(29^th May 1995, Monday)

Jaesoon smiled as he held onto the picture of him, Hyuksoon, his umma and appa, skipping back home to show the picture to his umma. He’d spent a whole hour just to draw and colour that picture perfectly, and he really wanted his umma to love it. Within no time at all, Jaesoon had arrived at the lift of his apartment building.

He pressed the button for the lift and waited patiently for the lift to reach the ground floor, rocking back and forth on his heels while admiring his latest piece of work. His teachers and umma had always praised him for having a flair for the arts, and he was really pleased with the drawing that he had just done less than three hours ago.

Umma’s going to love this picture! Jaesoon thought, satisfied with his drawing. He entered the lift that had just arrived at the ground floor and pressed the button to go to his floor. Usually, his umma would send him to school but it was up to him to get home on his own. His umma was busy taking care of Hyuksoon, after all, and his appa simply didn’t care. It wasn’t really dangerous for the young six-year-old, since his kindergarten was only ten minutes away from home.

Less than a minute later, the lift arrived at his floor and Jaesoon got out of the lift, walking towards his unit when he heard shouting. Startled, he quickly went to hide behind one of the neighbour’s large potted plants, peeping through the gaps to look into his home.

“Give me money, or else I’ll kill that worthless brat you call a son!” his appa hollered. Jaesoon began to tremble in fear as he continued to watch. He could roughly make out a figure on the ground, and he could hear the wails of a baby. He had never actually witnessed his parents fight, but he knew that they weren’t like any other parents. Appa’s asking umma for money? But why?

Jaesoon’s ears perked up when he heard his umma’s voice, screaming back at his appa. “But I don’t have money! Leave Jaesoon alone!” his umma demanded. Jaesoon could faintly hear the tremble in her voice, and he was getting worried. What’s going on? Jaesoon didn’t have much time to think, having to pay attention to what his parents were arguing about.

“You know you do, you lousy !” his appa yelled, and Jaesoon heard the sound of skin hitting skin. He flinched as he heard his umma let out a pained shout, and then he saw her walking off somewhere. Jaesoon was about to walk out of behind the potted plant and ask what was going on, still not understanding the situation. You could hardly blame him, though. He was still six.

However, just as Jaesoon was about to emerge from behind the potted plant, he spotted his umma returning with Hyuksoon in her arms. He hid back behind the potted plant, watching her hand something to his appa. “Leave Jaesoon alone, please,” his umma pleaded.

There was silence for a moment, except for Hyuksoon’s constant wails. Then, there was another slap sent across his umma’s cheek and Jaesoon flinched again. “This isn’t even enough for me to get into the casino!” his appa shouted, clearly enraged by how little he had been given.

“It’s all I have!” his umma screamed. Jaesoon’s eyes widened when he heard something shatter and his umma had let out another pained shriek. By now, Hyuksoon’s wails had gotten louder and Jaesoon began to sense that something was wrong. A few seconds later, his appa stormed out of the house, his shirt and face stained with blood. The moment his appa was in the lift, descending to the ground floor, Jaesoon picked his bag and drawing up and dashed into the house.

When Jaesoon saw his umma and brother’s condition, he dropped his stuff on the floor. Both of them were bleeding rather heavily, the blood flowing profusely from their scalps. His umma smiled weakly at Jaesoon and beckoned him over. With wobbly legs, Jaesoon managed to walk over to where his umma and brother were. It was then that he noticed a knife in his umma’s stomach.

“Jaesoon-ah, don’t ever take revenge. You have to live your life well, alright? Remember umma and Hyuksoon, but don’t think about avenging us,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. Jaesoon had to strain to hear her speak, and when he processed her words, he bit on his bottom lip in order not to cry.

“Umma, don’t leave me. I-I’ll call the ambulance,” Jaesoon said in a shaky voice, sniffling every now and then as he crawled over to the phone and pressed the numbers for the ambulance. He almost dialled the wrong number since his hands were trembling so badly.

“Ahjusshi, my umma and brother are bleeding really badly. My address?” Jaesoon asked. He gave the man whatever information he asked for, his voice being surprisingly stable as he spoke. Once he hung up, he tried his best to keep his spirits up. He grabbed his drawing from the entrance and brought it over to his umma, showing her what he had drawn.

“This is you, umma. That’s me over there, and here’s Hyuksoon. That’s appa,” Jaesoon pointed out. He saw his umma nod weakly and bit on his bottom lip again. Before he could say anymore, his umma spoke again. Jaesoon leaned in to hear her properly.

“My son’s good at drawing, isn’t he? Jaesoon-ah, umma’s favourite flower is nasturtium. Remember it, and give it to me often,” she instructed softly. Jaesoon barely had time to respond to her as he felt her head land on his shoulder. He snapped his head around to see his umma’s eyes closed, a small peaceful smile gracing her beautiful face.

“Umma? Umma!”

By the time the paramedics came, it was too late.

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Waiting in the hospital, Jaesoon swung his legs around. His appa was supposed to arrive soon to deal with the paperwork and arrange for a wake. Both his umma and Hyuksoon had been pronounced dead over an hour ago, but Jaesoon found no tears. He didn’t understand why he didn’t feel like crying. He just didn’t.

