“Are you really leaving?”

The dark skinned man could only shrug in reply. Outside the small house in which they stood, there were sounds of commotions and pounding footsteps.

“What choice have I got, Yongguk?” he replied. He spoke softly as to not disrupt the serenity of the house he knew all too well. Across the main room Yongguk’s wife lay sleeping, soundly, unaware of the fires being set and the innocent blood spilling across the streets.

“We can figure something out,” Yongguk offered. The other man rolled his eyes and began to stalk around the home he had come to know fondly. Little had changed since their childhood days. The furniture was the same, the layout was the same; the only difference was the empty crib and the dolls that sat on every available shelf. He had always admired Yongguk’s art.

“We can talk to Youngjae, Himchan,” Yongguk persisted. Himchan spat at the name, and sent a nasty glare at his old friend.

“Don’t even say that name!” Himchan snapped, his voice suddenly loud. Yongguk glared at him, his eyes nervously flicking in the direction of his sleeping wife. She hadn’t been sleeping well in the nights prior, and he held his breath as she stirred. Taking note of his mistake, Himchan dropped to a softer tone.

“What have I said a thousand times?” Himchan began as he paced the small room. He lingered at certain pieces of furniture, running his fingers along them as the memories of their childhood returned. A thousand times they had ran about the very room playing cops and robbers. Shifting the heavy bag on his shoulder, Himchan couldn’t help but find the accuracy of their roles amusing.

“I know, but—“

Himchan didn’t let him finish. He lunged toward him, like a beast, possessed with a sudden energy. Yongguk had to bite back his laughter and ignore Himchan’s grin as he spun on his heel.

“To a traveler, good-bye are the most beautiful words. Good-byes are never met with such sorry faces like you seem to think they are,” he explained.  Yongguk sighed, knowing there was no way to reason with Kim Himchan. He was stubborn as they came, and wilder than any beast.

Himchan retreated back into his quiet nostalgia, as the sounds of riots grew closer. He knew their time drew shorter with each passing breath. They allowed their eyes to meet, and the two men exchanged smiles. Yongguk pulled Himchan close to him, squeezing him tight and patting his shoulder.

“Be safe,” he encouraged. Himchan mocked a gagging sound. He pulled away from Yongguk to carry out his dramatic actions as he expressed his disgust with the well wishes.

“How cliché! I expected more of you, Bang Yongguk! By God’s good grace, it’s a good thing I’m leaving. I can’t deal with a bastard like you for even a second more,” he spat. He kept an even angry tone, but not even a performer of his quality could bite back the smile. Yongguk shook his head with a sigh, as the sounds crept closer.

Himchan’s face softened as he settled his eyes on the second sleeping frame in the room. It was a young boy, no older than thirteen, who was curled up on the floor. He had been that way for almost an hour, after a day of anxious waiting as the impending verdict had been passed.

“I can’t stay away for long,” Himchan admitted with a sigh. Kneeling bedside the sleeping boy, no older than age thirteen, he trailed his long fingers down his cheek. “Traveling’s not in his blood.”

Yongguk nodded, watching the contrast between the two. Himchan’s dark skin, littered with tattoos that covered his skin like a treasure map, caused the pale skin, untouched and pure, to glow in comparison. He patted his shoulder, and let his eyes wander to his beautiful wife, who slept cradling her stomach. It wouldn’t be long until their child would join them in this world, and he had desperately wanted Himchan to be there to watch his son or daughter grow.

“Take care of him,” Himchan said hesitantly. He withdrew his hand, and the boy tossed in his sleep. Yongguk returned his focus, and gave Himchan a pained look. Himchan refused to look at him, nor at the sleeping child, and did anything to avoid sharing a glance with either or.

“You know Jongup would rather go with you,” Yongguk stated, using a gentle voice. Himchan’s shoulders grew tense, and he offered no response. Yongguk sunk to his level, as their time reduced even more. Turning his head, he looked into the wild eyes he had come to know as well as his own.

“Traveling’s not in his blood. I’ll give you that,” Yongguk said, nodding. “But it’s in his heart.”

The moments he was left with to decide were agonizing for Himchan. But the pounding on the door forced him to do what he did best; think on his feet. Yongguk rose to his feet in a second, rushing to the door, shushing the ruckus that threatened to disrupt the serenity of tiny home.

Himchan shook Jongup awake quickly. The younger boy rubbed his eyes, smiling wearily at Himchan. Himchan’s seriousness roused him quickly, and he hopped up without a moment’s hesitation. He had never been much of a critical thinker, so he didn’t bother questioning the situation as HImchan pulled him toward the back door.

“See you around, Bang Yongguk.  Name a kid or two after me, would you?”

And just like that, he was gone. Without a trace and without a sign of whether or not he lived or died. Kim Himchan took the young boy he had held an affection for and walked right of Yongguk’s life. Left alone, he’d deal with a loss of a wife and child, and become broken, before he’d ever see his friend again as a changed man.