Luhan didn’t notice the forgotten coat until later that morning, after Lay and Xiumin had left for work. He came into his bedroom and saw Kris’s clothes, still dripping wet, and decided that it would be a good idea to get them washed--or at least, out of the room--before they made the whole place smell like mildew. He went into the kitchen and grabbed one of the plastic bags Kris had used to carry the groceries in, and came back to the room and started stuffing the wet clothes inside. But, as he picked up the jacket, it started buzzing loudly. Luhan threw it down with a shout of surprise before he realized that it was Kris’ phone.“How is that thing still working? It should be soaked through,” Luhan mumbled. But a smile soon crept onto his face. “Ah~ Kris~ You shouldn’t leave your coat behind~” he sang, reaching in to the huge coat pocket for the phone. Instead, though, he pulled out a soaked newspaper which almost came apart in his hands. “What’s this?” He muttered, holding the newspaper gently in his hands. He unfolded it slowly, but some of it still ripped apart in his hands. But, enough of it stayed intact for Luhan to see two familiar corpses staring at him. Bile rose in his throat and he dropped to the floor, the paper shaking violently in his hands.Kris knew. He knew.
              Luhan breathed out a bit, trying to calm down. Kris wouldn’t leave him. No. That was impossible. He had promised.
              Of course, even Kris had his limits. And he had been texting Chanyeol earlier today…
Luhan’s eyes widened at the realization. Kris had been texting Chanyeol.
              “No,” he breathed, reaching for the jacket and pulling out the phone. Kris couldn’t do this. He couldn’t. It’d ruin everything.
              Luhan opened Kris’s phone and held his breath as he opened the new message:
              ‘Ah, ok. We’re all skipping class today--Kai wants us to do something--and we all can’t be there till about 8 or 9. Is that ok?’
              Luhan frowned and scrolled through the previous messages, feeling something, a sort of warmth, draining out of him as he realized what Kris planned to do. It was the same feeling he had when he saw Jongin kissing Miyong all those years ago. He gulped and turned towards the dresser, staring at the picture of Kris and himself goofing off in front of the camera.
              “You can’t do this,” he whispered to the photo, panic seizing his throat, “You can’t do this. You can’t. You promised. You ing promised.”
              Luhan found himself clutching the photograph in his hand, tears streaming down his cheeks and anger flowing through his blood, “YOU CAN’T ING DO THIS TO ME, KRIS. YOU PROMISED TO HELP ME.  ING PROMISED,” he shouted, chucking the photo at the wall. “AND NOW YOU’VE RUINED EVERYTHING!”
              The photo shattered on impact and the shards fell to the floor, scattering everywhere. His chest heaved as he breathed, trying to regain his composure. Now was no time to lose his cool. He had to eliminate the possible threat. No matter what happened, he could not let anything--or anyone--get in between him and his revenge against Jongin.
              That bastard, Luhan thought as he began changing into a dark suit. One of the members of the gang in China also happened to be a tailor, and he had made Luhan a set of suit jackets which had straps and pockets on the inside for concealing his knives. He chose one of these jackets, a navy blue one, and slipped it on.
              Within the hour he had formed a plan, and after slipping his knives into his jacket he picked up Kris’s phone and replied to Chanyeol:
              ‘9 is perfect. See ya then.’
             Luhan sent the message and was about to leave the bedroom when he stopped, staring at the shards of broken glass from the photo. The sunlight glinted off of them, and made them look like grounded stars. Luhan walked over and purposefully stepped on the picture, smiling at the resounding ‘crunch’. After a few minutes of thought, he bent over and picked up one of the longest, most jagged shards. The way the sunlight reflected off of it reminded him of his blades. He smiled and slipped it into his pocket before turning around and walking out his bedroom, out of the apartment, and into the day.

              All that was left was to wait.