacking against the wood. Too loud in the deepest part of the night. Jae removed it and surveyed the room. It had only been 18 days since he’d been back in his office, but it already felt alien to him. Like stepping through the door into a life that no longer existed anymore. But that was stupid, Jae shook his head, fingering the paperweight Brian had left on the shelf (he hadn’t even had the courtesy to put it back on the desk). When this was all over everything would go right back to normal - it was just weird trying to remember what normal actually meant.
The glass had been cleared from the floor, though the window still remained broken. Jae was surprised none of his stuff had been stolen yet - this wasn’t exactly the glitziest neighbourhood in Seoul. He hadn’t dared to turn on the light, instead letting the moonlight flood through the broken window. His sandwich was still on the desk. The bread still looked alright, but the fillings were a grey, furry mess. Jae didn’t even have the heart to throw it away.
He checked the time - almost 4am. He’d been haunting the building Jackson told them headquarters was, but there had been no signs of anyone coming or leaving. In the end he figured they were all probably more sensible than he was and were off getting a good nights’ sleep. It was then that he realized that his office was a mere 3 blocks away. It seemed that the universe would never cease to amaze him.
One thing was for sure though: the thought of sleeping on the carpet with its ancient, unidentifiable stains wasn’t one he particularly relished. He turned to leave. His phone rang, tearing the silence apart with its sudden, shrill ring. Jae jumped, fumbling in his pocket, getting ready to curse out Brian. What greeted him was an unknown number.
“Hello?” he said tentatively.
“I have one question,” the voice on the other end replied, a voice that faded and strengthened with static. It sounded vaguely familiar, but Jae couldn’t find anyone in his memory to match it. “And I think you’re the only one who can answer it.”
“Ask away then,” Jae went to stand by the broken window, feeling the chill of the night air wash over his face. His mind was already working hard on identifying the voice, but with the awful crackling connection it was hard to tell. “Though I’m sorry to say I haven’t got all night.”
“How did it feel to kill a friend?”
Jae froze. His fingers immediately flew to the raised scar on the side of his neck. His pulse was throbbing fast behind it. “What are you talking about?” he asked hoarsely. “Who is this?”
“It’s alright. I’m not mad. I just want to know how it felt, because you’re the only one who really knew how far gone he was.” The voice hesitated. “Do you think he could have been saved, if he’d lived?”
“Those are two questions now,” Jae replied carefully, staring out of the window. If he shifted to the right a little, he could see the empty street. If he raised his eyes he could see the ghostly glow of the moon, hidden behind some clouds. It was too calm to imagine that society was beginning to burn itself down, one ward away in central Seoul. It was too serene, by the broken window of his dusty office, to be discussing death.
“Just answer it,” the voice wavered.
Jae fell silent. The name was stuck somewhere in the back of his brain, blocked behind the images that were flashing behind his eyes. Brian and Mark, grim and distant and bloodied, at the foot of his hospital bed. Sungjin, eyes flashing red. Him, dying in the middle of a battlefield. Junhyuk, skidding to his knees beside him. That was the problem with memories: only the ones you never really wanted to remember stayed with you.
“I think,” he said slowly, “that if he hadn’t died for me, someone else might have killed him eventually. I could have saved him but I can’t change the world. The world would have just condemned him anyway.” His fingers stroke the scar. “And they did.”
The person at the other end said nothing. Then: “Do you think he regretted what he did? Junhyuk?”
It only took two syllables, disjointed and fractured through the static to pull an old, sepia memory from out of his head. Jae saw a boy with a smile so wide it spilled over the rest of his face, following Junhyuk around school with sparkling adoration etched so deep into his eyes it hurt to look. “Wonpil?” he asked.
He heard Wonpil - if it even was Wonpil, but Jae was so, so sure - breathing quietly on the other end of the line. The static crackled on by itself for a few seconds, then disconnected.
The school looked exactly how Jae remembered, except in his memories the sun was shining, students were streaming through the gates, and everything was golden. Now, under a flickering street lamp, Jae put his hand gingerly on the rusting gate and peered up at the boarded-up windows of the place he’d once felt most at home in. Even if the sightless moon decided to come out and paint everything silver, he knew it wouldn’t make the slightest difference.
“If you knew what you were putting out into the world you would have shut down the minute we stepped through the gate,” he remarked lightly to the ghosts of his high school years. “Someone else should have ruined you a long time ago.”
“Now there’s a thought,” said a voice behind him. Jae whirled around, his hair standing on end, fists raised in preparation. Mark laughed, sharp toothed and amused, and brushed his hands aside. “You gonna fight me, Park Jaehyung?”
