Aeri was not fine.

 

First of all, she felt dirty. Not only did she need to take a shower, but her clothes were dirty, tethered and bloody. Her skin felt as if it had been under at least five layers of dirt and no amount of ethanol and ointment would make it go away.

 

But she also felt dirty… because of what had happened the night before. She’d tried to follow Baekbeom’s words, she really did. “It was just a bad dream,” he’d said, with her head in his lap while he gently raked his fingers through her hair over and over again. But as soon as she closed her eyes, she’d feel the ghost of Kris’ hands ing her pants. She couldn’t get his voice out of her head, even though Baek had sang her lullabies until she’d finally managed to fall asleep.

 

The worst thing was, there was something nagging at her that felt even stronger than what had happened. She didn’t care about the fact that her palms were split open from clutching the glass shards too tightly. She didn’t care about the bruise on her shoulder from having hit the glass window too hard, or about the stomach wound splitting open. Baekbeom had made sure to stitch everything up, and she didn’t mind it the least because she wasn’t there while it all happened.

 

No, she was too busy replaying the look on Baekhyun’s face before he’d fled from the infirmary. He’d held her so gently while she’d fallen apart. When she’d calmed down a little bit, he’d murmured something about turning the light on to assess the damage and treat her wounds. And then he’d seen it - the blood and glass all over her, the bruises, the hitched shirt and the ed pants.

 

She’d seen the wheels turning inside of his mind, and as soon as he realized what exactly had almost taken place in the room, his whole demeanor had changed. She wasn’t even sure whether it was due to the fact that she was about to jam two shards of glass larger than her whole hand into Kris’ throat or because he was about to take her against her will.

 

Whatever the reason, his eyes had darkened with understanding and then his face morphed into a disgusted expression. He’d made a sound deep in his throat and immediately wiped his hands on his trousers, as if she’d dirtied him somehow. And then he’d turned and left without a word.

 

She still felt bile in from how it had made her feel. When Baekbeom had arrived a while later, presumably called in by his brother who was above taking care of this whole mess, he had found her with her back leaned against the wall, staring out into the distance through the broken window while her hands were absentmindedly trying to scrub the dirtiness from her body.

 

She was thankful because he didn’t recoil from her the way his brother had. On the contrary, he sat right in front of her line of vision, seemingly uncaring about the glass and the blood on the floor. He’d taken her hands into his own and told her how sorry he was about everything. How he should’ve stayed with her and protected her. How he should’ve seen this coming instead of choosing to trust Kris would follow orders and stay true to his word. She didn’t know how to feel about his promises of protection - the promises of an overgrown boy who was apparently a pacifist. She didn’t know how to feel about anything at all, so she chose numbness instead.

 

He’d cleaned everything up while she just sat there, unresponsive. She didn’t know if she was shocked, angry, scared or disgusted. At the moment, all of those feelings felt foreign, and she couldn’t quite feel any of them - she felt… empty. As if she was floating in the air, not quite realizing that she wasn’t dreaming. Perhaps Baek was right; maybe convincing herself none of it was real would’ve been better.

 

She was jolted out of her trance-like state when Baek had taken her hands in his own once again, rubbing soothing circles on the backs of her hands, careful to avoid the injuries. She wanted to smile at the gesture and tell him that it didn’t matter, because she couldn’t feel the pain anyway.

 

“Is it okay if I treat your wounds now?” he’d whispered. The wind was blowing into the room from the broken window, ruffling his hair, and it carried the smell of maples. It would’ve calmed her, had it not unnecessarily reminded her of the older brother and his disgusted expression. She was dirty, she would never be able to wash it away.

 

When her eyes had brimmed with tears and she’d whimpered against her will, he’d hugged her and it felt similar to Baekhyun’s embrace, just a million times softer. She decided she wouldn’t fall apart again, pushing him away from the hug and nodding at him a moment later.

 

He’d helped her take her shirt and pants off, and she shivered in the cold until he’d taken off his jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders. She went back to being unresponsive, staring through the window while he took the med kit out and treated her numerous injuries. Her stomach and both palms were in stitches now, and he made sure to change ice packs for her shoulder and side often.

