Another three weeks passed.
 
Then, a musky fall became a biting winter.
 
It had taken a long while, but Youngjae had come to live with the fact that Junhong wasn't going to come back, and that Daehyun was stuck in Youngjae's apartment. Of course, Youngjae missed Junhong; they'd lived in an apartment together for several years. It would have been cruel to simply forget about him.

(However, Youngjae found it suspicious how seamlessly Junhong disappeared, not only from Youngjae's life, but from everybody else's as well. Youngjae recalled Daehyun briefly mentioning Junhong had told all his contacts that he was going on a trip. Youngjae gave Daehyun the benefit of the doubt, but everybody who knew Junhong didn't ask Youngjae about him. At all.)
 
It was January when that already fragile line Daehyun and Youngjae had established shattered. When Youngjae opened the door to his apartment, buried nose-deep in his scarf, Daehyun greeted him with a pistol. He had on sunglasses and a scarf that covered half of his face, and Youngjae barely recognized the other. Startled, Youngjae stood in the doorway, not knowing what to do. The entire apartment smelled like food and welcoming warmth otherwise.
 
Sighing with exasperation, Daehyun lowered his arm. He began pacing the room, grumbling incoherent sentences under his breath as he inserted the pistol into his pants behind his back. He stopped abruptly. "Close the goddamn door!"
 
Blinking, Youngjae slowly closed the door. "What's wrong?"
 
"We have to leave," Daehyun announced.
 
That was when Youngjae noticed one of his duffel bags along with Daehyun's knapsack on the floor by the coffee table. "Is that my duffel bag?"
 
Daehyun shouldered the knapsack along with the duffel, his movements quick and efficient. In that moment, Youngjae felt panic and fear flooding his mind, and it was as if he was in the riot last summer again. Daehyun was just exaggerating, right?
 
"Something's come up," Daehyun said, his voice carrying a tone of urgency. Youngjae stood, paralyzed with a stunned expression on his face. "We need to leave. Now."
 
When Youngjae failed to respond, Daehyun grunted, grabbing Youngjae by the arm which snapped Youngjae out of his shock.
 
"Hold on!" Youngjae exclaimed, yanking his arm back as Daehyun laid his hand on the doorknob. "Where are we going? Why do I have to go with you?"
 
"There's no time!" Daehyun replied just as loudly. It wasn't hard to detect the way his voice trembled slightly with desperation. "I promised Junhong I'd protect you, and I'm trying to do that but you're making it really hard, Youngjae!"
 
At the mention of Junhong, Youngjae grit his teeth. While he still couldn't completely trust Daehyun, he did want to see Junhong; the younger was the equivalent of a brother in Youngjae's lonely life.
 
"Alright, fine," Youngjae submitted, sighing.
 
"Good," Daehyun said. His hand was still on the knob, but he wasn't moving.
 
Youngjae was confused; he thought Daehyun wanted to leave as soon as possible. What happened? Was Daehyun simply blowing things out of proportion in his own panic? Suddenly, Daehyun whipped around, and he looked at the transceiver watch on Youngjae's wrist.
 
"You have to leave that watch," Daehyun whispered into Youngjae's ear.
 
Youngjae blinked, leaning away from Daehyun. What did the transceiver watch have to do with any of this? "Why should I?"
 
Daehyun pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just... Do it. I'll explain later. And hurry up."
 
Slowly, almost hesitantly, Youngjae removed the watch and laid it on the side table next to the doorway. His wrist had never felt so bare before. Once Daehyun was satisfied, he handed Youngjae the duffel bag.
 
"You have a car, right?" Daehyun asked. He opened the door, and Youngjae followed him outside.
 
"I usually take the bus if I need to go anywhere farther than walking distance," Youngjae replied as he shouldered the duffel bag. It wasn't too heavy, and Youngjae imagined Daehyun had only packed the bare nessecities.
 
Daehyun considered this for a moment, his eyes taking on a pensive look before shrugging. "It'll do."
 
The pair walked towards the bus stop a couple blocks away from Youngjae's apartment, their footsteps the only noise exchanged between them. Daehyun was quiet, and the sunglasses covering his eyes prevented Youngjae from reading any sort of expression he had. The longer they walked together, the more Youngjae noticed how Daehyun always turned his head from left to right; the movements were infinitesimal, so small that Youngjae wasn't even sure if he was really seeing it, or if he was just imagining things. There was also a certain stiffness to Daehyun's shoulders, and he walked with purposeful strides, each step as calm and identical as the last; Youngjae at first had a hard time matching that rhythm.
 
In almost no time at all, the pair had reached the bus stop. There was a small crowd already gathered, but the bus had just begun to pull up; Daehyun and Youngjae were the last to board, and ended up standing in a packed bus. The riders varied from teenagers to middle aged businesspeople. When Youngjae stole a glance at Daehyun, his eyebrows were knitted together, and his stance was even more stiff than when they were walking.
 
Youngjae held out a tentative hand, brushing Daehyun's arm, who flinched as if he'd been burnt. "You alright?" Youngjae asked softly. He barely heard his own voice over the people chattering and the bus engine, but Daehyun gave a curt nod in reply.
 
"Anything could go wrong with this," Daehyun muttered softly. Youngjae noticed Daehyun's knuckles were white.
 
//
 
The pair got off the bus in a different district nearly an hour later. With no idea where they were, Youngjae had no choice but to follow Daehyun. By this time, the sun had already begun its descent behind the horizon. As they walked down the sidewalk, Youngjae tried—and failed—to find any distinguishing or familiar landmarks. The people paid them no mind as they walked farther and farther down the street.
 
Ten minutes later, Daehyun began unlocking the padlock keeping a motorbike chained to a fence. The bike itself looked to be a model from the Old World—2081 by the looks of it—and Youngjae wondered if the thing still ran as smoothly as it did back then, if it did at all.
 
"Is that yours?" Youngjae asked as Daehyun removed the crude chains and dropped them to the ground.
 
"Of course it is," Daehyun replied, taking out a pair of keys from his pocket. He swung one leg over the side and sat down, signalling to Youngjae to do the same. When Youngjae hesitated, Daehyun sighed, inserting one of the keys into the ignition. The engine let out a deafening roar, the lights lining the body glowing a brilliant blue in the fading light. "Come on, Youngjae, we don't have much time before it gets dark."

Daehyun twisted around to open the back seat compartment and pulled out two helmets, one of which he handed to Youngjae. Blinking, Youngjae stared at the helmet. While the classic Old World rudimentary design looked aesthetically pleasing, Youngjae was wary of it. The enclosed space the helmet would create around his head seemed suffocating, and he found himself cringing.

"What are you waiting for?" Daehyun asked as he slipped into his own helmet.
 
Eventually, Youngjae got on the bike and placed the helmet over his head, praying that the bike wouldn't malfunction as Daehyun steered it down the road. Over the course of the ride, Youngjae gripped what little room behind him was left on the seat in an attempt to avoid touching Daehyun, but when they went over a bump in the road, Youngjae nearly screamed as he let go of the seat and frantically wrapped his arms around Daehyun's waist in a panic. For a brief moment, Daehyun glanced at Youngjae, but the other just buried his face in Daehyun's knapsack, muttering reassurances to himself.