Author's Note: HI

"And they say if we only avoid any direct confrontation with the enemy, he will forget his evil ways and learn to love us."

--Ronald Reagan

---

Yongguk stared apprehensively through the window of the taxi as Seoul cityscapes slowly turned into Incheon ports. The nearly hour long ride was nearing it’s end, and he found the closer they became the harder his heart began to pound. It was a ride he was familiar with seeing as it was the same drive he took in his trainee days to go see his family. He remembered how excited his mother would become when he talked about coming home, the shy woman’s voice sounding more youthful over the phone and even more so in person. Even his father would stand outside of their house in order to welcome his youngest son back home.

When the children got older, and Natasha and Yongnam moved out to Seoul on their own, the visits grew fewer and farther between until they only saw each other on Christian holidays and for ancestral rights. Yongguk would have to pay them a visit after finishing what he had set out to do.

Tomorrow BAP was having an event at an elementary school. The students had managed to donate the most gently used clothes and toys out of the other schools in their district and were being rewarded with a visit by the most charitable music group readily available. Because of this and Himchan’s injury, the company decided to give the boy’s a free day to go and do what they pleased in order to get everything together and rearrange their schedules around what the visual could manage physically.

Originally Yongguk had planned to stay at the dorm with his friend in order to make sure he didn’t overexert himself, but Youngjae had instead offered to stay with Himchan to catch the finale of a drama they enjoyed together. Daehyun, Jongup, and Junhong had gone out together to just enjoy being away and Jongup to help the non-native Seoulites become better acquainted with the smaller parts of the city. This left Yongguk with almost no other options but to take his brother’s advice from the previous night and go to meet Junko once again, no matter how much he felt he didn’t want to.

“We’re here.” The taxi driver’s voice pulled him from his musing, and with a shy thank you Yongguk moved to produce his wallet from his pants. Wordlessly the driver waved his hand in dismissal. Yongguk hoped he was not going to give him a free ride because he was an idol.

“Don’t worry about it,” the older man spoke softly, looking back to flash a warm smile. “Your dad is an old drinking buddy of mine who tips way too much. Now, if you want to pay for the ride back, I won’t fight you.”

Yongguk laughed shortly and handed the man a green 10,000 won bill regardless. It wasn’t enough for the normal fare, but would make a fine tip.

“Like father, like son,” the driver could only chuckle as Yongguk closed to cab door.

Taking a deep breath, Yongguk looked over the warehouse in front of him. It was eerily similar to the one where they had filmed in Manilla - he found himself glancing over both shoulders in case a large man with a steel pipe came rushing him from behind. With no such person in sight, he mustered up the courage to approach what he could only guess was the front entrance. There was an older style intercom to the right of the door sporting nothing but a single button and a simple metal speaker cover. Yongguk fought the urge to run away now before pressing the small button.

There was a pause before a familiar voice answered him from the other side of the system.

“May I help you?” There was no doubt it was a woman’s voice, but it sounded raspier than he remembered.

“Junko?” Yongguk asked cautiously. There was another long pause before he heard the door unlock.

Junko stood before him looking just as guarded but offering an attempt at a smile.

“Long time no see.” Her voice was just as raspy as before and her hair was still in a long braid over her shoulder leading Yongguk to believe that he had woken her up. It was earlier in the morning, him having left Seoul by eight, but just waking up now was very uncharacteristic of her. Yongguk shuddered at the thought of him knowing so much about her more intimate habits.

“Would you like to come in? I was just making coffee.” She stepped out of the door’s opening as an invitation that he had to accept, though he stepped just inside of the building so she could close the door. Seeing his trepidation, Junko moved past him and back to the faux kitchenette against the back wall she had passed before. The sound of footsteps following close behind let her know that Yongguk had accepted that he was there and had no choice but to follow.

She motioned towards a set of stairs near where she stood, not turning away from the coffee pot. “You can go up there, there are chairs and a table so we can talk.” His footsteps sounded again, but this time moving up and away. Junko set the finished coffee set on a small tray along with fruit she had in the mini fridge below the beer. Yongguk moved to help her with the tray once she reached the top of the stairs, but she merely shook her head and carried the tray to the coffee table between chairs.

“You and your brother have a habit of showing up at odd hours.” She filled the two mugs she had brought and offered one to him who accepted with a small bow. Yongguk, however, did not reply, something that did not surprise Junko too much.”To what do I owe this surprise visit?”

Yongguk looked down at his reflection in the dark coffee filling half of the mug. He thought for a moment before setting the cup down and looking up at Junko. “I wanted to apologize. About what I said at the hospital.”