 

Then he’d helped her get up from her position on her floor and settled her down in the bed.

 

Before she had a chance to thank him for his care, he’d sat down on the bed and guided her head into his lap. And then he’d stayed with her until the sun rose above the horizon.

 

She fell in and out of consciousness a couple of times, sometimes finding him singing a lullaby, sometimes feeling him braid her hair, sometimes rocking her gently. He was the only thing keeping her sane and keeping her mind from wandering back to that place where she felt dirty and violated. It could’ve been so much worse, she’d thought. What if Baekhyun had arrived just a couple of minutes later?

 

Baekbeom would shush her every time she shuddered and his hands would tighten on her body. His skin smelled like skin care products, although the smell of maples was stronger than the chemicals. He was a man who spent a lot of time outside, too. And unbeknown to him, he was helping her forget about his brother who’d unintentionally hurt her.

 

Before she’d finally lost consciousness and surrendered to sleep as the sun rose over the horizon, she’d felt him plant a kiss on her forehead. “Sleep, beautiful,” he’d whispered gently. “You’re safe now.”

 

When she woke up, he was not there.

 

“Good morning!” Someone said in a high-pitched voice behind her, nearly shouting.

 

Aeri yelped and tucked the covers tighter around her form, painfully aware that she was half- beneath them.

 

She turned to see an obviously Chinese man grinning at her. He was tall and couldn’t have been older than her. His hair was perfectly dyed in blond, long enough to fall into his eyes but too short to be wrapped in a ponytail. He was too thin and reminded her of male fashion models, especially due to the fact that he was carrying a designer bag in one hand.

 

An eyebrow raised, she rasped, “Uhm… good morning. What are you doing here?”

 

The overgrown fashion-model boy seemed elated that she’d asked him that. He raised a finger and said, “Ah-ha!” dramatically, grinning the whole while. Then he opened the designer bag, rummaged through it for a second, quickly found a book and took it out. As he searched for something amongst its pages, Aeri was able to make out the title of the book. English-Chinese dictionary.

 

You have got to be kidding me, she thought. Seriously? Don’t they learn English as part of their training?

 

She managed to sit up before the Chinese boy exclaimed “Ah-ha!” again. She wondered if this was a habit of his.

 

She also wondered how many more times she’d have to hear the exclamation before they got through the greetings part.

 

“I,” he began, pointing at himself as if she was deaf, “Huang Zitao.”

 

She had absolutely no idea what that meant. Was he using the dictionary wrong and reading the Chinese words instead of the English translations?

 

The blank look on her face apparently wasn’t enough to discourage him from continuing, or to make him explain the Chinese words. “You,” he said while pointing at her. “Clouthes.”

 

She wouldn’t have understood the broken English with a thick accent had he not pointed at the table, where fresh clothes and toiletries were located.

 

He bit his lip and then scrolled through the book again. She braced herself for the exclamation again, but he seemed to have found the word he was looking for rather too quickly. She suspected the post-it-note from the book had helped. “Bath-roooooom!” he said in an even higher pitch. “You. I.”

 

“What?” she couldn’t help but say. Why on earth would the two of us go to the bathroom?

 

He obviously had no idea what the word what meant, because he didn’t stop his journey through the dictionary. “Now!” he exclaimed again, and she found herself shaking her head at him.

 

“You must’ve misunderstood,” she began while he approached her with that creepy grin still plastered on his face. He looked proud of himself for being able to find all the words he needed to say whatever it was that he’d meant to communicate with her. “I’m not going to the bathroom with you. Alone,” she tried.

 

He exclaimed “Ah-ha!” again and nodded his head, taking her by the hands and effectively dragging her out of the bed. “Bathroooooom! Hao!”

 

Oh my God, Aeri thought as she could do nothing but clutch the sheets to her body as the man brought her to a stand and moved to grab the clothes and toiletries. He dropped them into her hands unceremoniously and then put the dictionary back into the designer bag. “I!” he said again, as if that was supposed to mean something to her.

