The Sound of Flight - Part VI ; OT5
It took a while, but here's the sixth part. Inspired by A Wild Sheep Chase, by Haruki Murakami.
Title: The Sound of Flight - Part VI
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairing(s): OT5
Disclaimer: The boys do not belong to me. This is also nothing but pure fiction.
All parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Interlude | Part IV
Part V | Part VI | Part VII
The Sound of Flight
Part VI
It is a plain grey building, the kind you would never take a second glance at. All angles and boring colours - you would never suspect it. Except if you look closer, you realise that the building has no windows at all - it's a disconcerting sight, like staring at a face with no eyes.
Yoochun turns into the narrow driveway and stops the car right in front of the entrance, made of frosted glass, tightly shut, and entirely opaque. There is not a person in sight.
Yunho gets out of the car cautiously, and when nothing happens, he motions for the other three to get out.
The moment the last person - Yoochun - slams the car door shut, the frosted glass doors swing open and they appear. The men wearing business suits, their faces void of expression. There are about twenty, maybe twenty five of them.
It is easy to spot the leader. He stands right in front, and he is the only one who is smiling. "How may I help you?" he asks, his voice calm and polite. He sounds like he is standing behind a front desk, ready to answer all sorts of queries.
"We're looking for someone," Yunho says, equally cordial.
The man raises an eyebrow in question. "And who is this someone you're looking for?"
"He's a friend of ours," Yunho says. "Changmin."
"The name doesn't ring any bells," the man says pleasantly. "Are you sure you have the right place?"
"He's lying," Junsu mutters under his breath. "That bastard. Yunho, just let me burn his face off."
"No," Yunho says quickly. "Don't." He turns back to face the man. "I'm sure this is the right place. We'd like to go in."
"I'm sorry," the man says. "Members of the public are not allowed into our facility."
There is a long silence and Yunho clenches and unclenches his fists behind his back. Suddenly, a tree branch flies out of nowhere, and clubs one of the men in the head. He moans, clutching the back of his skull and falling onto the ground.
Next to Yunho, Jaejoong tries to hide a smirk.
The leader turns around, looks at the man on the ground, and turns to Yunho. "I have already told you," he says quietly, the smile disappearing from his face. "The person you are looking for is not here. If you do not take your leave right now, you'll be sorry."
"You're the one who should be sorry," Yunho says, pulling back his fist and punching the fellow in the nose, smiling grimly when he feels the bone breaking easily.
In the next second, he finds himself shocked when the man recovers and hits him back with the same amount of force. These aren't normal people, he thinks, I should have known.
Fire streaks past his left ear, and out of the corner of his eye, Yunho sees one of the men's clothes catching fire. It is a glorious and satisfying sight as the man howls, collapsing onto the ground. Before he can even try to remove his burning clothes, another ball of fire flies straight into his face, and he shrieks in agony.
"Let go!" Yunho hears a shout, and turns around to see Yoochun, struggling against two men as he is pulled into the building. Even as Yunho dodges punches, he can't help but think, if they're going to bring us in, why stop us in the first place? Nothing makes sense any more.
"Yoochun," he shouts, taking a step forward, trying to do something, because fuck this, he's tired of being helpless.
Something sharp embeds itself into the back of his neck. "Jaejoong," he says weakly, trying to warn his friend standing a few metres away.
The last thing he sees before he blacks out is Jaejoong whirling around with his hands held out, freezing the tranquillizer shots aimed towards him in mid-air, a heartbreakingly beautiful look of concentration on his face.
Umbrella, Changmin thinks. What could it possibly mean? Changmin walks around the room, examining various items lying around. The ashtray on the table has the emblem engraved on the bottom. So do the transparent glasses and water jug.
The pack of cigarettes and lighter on the table is also marked by the emblem.
Changmin pours himself a glass of water and drinks, walking around the room slowly.
This room appears to be her sitting room - he observes that there are books lying around, half a cup of abandoned cold coffee and an opened box of cookies. Changmin can't figure out why she would trust him enough to leave him here in such a private space.
The door opens and Changmin nearly drops the glass of water he is holding.
A tall, slender bespectacled man walks in, carrying a stack of books and closing the door with a push from his hips. "Yuki," he says, not having noticed Changmin's presence. "These books - " He looks up and sees Changmin, falling silent instantly.
There is a long awkward moment, when both of them just stare at each other, gaping. The other man reacts first, quickly clearing his throat. "And you are?" he says.
"I'm Changmin," Changmin says, putting down the glass of water and wiping his hands on his pants nervously.
"Shim Changmin?" The man says, peering at Changmin over the towering stacks of books he's cradling.