When his appa finally arrived, he looked rather angry and slightly drunk. The man was still wearing the same bloody clothes, but he had washed the blood off his face. He messily scrawled a signature on the papers that the nurse presented to him, telling the hospital personnel to send the bodies to the van waiting downstairs. As puzzled as Jaesoon was, he didn’t ask any questions.

The hospital personnel did as told, assuming that the van was sent from a funeral parlour since it looked like one. They didn’t know that the van had been borrowed from one of Jaesoon’s appa’s friends. They often used it to dispose of bodies after murdering people.

After the bodies were loaded properly in the van, Jaesoon was roughly shoved into the front seat and the door slammed in his face. His appa got into the driver’s seat and immediately began to drive off to somewhere. Twenty minutes of driving led them to a rather deserted area of the city, near the forest. His appa stopped the van and got off, ordering Jaesoon to stay in the van.

Doing as told, Jaesoon looked out of the window and saw that his appa was digging a huge hole with a shovel. What’s that for? Jaesoon thought in confusion. His queries were answered a half hour later, when his appa carelessly threw the two bodies into the hole and covered it up with soil. Jaesoon looked at their surroundings, trying to take note of where they were currently at. I won’t let umma and Hyuksoon rest in a place like this.

It didn’t take long for his appa to fill the hole up with soil and he threw the shovel in the back of the van, slamming the doors shut before getting back in the driver’s seat. There was no conversation made between the father and son throughout the drive home, as usual. In fact, Jaesoon could count the number of times he’d spoken to his appa on his fingers. His appa had never been there for him. As they left the secluded place, Jaesoon paid attention to all the old, worn out buildings around him. He had to remember the place and get back there. He had to.

When they arrived back at their apartment building, Jaesoon clambered out of the van and closed the door. He half expected his appa to follow him upstairs, but was left disappointed when the man just drove off elsewhere. Jaesoon sighed. What did I expect from appa? He doesn’t care, no matter how many times umma told me otherwise.

Jaesoon trudged up to his home and looked at the mess. He didn’t want to clean up, because that was meaningless. There would only be him and his appa living in the house from then on, so why should he bother? Hearing his stomach growl, Jaesoon sighed and went to rummage the kitchen cabinets for food. For a six-year-old, Jaesoon was surprisingly independent. He puffed his cheeks up when he didn’t manage to find any dry food. Hence, he headed next door to ask for food.

His neighbour opened her door and kindly let Jaesoon in, wondering what the boy was doing alone. For as long as she’d known the family next door, she knew that Jaesoon would almost always be with his umma. “Jaesoon, what are you doing here?” the neighbour, Mrs. Park, asked.

“Ahjumma, I’m hungry.”

Mrs. Park frowned. “Where’s your umma?”

Jaesoon fiddled with his fingers. “She’s dead.”

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(30^th May 1995)

The next day in school, Jaesoon was a changed boy. He used to be really friendly and enjoyed chatting with all his classmates. But that day, Jaesoon didn’t open his mouth once. After hearing that his umma had passed, Mrs. Park let Jaesoon stay at her place. She was a widow with no children, so it wouldn’t have posed as a problem for her to let Jaesoon stay. She knew what his appa was like, and she knew that he gambled and robbed people half the time. In order to let Jaesoon at least eat properly, she offered to let him stay at her place for as long as he wanted.

Sensing that something wasn’t quite right, Jaesoon’s teacher made her way over to him and squatted down beside the young boy, smiling warmly at Jaesoon. “Jaesoon, what’s wrong?” she asked, slightly worried about one of the bubbliest kids around. There had never been a day where Jaesoon didn’t literally bounce into class, waving goodbye to his umma. That was the strange part; his umma didn’t send him to school that morning.

Jaesoon shook his head and hugged his jacket closer to himself. The teacher frowned and forced Jaesoon to look at her in the eye. “Jaesoon, did something happen? Why didn’t your umma send you to school today?” she asked. Jaesoon looked up and glared at his teacher, shocking her quite a bit. Jaesoon had never been hostile to anyone before, ever. He’d inherited the good from his umma and made it a point to be nice to anyone.

“Umma’s dead.”

He heard a soft gasp from his teacher and shook his head. “Don’t say that you’re sorry, noona. I don’t really care,” Jaesoon said nonchalantly. His teacher held onto his hand and led him to the office, explaining the situation to the kindergarten principal. The fatherly man listened attentively to the teacher and looked at Jaesoon once she was done.

“You may leave, Bomi. Jaesoon, what happened yesterday?” the principal asked.

“Ask my appa. May I go home first?” Jaesoon asked rudely, his brows creased in annoyance. The principal blinked at Jaesoon and nodded, gesturing to the office doors. Jaesoon didn’t bother thanking him and went to grab his bag before leaving. That morning, he had asked Mrs. Park for some transport money. She didn’t know where his kindergarten was, so she gave him more than enough for a cab ride to school and back.