 

His clothes were all black, of course, and didn’t tell her anything about his position in the clan. Definitely not the interrogator. Leather pants and a black button-up shirt were common enough, with the exception of the designer bag, which was definitely uncommon. This couldn’t be Luhan, could it? If this was the Han clan leader, it was a wonder that the clan was even able to function, yet alone prosper.

 

But then the man began walking away and Aeri’s mind turned blank again, because he was walking like a fashion model too. His head swayed from side to side while he put one leg in front of the other, and she wondered if she’d been transferred to the asylum or something. What the hell?

 

But when he opened the door of the infirmary and beckoned her forward with another “I!”, which was apparently the only word he knew how to say in English, Aeri started moving eagerly, because he was going to take her out of the room, she would be able to see her surroundings and hopefully find out where they were holding Jongdae.

 

If they were holding Jongdae, that was.

 

Unfortunately, the bathroom was at the end of the hall, so Aeri didn’t find out anything new except that the Han family had very handsome clan leaders, whose pictures were all over the walls. It would’ve looked creepy to her, but as soon as the bathroom door were opened she found herself biting her lip. This was exactly what she needed.

 

The fashion model thankfully didn’t follow her in like he’d previously said, and she was thankful for the fact that there was a lock on the bathroom door. She didn’t want to risk him opening the door to tell her something he’d found in his dictionary or exclaim “Ah-ha!” again. She was spooked enough as it was already.

 

Aeri stayed in the bathroom for a long time. She couldn’t find it in herself to feel bad about it; she felt so dirty that no amount of scrubbing her skin could help her feel better about her body. She was careful not to spray any water directly onto the stitched wound on her stomach or on her hands, but it quickly proved to be a bad decision to shower at all because the wounds hurt when the water reached them anyway. She gritted her teeth and kept scrubbing. She washed her hair four times just to make sure the dirt was out of it. She needed this.

 

When she was out of the shower, she couldn’t bring herself to look at her body, afraid of what she’d see. She couldn’t handle thinking about anything but getting dressed and going back to the infirmary room where she’d be able to lay down in the bed and rest. She already felt exhausted and she hadn’t actually done anything but stand under a spray of water, washing herself from Kris and the torture. She told herself the water would take the memories of it away, but it was just wishful thinking - his voice was still with her, whispering promises of more at the back of her mind.

 

She heard a knock on the door while she was trying and failing to fit into the too-small leather pants for the third time. She was groaning while sitting at the toilet, putting the last ounce of energy into making her legs twitch, but the pants were simply too small.

 

Relief flooded over her because it was Baekbeom behind the door. “Everything okay in there, Aeri?” His voice was laced with concern, and she wondered if they’d thought she was trying to drown herself in the shower or escape through the sewers. She had taken a really long time in there, she knew.

 

“Well, you might have chosen the wrong size of clothes,” she panted, trying to fit into the pants for the last time. “I can’t fit into the pants.”

 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Baek responded, his voice muffled but the relief still palpable in his voice. “I’ll bring you a new pair immediately. How many sizes larger?”

 

“Two,” she puffed, finally managing to get her legs out of the too-tight material. Just to be sure that it’ll fit.

 

Two sizes turned out to be the right choice, because she was barely able to fit into the new pants. What material do they make this pants of? she wondered. They didn’t look nearly as uncomfortable on the Han clan members as they felt on her body. Had she gained weight or something?

 

When she unlocked and opened the door, she found Baekbeom waiting with his hands crossed. He looked well-rested, although he’d spent the whole night watching over her. Her chest constricted, a lump forming in due to the kindness this man had shown her. “Thank you,” she whispered, her cheeks heating up at the memory of his hands embracing her, wounding in her hair, the ghost of his lips on her forehead. “You’re too kind.”