Changmin nods slowly.
"Ah," the man says in an understanding manner. He sets the stack of books on the table and smiles at Changmin kindly. Changmin lifts his arm and wiggles his fingers in an uncomfortable awkward wave.
"I'm Yuki's husband," the man says.
"How should I address you?" Changmin says politely.
"Mr. Kim will do," the man answers. Mr. Kim looks like he is in his mid-thirties. He is thin, pale-skinned and has a scholarly air around him. Changmin thinks that he would look perfectly at home in a library surrounded by books, peering at pages through his gold-rimmed spectacles.
Considering Changmin has only seen one woman around, he assumes that she is the Yuki Mr. Kim is talking about. He pictures the two of them side by side, husband and wife, and it is an incongruous odd mental image. Still, he's in no position to pass such judgements because he's involved with four other guys and that's an even odder concept.
"I gather that Yuki hasn't gotten around to explaining anything to you," Mr. Kim says, pulling Changmin from his thoughts back into reality.
Changmin shakes his head slowly. "She had something to do, so she left."
"Your friends are here," Mr. Kim says, smiling. "She will be occupied with that, so I doubt you will see her again for the rest of today."
"What is she going to do to them?" Changmin asks, his hands curling into fists against his will.
Mr. Kim's eyes are sharp, and he doesn't miss the tightening of Changmin's fists. "Don't worry," he tells Changmin. "She won't hurt them." He smiles at Changmin reassuringly. "Now, I'll do the explaining, if you don't mind the fact that I am not nearly as eloquent as my wife is."
Changmin shakes his head, only all too eager to get some answers.
Mr. Kim walks around to Changmin and starts the careful process of brewing tea. In half a minute, the faint fragrance of jasmine permeates the air. Mr. Kim sets the tea pot, and two empty cups on the table and gestures for Changmin to sit across him.
Changmin waits impatiently for him to start talking but Mr. Kim takes his time, slowly pouring tea into the two cups. He pushes one towards Changmin, and Changmin figures that he won't talk until Changmin drinks.
Changmin picks up the cup and sips.
"We've been watching the five of you ever since you entered the Academy," Mr. Kim says.
They got him in the end. He stopped the tranquillizer shots, one after another, creating a barrier around himself like he learnt back at the Academy. And then she walked out. The woman with long black hair and a look of bemusement on her face.
She walked through Jaejoong's barrier, entirely unaffected. "Kim Jaejoong," she said, and Jaejoong saw her lips curve into a smile just as she lifted her hand in front of his face and snapped her fingers, switching off his consciousness like flicking off a light.
Jaejoong pushes the food away from him. How could he eat at a time like this, he thinks, pacing around the room he has been locked in. He saw Yoochun being brought away, and then Yunho, whom they dragged off once he was unconscious. He wonders if Junsu is okay.
He is all alone in this room, and there's nothing he can do.
In a sudden irrational fit of anger and frustration, Jaejoong swipes his arm across the table, sweeping the plate of sandwiches onto the ground. He stares furiously at the sandwiches and the broken ceramic plate on the floor for a long time before he exhales, a long sigh. All the anger rushes out of him and he deflates like a popped balloon.
He sits down heavily on the chair, waves his hand towards the floor and then curling his fingers into a loose fist. The mess on the floor returns itself onto the table.
Nothing he can do about the broken plate - Jaejoong doesn't have the power to fix things.
He wishes he did.
"But it's difficult to tell you why we monitored the five of you so closely if I don't start by telling you what the Academy really is," Mr. Kim continues.
"What the Academy really is?" Changmin echoes.
"Of course, to you - the students - it seems that the Academy exists to teach all of you how to manage your gifts," he says. "It's all a lie, a pretence, a mask they put on to cover up uglier intentions." Mr. Kim holds out a pen, and Changmin takes it.
"Look," Mr. Kim says. Changmin looks down - it's a perfectly normal pen - he rotates it until the small umbrella emblem comes into view.
"The umbrella?" Changmin says, unsure if that's what Mr. Kim wants him to see, handing the pen back.
"Right," Mr. Kim slips the pen back into his pocket. "It's our emblem." Before Changmin has time to question, he continues with his explanation. "Our refers to a giant underground conglomerate which is usually referred to as the Network. The Network is controlled by one man - Yuki's adoptive father." Mr. Kim smiles. "Of course, you would have no knowledge of the Network, there's no reason why you would know of its existence, but the Network's power reaches you, nonetheless."
He reaches into his pocket and takes out his wallet. He flicks it open and draws out a name card - flawlessly white - he slides it across the table towards Changmin. Changmin picks it up and turns it around. There are no words on it, only the small umbrella emblem printed in an intense black in the centre, and the other side is blank.
