Hello! Thanks for subbing (and if you haven't, sub, comment and vote up if you likey?)! Hope you enjoy this chappie, and give me feedback please? Oh, and don't worry, Youngjae appears in the next chappie... I wanted to write more, but I had no time, and I'll just have to postpone the meeting between Youngjae and Daehyun to next chapter! ><

On the 28^th of June, in the year 1993, Daehyun had been set upon the steps of the orphanage, and left behind.

Matron had picked him up, a little bundle of blankets. He’d been barely one day old, hours old at the most, Matron had said one day, looking carelessly over her shoulder at him, tending to another newly abandoned child.

That information had made everything worse. Daehyun was like an unwanted Christmas present: unwrapped, then set aside, rejected and forgotten.

There was an unspoken hierarchy that ranked the kids within the orphanage. The young kids who’d had loving parents that’d died in accidents or ones who’d been brought to the orphanage as infants were at the bottom of the pile. They got all the hate from the rest of the kids, bore the brunt of their jealousy.

These kids were the cute ones, not the problem-children, and almost always were the ones carried out of the orphanage by hopeful couples. At the top of the heap were the older kids—the veterans—who knew their way about the orphanage, and knew all the hiding places Matron used for the treats she saved for when potential parents visited.

The rule of thumb was the angrier and more hateful, the higher up the kid was in the hierarchy.

Daehyun had been a sickly child, a skinny little shadow compared to the rest in his “social class”. The other kids that’d been brought as infants were bright-eyed little babies that shrieked and gurgled cheerfully (“You only screeched,” Matron informed him) and potential parents always passed their eyes over Daehyun.

Daehyun had never really been seen as a candidate for adoption and so the older kids didn’t feel jealous, and he was generally left alone, save for the occasional kick in the shin or jab to the ribs on a particularly bad day.

When Daehyun had reached 13 years of age, he’d started filling out a little, arms becoming more wiry,  body growing stronger. His hatred for the indifferent world had also become more apparent. It had been the same year that Daehyun hurt the first kid on purpose.

Her name had been Hye Joo, a little girl with doe eyes, and shiny hair pulled up into a neat ponytail. She’d always make sure her clothes weren’t rumpled, and saw to it that her shoes shone. She’d been a little goody-two-shoes too, always running errands and doing housework for Matron.

It had been a sleepy Saturday afternoon, and Hye Joo had done the washing up for Matron once again. She’d been rewarded with a cookie—a rare gift from Matron—for doing the job, and had settled down in a corner to eat it. Daehyun had seen the flushed, excited look on her face as she opened to take a small nibble…

Daehyun had snapped back then, flames charring his very soul. He’d snatched the cookie and shoved Hye Joo  out of the way. The girl had toppled out of her seat at the nasty push, caught her head on the side of the table, and lain on the ground stunned, looking up at Daehyun.

And then she’d burst into tears, clutching the side of her head and running out of the room. And Daehyun had felt content.

Because for once, he was happier than the perfect little Hye Joo.

Daehyun’d turned around, smiling for the first time in ages, and had caught sight of another little boy sitting in the room, staring at him with wide eyes. Daehyun’d ignored him and left, forgetting about the biscuit on the table.

Two days later, Hye Joo left the orphanage smiling in a happy couple’s arms, just as everyone had known she would. She’d said her cheerful goodbyes to everyone (save to Daehyun), who resented her all the more for regaining her happiness.

Daehyun wanted out.

It wasn’t that the orphanage was a horrible place (Daehyun was clothed, and fed, and was lucky enough not to have been bullied really). The place was just so cold, devoid of emotion that it chilled Daehyun’s bones, and starved his soul, and suffocated him slowly.

All Daehyun wanted was to be happy.

So Daehyun’d joined in with the other kids his age, moving up the hierarchy, bullying the younger children, so that at least he could feel content in being happier than the kids he picked on.

“He’s been following you around.” Yoon Nam, someone from his “caste” nodded at the little kid standing in the corner, watching Daehyun. Daehyun turned, the smile dissolving at the grin the little boy flashed at him, scampering off to dribble a soccer ball by himself on the lawn. It was the same kid from before, when he’d taken Hye Joo’s cookie. Daehyun didn’t like how happy he looked.

Daehyun loped after him, and kicked the football away as viciously as he could. The kid looked up at him, shrieked in happiness, and ran after the ball, dribbling it back. Daehyun watched, bewildered. Little kids should cry at having playthings taken away.

Daehyun raised his foot to strike the ball away again, clods of mud rising into the air at the blow. The kid laughed harder and fetched it back once more, gasping for breath in between giggles.

“He thinks you’re playing with him.” Yoon Nam gave a bark of laughter too. The rest of the older boys crowded round to see how the new leader of their just-about gang would deal with this situation. Daehyun knew they were watching.

He wanted to keep his place at the top of the heap. Besides, this was another opportunity to be happier than somebody else! He should jump at the chance. It was time for more drastic actions.

Daehyun lifted his right foot and stopped the ball. The kid stopped running. Daehyun bent down and picked the ball up, tossing it about in his hands, gathering will power and courage to hurt another being. Finally coming to a decision, Daehyun’s arm snapped up, ready to smash the ball into the youngster’s face. This—if anything—would reduce the kid to tears for sure.

