The next day, they were stuck at the motel. Chunji's car wasn't in any condition to leave the workshop yet, and the male could only whine about it. He refused to quit questioning the mechanic on its finished date. Byunghun listened in on their conversation as much as Chunji allowed, which was quite entertaining from the constant fight the put up. But after several seconds, the line went silent, and Chunji could only manage a sigh. Again, the blond didn't mind the new situation. If he had to continue waiting around, he was more than willing to do so. Chunji, on the other hand, seemed awfully impatient. 

"You must want to get rid of me really badly, huh?" Byunghun rolled onto his stomach, placing his hands under his chin as he peered over at the .

"Pft." Chunji began, sweeping his fingers through his hair, "I'm more worried about my car than when you get there." Byunghun stifled a laugh, somewhat finding relief in the reply. Chunji seated himself on the edge of the bed, placing his gaze onto the blond. "What was that about yesterday anyway? What did they need you for?"

Byunghun didn't respond, instead, he folded his arms and let his head rest on them, settling his gaze elsewhere, "I'll tell you some other time." Even when curious, Chunji knew respect when it came to personal topics, and that must've been a sensitive one for the boy, so he shrugged it off, deciding against further investigation.

"Then let's go somewhere. There should be a restaurant not too far from here. We could walk, if you're up for it." Chunji stood up, offering his hand to the blond. Nostalgia struck Byunghun in that instant. The same memory where Chunji offered his hand before, only, it was during their first encounter. He had taken the request with hesitation, but this time, he was more than willing. 

They began their walk beside the busy street. It was hot, and the air was dry, but Byunghun still found it comforting. Portions of the grass were missing, leaving only clumps of stale dirt in its place. There wasn't that much trees anymore, being in the practically barren fields and little stops for truck drivers to get a decent meal and gas. The diner was designed especially for travellers, and once they were on the front step, they were greeted with a friendly face. 

"Table for two?" The hostess asked with a wide, artificial smile. Chunji merely nodded. She led them to a decent spot near the window, and proceeded to take their order as well, "We do have a couples discount. If you two lovely gentlemen are interested."

At that moment, Chunji and Byunghun both craned their necks to stare at her in obvious disbelief. She took a moment before understanding what was implied, and inched away. 

"First time anyone's ever assumed I was gay." Chunji rested his eyes onto the menu, trying his best not to let it trouble him.

A laugh sounded from Byunghun's throat, "Well, it's not going to be the last time."

"Excuse me, little runt?"

A new waitress approached their table with almost the same aesthetic grin as the last one moments after to take their orders. The boys proceeded to order two cups of coffee, one dark and one with milk and sugar added. And their day began with a small conversation about the restaurant's tacky interior and suffocating scent of lavender and peaches. They did not speak about their history, or anything else that was implied personal. It was always about something else, something that had no relations to them.

Byunghun glanced down at his cream-like coffee with hesitation. Like most things, coffee was never given to him. He was used to living on a bottle of water and fair portions of rice with a side of dried seaweed. Occassionally he'd be treated with a cup of various fruits. But that was as much of luxury he had ever come close to. Chunji, on the other hand, practically survived off of bitter coffee and respectful amounts of alcohol. As soon as he spotted Byunghun's weary expression, he chuckled.

"It won't kill you, Byunghun. I promise."

Byunghun's eyes studied the liquid once more before finally taking a sip. There was a pause, and then he started gulping it all down.

"Byunghun, wait--" Chunji began, resisting the urge to laugh, "You're not supposed to take it all in one gulp--"

The blond's eyes immediately widened as he placed the mug back down onto the table. Embarrassment was evident all over his reddened face. "Wha-- I'm not going to die, am I?!" 

With a shake of his head, Chunji managed to laugh, suggesting he was safe. It was strange to him, the boy seated across from him, that is. Everything was always a matter in black and white. He'd wake up, tend to his work duties, then greet his bed once more for sleep. For a long time, that's all he's been doing. He never found a purpose as to why he lived. He just did. He almost forgot how it was like to have a friend, to find meaning in someone else's presence. But in a matter of hours, here he was, finding Byunghun's company rather enjoyable. It was different. Byunghun was different.

It was almost as if Byunghun, instead, was the one keeping him company. Rather than the other way around as it was supposed to be.