Quizzically, Changmin looks up.
"That name card you're holding," Mr. Kim says. "It identifies me as a representative of the Network, and that gives me control over some of the biggest firms in the country - in publishing, advertising, media, and even political circles. That's how extensive the Network's power is. Now that we've established that fact, it would be easy to understand why there would be some people craving to bring the Network down to its knees and take over it."
"The Academy?" Changmin guesses.
"The bunch of idiots who set up the Academy thought that by grooming gifted youths to do their dirty work for them, they could take over the Network," Mr. Kim lets out a mirthless laugh, the scorn in his voice surprising Changmin. "A foolish idea, of course. Everyone they have sent so far has failed - it's sad. Just think - young boys and girls, barely into their twenties, sent to their deaths on impossible missions."
"What they wanted us to do - " Changmin says quietly. "They didn't mention - "
"They would never have told you the truth - of course they would have disguised their true intentions," Mr. Kim says. "We know what they told you, and we know about the images they put in your head to threaten you into working for them."
Changmin flinches at the memory of the horrifying consequences they threatened him with if he didn't succumb, the images that still haunt him, and is thankful for the distraction when Mr. Kim resumes speaking again.
"The Academy don't pose a threat to us, in all honesty, but Yuki refused to stand aside and just let them keep on trying, throwing the lives of kids your age away like waste. Her father wouldn't let her go against the Academy. He told her that they were a waste of time to even put up a fight against. And then the five of you came along," Mr. Kim shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. "The first five students that the Academy has recruited that actually have a chance of making a dent on the Network's protective armour. The five of you are the most talented, the most gifted students that Academy has ever had, and couple that with the advantage of being able work together seamlessly, Yuki was intrigued."
"She also knew what was going to happen - the Academy was going to train all of you like animals - and they did, why would they let go of their best chance? She monitored the five of you ever since and I suppose she felt some sort of connection with you. Yuki is an incredibly gifted person, as I'm sure you've realised, and she isn't the type of person who could stand to watch your talents go to waste. If the five of you hadn't run away, I'm sure that sooner or later she would have gone done on her knees to beg her father to let her break into the Academy to get you guys out."
"If she wanted so much to help us," Changmin interrupts heatedly. "Then why didn't she help to stop the Academy from coming after us? And why did she have to imprison us here?"
"Like I said, Yuki isn't the type of person who could stand and watch talents go to waste," Mr. Kim arches an eyebrow. "The five of you are very talented and are full of potential. It is her desire to train the five of you properly."
Fury bubbles up Changmin's throat and he struggles to keep his voice even. "That makes her no different from the Academy," Changmin says. He gets to his feet, even though there is nowhere for him to go.
Mr. Kim looks up at him, still as calm and serene as ever. This irritates Changmin further, and he has to use all of his self-control to resist the overwhelming urge to break something. He spins around and is about to walk away - anywhere, as far away as he can, just to get away - when Mr. Kim speaks again.
"Changmin," Mr. Kim says conversationally, and something in his voice stops Changmin in his tracks. "If I told you that only one of your four friends can live, and you have the power to decide which one, who would you pick?"
Changmin never really understood love until he met the four of them.
He remembers overhearing a conversation between Jaejoong and Yunho once. They were holding hands, fingers linked loosely, forming a bridge between their bodies. Changmin stood in the shadows, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the two of them.
The two of them were silent, and then finally, Jaejoong spoke.
"You know," he said. "I would do crazy things for you." He hesitated, and Changmin was afraid to even breathe, in case he was caught eavesdropping. "It scares me, Yunho," Jaejoong said, voice dropping lower. "It scares me, but I think I would kill for you."
Yunho didn't answer and his face was turned away from Changmin, but somehow - maybe it was his gift, or maybe it was just a gut feeling - somehow Changmin knew that Yunho was crying.
At that time he didn't understood why Yunho had cried, but after he fell in love with the four of them, he realised that it was because Yunho felt the same way. What scared Jaejoong, and scared Yunho was the possibility that one day they would be made to choose.
That one day, maybe, one of them will have to be killed to keep another alive, and someone will have to make that choice.
The walls of the room are white and bare. There are no windows, only a door that locks from the outside. There is square table in the middle of the room, two chairs set on opposite sides of the table. There is a bed that comes with a blanket and a pillow. Other than that, the room is as bare as its four walls.
Yoochun sits on one of the chairs, the one facing the door, and waits.
He waits for a long time. The men who brought him in took his watch from him, so he has no idea how much time has passed since they locked him in this room. Sweat trickles down his back even though the room is cool. He brings his fingers to his teeth and chews nervously at his nails.