“Don’t.” Junko pulled her legs to her chest and rest her mug on top of her knee. Unlike Yongguk, she did not attempt to make eye contact. “I appreciate it, but you don’t have anything to be sorry about. Still, you have a lot of guts to say sorry to someone who does nothing but wrong.”

“But you’re still a woman and a human being, so I shouldn’t have said something like I did.”

She chuckled lowly, looking nowhere in particular. “Thank you for the flattery, but I think that might be an insult to the human race.”

Yongguk scoffed at her pessimism. He didn’t know why it suddenly bothered him so much when in the heat of the hospital moment he had been thinking almost the same thing. But seeing her now in such an unsullied state, he started to think that there existed two different Junko’s. He held his mug in the air between them, finally pulling her attention to him.

“I doubt that someone who would serve me coffee in a Pokemon mug is the scum of society.”

There was some truth in what Yongguk said, even if the proof was the purple grinning face of a Koffing with ‘KOFFEE’ written beneath it. She looked at her own cup, an orange Seaking face with ‘TEAKING’ written along the bottom.

“You know, Team Rocket uses Koffings. They’re a bad Pokemon, poison type too.” Junko heard him sigh aggravatedly across the small space no matter how much he tried to muffle it. “So what you’re saying is that my love for a children’s series means I’m an innocent, loving, law-abiding citizen of the fine nation of Korea?”

Yongguk didn’t respond, just sipped his coffee to make up for the awkward silence.

She took it as a cue to continue. “But I can see where you’re coming from. And I really appreciate you coming over to speak to me. I’m sorry I couldn’t live up to the amicable front I put up, and that that front isn’t the same as who I really am. I shouldn’t have tricked you, or given you all this stress you didn’t need. I should have stayed out of your life.” Junko’s foot slipped on the pleather seat, stalling the flow of her unintentional verbal diarrhea. “But I guess that’s just what I do. Lie to make a living.”

“At least you’re not cutting me up and feeding me to pigs.” Yongguk flashes a wry smile as Junko laughs, nearly spilling her coffee on her loose shirt.

She jabs a finger in his direction. “So Yongnam told you everything? Figures. in’ twins.”

“You’re black.” This brought another bout of giggles and Yongguk inwardly appreciated the fact she understood the underlying ‘pot meet kettle’ joke. “Well, I can’t exactly trust my brother to a dangerous stranger.”

“A murderer.”

His face fell quickly. “I never said that.”

Junko waggled that previously pointed finger. “I know you know. Why else would you act so apprehensive? Besides, you’re smart, people like you do research. And Jonguppie isn’t exactly the type that can handle confrontation. A little bit of pressure from someone he respects and he’ll crack.”

Yongguk didn’t deny anything because he didn’t see the need to lie about something they both know - there had been enough lying between them. “He told me that it wasn’t you. That you took the fall for a man with a newborn.”

“And that’s why you think I’m a good person now? Because I wanted a child to have a good life with both parents?” She shrugged and flopped her cramped legs over the armrest. “I like kids, and it was an honor killing. I don’t see it as something illegal, but coming from me I guess that doesn’t mean anything.” Junko polished off the rest of her coffee and offered Yongguk more who quickly refused - he had drank at least four cups working up the courage to come see her.

She went on. “As surprising as it sounds. I want children. I do, but I don’t think I’ll have any.”

“Why’s that?” Yongguk asked, question punctuated with a quirked brow.

Finally eye contact was made after what seemed like years. “I like kids, that’s why. I don’t want to punish them with a terrible, violent mother. Thankfully I’ll probably be dead before I can even dream about finding a man.”

Heart throbbing, Yongguk felt his blood run cold. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Cynically thinking, footmen could be replaced. There wasn’t a shortage of foolish young men who wanted to show they were ‘hard’ by being part of a gang, living the life of a criminal to show they were independent even of life’s rules. Even the higher ups could be replaced with time. But a leader is something you have to work for. Sweat, tears, and what he can only guess a copious amount of blood got you there, as well as being diplomatic, yet unrelenting.

But that also meant you were the most desired target, the one that, once killed, got you the real street cred.

“Then why do it?” Yongguk surprised himself with his own outburst. “Why live like that with the fear of dying without being able to really live?”