Relief instantly turned into incredulity. “What are you doing here?” Jae hissed. “Does Brian know you’re out?”
“What, is Brian my mother now?” Mark laughed again, but Jae caught the bitter smile behind it. “Even my own mother doesn’t know where I am right now. And probably for the better,” he added. Catching the look on Jae’s face, he sighed. “Don’t worry, I didn’t sneak past him. Or bash him over the head, though I really wanted to. He let me go.”
Jae gave a low whistle. “He’s really determined to not listen to Sungjin this time.”
“He’ll be right back to it in the morning, don’t worry.” Under the stuttering streetlight, Mark’s teeth glinted. “What were you doing here? Brian was under the impression you were going to look for Jinyoung on your own.”
“Just thought I’d be nice and give them a good head start.” Jae flexed his fingers. A flame burst from his palm, steady and warm in the blue night air. Mark looked mildly impressed.
“I wonder what they’re doing right now,” he mused, looking wistfully up at the the school like Jae had only a few minutes before.
“Planning world domination?” Jae danced the flame down each finger, marvelling at his control. It seemed that his little chat with maybe-Wonpil had helped him see something that had tangled up with a million other thoughts snarling through his head since he woke up in that hospital bed. It was only a small thought, a thought that had probably bloomed in the dark corners of his mind years ago and could only now be given life, but he felt it all the same.
It was like this: he could have saved Junhyuk a million times over, and he would still be standing here tonight under a sightless moon, staring up at the boarded-up windows of his abandoned school and knowing that whatever he did, it would never be enough.
“Jinyoung isn’t like that,” Mark murmured through the rusty gates.
“You don’t know that.” Jae flicked his hand, and the flame puffed itself out. “You don’t know him anymore. None of us do.”
Mark said nothing, long white fingers trailing across the gate as he walked a little way away. He stopped between two streetlights, looking around furtively to make sure no one was around- not that there was anyone roaming the streets at this hour - then quickly scrambled up the wall. “That looks a lot like trespassing,” Jae remarked, left behind on the pavement.
Mark, sitting on top of the wall, held his hand out to him. “Come on.”
“You know I can’t climb that. I’m not like you.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” Mark said firmly. “You’re as strong as the rest of us.”
They stared at each other in the dark. Jae had half a mind to walk away, but something in him didn’t want to disappoint the faith in Mark’s eyes. He stretched out a hand and let Mark half haul him up wards, his shoes scraping against the brick. “See?” Mark dropped down easily on the other side. “That wasn’t so hard.”
“Hmm,” Jae grumbled noncommittally. He jumped off and landed with a crunch in a carpet of dried leaves.
Mark slipped his hands into the pockets of his jacket and started walking. Jae looked around the dilapidated grounds. It was weird how clearly he remembered everything now that he was in the space. There was the tree he had once fallen out of, now taller and wilder. There were the bushes he and Junhyuk had crawled through to scare Sungjin and Brian as they ate their lunch. Brian had scooped his sandwich off the ground to hurl it at them, yelling. Jae remembered a slice of ham slapping into the side of Junhyuk’s head. The bushes were covered in the vines of some unknown weed now.
“Well this brings back memories,” he commented, but Mark didn’t seem to be in the mood to talk anymore. They went round to the back, where the grounds gave way to training gyms and connected hallways. There was something sad in the way they observed Mark and Jae walking through, wrapped in a blanket of neglect and silence. Mark tried opening one of the gym doors, but it was bolted shut.
“We could break a window,” Jae suggested, but Mark shook his head. They kept walking, reaching the steps that led down to the playing field. Mark suddenly sat down, and Jae sat beside him. He had no idea what Mark was thinking, but he thought he could hazard a guess - hero school had taught them duty and responsibility, not how to process the emotions that came with it. So he sat still, staring at the field and trying to imagine it filled with running, yelling, happy teenagers, and waited.
“You never did say why you escaped from Brian,” he suddenly remembered.
“Oh,” Mark seemed to revive a little. “It’s nothing. Just got some people out of a few burning buildings and took out some would-be arsonists, that’s all.”
Jae smirked. “Well look at you, you little vigilante. Anyone would think you used to be a Super once.”
Mark’s mouth quirked up into a half smile that quickly fell. “You know, Yugyeom was insistent on leaving to go help people. I think even Brian was impressed, though he didn’t let him. And I know I told him to stay, but that was so he wouldn’t get mixed up in it. I keep thinking, if I hadn’t failed to do my job, would he be someone patrolling the streets right now? Would he be someone you could put your faith in and know that he would come through for you?”