He thinks of Junsu, Jaejoong and Yunho, wondering if they are still putting up a fight, or have already all been caught and are locked up somewhere else. He thinks of Changmin, and wonders what they have done to him since they took him. He lets his head drop onto the table, and prays as hard as he can for them to get out alive, together.
And then the door clicks open. Yoochun looks up, breathless, and it is a woman who walks in. She is dressed from top to toe in black and she smiles at him as she shuts the door behind her.
"Park Yoochun," she says, and her smile grows wider.
"Who are you?" Yoochun says warily.
She takes the seat across from him. "You don't have to know who I am," she folds her arms on the table and sizes him up with her eyes. "Why did you come here?"
"To save Changmin," Yoochun says, the answer slipping from his lips. To save Changmin. The words come to him with startling ease, as though it is something that he has been born to do.
"Don't worry," she says. "He is safe."
"I want to see him," Yoochun says.
She shakes her head. "Not yet," she folds her arms on the table and regards him for a few seconds before speaking again. "There are questions you need to answer."
Changmin feels like he has been punched and all the air has been knocked out of him.
"Sit down," Mr. Kim says in a quiet voice, and Changmin sinks back down onto the sofa in stony silence.
"I'm never going to make that choice," Changmin says. "If anyone has to die, it must be me."
Mr. Kim shakes his head. "You are not allowed to die - that's not a choice. Imagine this," he says.
"I don't want to imagine anything!" Changmin snaps.
Mr. Kim ignores him. "Imagine this," he repeats. "Jaejoong and Yoochun are standing on a tiny platform suspended over, say, a pit of poisonous snakes. You are holding a gun in your hand, and there's only one bullet. You must shoot one of them, or both of them will fall into the pit. You must shoot one of them, and when that person falls into the pit, the other person will be safe. Who will you shoot?"
"Fuck you," Changmin says, his fingers digging into the seat beneath him, curving into claws.
"Maybe that's a little hard," Mr. Kim muses. "I'll change it - Yunho and Junsu have both been poisoned and are going to die. You only have enough remedy for one person. Who will you give it to?"
"Shut up!" Changmin shouts, grabbing the cup of tea in front of him and hurling it across the room. The porcelain cup hits the wall forcefully and shatters, a sharp painful sound. What follows is the dull echo of promises and hearts breaking in the distance. There is an ache lodged near Changmin's heart.
Mr. Kim exhales, a long drawn-out sigh. "In the end, it's not about who you love, it's about who you love more."
"I love all of them," Changmin says and his voice breaks. "All four of them. Why is that so hard to understand?"
Mr. Kim stands up, and walks over to where the broken porcelain pieces have fallen. "Oh dear," he says, as though he did not hear Changmin. "Yuki won't be happy."
He shakes his head, stares thoughtfully at the mess on the floor, and lifts a hand, slowly curling his fingers into a fist. Changmin watches, spellbound, as the shards on the floor levitate off the ground and come together to form a perfect whole. When Mr. Kim sets the cup back on the table, there is no sign that it had ever been broken.
Things can be so easily reversed.
"No," Yoochun says resolutely. "I refuse to answer that question."
"Don't be difficult," she says, still smiling.
Yoochun resists the urge to spit in her face. He clamps his jaw tightly together and refuses to say a word.
"Maybe my question was a little harsh," she says finally.
Harsh? Yoochun thinks incredulously and wants to laugh. Her request - to pick one person to die, in exchange for someone else's life, and he could not be the one to die. It was a question that had no answer, it was impossible.
"I'll make it easier for you," she says indulgently. "Your freedom for someone else's. You stay in here forever and I let someone go. Who will you pick?"
Yoochun stared at her, his heart hammering in his chest. "What about the other three?"
She shrugged. "They will be trapped in here too." Don't be greedy, she means.
"Are you serious about this?" he asks cautiously.
"Of course I am," she crosses her arms, and Yoochun feels sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. He is in no position to reject an offer like this, it is better than nothing - better than all of them dead.
We have to get Changmin out, at all costs. They had agreed on this, if anyone else was in this position, they would all pick Changmin. Yoochun had agreed to pick Changmin, he had to pick Changmin.
Yoochun lifts his fist to his mouth, bites down the skin stretched over his knuckles until he tastes the coppery tang of blood. The dull throb of pain beneath torn skin reminds him of the choice he has to make.
They had already agreed on this - all of them have a bigger chance of making it out with their gifts compared to Changmin. Yoochun already knows the answer. There is no other choice.
Is there?