“The fact of death is what what makes living so dear and precious to us.” Junko smirked, not making a move to look at him but unravelling her braid as an excuse not to. “Because I feel that I’m helping someone else to live their life without fear. Here me out,” she quipped suspecting Yongguk would make another sarcastic noise. “Funny as it sounds, this area used to be a lot worse. Zero Line is, in the timeline of Korea’s underground, still in it’s infancy. I’m only the second leader they’ve ever had, Changkil being the first. Like him, I like to think I’m kind. When I said I was collecting money from the hospital, I wasn’t lying - it’s just another part of the job, though that wasn’t my territory. I collect money from businesses and families in Incheon, but I never do it through threats. I’m not a loan shark, and I don’t steal.

“At the same time, it’s exactly what you think it is : protection racket and loans. We get a share and in return we tell others to keep away, that we’ll know who they are and we will punish them. Flash a little tattoo and people really don’t want to mess with you. Or if they need money to get themselves off the ground or keep themselves afloat, we’ll help when the banks turn their backs. I believe that everyone deserves a chance, and I want to give them that. I mean, I don’t want to brag, but the standard of living around here has really gone up. Like, seriously.”

Hair out, she gave it a little shake that sent wavy strands everywhere. “Maybe it’s because I’m a woman, but it just feels like people trust you more when you flash a smile and not a pistol.”

Yongguk still wasn’t convinced. The money had to have come from somewhere in the first place, and you can’t just take money from people saying you are going to keep them safe. This wasn’t a security company. He didn’t feel like arguing, though.

“Then what are you?” The question left his mouth before he had time to think about it - it was probably the question his inner being wanted answered the most but knowing would make the situation all too real.

Junko tossed him a questioning look from across the space. She stared into his eyes, searching for what he could mean, then looked back into her empty mug when she felt she had an understanding. “I guess you could say . . . A mix. Between the Triads and the Geondal.” Knowing he had no idea what she was talking about, Junko began to expand on the statement.

“As you know, most of what Korea is today is basically an evolution from everything Chinese. Well the same goes for The House. It began as a branch of the mainland Chinese triads called Hóng Huìxīng. It wasn’t as big as 14K or Wo Shing Wo, but it was there and could not be ignored. Focussing mainly on ion and extortion, Hóng Huìxīng quickly branched out into Vietnam, Malaysia, and Korea, changing their focus to human trafficking and smuggling.

“Around ‘68 there was a great war between rivalling gangs in Korea, around the time the Tet Offensive was launched. Hóng Huìxīng was smuggling weapons to the Việt Minh as many of the Vietnamese factions were fighting for the North during the war. Being so spread out and focussing so much of their energy on the profit being made in Vietnam, they really did not stand a chance in the fight and were eventually absorbed into the Singsangsapa. From there it’s really just geondal history until 1975 when Singsangsapa’s New Year party was - for lack of a better word - crashed by Beonhonampa and dissolved.

“With the developments under the Park Chung Hee’s administration, many different gangs rose in Korea as I’m sure you know. In 1977 The House was officially formed by surviving Singsangsapa and Hóng Huìxīng members, gaining influence from both styles of gangs until what we have now was formed - kkangpae following the structure of triads with a little bit of their own personality mixed in. Kind of like the Dollars.”

Junko laughed inwardly at Yongguk’s slow nods, proud of herself for getting him to believe an anime reference as part of official history. When she would tell him she didn’t know, but it would sure be an event.

Outside the sounds of daily life were starting to grow. Fishermen called out every once in awhile about the deals they were advertising and which fish were the freshest. The subtle sound of a child begging their mother to buy them something rang out, it being the weekend and most children enjoying a day without studies and school. In the distance a church bell rang, signalling the start of mass.

It had been a while since Yongguk had been to church. Between practice, performances, and everything else an idol had on their plate, there was not much room left to practice faith. He would just have to settle with frequent prayer.

“Why are you comfortable telling me all of that?”

Junko, nibbling on a strawberry, shrugged her shoulders in an exaggerated manner. “Who are you going to tell? The police? They already know all about me. I have as many past charges as you have awards. My Captain at Camp Humphreys wouldn’t care since I’m not in the army anymore, and I doubt that your bandmates don’t already know about me, let alone your family. I just don’t really have anything to worry about.” She held up the bowl of strawberries and jostled it until he took one.

“Really, I guess it’s just because I like you. You’re very welcoming.” She flashed him a teasing smile that Yongguk didn’t know if he should return. Enough doubt, he thought, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked away. This pulled a soft laugh from Junko. “Why don’t we talk about something else if you’re done with your notes? Any new songs in the works?”

Suddenly feeling as though he were in another interview, Yongguk straightened slightly and looked up with a subtle gleam of pride in his eyes. Junko raised her eyebrows in amusement, lips wrapped around another strawberry.