 

Baekbeom smiled at her shyly, scratching his neck with his hand. “How are you feeling?” he said while he let her lean on him, leading her back to the infirmary. “The window has been replaced while you were in the bathroom. We could’ve given you another room, but I don’t think you should move around too much for the next couple of days or so. And I-” he stammered. “I, I believe you like the view, and there’s no other room with a whole portal of windows so I thought you…”

 

Aeri nodded as he lowered her down onto the bed. The window was indeed fixed and the mess completely cleaned up, so that now it looked as if nothing had happened in the first place. There was a new chair at the table, with medical supplies scattered all over, an IV stand in the corner of the room and a plate of food. “I think you’ll need to inspect the stab wound,” she said with some difficulty. She felt exhausted but thankfully, the dizziness was getting better. She was at least happy that her sense of balance was returning, albeit slowly. “I know you’re not supposed to get fresh wounds wet but I… I had to clean myself.” She didn’t offer any further explanations, and Baekbeom didn’t ask anything else, which she was thankful for.

 

Having Baekbeom lift her new shirt - which was black, of course - was much easier this time. He didn’t even manage to ask for permission before she was taking his hands in her own while nodding and lifting the shirt. The wound hadn’t opened, thankfully, and he commented how it didn’t look like there would be an infection. Her palms didn’t hurt a lot, and Baek expressed his worry about the new wounds.

 

“You might have severed some nerves in your palms,” he said in a worried voice as he inspected her palms. “You can’t move your fingers and the wounds don’t hurt. I’m not sure if the cuts are too deep or not.”

 

He was indeed right. She could make the fingers on her right arm twitch, at least, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get the fingers of her left hand to move. She couldn’t even begin to think what this could mean. If she couldn’t use the fingers of one hand… Her career would be over. She needed both hands and then some; she was barely able to keep up even when her health was intact. How on earth would she work if she couldn’t fire a gun or hold anything with her left hand?

 

Baek was once again able to sense her thoughts. She looked into his eyes while he rubbed circles into the backs of her hands. “It’ll come back, you’ll see,” he said gently. “You just need to be patient.”

 

After he’d fed her - she felt like a child because now she wasn’t even able to hold a spoon with her hand, although it could’ve been worse, she supposed, because what if she wasn’t able to use the bathroom or shower on her own? - Baekbeom helped her lay down on the bed, her back propped by pillows which certainly weren’t there last night, and then nodded contently after pulling the covers over her.

 

“So I was thinking,” he began uncertainly, biting his lip as he turned his face towards the windows, leaving her with the pleasant profile view of his face. “Uh… It took a while to get my brother to agree to it, but I thought you might like to see the garden.”

 

She wasn’t able to do much but raise an eyebrow, wondering what he meant by garden when he started talking again. “I mean, not that you have to if you don’t want to, you can totally say no, but Baekhyun says it’ll be a while before we can release you and I can’t imagine how cooped up you must feel, spending so much time in an empty room doing nothing while you’re wounded so I somehow got him to say yes and he even said I can give you a tour today if Tao manages to get the wheelchair from Fei-”

 

“Wheelchair?” she echoed in disbelief. Her mind was racing, questions immediately forming: A while before they release me? Give me a tour? Fei? What is this guy talking about? She decided to voice none of them, instead focusing on the most obvious alarming part of his hectic monologue. “What do you mean, wheelchair?”

 

Baekbeom turned his face towards her in a flash, his mouth slightly parted as he shut his eyes tightly and then opened them again. “So you don’t want to see the garden? Proposing to take you there while you’re still too hurt to walk was a mistake? Okay, it was totally a mistake, forget I said anything.”

 

She slowly let herself realize what he was implying. He wanted to take her, an assassin from an enemy mafia clan, to a tour through some garden in a wheelchair because she was too wounded to get to the garden on her own.

 

Her facade crumbled, and she found herself making a noise of disbelief. She took Baekbeom’s hands in her own, feeling like a mother needing to chastise a child for having done something stupid. She couldn’t believe what was about to come out of . This whole freaking situation is ridiculous and absurd. “Baekbeom, this is not how it works.” Her voice was incredibly soft - she didn’t want to hurt him with her words. He deserved so much more than that. “You can’t let me get out of this room. I would find out everything about your compound and then later use it as an advantage against your clan. You can’t put your family in danger like that. And I don’t think you heard your brother well - he would never allow something like that.”