“We fucked up,” Jae said, but something bitter had settled in the back of his throat where guilt might have been. How much of this was their burden to carry when it had all started with Sungjin?
“Jinyoung and I used to sit here like this all the time,” Mark said wearily. “When you guys were goofing around down there. He never really wanted to join in, so we’d just sit here. He was always thinking, even back then. Thinking of how to get out of homework, how to ace a test with as little studying as possible. It was all fake, of course,” he laughed, without much joy. “He was top of everything without even trying. Being good at anything just came naturally to him. He just always wanted people to think that he was struggling too.”
“Your goal was to get to the top too,” Jae remarked.
“True, but I didn't want the fame, just the fortune. Jinyoung wanted everything.” Mark shook his head. “Jinyoung’s always had an ideal version of himself in his head and he’s constantly working to get to that person, even if it means making people see him as less than what he really is. That’s why I wasn’t surprised to find out the stunt on TV was fake. Jinyoung’s power is literally to mimic. He’s always been more comfortable being someone else.”
Jae thought of first year Jinyoung, rushing out of the classroom every time Mark walked past, the very picture of eager innocence. He thought of them sitting together on the steps of the school entrance, books in their laps and Jinyoung firing off a dozen questions at once. "But if I tried to disarm him like that wouldn’t he just come back and hit me? What about that move you showed me last time? Is it alright to carry a civilian like this"? It wasn’t too different to Wonpil and Junhyuk laughing together at the water fountain, to the way Wonpil took every word Junhyuk said as gospel. Friendship sometimes could be fragile but idolatry lasted forever.
“Is that why you pushed him away?” he asked.
Mark sighed. “No, that’s on me. Being close to someone scares me.”
“You’re sitting next to me right now.”
“Huh.” Mark’s teeth glinted. “Well. Maybe people do change.” He suddenly yawned. “Is your place near here? I’m not going back to Sungjin’s.”
“There’s a motel close by. We can crash there,” Jae remembered. They got up and went back round to the gate. Walking down the entrance steps, Jae had a distinct feeling that they were both leaving something behind.
At the gate, Mark’s long white fingers gripped at the rusting metal. “I’m tired,” he admitted, looking weary. “What are we going to do with him if we manage to get him?” he asked, not looking at Jae. “How are we even supposed to get him to surrender quietly? The whole country knows his name now. They think they know what he’s done, even though we know it was a lie. Fuck, Jae. I want to believe he can still be saved, if he’d just let us.”
“But he won’t let us,” Jae finished the sentence for him.
Looking back up at the windows, Mark’s eyes narrowed. “You were right, just now. What you said. I wish someone had burned this place down a long time ago.”
Jae had nothing to say to that because the feeling was mutual. Instead he waited silently as Mark released the gate, the chains wrapped around it rattling angrily. It reminded Jae of the chains bound to their wrists, linking them to each other the day they smiled and said their first hellos, none of them knowing that there had never been a key. Only Junhyuk had managed to escape, but at what cost? Surely death wasn’t the only solution.
“You know, if it was still open, this would’ve been our 10 year reunion,” Mark said offhandedly as they walked away down the street. It was almost 5am.
Jae chuckled despite himself. “Should we go get some champagne to celebrate? Wait,” he faltered, as a thought hit him, “are you telling me…?”
“Yup,” Mark’s face was completely sombre. “On our 5 year reunion we all lost our jobs and now, on our 10 year reunion, we might lose a whole lot more than that.” He glanced at Jae, and his mouth quirked up into an ironic smile. “Our lives really do suck.”
“Think of Brian right now,” Jae told him seriously. “You left him to babysit Jackson and Bambam on his own.”
Mark’s grin was wolfish. “He deserved it.”
The receptionist didn’t even bat an eyelid when she passed over the key, just gave the two yawning, unshaven men in front of her a cool onceover before informing them that breakfast would be served until 10am and not a minute after. Jae was only half listening, waves of exhaustion crashing down on him as they took the shuddering lift up to their room, Mark leaning against the wall with his eyes half closed. He didn’t even care that the room had a stale, musty smell or that there was only one bed, shoving off his shoes without bothering to untie the laces before pitching straight on to it.
He was dimly aware of Mark thumping down beside him, shoulder crushing his arm. He shifted out from underneath him and thought he heard Mark mutter "Thanks for being around, Jae," before he drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.
tbc