Continue to Part VII
Back to Part V
MASTERLIST OF FICS HERE
Title: The Sound of Flight - Part VI
Rating: PG-13
Fandom: Dong Bang Shin Ki
Pairing(s): OT5
Disclaimer: The boys do not belong to me. This is also nothing but pure fiction.
All parts: Part I | Part II | Part III | Interlude | Part IV
Part V | Part VI | Part VII
The Sound of Flight
Part VI
It is a plain grey building, the kind you would never take a second glance at. All angles and boring colours - you would never suspect it. Except if you look closer, you realise that the building has no windows at all - it's a disconcerting sight, like staring at a face with no eyes.
Yoochun turns into the narrow driveway and stops the car right in front of the entrance, made of frosted glass, tightly shut, and entirely opaque. There is not a person in sight.
Yunho gets out of the car cautiously, and when nothing happens, he motions for the other three to get out.
The moment the last person - Yoochun - slams the car door shut, the frosted glass doors swing open and they appear. The men wearing business suits, their faces void of expression. There are about twenty, maybe twenty five of them.
It is easy to spot the leader. He stands right in front, and he is the only one who is smiling. "How may I help you?" he asks, his voice calm and polite. He sounds like he is standing behind a front desk, ready to answer all sorts of queries.
"We're looking for someone," Yunho says, equally cordial.
The man raises an eyebrow in question. "And who is this someone you're looking for?"
"He's a friend of ours," Yunho says. "Changmin."
"The name doesn't ring any bells," the man says pleasantly. "Are you sure you have the right place?"
"He's lying," Junsu mutters under his breath. "That bastard. Yunho, just let me burn his face off."
"No," Yunho says quickly. "Don't." He turns back to face the man. "I'm sure this is the right place. We'd like to go in."
"I'm sorry," the man says. "Members of the public are not allowed into our facility."
There is a long silence and Yunho clenches and unclenches his fists behind his back. Suddenly, a tree branch flies out of nowhere, and clubs one of the men in the head. He moans, clutching the back of his skull and falling onto the ground.
Next to Yunho, Jaejoong tries to hide a smirk.
The leader turns around, looks at the man on the ground, and turns to Yunho. "I have already told you," he says quietly, the smile disappearing from his face. "The person you are looking for is not here. If you do not take your leave right now, you'll be sorry."
"You're the one who should be sorry," Yunho says, pulling back his fist and punching the fellow in the nose, smiling grimly when he feels the bone breaking easily.
In the next second, he finds himself shocked when the man recovers and hits him back with the same amount of force. These aren't normal people, he thinks, I should have known.
Fire streaks past his left ear, and out of the corner of his eye, Yunho sees one of the men's clothes catching fire. It is a glorious and satisfying sight as the man howls, collapsing onto the ground. Before he can even try to remove his burning clothes, another ball of fire flies straight into his face, and he shrieks in agony.
"Let go!" Yunho hears a shout, and turns around to see Yoochun, struggling against two men as he is pulled into the building. Even as Yunho dodges punches, he can't help but think, if they're going to bring us in, why stop us in the first place? Nothing makes sense any more.
"Yoochun," he shouts, taking a step forward, trying to do something, because fuck this, he's tired of being helpless.
Something sharp embeds itself into the back of his neck. "Jaejoong," he says weakly, trying to warn his friend standing a few metres away.
The last thing he sees before he blacks out is Jaejoong whirling around with his hands held out, freezing the tranquillizer shots aimed towards him in mid-air, a heartbreakingly beautiful look of concentration on his face.
Umbrella, Changmin thinks. What could it possibly mean? Changmin walks around the room, examining various items lying around. The ashtray on the table has the emblem engraved on the bottom. So do the transparent glasses and water jug.
The pack of cigarettes and lighter on the table is also marked by the emblem.
Changmin pours himself a glass of water and drinks, walking around the room slowly.
This room appears to be her sitting room - he observes that there are books lying around, half a cup of abandoned cold coffee and an opened box of cookies. Changmin can't figure out why she would trust him enough to leave him here in such a private space.
The door opens and Changmin nearly drops the glass of water he is holding.
A tall, slender bespectacled man walks in, carrying a stack of books and closing the door with a push from his hips. "Yuki," he says, not having noticed Changmin's presence. "These books - " He looks up and sees Changmin, falling silent instantly.
There is a long awkward moment, when both of them just stare at each other, gaping. The other man reacts first, quickly clearing his throat. "And you are?" he says.
"I'm Changmin," Changmin says, putting down the glass of water and wiping his hands on his pants nervously.
"Shim Changmin?" The man says, peering at Changmin over the towering stacks of books he's cradling.
Changmin nods slowly.