 

Even though she’d known him for a day, Aeri knew Baekbeom was not someone who got angry. That’s why she got surprised when his face suddenly contorted into a grimace of annoyance and outrage, once again reminding her of how similar he was to his older brother. “You are not a prisoner here,” he nearly growled, his hands forming fists but not moving out of her own, which were now clutching his wrists. “You can’t leave until the higher-ups give the thumbs up, but that doesn’t mean you have to stay confined in this room forever. I can blindfold you while we move through the compound, I don’t care.” He seemed to have found the strength to look directly into her eyes, and for some reason, it left her breathless. She hoped he didn’t notice that her hands were shaking. “But you’re a person, and if you ask me, you need to be treated like a guest. That’s what I told Baekhyun, and he said okay. So are you okay with it?”

 

She could do nothing but nod along, gulping as she realized that neither of the Baek brothers were people to mess with.

 

A while later, Jong Aeri was once again rethinking her position in the world and feeling that familiar pang of nostalgia for having neglected her own dreams for far too many years, having buried herself in her work and the need to be the best trainee when all she’d really wanted to do was lose herself in some faraway forgotten uninhabited patch of land, content to roam through the unknown vastness of space and roll around the grassy meadows forever. All she’d ever really wanted was to be free.

 

The year began with the gentleness of cherry blossoms carried by the warm southern winds. Spring belonged to the grandiose tulips, creating a rainbow of colors that consumed the entire world for a short while. Summer carried the smell of hydrangeas, and those with good hearing could make out their soft singing if they leaned in to listen. In autumn, the twilight sky mirrored the color of roses, waving the hummingbirds goodbye. And during the winter, the whiteness of snow reminded her of daisies, waiting below the surface for the first ray of sunshine.

 

Assassins did not get to see flowers often. Nor did spies or thieves. As a combination of all three, she had gotten used to broken vases and flower bouquets clutched tightly by the hands of people who were at the wrong side of the pointless war in which she was a meaningless soldier being her only connection to the beautiful world of gardening.

 

She had told herself a long time ago that she would never live the life where she would get to indulge herself in things liked by all women. She had replaced skirts with leather pants, brushes and makeup sets with knives and guns, and colored everything in black because that was what was expected of her, and there was no place for arguing. She was just another soldier, another number on the Oh clan list, another person who would play their role and proceed to fade into oblivion when the clan had no further use of them.

 

Yet somehow, even with all the hard work and discipline that’d reshaped her into the Oh clan mold throughout all these years, she found herself gasping softly as the blindfold fell from her face and she laid her eyes upon Baekbeom’s garden - because it had to be his, seeing how much care was put into every single detail - for the first time. She struggled to remember why she was hesitant to agree to his proposition, even if sitting in a wheelchair made her feel vulnerable and embarrassed and her cheeks seemed to be permanently tinted with red. A small voice in her head whispered conspiracy at her, and she might’ve indulged her paranoia had the quietness not seemed so real and inviting, the singing of birds putting the maple woods into a peaceful state.

 

She felt like she was intruding on some holy ground, as if taking a deep breath would scare the birds away and make the flowers crumble. She seemed to be drunk on the maple scent, and something inside of her screamed Baekhyun, Baekhyun over and over again as she inevitably wondered where he was and what he was doing, if he was walking through these very woods right now and soaking up in the scent that she’d come to view as distinctly his. She tried to not let the image of his face contorting in disgust form in her head, but it did anyway.

 

After a moment, it was gone, replaced by the boy whose face was nothing but soft smile wrinkles and sun-kissed skin, his eyes closed as he hummed, leaning down so that his face was close to hers. “I take it your silence means that the trip was worth it,” he said in a voice that was much too happy to be fake. She wanted to counter him by default and not let him win in this argument but…

 

The garden was... Beautiful didn't even begin to cover it. She had never seen such beauty in her whole life - ever or anywhere before. All around her were flowers of various sizes, colors and species. She stood up on her legs shakily, ignoring the sound of protest from next to her.