Then came the sudden outbreak of gunfire. The occupants of the restaurant immediately broke into frantic screams and runs, taking cover underneath the tables and shuddering in fear. There were two males at the doorway, one with a gun in his hand. Their stern expressions consisted of aged features, as well as a few scars along their cheekbones. "Which one of you is Byunghun?" The gun's owner spoke out.

No one said a word.

But as the man directed his gun at a waitress near the corner, the blond couldn't help but stand up. "Me." He huffed, trying to control his own shaking frame, "I'm Byunghun."

The man was surprised, but began to advance towards their table in a matter of seconds, his partner following close beside him. When their gaze landed on Chunji, the unarmed man seized the by his hair, soon grabbing his wrists as well and dragging him off the chair. "This must be the guy who killed her." Chunji grunted as a response, struggling to free himself. The man with the gun directed it straight at the restrained .

"What do you guys want?" Byunghun blurted out with haste, practically panicking at the sight before him.

The man who held Chunji captive laughed, "Impatient little fella. Don't worry, we're not going to kill you. We need you alive to get paid. However, this guy... He's killed a good friend of someone who hired us. And he wants him dead." From the corner of Byunghun's eye, he spotted one of the waitresses reaching over the counter for the phone. 

There was a pause. Byunghun's eyes now stared directly at the gun in one of the men's hands, then followed to where it pointed onto Chunji's forehead. This was it. One movement and he was going to die, and frankly, that'd be a good thing for the blond. Without an meant he wouldn't have to go to the testing center. He wouldn't have to continue what he had been doing for his whole life. No more tests or experiments. Chunji's death meant his freedom.

But was his freedom worth taking Chunji's life?

Chunji began to growl at the men, kicking his legs in the process, "Yeah, you wanna kill me? Fight me then. One on one, c'mon." But his efforts were sadly wasted when he noticed the two strangers ignoring him completely.

"How about a game?" Byunghun began; his eyes fixed solely onto the man with the gun, whose expression seemed to transition with amusement at the question. He nodded for Byunghun to go on.

"I'm listening."

The blond's eyes locked onto Chunji's confused ones for a moment before he seated himself in his chair again, "How familiar are you with a gun?"

"Pretty damn familiar."

"Good." Byunghun faked a smug grin as he gestured for the man to seat himself in Chunji's previous chair, "You have another gun on you?"

The man's eyes glanced over at his partner, who placed his own weapon on top of the table, which was identical to the one the man owned. "Right here."

Byunghun paused for a moment, drawing a subtle breath before continuing, "It can be either a good game, or a bad one. Depends on how well you know your gun. First, you dismantle the guns and leave the pieces here on the table, then, after the signal to go, you and I will compete in rebuilding the guns. First one to finish wins. And of course, if you win, then you get to have your way with Mr. Antsy over there, and I'll agree to what you need me to do."

Chunji's eyes widened in disbelief, portraying a hint of irritation from the nickname he was given as well. The man across from Byunghun, however, seemed quite pleased with the deal, then began to lean forward in his seat, "What happens if you win then?"

Byunghun laughed, leaning back in his chair, "Come on. You think I'll win?"

"Have you ever even handled a gun before?" Chunji broke out as he tried once more to detach himself from the man who restrained him from doing so. In his voice lied panic, and it was evident enough for everyone around the table to identify.

The blond shook his head, "Nope."

The calm expression on Byunghun's features didn't help Chunji's anxiety at all. His life was dependent on a kid who had never come close to a gun before, let alone handle one. Was the blond trying to actually get him killed? Did he even care at all?

The stern-faced man began to dismantle the weapons, placing the parts in their respective areas in front of both males. Byunghun's eyes never left from the guns being disassembled.

And that was that. The pieces lay dormant on the surface of the table, waiting to be reconstructed. The man who held Chunji took the initiative to begin the countdown.

"Three."

Byunghun's gaze met Chunji's in that brief moment, and he could sense, even if he wasn't looking, all of the fear that was now surfacing inside of the . It was the first time he's ever seen so much emotion in the male. He was always so disguised, masked by a nonchalant appearance and a strictly neutral tone of voice. There were occassions where he would imply content, or anger, but it was never so much, or so long. It was clear, that this life meant something to him.