"Ah," the man says in an understanding manner. He sets the stack of books on the table and smiles at Changmin kindly. Changmin lifts his arm and wiggles his fingers in an uncomfortable awkward wave.
"I'm Yuki's husband," the man says.
"How should I address you?" Changmin says politely.
"Mr. Kim will do," the man answers. Mr. Kim looks like he is in his mid-thirties. He is thin, pale-skinned and has a scholarly air around him. Changmin thinks that he would look perfectly at home in a library surrounded by books, peering at pages through his gold-rimmed spectacles.
Considering Changmin has only seen one woman around, he assumes that she is the Yuki Mr. Kim is talking about. He pictures the two of them side by side, husband and wife, and it is an incongruous odd mental image. Still, he's in no position to pass such judgements because he's involved with four other guys and that's an even odder concept.
"I gather that Yuki hasn't gotten around to explaining anything to you," Mr. Kim says, pulling Changmin from his thoughts back into reality.
Changmin shakes his head slowly. "She had something to do, so she left."
"Your friends are here," Mr. Kim says, smiling. "She will be occupied with that, so I doubt you will see her again for the rest of today."
"What is she going to do to them?" Changmin asks, his hands curling into fists against his will.
Mr. Kim's eyes are sharp, and he doesn't miss the tightening of Changmin's fists. "Don't worry," he tells Changmin. "She won't hurt them." He smiles at Changmin reassuringly. "Now, I'll do the explaining, if you don't mind the fact that I am not nearly as eloquent as my wife is."
Changmin shakes his head, only all too eager to get some answers.
Mr. Kim walks around to Changmin and starts the careful process of brewing tea. In half a minute, the faint fragrance of jasmine permeates the air. Mr. Kim sets the tea pot, and two empty cups on the table and gestures for Changmin to sit across him.
Changmin waits impatiently for him to start talking but Mr. Kim takes his time, slowly pouring tea into the two cups. He pushes one towards Changmin, and Changmin figures that he won't talk until Changmin drinks.
Changmin picks up the cup and sips.
"We've been watching the five of you ever since you entered the Academy," Mr. Kim says.
They got him in the end. He stopped the tranquillizer shots, one after another, creating a barrier around himself like he learnt back at the Academy. And then she walked out. The woman with long black hair and a look of bemusement on her face.
She walked through Jaejoong's barrier, entirely unaffected. "Kim Jaejoong," she said, and Jaejoong saw her lips curve into a smile just as she lifted her hand in front of his face and snapped her fingers, switching off his consciousness like flicking off a light.
Jaejoong pushes the food away from him. How could he eat at a time like this, he thinks, pacing around the room he has been locked in. He saw Yoochun being brought away, and then Yunho, whom they dragged off once he was unconscious. He wonders if Junsu is okay.
He is all alone in this room, and there's nothing he can do.
In a sudden irrational fit of anger and frustration, Jaejoong swipes his arm across the table, sweeping the plate of sandwiches onto the ground. He stares furiously at the sandwiches and the broken ceramic plate on the floor for a long time before he exhales, a long sigh. All the anger rushes out of him and he deflates like a popped balloon.
He sits down heavily on the chair, waves his hand towards the floor and then curling his fingers into a loose fist. The mess on the floor returns itself onto the table.
Nothing he can do about the broken plate - Jaejoong doesn't have the power to fix things.
He wishes he did.
"But it's difficult to tell you why we monitored the five of you so closely if I don't start by telling you what the Academy really is," Mr. Kim continues.
"What the Academy really is?" Changmin echoes.
"Of course, to you - the students - it seems that the Academy exists to teach all of you how to manage your gifts," he says. "It's all a lie, a pretence, a mask they put on to cover up uglier intentions." Mr. Kim holds out a pen, and Changmin takes it.
"Look," Mr. Kim says. Changmin looks down - it's a perfectly normal pen - he rotates it until the small umbrella emblem comes into view.
"The umbrella?" Changmin says, unsure if that's what Mr. Kim wants him to see, handing the pen back.
"Right," Mr. Kim slips the pen back into his pocket. "It's our emblem." Before Changmin has time to question, he continues with his explanation. "Our refers to a giant underground conglomerate which is usually referred to as the Network. The Network is controlled by one man - Yuki's adoptive father." Mr. Kim smiles. "Of course, you would have no knowledge of the Network, there's no reason why you would know of its existence, but the Network's power reaches you, nonetheless."
He reaches into his pocket and takes out his wallet. He flicks it open and draws out a name card - flawlessly white - he slides it across the table towards Changmin. Changmin picks it up and turns it around. There are no words on it, only the small umbrella emblem printed in an intense black in the centre, and the other side is blank.
