In his twenty years of life, Jaehyun had only known two things: home where he must stay in at all cost unless he was working, and the bar that he frequented to be a bartender. He didn’t have friends or any living relative that he knew of since the death of his foster father. His death didn’t affect Jaehyun in any way, because they weren’t close to begin with, and they never saw each other more than twice a year - and only when he wasn’t busy with that highly secretive job he never told Jaehyun about. The boy never asked, nor was he curious of it. He simply accepted the living allowance he was arranged to and went to school until he graduated junior college. 

It was necessary, he realised. Hiding was his way to survive. Away from the prying eyes of everyone else’s. As his foster father once told him, he was born different, and because of that, he had to hide himself from the evil clutch of people who wanted to make use of him. To protect the boy, Johnny Seo did not bother to change Jaehyun’s surname, and instead, rented a house by using the bank account of a wealthy criminal that he hacked into. And yet, on the paper, Jaehyun was an orphan cared for by the government. 

He walked down the path he usually took, a routine he remembered so well that his feet took the first steps before his mind could register where he was going to. His life was always a series of habits and endless repetition, and the only reason he persevered was to live. Live well, boy, Johnny always told him. And somehow that sentence had stuck with him since then. Jaehyun pulled down the hat even more, covering his pale, small face and stick skinny figure. He had been underweight for as long as he could remember.

“Hey! Careful there!” Someone shouted, but Jaehyun played deaf by the ear, and soon, he was splashed by the dirty water from the oncoming car (which really wasn’t much because of Japanese’s obsession with cleanliness). Drenched from neck and below, he persisted to go to work. Although he had accumulated (or been given) enough wealth to last several lifetimes, he found this part-time job a small enjoyment on its own. He got to meet a lot of people, seen their obscene, often ridiculous behaviour, and got out of that stuffy apartment room covered in creme-coloured walls and wooden floors. 

The bar he worked in was located in a small alley in Shibuya. In contrast to its lively neighbourhood, this place was much darker, with one single street lamp lighting up the route. He didn’t mind the darkness though. ‘Baron’ was not as popular as some of the modern clubs out there, but it had its own fair share of loyal customers. Especially on weekends like this, Jaehyun had to work his night to morning shift, full-hours before he could return home after cleaning. The pay was mediocre, but the owner would often bring him home-cooked foods, and for him, it was an extension of kindness he didn’t get to experience much. 

“You’re late, Jaehyun,” The owner, Yuta Nakamoto, was a man in his mid-thirty. He was scruffy, buff, an inch shorter than Jaehyun, with a stern, scary face but a soft heart. His eyes narrowed when he saw the sorry state Jaehyun was in, and without saying anything else, he went back to his room on the second floor to find something Jaehyun could actually wear. The boy was about two sizes smaller than he was. After finding something from his massive wardrobe, he jogged down the stairs and threw the shirt to Jaehyun. “Here. I don’t want you serving the customers looking like a cat down the drain. It is very unappetising.” 

“Sorry,” was the only word he muttered in reply, clutching onto the shirt as if his life depended on it. It was summer, and it often rained in June, so the night weather was a little chilly and for one as skinny as Jaehyun who looked like he could be easily blown away by the wind, he was already feeling cold from head to toe, drenched. He clumsily walked to the locker room, where a few of his colleagues were. Some of them were half-blood Chinese, and others Korean-Japanese. There were more foreign workers in ‘Baron’ than the local ones. 

“Look who’s finally here,” One of the guy, Mark Lee, popped up next to Jaehyun with a big, sunshine smile. His Japanese was not fluent as it was layered with the thick American accent where he was originally from. The others were a little more reluctant to approach because of Jaehyun’s reclusive nature. He never tried to interact too much with the workers, unless it was absolutely necessary. Taeil, the other bartender working on earlier shift, came by silently and shyly. His eyes casted downwards. “That… Uh, there’s a customer asking for you just now.”

“Wow!” Mark exclaimed in excitement, a privilege he had being the youngest of the bunch, “Is it a girl?”

“Yeah, a girl, early twenty I think, sitting in the most corner table right now,” Taeil kindly explained. His eyes became a little misty when he pictured the female’s face. “She’s wearing a black crop top and tight leather jeans. Hair medium to dark brown with a bit of red highlights. Hey, speaking of which, there seems to be more people looking for you lately. First, there was that female doctor from NCNP*. Then there’s this guy last week who dressed like a Tokyo Ghoul cosplayer. Do you know why?”