And then Daehyun made the mistake of looking down at the boy before he released the ball.

The little boy was looking up at him. The smile was gone, but it wasn’t the expression of fear that’d taken over his features. It was the child’s eyes that’d frozen Daehyun. They were huge, and trusting, and the corners squeezed into crescents in the promise of a smile.

Daehyun’s hand wobbled in the air for a while, and then his wrist snapped down. Nobody moved for a few heartbeats afterwards. Everyone watched as the ball hit the ground harmlessly beside  Daehyun with a loud ‘thwack’ sound. And then a collective exhale as the gang dispersed in search of a better performance—one that would not disappoint.

Daehyun looked down at his hand (it was still quaking a little). Then he slapped it to his face. Daehyun was weary all of a sudden. He turned to escape from the humiliation.

“Hyung!” The little boy walked beside him. Daehyun only growled in response and tried to ignore him. He didn’t feel like oppression the boy anymore. Maybe embarrassment made him weak.

“Go away.” Daehyun swatted the air as if the kid were an annoying fly.

“I’m Jung Yongsoo.” The kid motioned to himself proudly.

“Mmm.” Daehyun walked faster.

“What’s yours?” The kid rushed around too, falling back in step with Daehyun.

Perhaps if he answered, the kid would leave him alone?

“Daehyun.” Daehyun grunted.

But of course, the little boy did the opposite of what Daehyun expected him to do. The kid stuck to him like glue throughout the day, and all the others following that (and sometimes at night too, when nightmares came haunting, but Youngsoo would rather die than have anybody find out, and Daehyun didn’t have anyone else to talk to properly).

At first, Daehyun had been annoyed by his constant presence, but then he learnt to relax and accept the kid. And then Daehyun learnt to see him as a comrade, a brother in a hellhole called life.

It was two days till his sixteenth birthday. Two days till Daehyun could leave the orphanage. And he was determined to bring Yongsoo with him too.

“I’ll find a job. We’ll get a house—a small one—and we’ll live together.” Daehyun smiled at the sky as he lay on his back in the field, panting after a game of soccer with Yongsoo (Yongsoo loved the sport).

“I’d like that.” Youngsoo turned his small head to the side to smile at Daehyun. “We’ll both be happy.”

Happy. Daehyun closed his eyes. He’d always wanted to be happy. Yes. He wouldn’t have to harden his heart anymore to beat down some other person to be the happier one.

That was 4 years ago. Now, Daehyun was seated alone in a darkened room, in a small apartment he’d bought with savings from the menial jobs he’d taken on. It wasn’t a pretty place—the walls were a dirty grey colour (maybe they’d been white once upon a time), and paint peeled off the doors. And Daehyun wasn’t happy.

He’d not given up just yet though. He still had one plan left before he was done. Perhaps revenge would finally earn him happiness. One person at a time, perhaps Daehyun would regain the cheer he felt with Youngsoo.

“For Youngsoo.”  Daehyun looked down at his handiwork, running his fingers over the glass that would later show the countdown before the explosion happened.

Daehyun adjusted his cap even lower over his head, so that it left his eyes in shadow. It wasn’t as if anyone would recognize him. People wouldn’t care to notice someone like him. He shifted the weight of the bag on his shoulder. It was heavy—4 years of hard work. For today. All for today. He was going to be happy.

Daehyun went into the male bathroom first. It was sadistic, but the thought that the people killed in the first blast would have last memories of defecating sort of tickled him. Their last words would probably be along the lines of “Hey, I’m gonna use the loo for a moment.”

Daehyun shrugged. Well serve them right. He’d specifically chosen a mall chock full of designer goods—somewhere so expensive people like him didn’t have a reason to be there. The rich needed to be punished. They were the filth that cost him the chance to be happy. Daehyun took a deep breath, took out the first bomb. It was a crude one—one of the first he’d made. But it would do. The washroom wasn’t a huge space, and the smaller blast would be lethal enough. As he set things up, Daehyun’s mind turned back to the past, the reason for all of this.

Just shy one day of turning sixteen, Daehyun bent over Youngsoo’s broken body, wide eyes blind with tears. He was eventually dragged away by the collar by a paramedic trying to tend to Youngsoo.

A tap on his arm. Daehyun looked over his shoulder. It was Yoon Nam. He didn’t look shocked by the accident, neither did his face show any sympathy for Daehyun. But that was okay—Daehyun hadn’t expected any comfort from the guy.

“Watch that man,” Yoon Nam pointed to the guy who’d caused the accident, a man dressed in an expensive-looking suit—the kind that would have been bought with more money than Daehyun would see in his entire life. The man was obviously someone important.

The man looked around a little, then passed something discreetly to the policeman, who glanced around furtively before pocketing it.

“Money,” Yoon Nam nodded. “He’s just bought his way out of the he’s created.” Yoon Nam glanced at Daehyun, eyes on the man who’d killed.

“You wanna be happy right?” By now, Daehyun’s obsession was no secret. “Kill them. These people have the cash to get what they want. They’ve got to be the happiest people around. Get rid of people happier than you, and you’ll be the happiest man in the world.”

Daehyun blinked his tears away. The idea sounded good. It made sense. 

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