Quizzically, Changmin looks up.
"That name card you're holding," Mr. Kim says. "It identifies me as a representative of the Network, and that gives me control over some of the biggest firms in the country - in publishing, advertising, media, and even political circles. That's how extensive the Network's power is. Now that we've established that fact, it would be easy to understand why there would be some people craving to bring the Network down to its knees and take over it."
"The Academy?" Changmin guesses.
"The bunch of idiots who set up the Academy thought that by grooming gifted youths to do their dirty work for them, they could take over the Network," Mr. Kim lets out a mirthless laugh, the scorn in his voice surprising Changmin. "A foolish idea, of course. Everyone they have sent so far has failed - it's sad. Just think - young boys and girls, barely into their twenties, sent to their deaths on impossible missions."
"What they wanted us to do - " Changmin says quietly. "They didn't mention - "
"They would never have told you the truth - of course they would have disguised their true intentions," Mr. Kim says. "We know what they told you, and we know about the images they put in your head to threaten you into working for them."
Changmin flinches at the memory of the horrifying consequences they threatened him with if he didn't succumb, the images that still haunt him, and is thankful for the distraction when Mr. Kim resumes speaking again.
"The Academy don't pose a threat to us, in all honesty, but Yuki refused to stand aside and just let them keep on trying, throwing the lives of kids your age away like waste. Her father wouldn't let her go against the Academy. He told her that they were a waste of time to even put up a fight against. And then the five of you came along," Mr. Kim shakes his head, a fond smile on his face. "The first five students that the Academy has recruited that actually have a chance of making a dent on the Network's protective armour. The five of you are the most talented, the most gifted students that Academy has ever had, and couple that with the advantage of being able work together seamlessly, Yuki was intrigued."
"She also knew what was going to happen - the Academy was going to train all of you like animals - and they did, why would they let go of their best chance? She monitored the five of you ever since and I suppose she felt some sort of connection with you. Yuki is an incredibly gifted person, as I'm sure you've realised, and she isn't the type of person who could stand to watch your talents go to waste. If the five of you hadn't run away, I'm sure that sooner or later she would have gone done on her knees to beg her father to let her break into the Academy to get you guys out."
"If she wanted so much to help us," Changmin interrupts heatedly. "Then why didn't she help to stop the Academy from coming after us? And why did she have to imprison us here?"
"Like I said, Yuki isn't the type of person who could stand and watch talents go to waste," Mr. Kim arches an eyebrow. "The five of you are very talented and are full of potential. It is her desire to train the five of you properly."
Fury bubbles up Changmin's throat and he struggles to keep his voice even. "That makes her no different from the Academy," Changmin says. He gets to his feet, even though there is nowhere for him to go.
Mr. Kim looks up at him, still as calm and serene as ever. This irritates Changmin further, and he has to use all of his self-control to resist the overwhelming urge to break something. He spins around and is about to walk away - anywhere, as far away as he can, just to get away - when Mr. Kim speaks again.
"Changmin," Mr. Kim says conversationally, and something in his voice stops Changmin in his tracks. "If I told you that only one of your four friends can live, and you have the power to decide which one, who would you pick?"
Changmin never really understood love until he met the four of them.
He remembers overhearing a conversation between Jaejoong and Yunho once. They were holding hands, fingers linked loosely, forming a bridge between their bodies. Changmin stood in the shadows, and he couldn't tear his eyes away from the two of them.
The two of them were silent, and then finally, Jaejoong spoke.
"You know," he said. "I would do crazy things for you." He hesitated, and Changmin was afraid to even breathe, in case he was caught eavesdropping. "It scares me, Yunho," Jaejoong said, voice dropping lower. "It scares me, but I think I would kill for you."
Yunho didn't answer and his face was turned away from Changmin, but somehow - maybe it was his gift, or maybe it was just a gut feeling - somehow Changmin knew that Yunho was crying.
At that time he didn't understood why Yunho had cried, but after he fell in love with the four of them, he realised that it was because Yunho felt the same way. What scared Jaejoong, and scared Yunho was the possibility that one day they would be made to choose.
That one day, maybe, one of them will have to be killed to keep another alive, and someone will have to make that choice.
The walls of the room are white and bare. There are no windows, only a door that locks from the outside. There is square table in the middle of the room, two chairs set on opposite sides of the table. There is a bed that comes with a blanket and a pillow. Other than that, the room is as bare as its four walls.
Yoochun sits on one of the chairs, the one facing the door, and waits.
He waits for a long time. The men who brought him in took his watch from him, so he has no idea how much time has passed since they locked him in this room. Sweat trickles down his back even though the room is cool. He brings his fingers to his teeth and chews nervously at his nails.