After Jaesoon left the school compound, he walked home. He flagged a cab down at his apartment building and told the ahjusshi where to go, based off his impressions of the route previously. Apart from having a flair for the arts, Jaesoon also had a great memory. It took a half hour of winding around random streets and buildings before they made it to the exact spot that Jaesoon’s umma and brother had been buried. Jaesoon asked the ahjusshi for the road name and, once he wrote it down, he told the ahjusshi to drive him back to where they came from.

Upon arriving home, Jaesoon realised that his appa was out again. He took the phonebook from under the coffee table and flipped through it, stopping when he found the numbers of various cemeteries. He took the house phone and dialled the cemetery that was nearest to Seoul.

“Hello? May I ask how much it costs to bring my umma and brother to the cemetery?” Jaesoon asked innocently. He didn’t know how to transport the two bodies to the cemetery, much less find a place in the cemetery for them. Calling the cemetery was the easiest way for him to find out how to handle things.

“You’d have to call a funeral service to handle this,” the person on the line told Jaesoon.

“Thank you,” Jaesoon said, placing the phone back in its cradle and searching for funeral services. He mentally noted down the name of the cemetery, just in case the funeral service needed it. When he found the list of funeral services, he called the first one and waited for the person to pick up.

“Hello? Can you tell me how much I need to bring my umma and brother to the cemetery?” Jaesoon asked. He frowned when the man on the line asked him how old he was, and he huffed indignantly. “I’m turning seven this year.”

“So why would you need to bring your umma and brother to the cemetery, little boy?”

“My appa buried them somewhere, but it wasn’t at a cemetery. I want to find them more easily,” Jaesoon explained, as if it was obvious why a young boy like him was calling up a funeral service. The man was silent for a bit, and Jaesoon heard him speaking to someone else.

“Where’d they been buried?”

Jaesoon recited the address from his notebook and stuffed it back into his bag.

“Alright. Can we meet you at your house and you tell us where they were buried?”

Jaesoon pouted. “But how much does it cost, ahjusshi?”

The man hesitated for a bit before telling Jaesoon how much he would have to pay. He also asked Jaesoon who would be paying, and Jaesoon lied. He told them that his aunt would be paying, so they told them that they would meet him outside his apartment building the next afternoon. Thanking them, Jaesoon hung up and sat on the floor.

Now how should I get money?

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Jaesoon’s appa returned in the early evening, and Jaesoon saw that his wallet was seemingly emptier than it had been previously. A thought occurred to him: how did people get money? Jaesoon noticed that his appa seemed to always have more money in his wallet every week, so he was determined to shadow his appa and find out how exactly his appa got money.

When night came, Jaesoon saw his appa getting ready to leave. Once his appa entered the lift, Jaesoon went to lie to Mrs. Park. He told her that he was staying at his aunt’s place that night and thanked her for her kindness. Without even waiting for her to say anything, Jaesoon ran down the stairs to the first floor. Luckily for him, he lived on the fourth floor.

Jaesoon followed his appa, glad that the man wasn’t driving. He hid behind a bin when he saw his appa smash the doors of a store that was already closed. Despite the alarms, his appa didn’t care. The man only forced the cash registers open with a crowbar and emptied their contents into his backpack. Since it was almost midnight, there was hardly anyone who was willing to call the police. His appa left the store with a bagful of money and Jaesoon stared in surprise.

After he ran home, Jaesoon grabbed his backpack and waited patiently for his appa to get back home. Despite how tired he was, Jaesoon was determined to get the money he needed. By the time his appa arrived home, it was almost 3am. Jaesoon saw his appa drop the crowbar onto the kitchen counter carelessly before stumbling into his room, clearly in a drunken state. This is my chance!

Snatching up the crowbar and putting it into his small bag, Jaesoon set out to find a store that was easy to rob. In short, he needed to find a store that didn’t have metal gates to secure it. Once he found a store similar to the one that his appa broke into, he mirrored his appa’s actions. However, Jaesoon only took the amount that he needed, and a little more, before he hastily left.

When morning came, Jaesoon watched the news report all about his appa’s robbery. Almost right after that, his robbery was reported. The owner of the establishment was puzzled as to why the surveillance camera recorded a little boy breaking in. Apart from that, the police were also confused about why the robber only stole a small amount of what was in the cash registers when he could have taken everything. Everyone deemed the case as a strange one, but seeing as how the robber was a little boy, the owner of the establishment let it go.

For everyone, it was just another unfortunate robbery.

For Junhyung, it was his first robbery, and the start of his life as a criminal.

Omg this fic hit 100 subs! :D I was waiting forever to post this bonus chapter XD

I can't lie and say that I'm crying now because honestly, I'm just brain dead :/ But I'm seriously proud of this fic and thanks for making this fic come so far! :)

I actually have the next chapter done, but I wanna update my other fic at the same time so it'll be up tomorrow :D

Well, this bonus chapter was basically a glimpse of Junhyung's past. More likely than not, bonus chapters will be about Junhyung. I hope you enjoyed this and look forward to the update tomorrow! Annyeong~! ^^