June 13, 20xx, 14:07

"Don't go."



The first thing he said this time, before Minho had a chance to open his mouth. He was sure that it sounded a little ridiculous, but desperate times called for desperate measures.



"I'm not going anywhere?" Minho sounded perplexed. Jinki didn't blame him.

The thing was, Jinki had never been great at thinking on his feet. Or under pressure. And this was both. "So," he began, hoping that this time it would actually work.. "There's something I have to tell you. Um, other than what we have to, uh, talk about. It'sóif I gave you a series of numbers, would they mean anything to you?"



Minho looked at him blankly. "What."



So maybe it wasn't working. But you couldn't blame him for not trying. "5249 5641 8592 3863 3400 9431," he recited, and hoped that he actually got it right.



"9411," Minho automatically corrected—before he slapped a hand over his mouth.

Well. So he didn't get it right. But on the other hand—

"So you do know," Jinki said quietly.

Minho fixed him with a hard stare. "Where did you get it from?" he asked.

"The future," he joked, and then shook his head, expression sombering. "That's not important—and um when your phone rings I don't think you should pickitupbecausethenyou'regoingtogobecauseit'sforworkandIpromisethatthisisforthesamething." His words ran into each other as he tried to spit out the rest of his sentence before Minho's phone rang. He barely managed.

"Don't," Jinki repeated—and this time, a glimmer of hope took fragile shape in cavity tucked between his tongue and the roof his mouth, because there was the faintest hesitation in Minho's eyes. He felt a little bad about it, really, he did. He'd make it up to him later, he promised himself. "It's really not a good idea."

"Why not?" Minho asked. His hand was hovering near his pocket.

"Because you'll die," Jinki said simply. He didn't mention that Minho might, regardless. "It's...complicated," he explained. Without really explaining.

Minho frowned, and Jinki took it as a sign to continue. "What do they mean?" Jinki said before Minho has a chance to speak. The ringing finally stopped, and Jinki allowed himself a moment of relief before pressing on. "The numbers. They're a location, right? A hideout?"

"That's—"

"Avenue and Fifth," Jinki pressed on relentlessly. "In that direction."

Minho hesitated—maybe, just maybe, some progress. Their eyes met, Minho's unblinkingly large as they assessed Jinki, and Jinki wondered if Minho'd figured it out yet—again—that he wasn't quite who Minho thought he was. He held his breath.

"The harbour," Minho said eventually. "The first two refer to the harbour, the second two are time coordinates, and the last two are the exact location." He spoke slowly, enunciating the words.

Jinki allowed a smile of relief—because this was a start. The smile slipped away just as quickly when Minho frowned. "You're not him," he said.

"Sort of," Jinki admitted. He'd been expecting this. "Not really."

He was getting really good at this cutting people off business—to be fair, he'd never really had a chance to do this before. "There's...um something else too," he said just as Minho was about to say something more. Minho looked at him curiously, as Jinki reached into his pocket. He fumbled with the note for a moment, before pressing it into Minho's hands.

Minho's face went from displeased to perplexed to...Jinki wasn't quite sure, but the corners of his eyes were drawn and he was frowning a little, his bottom lip sandwiched between his teeth, leaving Jinki wondering if that was a good expression or not.

It was another few moments before Minho looked back up at him, their eyes locking.

"So. Yeah." Jinki shifted uncomfortably in his seat. He was wasting time—he knew he was, but.

"You're not him," Minho said simply.

Jinki nodded. He could guess what Minho meant behind those words. "I... thought you might want to know anyway."

Minho frowned at him, and Jinki wondered briefly if this really was all just a waste of time. "Just—"

"You look like him." It was Minho's turn to cut him off, and Jinki found himself momentarily speechless. Well, he supposed he must look like him, all things considering. They'd never managed more than one person in a source code even in simple test situations to be able to determine how it worked exactly. Minho's phone went off again at that moment. Minho broke eye contact just long enough to fish his phone out of his pocket. Jinki eyed the phone warily, but Minho simply leftit on the table, still ringing.

"You're...not going to pick up?" Jinki asked hesitantly.

Minho laughed, catching Jinki off guard. "You told me I'd die," he pointed out. "I can spare a few moments before that, I think."

"Oh," Jinki said simply. "It's... There's a guy in a green shirt, and they're going to kidnap a guy called Kim Jonghyun - or maybe they already have, but either way you would've been too late."

As if on cue, there was a screech of tires as the same car Jinki'd seen too many times already barrelled past. Jonghyun was in there, but at this moment, Jinki's focus only flickered there for a moment before reverting to Minho - not this Jonghyun, he reminded himself. "Too late," he confirmed with a wry smile.

