‘Why would you do that?’

Silence.

The air is filled with static, with such tension that can be cut with a knife.

The older man lets out a sigh. He places his palms flat out on the table. When he speaks next, his voice is deeper and rings with a hint of dangerousness.

“Why?” He leans forward, eyes narrowed and darker, threatening, “Why, Yoongi?”

Yoongi merely shrugs though he knows exactly why he hasn’t done his job properly. To be fair, Chang doesn’t have to know about the mannerism of his work ethic so why exactly is he butting his nose into Yoongi’s when all he wants are the good results?

“Damn it, Yoongi. You’ve practically scared the two girls to death,” Chang is a middle-aged man with a balding spot at the back of his head. His hair, a luscious black that glints with hints of silvery grey, is slowly thinning at his temples and gives way to his real age. Right now though, his face is flushed with red, probably with anger directed at the said young man standing before him.

“It’s not my fault,” Yoongi says, “They were there. It couldn’t be helped.”

“That’s the whole point,” Chang bangs his fist on the table and causes the wooden surface to rattle. Yoongi merely blinks, “What part of undercover do you not understand?”

Yoongi lifts his hand to his face, examining the dirt caking the bottom of his fingernails, “They’re not gonna say anything.”

“And how would you know that?”

“Because I told them not to.”

Chang sighed more loudly this time, “I told you threats aren’t supposed to be the solution. We’re trying to lay low here, kid.”

When it’s clear that Yoongi isn’t going to acknowledge his mistake, Chang dismisses him with a warning that if it were to happen then he’ll consider firing the young man. Except that Yoongi knows it’s half-hearted and that Chang doesn’t mean it. After all, Yoongi has been one of his best undercover spies for as long as he can remember, from the moment that Chang had crossed Yoongi’s gaze as he passed him by on the street, a stray without a home and food, practically shrivelling to death against the cold.

Chang hadn’t prepared to sway. He’d been cold and had tipped his hat down to purposefully avoid eye contact with any random passerby. But he’d felt Yoongi’s gaze on him. It didn’t matter that the boy had still been nine years old then. His gaze had been just as piercing, those feline eyes boring straight through Chang as if Yoongi knew exactly what was going on in the older man’s mind, as if he knew of all the secrets Chang hid in the darkest depths of his heart in a chamber that wasn’t to be opened.

And from this day onwards, Yoongi had been part of Chang’s gang.

Chang wasn’t a bad guy, at least not in his everyday life. He was actually a very gentle and sensitive soul, and Yoongi had learnt to understand his language. He spoke in circles and usually beat around the bush whenever compliments were involved. Their bond had grown into a father son relationship, or what seemed to resemble one anyway. Yoongi had been a moody teenager and they had had their fights now and then. It had usually involved a few tossing around of furniture and breakable things around the hideout they called their house, but now at the age of twenty-one, they’d learnt to respect and trust each other.

Though it didn’t stop Chang from lecturing his adopted son from time to time, especially when Yoongi screwed up.

It wasn’t that he screwed up per se. It was just that Yoongi’s ways were, let’s say, more brutal.

A lot more brutal.

“Anyway, you managed to take care of it?’ Chang asks in what seems like resignation.

Yoongi nods.

‘Good,’ Chang makes a gesture with his hand, signalling the younger man that he can leave.

Yoongi doesn’t hesitate to crawl up the stairs of the fire-escape before swinging his body onto the rooftop of Chang’s building. The latter had found this abandoned settlement in an isolated area that had been quite far off from the city and from then on had built his foundation. It’s now where all of his thugs hang out whenever they’re not sent out to kill people.

And yes, that’s exactly what they do. Yoongi makes a grimace at the thought.

The sun has already set but that’s exactly what Yoongi had been waiting for. Lighting up his cigarette, he places it at the corner of his mouth before taking a long drag, the smoke drifting off into the wind as it falls from his lips. He watches the lights that illuminate the city in the distance as his thoughts star drifting off to a life that is far far away from his reality.

He wonders what it’s like, to be a normal young adult. To have a dream and to live without fear that all your sins will come raining down on you or haunt you toll your death.

He wonders if there’s anything out there better for him, anything better than this life on the road.

Taking another drag of his cigarette, his fingers absentmindedly fumble with the stick.

It’s been a long day. He can’t help but let his body crumble underneath the weight of the responsibility he owes to those two girls. Now what? He asks himself with growing annoyance at his rashness. He shouldn’t have been so harsh nor should he have been so aggressive. But they had taken him by surprise and that emotion really doesn’t sit well in Yoongi’s vocabulary.

One of them had seemed to be his age, while the other had looked younger, with a babier face and full cheeks that makes Yoongi think she might be from middle school. There’s no concrete reason as to why they’d been there at that particular moment, except that they just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time.

And no matter how much Yoongi tries to push thoughts of these two witnesses aside, he can’t. The younger girl’s eyes had been wide with fear, unblinking and staring as though she was too scared to breathe, let one say anything.

But it’s the older one’s expression that causes Yoongi to choke slightly when he takes another drag.

He coughs, the memory of her knowing, somewhat pitiful expression hitting hard in the middle of his chest. She’d looked afraid yes, but there had been something else in those dark eyes, something that almost looked like empathy.

And Yoongi can’t take it.

His fingers loosen their hold on the cigarette, watching the nearly finished stub drop to the floor before he squishes the flame out with his foot.

In any case, he tells himself, it’s better that he never sees those two girls ever again. Or else there’ll be big big trouble.

Trouble that can cost them their lives.

————-

‘Lisa, are you sure you’re okay?’

The young girl’s expression resembles that of a scared fawn. When she turns, Danah sees the dilated pupils, the emptiness of her gaze, and a shudder of worry slithers through her.

‘Lisa,’ Danah repeats her name as she gently cradles her sister’s arm, ‘hey. It’s alright—‘

‘He murdered him.’ Lisa blurts out.

Danah bites down on her lower lip, a sigh whistling through her nose. Of course she knows. She’d seen it too. She doesn’t want to be reminded of it.

Brushing back her younger sister’s fairly long and glossy mane, Danah squeezes into Lisa’s bed before wrapping a secure arm around the latter’s shoulder.

‘We can’t get into that,’ She murmurs while pressing her head against Lisa’s. A glance towards the mirror shows her how physically different they are.

Lisa had the chance of inheriting their mother’s glossy, light brown curls that don’t need any ma