“I never really stop writing, though recently Jongup and I were talking about a couple of ideas he’s had. He’s really shown an interest in lyric writing since we’ve debuted.”

From across the table Junko nodded, a look of pride in her own eyes. It was amusing to see, really, this woman who had so many things under her belt and so many things to worry about be so innocently happy when her brothers were mentioned. Even if the was so small, she always had a sense of motherly duty when it came to the younger ones, following their mother so dutifully in hopes of learning anything she could that would help qualm this ever-present desire to take care of those around her. Lunches, helping with homework, praising them when they did something good. Despite coming to terms with the idea she should not have kids, Junko was sure she was born to be a nurturer, accepting this reality as the grand punishment for the life she had chosen to lead.

The two spoke on about B.A.P, what he hoped for their future as well as Junko asking about the more intimate secrets of being an idol and an international icon.

“Isn’t it weird having so many girls doing things like waiting for you at the aeroport, worshipping pictures of you, and saying naughty things towards you online?”

Twisting his lips Yongguk hummed while thinking of a response. “It was really strange at first, but having so many people pay attention to you suddenly is also a bit strange. I appreciate all of our fans and their quirks, though. They’re so talented and nice.”

“But it’s like having thousands of people flirting with you all at once. Isn’t that weird?”

“It’s kind of flattering in a unique way. Not like you would know what it feels like, right?” He tossed her a sly smirk, hoping the sharp comment would be taken like the joke it was meant to be.

Junko tossed a similar look over her shoulder having been putting the bowl of remaining strawberries back in the mini fridge. “Son, have you seen me? I am beautiful, an angel of purity and grace.” She did a little twirl, long strands of hair curling around her waist before collapsing with a too loud laugh at the action. Yongguk looked down with a similar action, giggling embarrassedly at the show in front of him.

Slowly he rose to his feet, stretching a bit after sitting for nearly four hours. The time was just past noon and he needed to get back to the studio for last minute rehearsals. Sensing he was looking for a way to break the ice, Junko offered her hand to him for a farewell handshake.

“Thank you for coming to see me. It was nice to be able to talk again. I would tell you not to be a stranger, but . . .” she let the sentence hang.

Yongguk took the chance to look around as she escorted him to the door. Despite having as much money as she claimed, the warehouse wasn’t as spectacular as he expected it to be. Sure, it was a warehouse of all things, but it was mostly barren. Two cars sat near the far wall, one covered by a tarp while the other one, quite expensive looking, had the hood open which led him to believe it was out of commision. Behind them was a single large toolbox.

Even the landing they had been sitting on had just a cheap couch, two seats, and a coffee table found in any discount furniture shop. He wondered if living humbly was just a show she was putting on, or a deterrent if the warehouse was ever raided by police. Or maybe, just maybe, she was content with the ‘mission’ she claimed to have for the area and didn’t have any desires for wealth. Knowing Junko, it was the latter.

Farewells exchanged, Yongguk walked the few feet down the street to a shaded bench, pulling a ball cap over his head to hide his identity from anyone who might recognize him. Behind him a group of children played on a playscape, laughing and calling out amongst each other. He listened to them with a small smile on his face, leaning his head back to enjoy the clear sky above. It was really a beautiful day.

A honk drew him out of his reverie - a cab sat pulled up to the sidewalk in front of him. Yongguk hopped up and entered the door open for him by the same driver who had driven him here from Seoul.

“I take it you had a good time?” The older man asked once he had pulled back onto the street.

Yongguk, casting a glance at the warehouse as they passed it, grinned shortly. “Something like that.”

“Ah, so you visited that place, huh?”

This drew his attention to the driver. “You know about that place?”

The older man cast a glance at him from the rear view mirror. “Yes, I know all about it. We might not seem like it, but us old folks do pay attention.” Yongguk waved his hands in defence but the old man just laughed. “Everyone in this area knows about Miss Moon, she is a very popular young girl. She helped my business stay afloat and keep my friends and I able to feed our families, even helped me send my youngest one to university. This area owes her a lot. Funny isn’t it? Kkangpae helping little folks like us?”

From the back he just hummed, catching the shrinking reflection of the warehouse in the side mirror. Just before it faded from view, Yongguk caught the image of Junko exiting the building, slipping something silver underneath her blazer near her ribs. Something he knew had to be a gun.

“My grand-daughter prays for her every night. Thanks God she isn’t afraid of walking to school anymore, says she wants to be a police officer like eonnie. If only she knew, huh?” A small sigh escaped the driver and he shook his head.

Yeah, Yongguk thought, if only she knew.