He thinks of Junsu, Jaejoong and Yunho, wondering if they are still putting up a fight, or have already all been caught and are locked up somewhere else. He thinks of Changmin, and wonders what they have done to him since they took him. He lets his head drop onto the table, and prays as hard as he can for them to get out alive, together.
And then the door clicks open. Yoochun looks up, breathless, and it is a woman who walks in. She is dressed from top to toe in black and she smiles at him as she shuts the door behind her.
"Park Yoochun," she says, and her smile grows wider.
"Who are you?" Yoochun says warily.
She takes the seat across from him. "You don't have to know who I am," she folds her arms on the table and sizes him up with her eyes. "Why did you come here?"
"To save Changmin," Yoochun says, the answer slipping from his lips. To save Changmin. The words come to him with startling ease, as though it is something that he has been born to do.
"Don't worry," she says. "He is safe."
"I want to see him," Yoochun says.
She shakes her head. "Not yet," she folds her arms on the table and regards him for a few seconds before speaking again. "There are questions you need to answer."
Changmin feels like he has been punched and all the air has been knocked out of him.
"Sit down," Mr. Kim says in a quiet voice, and Changmin sinks back down onto the sofa in stony silence.
"I'm never going to make that choice," Changmin says. "If anyone has to die, it must be me."
Mr. Kim shakes his head. "You are not allowed to die - that's not a choice. Imagine this," he says.
"I don't want to imagine anything!" Changmin snaps.
Mr. Kim ignores him. "Imagine this," he repeats. "Jaejoong and Yoochun are standing on a tiny platform suspended over, say, a pit of poisonous snakes. You are holding a gun in your hand, and there's only one bullet. You must shoot one of them, or both of them will fall into the pit. You must shoot one of them, and when that person falls into the pit, the other person will be safe. Who will you shoot?"
"Fuck you," Changmin says, his fingers digging into the seat beneath him, curving into claws.
"Maybe that's a little hard," Mr. Kim muses. "I'll change it - Yunho and Junsu have both been poisoned and are going to die. You only have enough remedy for one person. Who will you give it to?"
"Shut up!" Changmin shouts, grabbing the cup of tea in front of him and hurling it across the room. The porcelain cup hits the wall forcefully and shatters, a sharp painful sound. What follows is the dull echo of promises and hearts breaking in the distance. There is an ache lodged near Changmin's heart.
Mr. Kim exhales, a long drawn-out sigh. "In the end, it's not about who you love, it's about who you love more."
"I love all of them," Changmin says and his voice breaks. "All four of them. Why is that so hard to understand?"
Mr. Kim stands up, and walks over to where the broken porcelain pieces have fallen. "Oh dear," he says, as though he did not hear Changmin. "Yuki won't be happy."
He shakes his head, stares thoughtfully at the mess on the floor, and lifts a hand, slowly curling his fingers into a fist. Changmin watches, spellbound, as the shards on the floor levitate off the ground and come together to form a perfect whole. When Mr. Kim sets the cup back on the table, there is no sign that it had ever been broken.
Things can be so easily reversed.
"No," Yoochun says resolutely. "I refuse to answer that question."
"Don't be difficult," she says, still smiling.
Yoochun resists the urge to spit in her face. He clamps his jaw tightly together and refuses to say a word.
"Maybe my question was a little harsh," she says finally.
Harsh? Yoochun thinks incredulously and wants to laugh. Her request - to pick one person to die, in exchange for someone else's life, and he could not be the one to die. It was a question that had no answer, it was impossible.
"I'll make it easier for you," she says indulgently. "Your freedom for someone else's. You stay in here forever and I let someone go. Who will you pick?"
Yoochun stared at her, his heart hammering in his chest. "What about the other three?"
She shrugged. "They will be trapped in here too." Don't be greedy, she means.
"Are you serious about this?" he asks cautiously.
"Of course I am," she crosses her arms, and Yoochun feels sweat beginning to bead on his forehead. He is in no position to reject an offer like this, it is better than nothing - better than all of them dead.
We have to get Changmin out, at all costs. They had agreed on this, if anyone else was in this position, they would all pick Changmin. Yoochun had agreed to pick Changmin, he had to pick Changmin.
Yoochun lifts his fist to his mouth, bites down the skin stretched over his knuckles until he tastes the coppery tang of blood. The dull throb of pain beneath torn skin reminds him of the choice he has to make.
They had already agreed on this - all of them have a bigger chance of making it out with their gifts compared to Changmin. Yoochun already knows the answer. There is no other choice.
Is there?
Continue to Part VII
Back to Part V
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