(NCNP - National Center of Neurology and Psychiatry)

Jaehyun shook his head and maintained an airtight expression, but his fingers trembled a little as he changed out of his wet white shirt into the one Yuta gave him before. He barely had any muscles underneath, only skin and bones, and very pale, almost sickly shade of white skin. He didn’t know why there were more and more people looking for him since the death of Johnny Seo, but he couldn’t rest easy. Should he change his workplace? Did he really want to? There were barely any place better than this one, and he hadn’t been here for more than six months. 

“Is she pretty?” Mark asked. He remembered the Doctor who came before, Sana, as a very petite, cute-looking Japanese girl, who, despite her youthful appearance and beauty, was a tad bit too old for him. He could do five years older, not ten, no matter how good looking the person was. And to answer his question, Taeil suddenly blushed fifty shades of scarlet - an obvious reaction that needed no further explanation. “Damn, Jay*! You got all these chicks coming after you! You really gotta share them, man!”

(Jay - Jaehyun’s nickname, a shorter calling for ‘Jae’ from Jaehyun)

“Hm,” He grunted, obviously unhappy for the sudden attention. Without much words to say, he left the locker room in distress. Mark, who was quite used to Jaehyun’s grumpy and unfriendly behaviour, merely shrugged his head, and continued his small talk with the rest of the team, who were all too eager to discuss about the sudden attention on Baron’s most unappealing bartender. 

Jaehyun wasn’t ugly in any way. He was just very, very geeky - with his overly long hair, often messy and unkempt, lazy, bedroom eyes that wandered around in his own little world, and that underweight body that held little appeal to anyone. Perhaps, he was somewhat adorable to nerds - the type that considered guys with glasses to be interesting. But Jaehyun was also anti-social. He was a twenty-years old (in both relationships and the ual aspect), with no history of friendships whatsoever, let alone dating. He didn’t communicate, didn’t talk much, didn’t try to attract attention, and kept to himself all of the time.

The only reason Yuta hired Jaehyun in the first place was because he reminded him of an abandoned puppy during a stormy day. The really pitiful one you couldn’t help but want to take care of. And that was exactly what he did. And besides, Jaehyun was a fast learner who made really mean cocktails. There was never one unhappy customer who left Baron after trying Jaehyun’s drinks. He was not much of a talker, just serving behind the counter with steady hands and calm mind. When there were orders, he accepted and made them per request, then left to do something else like cleaning the glass or such.

And yet, when Jaehyun saw Taeil’s reaction to the girl earlier, he assumed it was going to be another one like Sana. Cute, typical Japanese-looker who modelled for magazines like Seventeen (although her age and job probably kept her away from doing so). But this young lady was so unconventional in her looks that she did not resemble much of a Japanese - or Asian at all. There was nothing innocent about the bare mid-riff that showed the clear outline of her abs, or the red lipstick that screamed dirty things. She was one hell of a looker. And even for someone like Jaehyun who possessed excellent self-control, his heart thumped a little faster as she approached him with a small smirk hanging onto her perfect pouty lips. Uh-oh, she looked like trouble and chaos-in-the-making.

“Hey, Jaehyun,” She greeted casually in English, her eyes peeking at his name tag in a nonchalant manner. He kept his eyes down at the glasses, pretending that they were really interesting, and said nothing in return. It was obvious to him that she didn’t speak a word of Japanese except for maybe ‘hello’ and ‘goodbye’. Jaehyun understood English perfectly well because that was the only way to communicate with his foster father, so he didn't have troubles dealing with some international customers who frequently came to the scene. “One glass of whatever it is that you’d recommend me to.”

She is flirting, right? Jaehyun widened his eyes and inwardly felt astonished. He dared not venture in too deep into his own imagination and instead, busied himself to make a glass of Bloody Mary. Girls loved that because that was one of the only cocktails' names they knew around here, and Jaehyun had mastered it so well he could make it with his lids half-closed. The girl watched his movements closely with such interest that he felt awkward from it. “Here’s your glass, Miss,” He put it on the table, thinking that he had done at least that much of generosity. He didn’t like to speak, but he felt compelled to.

“My name is Sera. It’d do you good to remember it for the long run because I would come here often,” She said with a small smile as she took a sip and hummed in delight when she found that the taste was to her liking. It was things like these that Jaehyun appreciated - not some long gratitude words or bothersome chatters. She coughed, and covered it with another smile - this time to mask her embarrassment after being caught, “For the drinks. You make good drinks.”

Excuses, the corner of Jaehyun’s lips lifted up a little as he went to the back. As someone with low confidence regarding his -appeal, he dared not think too much and simply took it as a straightforward compliment that he did impress her with his bartending skills. He felt unusually shy around this stranger, but kept his face stoic and detached. He suddenly remembered what Johnny told him. His own survival was the most important. Nothing could distract him. And yet, he had entertained two guests - now three - over the last two weeks, all coincidentally happening right after the news of Johnny Seo’s death leaked to the local newspaper. 

