TOP pov

"Any last words?"

It was more a formality than anything else. It was obvious that no one in the damp, dark room beleived that the broken shadow of what once was a man could actually speak. Seungri glances around him, eyebrow cocked as he shrugs his heavy shoulders. It was probably an act of cowardice, making the kid be the one to do it. But Dara is standing in the back of the room, face grim and hungry for retribution, so Seungri steps forward and none of us moves, relieved that the source of our shame is probably already dead.

So when he lifts his head, face deformed past any point of recognition, cracked and bloody lips moving soundlessly, the stillness in the moist air is tangible.

"I hate it when they look at you. The begging, crying, hatred, that's easy to deal with. Whatever. Best case scenario, they're already passed out or too weak to move. But when they just look at you... Man, that's the worst."

Bruised and bloody skin begins to spasm with the effort of opening grotesquely swollen eyes. Only the left eye manages to win the struggle, yellow and red flooding around a lazy black pupil, flickering like a candle in a room with a draft. The silence is so thick that his increasingly ragged breaths are like claps of thunder. Even the chair is shaking now with the effort of focusing his eye.

"Why's that?"

"Cuz then you see when it happens, and you can't pretend anymore."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

Seungri hesitates, hand clamped around the gun as he stares intensly at the movement of white, flaky lips, desperate to form a word, tasting the same pattern of vowels over and over without being able to spit them out. Doojoon doesn't move from his position on the wall, face contorted with the confusion of a student who doesn't understand the equation on the board. A loud groan escapes the gasping corpse and I watch as thick fingers wrap around the barrel of the gun, pulling it out of Seungri's hands. It's not until the index finger is wraped around the trigger and Seungri has stepped away to join Dara by the wall that I recognize my own hand. Taeyang flinches as something like recognition dawns on the the broken face.

"Victoria."

My hand doesn't shake and the bullet lands perfectly between his eyes.

"That instant when the light fades from their eyes, the moment their soul leaves the body. You can see it all unfold the moment you pull the trigger. I hate it when they look at you as you take their life away because in that moment there is no denying what you really are. Whate we really are."  

For a moment, it seemed like they were both open.

"Murderers."

No POV

Bang Yongguk was not a man of many words. His default expression was one of somber concentration and often included an unlit cigarette cigarette hanging out of the corner of his lips. He was not a tall man nor excessively muscular, his sinewy body reminiscent of a hungry cat with shoulders always hunched slightly forward as if fighting a wind no one else could feel. Cropped black hair usually hidden under a red cap, fabric eaten away at the corners and dull with age, the worn visor pulled low over pensive black eyes. Inky black lines traced up from the tips of his fingers to the curve of his shoulder, completely clouding out the skin of his right arm. All in all an unremarkable specimen of a man, physically unimpressive and mediocer personality leaving an unexceptional first impression at best. Even his own members often overlooked his presence upon his initial entrance into a room. This confused Zelo at first. Honestly, he had been convinced that Zico was the leader when he first joined. It was Zico that he had been taken to and Zico that had explained his duties and elaborated on the kind of life he was compromising to. It was to Zico that the members reported, from him that they had to get permission for anything. Zico with his sharp eyes and amused mouth, shoulders squared in authority. Really, his mistake was completely understandable. For the first month of his new life, Bang Yongukk was a shadow without a name, just a quiet presence drifting in and out of rooms. He spoke in solemn nods and vague smiles, an ephemeral being without substance. It wasn't until a particularly intense game of poker that Baro had inadverdantly shed light on the ghost that is Bang Yonggukk.

      "This kid's a monster. Has the Big Fish played with you yet?"

"Who? Is he like a go fish champion or something? I don't play those kiddy games."

"Wha-? BAHAHA! Kid you're an actual riot. Nah man, Yongguk, Yongguk. Papa Bear, the Big Man. El Jefe, amigo."

", that ain't spanish."

"You shut your dirty mouth, Jiho. It is too spanish, I learned it on my last trip to Mexico. It means chief. Shows how much you know, you uncultured ."

Zelo had started at this, round eyes blinking in confusion between the older boys.

"Chief? Isn't Zico the boss?"

"Zico? Absolultely ing not. Christ, kid, I take that as a personal insult. You think i'd let Douche Bags Incorporated order me around?"

"Well, excuse yourself!"

The pink haired boy furrows his eye brows in confusion and looks around the room as if the real leader will present himself in bright colors and neon signs. Hasn't Zico been the one calling the shots all this time? And what kind of leader manages to stay completely out of sight for a whole ing month? Zelo practically lived in what the members called the "family room" spending all his spare time between jobs challenging anyone around to a card game. There's no way the dude who'se supposedly in charge of this whole operation hadn't passed by even once. Zico doesn't look surprised by the maknae's confusion and answers his searching gaze.

"Oh you'll recognize him when you see him. He 's definatley been around. Tell you what, next time he'll join our little game, yeah?"