"Two."

Byunghun's eyes now lingered onto the male across from him, who seemed more than smug on the challenge issued. He was confident. It was obvious. However, so was the blond. He had been in this situation for more than half of his life. It was just like another test in the lab, only difference was Chunji's involvement.

"One." 

The two males leaned forward, preparing for the announcement to begin. One had a particularly better chance of winning, and everyone in the restaurant knew it. By now, everyone was all interested in the controversy as well. Their bets on who would end up victorious were all unanimous, but their hopes were high enough to hope for the one who was unlikely to come out victorious.

"Go."

And the battle began. They both had started scrambling for parts and pieces over the table, snapping sections together here and there. The recoil guide followed into the spring, then into the barrel, all slid onto the top of the frame before the final product was added. The man had quick fingers, and his expression depicted his content when he reached for the last piece; the ammunition to be slid into the handle, however, just as his fingers brushed onto the firearm, the barrel of another gun pointed directly at his face.

Byunghun smirked, "Looks like you were a little too late." 

The audience watching all nearly gasped, Chunji being one among them.

The trigger quickly pulled, and the bullet immediately projected through the man's skull, of course, not at a perfect angle, but it was enough for the male's frame to collapse from the impact. Byunghun directed the gun onto the male who held Chunji captive right after, causing the man to take cover in fear. With quick reflexes, the snatched the gun from the blond's hand and fired at the dead man's partner. Blood began to pool underneath the table, and the faint snore of sirens could be heard in the distance. Byunghun's breathing was heavy, it was only obvious to him now. And Chunji, who was also just as worked up from the previous events that took place, could only stare blankly at the blond before him. He still could not unravel the mystery concerning the boy. And he wasn't sure if he wanted to.

- - -

The police had arrived moments later to a scene that didn't benefit them much, but with the help of occupants in the restaurant, they were able to get away with the murders, explaining that it was an attempt of self-defense. By now, night had already fallen, and the air was no longer dusty and dry, but stingy and frigid. Ambulances and police vehicles crowded up the front lot of the restaurant, and people bickered constantly about the occurance that had just taken place. All surprised, yet relieved at the outcome.

Byunghun was seated on the bench near the side of the diner; a cup of coffee compliments from the owner tucked in his fingers. After being questioned, Chunji soon joined him on the other end with a fair distance between them. They didn't speak for awhile, not until a good minute had elapsed.

"Thanks." Chunji began, casting his gaze on everything but the blond beside him, "For not letting me die back there."

Byunghun was rendered speechless, not because of surprise, but more of disappointment. It was true that he hadn't let that happen, but he did consider it. If he had let the male beside him lose his life, where would he be in that instant? Would he have touched freedom at all?

"Don't mention it." The blond replied after a given moment, fixing his eyes onto the milky liquid in his mug.

Chunji finally mustered enough of his strength to glance over at the other, somewhat skeptically, "I thought you never handled a gun before."

"I haven't." 

The blinked, "Then.. how?"

Byunghun fell into silence for a long time, studying the stilled coffee before finally meeting Chunji's eyes with his own, "I remembered." When Chunji registered confusion, the blond took the opportunity to continue, "When he dismantled it, I remembered the procedure, and reversed it. Which is part of the reason why the government finds me useful. I have exceptional memory. Give me a passage, I'll recite it to you by memory. A picture, I could redraw it by memory. I remember everything I see, everything I feel."

Chunji's eyes blinked once, still trying to process the information given to him. But as he was decoding questions in his head, he came to realize how Byunghun managed to escape the hotel so easily without getting lost. He must've remembered the courses of the map. It made perfect sense now. And his value did as well. But what he couldn't understand, was why the government classified it as a gift. From his perspective, it was certainly not one. It seemed more like... a misfortune. To remember everything that had ever been an aspect of his life. There will be things he wishes to forget, yet for his enhanced brain, it will be next to impossible. The question was no longer who this boy was, but what was he thinking of. Was he reliving every portion of his life every day? The tragedy, the peaks and the downfalls? Or was his life too consistent of historical articles and blueprints that his only real memories were ones he developed when he was a child?

Did the only thing his brain had managed to forget, 

was that he, too, was only human?

A/N: I didn't get to review it much ;A; but i wanted to update so i hope this is fine!