One was Sana - who claimed to be his long-lost cousin. But they were only related by adoption, and nothing else. And besides, Johnny hadn’t mentioned anything about his family at all. So Jaehyun dismissed their relations quickly, despite her attempt to explain. She was saying something crazy, too - ah, he really couldn’t remember. It was probably not that important for him. The other one was a man, he couldn’t quite recall his features correctly because the man coiled around the corner after asking Jaehyun a few questions. He had this barcode tattoo on his wrist that was hard to miss, and a pair of heterochromatic eyes. That guy came twice after, supposedly once every three to four days. If Jaehyun counted right, he would show up again tonight. 

“Hey, pretty, can I buy you a drink?” A man walked up to Sera with preying eyes that stared at her body a little too blatantly. She looked calm, apparently used to it, but deep inside, she was restraining herself from choking him. Human was such a visual creature that they would dig into anything and anyone they found pleasing, and although Jaehyun could understand the middle-aged man’s interest, he still didn’t like how ungentlemanly those gazes were. Sera didn’t quite understand what he was talking about, but she got the gist of it. 

“Jaehyun? Please tell this guy that whatever it is he wants, I’m not interested at all,” She said, and Jaehyun, despite being timid, walked up to the front again and politely (as polite as he could be to a customer) talked to the guy, “Sir, this lady asked me to tell you that she is not interested. She can buy her own drink.” He added the last sentence out of convenience and stole a glance at the girl curiously. Sera’s face was ice cold now, without her former alluring smile. It was apparent how much she hated being hit on.     

“Oh, come on! Don’t play so hard to get! You’re alone here, and a foreigner, too. What else would you want if not ? Aren’t you foreigners much more open-minded when it comes to that?” He retorted with curses, still inching closer. Patient, Sera chanted. She couldn’t do anything in front of Jaehyun if she didn’t want to risk her identity being exposed. Jaehyun hated this type of man. Misogynist, judgemental, and racist. He wanted to help out, but he hated putting himself at risk. Still, he knew he would get chastised by Yuta if he let this man harassed Sera. So out of obligation and not so much of kindness, Jaehyun interrupted, “Sir, she said she is not interested.”

Despite the blatant rejection, the man kept pushing forward, and Sera was getting so uncomfortable that she was ready to throw the half-full glass at the man if he dared come any closer than he already was. Jaehyun saw how uncomfortable she was, and wanted to call another colleague to help her out, but it was at this time that the man actually raised his hand to touch Sera, and another hand extended itself to catch that. The only sound Jaehyun heard was the cracking of the bones and nothing else.

Japan was a beautiful country with law-abiding citizens. It was very rare for such occurrences to happen, but there was always some unexpected thing happening after too many drinks taken. Baron might be a bar, but it never encouraged any ual behaviour, especially harassment to happen in its own premise. If Yuta heard about this, he would flip and chase the customer out of the door, never to return again. This kind of sleazy did not deserve a place in his bar. 

The man who had helped her was incidentally the man who had been coming to watch over Jaehyun lately. The one with the barcode tattoo on his wrist. And strangely enough, Sera’s face grew ashen as she saw that tattoo on his sleeveless arms, even more so than when she was faced with the erted man. Her eyes were fixated on the tattoo, and Jaehyun took it as a sign of fear because she might have taken the guy for some kind of unruly street gangster. But he was sorely mistaken. Sera knew that man from the tattoo without having to see his face first. That was a series of number that ended with number ‘3’ - a man who led the inner Knights by her side for years. 

The rest of the bar guests were staring at the man with monstrous strength breaking down the bones on the older man’s wrist one by one, as if he knew exactly where they were located. The bar was quiet, filled with the sound of screaming from one single person, who stared in fear and extreme pain as his right hand became a waste. Sera pretended that she didn’t know him and left immediately after leaving a stack of notes to pay off the drink that she had earlier. Jaehyun grew confused as he took the money into the cashier machine and kept the change for himself. Wasn’t she here for him? If so, that was a really weird way of saying farewell to him.

Sera was huffing, running away from her memories. Pain started gnawing at her as she clutched onto her chest for support. No matter how much she tried, a large part of her life - and the only part that actually mattered - was spent in the compound of the Rebel. They gave her such pain, but they also taught her growth, love, friendships, and life. When she left, there were some people she was reluctant to part with, and Jin was one of them. Suho - where was he when she needed comfort? Something must be wrong with her to admit that, in the deepest part of her heart, she missed him. Even just for a little bit. 

“You pick the wrong woman, Old Man,” Jin said, thrashing the wasted hand away with an expression of unconcealed disgust. “She is not to be touched by the likes of you.”