Minho wasn't smiling as he stood, knocking his chair back. He stuffed his phone in his pocket, looking at Jinki. "I lied," he said abruptly.

Jinki blinked, frowned. Stood a moment later. "Sorry?"

"About the code," Minho said before Jinki had a chance to work his mind around things. "The first four digits refer to a highly classified message, only the second four refer to the harbour. And only the first four of the last eight refer to the Princess. The last four digits mean a kidnapping. 31 would mean nothing."

"Oh," Jinki said, but Minho had already taken off, great long loping steps that Jinki didn't have a chance to catch up to, but he chased after him anyway. "Where are you going?"

Minho glanced over his shoulder, an unreadable expression in his eyes, but if Jinki had to take a guess, he'd say it was something a little like anger. "To rescue him," he yelled, and only quickened his pace.

The distance between them lengthened, and Jinki slowed to a jog. His feet hit the pavement heavily, even as his brain worked around the past few minutes. He got it, he realised suddenly, where Jonghyun was. ThePrincess. By the harbour. But—

The sounds of a gunshot ringing out surprised him. And not just him, he realised. A child's cry, and Jinki foundhimself inside of the bakery. Bakery? he'd asked Taemin. Yeah, Taemin had said.

Jinki frowned, wondering at the futility of it all even as he walked into the bakery as calmly as he could. "Please leave this place," he says to the girl working behind the counter. There's a fear in her eyes, and he's not surprised. "Quickly," he says. "And everyone."

She nods, going into the back, returning with a number of employees and the person who he can only guess is the owner. "Is there a problem, young man?"

"There's..." Jinki nods. It's strange how calm he is. Like everything's already done. "There's a bomb," he says. "I think it's safest if... you leave for now."

"Better safe than sorry," the owner says amicably. "Although if this is just a prank—"

"It's not!" Jinki says quickly.

The bakery vacated, Jinki runs down the alleyway. He hesitates at the door, still open a crack. Nervously, he checks his phone—just under a minute left, in theory.

In theory.

He could see Jonghyun on the ground, still and unmoving. Minho was standing next to him, a gun held firmly in his hands. There was a conversation going on, but Jinki couldn't quite catch it. He slipped through the door—Minho caught his eye, and Jinki swallowed, pressing himself against the wall.

It was the same people from before. He could count three different guns trained on Minho—and to think he'd never seen a single real one before today. That must be what it meant when they said that whenever it rained, it poured. And—

"." The word slipped out of his mouth before he could stop it, as he noticed a fourth. A fourth that Minho didn't seem to have noticed, because he was hidden behind a few old barrels.

He could feel his heart pounding now. He glanced at Minho, but he was still talking in calm undertones, deflecting questions with unwavering aim. He glanced at the fourth man, slowly getting to his feet.

So Jinki had made plenty of bad decisions already, right? So one more couldn't hurt?

He threw himself forward, their combined weight hitting one of the barrels in enough of a clatter that when Jinki looked up again, all eyes were in their direction.

"Minho!" he yelled, even as Minho reverted his attention, quick shots sounding out in succession. The man Jinki had been struggling with flipped them over, so now Jinki was pinned under his weight. There was a glint to his eyes that he couldn't say he liked. The sort of glint that really got his heart pounding, and his mouth was terribly dry.

And—, the gun. He tried to knock it surreptitiously out of the way, but the other man got there first. Jinki followed it with his eyes, wondering how long it'd been.

The gun disappeared. Or it seemed it disappeared, the man suddenly clutching his hand to his chest with a howl of pain. With a sudden burst of strength, Jinki pushed him off, scrambling to his feet. Minho came running over, gun still in hand.

"You okay?" he asked.

He was worried, Jinki realised. He nodded mutely, eyes scanning the situation. There were four limp bodies—one was Jonghyun, one was the first woman, so the other two were—

He looked at Minho, eyes wide. "There's still—" was all he managed to get out, before another gun shot split the air, and Jinki was being shoved out of the way, Minho's weight tumbling on top of him.

"—one more," he finished quietly. "Why?" he asked, even as Minho's grip on Jinki's shoulder was loosening. "I'm not...him."

"You're like him," was all Minho said. "I... you look like him."

"Oh," Jinki said quietly. He sighed, let his head fall against the floor. The gunman was standing, Jonghyun's body being carried out. Blue jacket, he thought—the guy with the detonator was the one wearing the blue jacket.

A movement caught his eye, and he squinted at the '19' on the clock—

—and then the world blew up around him.