 

She was standing in the center of a small path leading through the fields, which were divided in stripes of yellow, red, white and pink. Some stripes of the garden contained millions of flowers of the same species and color, whereas other stripes were vibrant with different colors and sizes of flowers. Beyond the stripes of fields of flowers, the maple woods stood, both protecting and aiding the flowers from the merciless summer heat. The smell of fresh grass, flower fragrance and maple mixed before reaching her nostrils, intoxicating her and making her feel as if she’d left the real world and entered some parallel dimension or something that couldn’t be real.

 

She didn’t know what to say; she couldn’t trust her voice to say anything, so she just nodded, unable to move her eyes away from the stunning sight all around her. It was a magnificent view, infinitely more so than what she could see from the infirmary, and she allowed herself a moment of serenity, putting down her defenses just in order to indulge in this otherworldly place.

 

It didn’t help that the weather was nice, not a trace of impending autumn in the air. She tried to tell herself over and over again that this was a bad place, that she was here against her own will and that they had already tortured her and would kill her as soon as they gained her trust and important intel.

 

Yet she found herself clutching her hands tightly to her chest when Baekbeom led her to the edge of the garden to see beautiful blooming roses framing the outer edges of the garden, their thorns forming a living fence to keep the flowers from predators.

 

Yet she found herself touching the soft petals after leaning down to look at the eccentric, but oddly-beautiful indigo rose flowers. She stole a glance at Baek then, looking at him for a second from under her lashes, and the haunted boy was back again, his face deep in thought as he watched her, with the weight of the whole world resting on his shoulders. He turned his head as soon as their eyes met, and the sunlight caught in his irises, making it look as if his eyes were made of molten gold. She seemed inclined to believe that it was merely showing what his soul looked like - golden and delicate, yet strong enough to withstand the harsh weather of the world.

 

She was surrounded by various kinds of flowers, most of which she couldn’t identify. White, yellow, orange, red, pink, red and purple stared at her - from tall sunflowers to delicate daisies. She did not understand how all of these flowers were blooming all at once - it was certainly not blooming season for flowers like tulips. She also did not understand why some of the flowers looked like hybrid species with unnatural colors such as dark green or with color gradation on single petals. Hybrid species did not belong in the garden of a mafia clan. They belonged with mad scientists. Was Baekbeom one? Well, it certainly wouldn't be surprising, she thought to herself. And there are certainly worse vices than breeding flowers in your backyard.

 

She leaned in to smell a blue rose, captivated by its oddity and the way it stood out among all the other flowers. It looked so out-of-place but also at home here, in this strange garden meant as a sanctuary for strange species. She felt a connection instantly. In a way, Baekbeom and her were the same - both pursuing dreams that did not fit into the mafia world they were cast into. She would’ve felt a pang of jealousy because he was actually able to pursue his dream, but the fact that his clan was actually letting him do this was too strange and out of place. What bargain had Baekhyun needed to make in order to get something like this for his brother? Was he a prisoner of his clan, just like Aeri was herself?

 

“There is a saying that those who breathe in their scent forget everything they once knew,” Baek said softly from behind her. She gasped, startled by his sudden appearance. Her walls were still down, but how wouldn't they be in this place? Goosebumps appeared on her back from the close proximity of Baekbeom and the heat his body radiated with.

 

She immediately leaned away from the rose.

 

He laughed softly. “Don’t be silly,” he said through laughter, crouching next to her. She struggled not to look at him, but through her peripheral vision she saw the ruffled hair and see-through face of a passionate boy. “Blue roses don’t really exist. See?”

 

He started to scratch at the surface of a petal, and she moved her hands to stop him, but in the next moment, the petal turned white. “It’s just blue dye.”

 

And here I thought he was a mad scientist breeding rare species, when he just breeds white flowers and sprays paint onto them. How typical of me to be so naive. She snorted and rolled her eyes.