And after saying those words, he, too, bolted right out of the door. It was raining lightly, and the street was filled with colourful umbrellas. She was nowhere to be found, and Jin felt that after all these years, he was still chasing after her figure, only to lose her in the end. Not a shadow found. Not a memory remained. 

* * *

“She left?”

The book slipped out of Sehun’s grasp instantly. He was reading ‘One Hundred Years of Solitude’ (the original Spanish version by Gabriel Garcia Marques) in peace at the greenhouse. Completely immersed, he ignored Suho’s arrival and continued reading until the latter explained what he was here for. Suho had observed as Sehun’s expression changed from that of a complete lack of interest to one of concern. He straightened his back and stared impassively at Suho to continue. 

“Yes, this morning, I believe,” He sounded very bitter, and understandably so. Sera had left without a word of goodbye. Such a cold-hearted woman. Did it not occur to her that he might care? That he would want to know? But Suho himself, did not know when he became so concerned of her well-being. Perhaps it happened since they struck that deal of friendship. He came to notice her more, grew protective and took care of her better. Anything to make her a happier person than she could ever be. If he couldn’t grant her the freedom she wanted, at least he could keep her from harm.

“Is she alone?”

“Supposedly. The General asked Kris to tail after her for preventive measurement. They still don’t trust her,” and he was not happy about the arrangement at all. Kris did not take a fancy to her immediately, in contrast to many of the Elites, like Kai and Tao. Instead he grew wary because of her previous affiliation with the Rebel. Suho couldn’t blame him, either. He continued speaking with a sad smile on his face, “I don’t know what her mission is, but apparently, it has high-level risk and the Rebel’s direct involvement. And I’m not supposed to tell you all of this. But I have to.” 

Sehun eyed him and couldn’t resist asking, albeit his tone came out colder than it was supposed to be, “Then why are you telling me all of these?” For a calculative man like Suho who would not do anything without profits, this was certainly strange. He stood up and put both hands into his pants’ pockets, towering over Suho by almost a head. “Why do you come to me of anyone you could have asked for? Like Luhan or Chen. Even Chanyeol. They are certainly closer to you than I’ll ever be.”     

“Because you’re the only one who genuinely cares for Sera more than I do,” Suho replied without holding back. Despite the envy and resentment he felt towards Sehun’s feelings, he had to admit that he couldn’t be quite as courageous nor unrestrained for Sera. “And you’re also the only one who would do anything for her, no matter what it takes. I know you like her a lot. Frankly, I do, too. And if I could’ve done this alone, I wouldn’t have gone to you.” He paused for a while, “Don’t you think that there’s something going on lately? We don’t handle minor government assignments anymore - they’re all given to the other recruits. I just have this bad feelings about the mission Sera is taking.” Like maybe, I’m never going to see her again.

“I can’t be like you. I can’t not follow the rules. I can’t go after her even if I want to. And I can’t always take care of her all the time. You, on the other hand, are different. You can do things that I can’t do. You can chase after her no matter where she goes to. You can protect her be it rain or flood. I can never be at peace if I ask someone like Chen or Chanyeol to protect her. But I know you,” It wasn’t trust that they shared. It was a mutual acknowledgement of each other’s ability, and right now, Suho was not strong enough to be wilful with half his power taken away. 

“You know for some reason, I always feel scared when I don’t see her. Like every time she leaves, it will be the last time I will ever get to talk to her. It’s this inexplicable feeling that she is always out of my grasp, of my hands’ reach,” Suho confessed, knowing that only by speaking these words would this ice-block of a man understood. “Now is not a good time for me. And I can’t be where she is. But you can. So I ask you to replace Kris this time to go to Japan and keep her out of harm.” 

“She doesn’t need protection,” Sehun snickered silently. He knew Sera was strong enough to take care of herself, but he shared the same concern that Suho had. “But I will still go. Are you sure you won’t regret missing this opportunity? You must know that no one can guarantee what will happen afterwards.”  

Suho wavered a little - and Sehun could see that from the ripple in his eyes. “You should go, Sehun. Only God knows what will happen after.”

"You know you're only ever losing when it comes to her," Sehun chuckled. His reply incited a smile from Suho's lips. They both stared at each other, eyes soft and mellow in comparison to their usual temperaments. Sehun was right. Suho was only ever soft if Sera was involved. He was willing to give way and lose if it meant that she could live a little better. Sehun might be straightforward and honest about his affection, but Suho prefered a more subtle approach. He folded his hands in front of his chest and laughed fondly,

"I don’t really consider what I’ve done for her as a loss on my part. But you're right. She's the only exception in my life."

A/N: Say hi to another major contender, Jin from BTS.