Baro looks delighted at the suggestion. "Who knows, Baby Jello," he says with a cryptic smile, "Maybe you'll finally have a challenge."

The very next day when Zelo slinked into the family room, card deck already warm from being held in his hand, there's a new character sitting with his usual ring of challengers. It's not the face that lights the little bulb of recognition in the back of the boy's brain, but the faded red cap, pulled low over thick black eyebrows and casting a shadow that reaches all the way to tickle his chin. Zelo's seen that cap moving in and out of the Casino basement that Yellow calls home but finds that there's nothing particularly impressive about the man underneath it. Thick lips supporting an unlit cigarette and a straight nose, angular eyes threatening to close under heavy eye lids. Being completely honest, Zelo was dissapointed. The leader of the largest drug cartelle in the orient looked like a washed out wannabe. Mostly unconcerned by the new presence Zelo sits on the red velevet couch that is now recognized as his and proceeds to deal. 

The day Zelo first met Bang Yongguk was the day he tasted defeat for the first time. 

Zelo finds himslef thinking about that first macth with his boss as he shuffles his cards absently, long body cramped into a feline ball on his favorite red chair as round eyes concentrate on the hallway that he now knows leads to Yongguk's office. Baro is meticulously pressing down the brand sticker on one of his favorite hats, mouth curved in displeasure at the peeling paper. Zico had dissapeared down the hallway fifteen minutes ago, followed by a built man with twitching hands and a clenched jaw. A stranger who definatley didn't belong here. The family room is tense for reasons unbeknown to the boy, but he'd bet all of the ace's in his deck it has something to do with the stranger. Only Baro seems unconcerned as he continues to fiddle with his hat. The stranger suddenly bursts swiftly into the room, followed by a tense Zico. The elder makes quick eye contact with the Zelo and gives a stiff nod of his head, signaling the boy to see the stranger out. Zelo frowns, wanting to know what's happening, but slips his cards into his pocket and does as he's told. 

Baro watches the youngest go, waiting for the stranger's retreating back to completely disapear through the door to the stairs before standing to follow Jiho back into Yongguk's office. He's greeted by the top of a worn red cap supported by interlaced fingers as his leader looks down at his desk, face invisable under the visor. He's bursting with questions but knows better than to ask anythig before the last member of their party is in the room. Not two minutes later, there's a click behind him signaling that the door has been closed and locked behind Himachan, Yongguk's wife and trusted advisor. 

"So," she begins, her unexpectadly gravelly voice grating in the silence, "What the was Taecyon doing here?"

The red cap moves slowly from side to side. A tattooed hand slips into a drawre and comes out with a lighter. The whit tip of a cigarette peaks out and a slow inhale is the only sound as Yongguk lights his cancer stick, trapping poisonous black smoke in his lungs. Himchan wrinkles her nose but says nothing as Zico and Baro exchange serious glances. 

"That man..."

Yongguk exhales the smoke in his lungs and reaches up to pull his cap off. He looks so much older with that thing off, Himchan almost thinks he looks less handsome without it. 

"Seven is trying to start a war. and I've made the very big mistake of getting involved. I let resentment and vengance cloud my judgement and have put us in a predicament that, at this point, cannot be escape."

His voice is deep and rough, throat rusted from smoking too much, too young. Himchan steps behind her husband, massaging his shoulder soothingly.

"Kill the boy. Make it look like an accident. Get an underling to do it, a new recruit, and then kill them too. That way we can irradicate our connections to Seven and still avoid backlash from Red."

Yongguk is already shaking his head before she's even half way done. Jiho answers from his side of the room, arms crossed and sinister eyes squinted in a scowl. 

"We can't, the boy is technically an unaffiliated. To kill him at such a crucial time, in light of recent events. It's just too suspicious. Seven is no idiot, that's the tfourth time this week Taecyon has been here. They already feel us backing out and that's dangerous enough as it is. The last thing we want is trouble with those people. Besides, Red wouldn't be the only ones to react at that boys death. It'd be a full on cry to arms."

"That's right, you were part of that too, Jiho. The Big House. You know Seven more than the rest of us. What do you think he's trying to do, going after TOP like this now?"

"Honestly, I used to respect Seven. He was a bright leader and a good friend. But ever since Han-Byul was murdered... he's unpredictable. Insane."

"Exactly what I was to get involved like this."

"This wasn't all your doing, Yongguk. Everyone in this room wanted to see Junhyung suffer. It was a decision we all took and wether we regret it or not, the consequences are here now and they're not going anywhere."

Yongguk meets Baro's hard gaze steadily, inked fingers plucking the smoldering stick from his lips and grinding it into ash. He's quite for a moment, hand covering his wife's as he looks back and forth between his suboordinates. It's been hard since Junhyung left. It was a sudden and unexpected betrayel, his absence still poignant in the smell of stale cigarette smoke. 

"Go see if Zelo is back in the Family Room. Send him in here. I have a job for him."