 

She raised an eyebrow while he pouted his lips and scrunched his nose, seemingly deep in thought. “I know what you’re thinking, that I’m cheap.” He made it sound like a curse word. “All other species in my garden are authentic. But roses are not capable of producing the blue pigment, you know. A blue rose symbolizes something unattainable, something that doesn’t exist, yet it pushes all passionate gardeners to want to have it that much more.” He then shied away, shrugging his shoulders. “And, well, I wanted to have it. Even if it’s… just a cheap copy.”

 

The world stopped for a moment.

 

She couldn’t help herself; she laughed out loud. “Oh my God,” she said through laughter, not believing what she was hearing. “That is so… ridiculous! Why on earth would anyone go to such length to dye a rose in their garden blue? I have never heard of something so over-the-edge!”

 

He smiled, scratching his head. Had she embarrassed him? Again? “Well, it’s beautiful, isn’t it? I don’t think the white roses will mind, though. There’s plenty of them as it is - it’s better to camouflage some of them in order to deceive the enemy.”

 

She laughed again, feeling a comfortable buzz in her stomach. She was in such a good mood today - if she managed to survive the night without being stabbed again, it would be amazing. “But what about their identity-” she started to say and stopped.

 

The sun’s rays were again playing a game, refracting through the maple leaves and creating a web of shadows over Baekbeom’s face.

 

Right in that moment, the wind started to blow, and the web of shadows started tingling. The sunlight shone directly into his unblinking eyes. He did not squint or move away, or blink and turn his gaze towards his flowers.

 

No, instead he returned the odd look she was giving him as she watched the molten gold from before move inside of his eyes, a glint appearing to mirror the sunlight shining directly upon him. He looked otherworldly; innocent yet old at the same time, as if those eyes had seen much more than he accounted for. But it was not the haunted boy that stared back at her. This person… this person was honest, as if he too was unable to keep his walls up while walking through this garden. How much trust had he thrown blindly at her, letting her come here so soon? How vulnerable was he right now, this man who’d shown her nothing but warmth and kindness?

 

Instead of focusing on the molten gold, at the angelic aura radiating off him, or at the intensity of his gaze on hers, she found herself overwhelmed by the small voice ringing inside of her head that had been implanted by her mentor; her sixth sense, he’d called it while barking out orders at her for the millionth time during their Protection against brainwash course. At that moment, she suddenly remembered both that Baekbeom was not the tattooed assassin nor a completely innocent gardener. Those eyes had seen things; those hands had done things.

 

Where is commander Jongdae? The voice buzzed. You need to stop being distracted and find him ASAP! Focus on the mission!!
 

Aeri blinked and in a harsh breath, turning her face from Baekbeom’s abruptly, shivering from the wind. She needed to run away from this place. It was confusing her; this man, who did not fit into any of the textbook categories - and Soo was the only other person with that description - confused her and proved that her axioms were not all unconditionally correct. She did not want any of this - not the tenderness, the lullabies, the garden walks nor the kindness. Having to constantly look over her back from fear of encountering Kris The World’s Biggest Sadist was bad enough.

 

She did not want to find out the solution of this puzzle; all she wanted was to go home and watch Soo make something explode and Jongdae give her another one of his speeches. For all she knew, he wasn't even alive, so who was she trying to fool with these stupid flowers and gardens and mock hospitality?

 

She was going to make this place burn. It was the only way, she knew - that was what her clan wanted anyway, and jobs like these were best done from the inside. She would bide her time, get stronger, find weak spots and then turn the place over before making her dramatic exit. And although the vulnerable little girl who’d smelled the blue rose a minute ago and found herself entranced by molten gold in a haunted boy’s eyes wanted nothing more than to stay in this garden forever, she was going to push Baekbeom’s buttons and use him to her advantage. And when the time to pay them all back came, she’d show mercy and not kill him or his brother. It would be the most she could do for them, regardless of how awful of a person it would make her.

 

Her wounds still hurt, but she knew that before long, she would grow stronger. She was also certain that nothing - except maybe a couple ribs - was broken beyond repair and that the stitches would hold and help her heal - if she didn’t get jumped by Kris again, that was.

 

Where is my commander? she wanted to ask Baekbeom. Is he alive? Can you take me to him?

