riding the 1:20AM bus from seoul to gangwon every morning makes you notice the same people. lee taemin knows this from experience.

he had a peculiar routine. he would leave gangwon-do sometime before lunch. most of his afternoon and evening would be working at a makeup store in myeongdong. at night, well, he would go to yixing for dance lessons — he would always leave with all sorts of muscle aches.

it goes on and on, until the only choice taemin is left with to go home is on that early morning bus.

he climbs up, and takes his usual seat, six rows from the front, on the right isle, the window seat. he spotted people who had the same messed up schedule as him. an old man with an almost completely bald head, a mother with a baby girl, and him.

he was someone, from the first time he saw him, taemin immediately knew to be part of a gang, a rather well known and organised gang in seoul, EXO. he was tall, a bit tan, and was never quite smiling nor frowning. he usually wears long sleeved and buttoned shirts, and his cufflinks proudly display EXO's emblem.

he had a routine with him. taemin would smile, and he would raise the upper corners of his lips. though it still wasn't a smile.

they go through that process again. unsurprisingly, he sits in the left isle, directly across taemin's seat. the gangster (he wore white today, taemin noticed) takes an additional second to take in how taemin looked like.

taemin knew he looked bad, he was exhausted and breathing too deeply, and too slowly; he forgot to take an extra shirt with him today to change into so his shirt looked like it went through war. maybe it did.

taemin, in his out-of-it state, failed to notice a few passengers; mainly, a drunk who was passed out, and a few high school students.

the dancer noticed the students trying to pick the drunk's pockets. it was embarrassing to watch them; they were clumsy, and taemin knew what amateurs look like. it was from experience, and these people don't even have the right to be called pickpockets.

“knock it off.” it was almost a whisper, and taemin wasn't sure why he said that. it was clearly the wrong thing to say, because he saw the glint of a knife in one of the students' hands. he tried to calm down and evaluate what his choices were.

eventually, taemin decided to sit next to his (a loose term, really) gangster. the students were approaching him — but when they saw the gleaming cufflinks of his companion, they scurried over to the furthest back seats. taemin silently expelled the breath he unconsciously held and turned to his left.

“umm, thank you.”

it's the first time taemin hears his voice. “what for? i didn't do anything.” it's low, and a bit throaty.

“well, you saved my life.” the dancer casually informs him. “i'm taemin.” he quickly adds.

the gangster shoots him a smile. “you can call me kai.” taemin decides it's the brightest smile he's seen yet, and it made him look from stern, to loveable.

“thank you, kai.”

the ride is over in the next hour, and all ten passengers get off. kai noticed the pickpockets eyeing taemin with a bad look.

“taemin, you should take this.” he hands over a ring with a chain that connects to a bracelet. a ring and a bracelet with the EXO insignia. taemin's eyes widen a little at the sight.

“won't you get, ah, in trouble for this?”

“i have a lot of them, and i can't really get in trouble for that.” kai replied, a laughing tone hiding in his voice. “you need it more than i do.”

taemin gives out an unsteady “thank you.” and puts on the ring and bracelet. “no one will bother you if you have that.” kai continues in a firmer tone. “they better not.” taemin isn't sure if he said that because he didn't like the thought of his gang being disrespected, or if it was because he didn't like that someone would harm him. he found himself strangely leaning to the latter possibility.

“i'll see you tomorrow morning, kai.”

this was more or less 700 words orz a drabble ((but not really)) a chapter zero of sorts for a taekai i'm writing! thank you for reading! leave a comment if you have time :)