“We are businessmen, so we find people to do the dirty work.”

Repeated so many times, it doesn’t even sound like words anymore. Just a garbled mess of spat out syllables. But Lay keeps chanting it like a mantra, like a puppet.

He walks down the street, chrome searing hot like the blood on his hands. Mr. Oh’s braying laugh is a recurring dream.

But this is a lucid dream.

The hatred is clear bright red and Lay knows what he’s doing. He plans his moves carefully as he stalks to find his prey.

Left, right, left, right.

Inhale, exhale.

Left, in, right, out.

He plops down in front of his target, slamming his gun down on the table.

Mr. Oh eyes it with distaste. “Why do you have this crude thing with you?”

Lay his head, glances at the weapon, fingers it absentmindedly. “Are there more sophisticated ways to kill someone?”

“We say ‘eliminate,’ my dear, not ‘kill’,” Mr. Oh replies with a chortle. “We are-”

“Businessmen,” the boy interrupts the man. “Yes, I know. You’ve said it many times.”

“Good boy.”

But the two syllables sound weird, accented by explosive noises. The man’s face twists, expression distorted, his entire body mangled. “Wha-”

The boy his head. “You’re a businessman. I’m just a boy from the streets. I will personally do the dirty work.”

“Wh-”

“You taught me well.” Bang

“To eliminate the competitors. “ Bang

“To remove the useless ones.” Bang

“To make sure everyone pays.”

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

It was very, very awkward in the library. Just like always, Sehun was oblivious to it. Or, less affected by it in contrast.

Instead of his usual seat, he chose an armchair by the window today. Curled up in his seat, holding a well-worn book, he was the perfect painting of a beautiful and lazy Sunday.

But Lay wasn’t sure if it was Sunday. And if it wasn’t for Sehun, he wouldn’t remember what ‘beautiful’ meant either.

Sehun’s beauty, shrouded in the warm dying light of dusk, was enough to leave him wordless. He wanted to frame the view, map the angle of Sehun’s cheekbone and jawline with his lips until it was committed to memory.  But he was silent for another reason—questions running in his mind like trains careening off a cliff.

Ignorance is bliss.

A statement Lay now understood to be true.

Before, he was so desperate to remember, to know. He devoured any morsel of information, greedily snatching anything tossed at him.

But now he could slowly piece his life back, bit by bit. And with it came the weight of truth and the paralyzing fear of others discovering your dirty secrets.

Did Xiumin, Luhan and Kris remember they became killers because of him? Did they know Lay used them to do his dirty work?

Did Sehun know he was surrounded by murderers? Did he know about the family his father destroyed? Did he know about the man who destroyed his family?

He didn’t want to know anymore, but he could never control himself.

"Petrichor,” Lay spoke up. Sehun glanced up with a questioning gaze.  Those bright, shining eyes.

“Such a romantic word. Such a romanticized concept. But did you know that the scent we smell is really the smell of oil that the plants release? We say it's the smell of rain, though, because it sounds better. That's the difference between fantasy and reality."

“I did not know that.” Sehun’s childlike honesty left a twang in Lay’s heart.

“I had a dream last night and it made me remember so much.”

“Really? That’s awesome!” Sehun’s childlike innocence broke Lay’s heart into pieces. But he had to separate fantasy from reality.

He walked over to the window, staring out instead of looking at the boy he had loved. “Do you remember how your father always used to say we were businessmen and just had to find the right people to do the work?”

There was silence and Lay knew Sehun was scrunching his face up. “Not really. I never paid attention to his lectures.”

“Well, I did.” His reflection in the mirror was one of subdued anger.

He couldn’t control it anymore. One more second-

“That’s why you were so good at-”

“Do you know why your family business went downhill, crashed and burned?” Sehun had no answer, not that Lay expected one. “Because of me! I’d rather die than help the monster who killed my family!”

He spun around, yanking up the gaping boy by the collar. “Your father,” he spat in Sehun’s face. “He was so proud when he talked about how he riled up the workers, promised better things, organized protests, bribed officials and killed my family. He was the reason why I lost my home at seven years old! Why I had to beg on the streets, spat at, kicked at, beaten! And so I carefully planned his own downfall.”

As he threw the boy down, a maniacal laugh escaped from Lay’s mouth. Sehun’s dazed eyes tried to follow it, but the puff of air disappeared into the shadows.

“He taught me everything I needed to know. I gained his trust by helping him so much in the beginning. You were so proud too. It was one of your endearing traits. I think it was also a reason why he thought so positively of me. And that was endearing of you too.” Lay gave a smile, a genuinely shocking thing.  “But then! Business started failing. The clients and suppliers were all going to a new company. A company owned by a certain Kim Minseok.

 “Or, known to you as Xiumin.” A genuine smirk. “Of course, he wasn’t the real boss. I’m sure you can guess who it was. But that’s not the focus now.”

Wandering back to the window, he pressed a palm against the cool glass. Juxtaposed against the distorted horror in Sehun’s reflection, he was frighteningly at peace. It was almost the face of a heartless cold-blooded man.

Almost.

One couldn’t bear to erase all traces of the genuine sweetness from this person.

Staring out at the dreary view, he continued.

“The focus . . . it was just like before. Two tigers in one mountain. Two greedy monsters with only one small village to pillage. But this time, it was the Oh’s who lost. Your father was a weak man. He watched as his business bankrupted and he called me into his library that day.”

His wistful voice wrapped itself around Sehun’s fragile neck and tightened.

“He was already drunk by the time I arrived. He apologized to someone—I don’t know who, maybe your ancestors?— saying he had failed. He was crying! And he reeked of expensive wine. It was disgusting. Repulsive. Then he made me leave and tried to kill himself. I didn’t leave of course. I stayed outside the door and then went in to stop him. And help him.

“To finally take revenge for my family. To let him taste karma.”

His face loomed in Sehun’s vision. Too close.

“Sehun,” Lay cooed. “When my gun went bang, bang, it was the most satisfying feeling in my life.”

The story out, the moment over, Lay finally felt discomfort. He couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t look at Sehun’s glistening cheeks.

It wasn’t shame.

It was just . . . something.

He felt a little sorry for the boy. It wasn’t really Sehun’s fault. It must have been something they did in their past lives, for them to be born into their respective families.

Maybe if they had another life . . .

This was another life. When Lay woke up in this building with his memory wiped clean, it was as if he had been reborn.

Unknowingly, he was attracted to Sehun. Unknowingly, he tried to start afresh.

Unknowingly, the memories came back.

Everything came crashing back and everything fell apart.

The relationship Lay had built. The perception of him in Sehun’s memories.

The boy under Lay finally spoke. “You killed my father.” A whisper, soft like tears plopping onto carpet. “You were the reason . . . and you used me?”

Lay didn’t answer and didn’t look back as he walked away from the ruins of shattered memories. 

so sorry for taking forever! i got a ghostwriting job and writing those articles always leaves me drained.

and it's seriously getting difficult to write this fic.... i have everything planned out but it hurts T_T

the explanations in this are kind of confusing (remember that lay is just ranting and raving) but yeah...

comment and upvote pleasee~~~