 

“Where is your brother?” she asked instead. “Isn’t he supposed to be interrogating me, brainwashing me into compliance or something?” She nearly snorted, remembering the awful feelings she’d experienced when he’d recoiled from her. None of it mattered. She was here on a mission, and if some of them didn’t play along, she’d make it work like that, but she would make it work. All she needed was some time to analyze everything, which is what she usually did anyway. The only difference this time would be that the asset she would be trying attain was her freedom instead of some super-important painting.

 

“Oh,” Baek said slowly, in a voice that sounded surprised and even disappointed. “Well, he’s working. And he’s not going to brainwash you. He’s actually a pretty reasonable person, maybe you should give him a chance.”

 

She turned back to him with a raised eyebrow. He was biting his lip and fidgeting with his hands, almost reminding her of Soo. “Look, kid, I hate to break it to you, but we don’t earn our living by selling flowers. Your brother might not act ruthless towards you, but trust me, there’s a lot more to him than what’s on the surface.”

 

Aeri remembered their first encounter, the way he’d acted like a killing machine and barked questions at her. For a moment, she let herself wonder what would’ve happened if she hadn’t managed to strike him with the taser. Would she have ended up at this very compound? Or would he have just gotten rid of her on the spot, not wanting to risk her breaking away or laying her trap for Kris?

 

“He’d…” Baekbeom’s soft voice brought her out of her thoughts. While she was pondering whether her brother was a serial killer or not, he’d brought himself to a kneel in front of the roses and was now tending to the soil, plucking stray grass and smoothing the ground. His fingers were bleeding from getting caught up in the thorns, but he didn’t seem to notice or care. “He’d been through a lot, you know. And he’d done it all to protect me. He thinks I don’t know, but I do - I’ve seen and heard all kinds of rumors through the years.”

 

She decided to take a step forward, gently touching the petals of a nearby rose while he worked. “He pays off the debt for both of you, doesn’t he? Does twice as much work so that you can sit here all day and work in your garden and build a fake protective bubble.” She didn’t mean to sound bitter, but she did. She’d been on Baekhyun’s side of the story for too long without being given a pat on the back, she was sick of having debts and never being able to go back to square one and be free.

 

Baekbeom looked up from the ground and smiled at her. “Not exactly, no. I have my ways of being useful, too.”

 

She wondered what that meant, but Baek apparently decided he’d had enough of slicing up his hands and stood up, dusting his hands off on his pants. The smile didn’t leave his face, and she felt as if she’d been outsmarted somehow by his lack of anger at her obviously awfully misplaced and disrespectful words. “Time’s up,” he said in a small voice. “Let me just grab the wheelchair quickly so that I can bring you back the way we came.”

 

Aeri was not stupid. Yes, she had lost her touch for a second there, but she told herself it was because she’d been in shock over the darkness and the monstrosity of the man who’d been assigned to torture the necessary information out of her. She shouldn’t have let Baekhyun hold her or let him see her crumble down and cry. She shouldn’t have let Baekbeom hold her either or talk with him as if they were friends. She shouldn’t have for a moment felt thankful or as if she should now cling onto them and depend on them.

 

So after putting on the blindfold, she focused on her surroundings. On trying to memorize Baekbeom’s path through the garden, the number of steps he took, the moment the wheelchair hit concrete floor, the sound of the touchpad of the electric keylock booting, the four beeps after he inserted the necessary code. She counted his steps through the compound, memorized the turns and how many beeps the elevator made before it reached the floor where the infirmary was located. The infirmary was on the fourth floor.

 

When she was back in the familiar room, there was a meal waiting on the table. From the doorway, the Chinese fashion model said “Nihao!” and waved at her with a creepy smile on his face. She smiled the most genuine smile she could muster at him and even waved at him.

 

“Making friends?” Baekbeom questioned as he brought the plate with food to the bed. She nodded, not letting the mask waver for a second.

 

She would make this place burn.

 

And if they’d done something to Jongdae…

 

She’d burn it down to the ground, and she wouldn’t care for a second if she was in it when it happened or not.