there are 2 bonus bits.

1st is a post epilogue thing, but imo, the real one is a much better ending, which is why it's the original one

2nd is a taohun side story drabble (i linked to it in one of the chapters) called "An Alternate Way of Meeting." everything's the same except sehun lives by himself and is not very nice

Lay was the only one left of the first generation of killers in the group. Kris had gone missing, Tao had turned. And Lay was all by himself, trying to keep his valued status, trying to follow all the orders, trying to keep the second generations in their place, trying to not die.

He was different from the other two. Kris hated this life, but he was easily broken. Tao went along with everything, but a fierce resentment burned in him. He was miserable, but proud. Lay, though, just did everything he could to stay alive. That was the most important thing, at the end of the day. Tao used to ask him what the point of staying alive was if he lived like this. Lay didn't have an answer then, and he didn't have an answer now.

Walking against the masses, he stuck his hands in his pockets and stared down at the ground, counting his footsteps until he reached the apartment. Looking up at the building, there was a strange feeling of sadness. For Master's latest mission, Tao was given his own living space. And he had really lived (until he died because of it). During the few times they had seen each other, Tao always gushed to Lay about his boyfriend. And a stray puppy he had found on the streets.

Lay didn't know what had come over him, but there he was, picking the lock to his dead friend's apartment. The first thing he realized after entering, was the musty smell to the room, although it had only been two days. He flicked the light on and surveyed the simple room. There were signs of life scattered throughout, magazines and discarded clothes. Lay snickered at the wrappers in the bedroom, but then he heard a small noise.

He spun around, guards up, wondering if Master had sent Bii to follow him. 

And a small white ball crept towards him.

Lay narrowed his eyes.

It barked.

Lay freaked the out, hitting his hand on the doorframe. 

Until he realized the thing was Tao's stupid puppy and it was judging him.

Yes, he was a contract assassin. No, he had never been around small animals in his life.

Lay watched it warily as it padded towards him. It's white fur was mangy and matted, showing that either Tao was a bad owner, or that it had gotten into too much mischief the last two days. It at Lay's feet, making pitiful noises and Lay finally surrendered. He dropped onto the floor, letting the puppy climb into his lap. 

"Do you miss Tao?" he asked, absently trying to untangle the matted fur. "I kinda do. We were as close as possible, which isn't that close. But I guess it's enough, seeing how I'm here."

But what was he doing here? Did he think he could find some closure or whatever, talking to a dog?

"So you've been living here by yourself for two days, huh?" He lowered his head, peering at the puppy. "Are you hungry?"

From his sitting position, he glanced around to no avail. "Ugh," he grunted, setting the dirty cotton ball down and getting up with much effort. "Where's your food?"

As if the dog (what is it's name? Tao probably mentioned before, but Lay couldn't remember.) could understand, it raised its head towards some corner. Lay walked over, turning away and walking in the opposite direction if the dog made an agitated bark. It felt like playing "hot or cold," but with a puppy and it was absolutely ridiculous. And the triumph Lay felt when he finally found the bag of dog food was even more ridiculous.

Lay sat back and watched as the puppy inhaled the bowl of food and water he had poured out. Was this what Tao felt? Sitting in this room, taking care of this little thing, offering love and affection to the world instead of taking it away? But Tao was dead, so it really shouldn't matter.

He had never felt so empty before.

His phone went off, vibrating against him and the buzz echoing throughout the apartment. The dog glanced up at him, cocking its head quizzically. Lay ignored the look and took a deep breath before answering. "Yes, Master?"

The dog continued staring at him. That phrase was probably familiar to it.

"The Oh boy has gone missing. None of the team sent that day has seen his body." His master's voice was devoid of all emotion, more so than before, and it sent chills down Lay's spine. "Go find it."

And then the call ended with a click.

Lay glared at the phone as if it could solve his problems. 

"So now I have to make sure Tao's boyfriend is dead too?" Lay muttered to himself. He glanced at the dog, which had finished its meal and was still staring at him. Lay sighed and pushed himself up with a huff. "Wanna go with me, puppy?"

~ ~ ~

After a difficult, sarcastic and longer-than-needed conversation wtih Bii, Lay found himself leaning against the railing, staring down at the Han River. The waves were calm, as if it hadn't watched a desperate fight for life three days ago. Or maybe it had experienced too many of those things. Or maybe it didn't care.

Apathetic river, pathetic humans, Lay thought. 

This was where the Oh had jumped and consquently disappeared. He could have stayed hidden underwater until his pursuers had left and then escaped, Lay mused. But it wasn't very probable. 

Where was he supposed to get a body to show Master?

He was suddenly reminded of how Kris had gone missing, apparently killed, but body never found. Lay had always hoped that Kris had escaped and found a better life. Maybe the Oh had escaped in the same way he had, swallowed into a void where only they knew about. 

It would be better that way, Lay decided. He could make up an extravagant story for Master, he could throw himself over the bridge, but he wouldn't go find the Oh.

Or else, this story would never end.

Going Back In Time

They were chasing after him. His feet pounded against the asphalt, his heart thudded in his chest. Bullets whizzed by and he staggered on.

So much pain.

He was bleeding from too many places, oozing from between his fingers as he tried to hold a wound closed, leaving a trail for his pursuers to follow.

They were closer now.

A bullet nicked his ear before shooting into a trash can nearby, with a force that could have destroyed him. His vision swam and he held onto the wall for support as he tried to run.

They were coming.

Sehun woke up with a start and realized there was pounding on the door. Muttering curses, he dragged himself out of bed, slipped on a pair of sweatpants, and trudged over to the door. “What the do you want?” he demanded as he flung it open, revealing a haggard-looking man.

“Please help-”

And then he collapsed. 

Oh Sehun was a mafia child. He didn’t know about calculus, but he knew too many ways to kill someone. And he did not take in stray cats or unconscious men in the middle of the night. But he did and he glanced down at the sleeping man on the couch with distaste. 

Sehun sighed, eased the man out of his torn jacket, and began the long process of cleaning his wounds.

~ ~ ~

“Who are you?”

At that raspy, husky voice, Sehun looked over to the couch from the kitchen. “You passed out in front of my house,” he replied. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking that question? But to answer you, I'm Sehun.”

Something flashed through the man’s eyes- pain, confusion, recognition, fear. He muttered something to himself and then, “I have to go.”

“Oh, no. You can’t just leave like that,” Sehun said, carefully picking up the bowl of broth he had prepared and brought it over. “I have soup and some questions.”

The man shrunk back into the couch and stared at him warily. 

Sehun chuckled. “Don’t be afraid. I won’t kill you now. I just need some answers.”

“I- I don’t know anything!”

Ignoring the other man’s stammered protests, Sehun lifted a spoonful of broth to his lips. “Open wide,” he instructed gently in a tone that demanded obedience. “Now, my first question. Who do you belong to?”

The man gulped, choking on the soup. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Sehun wiped his chin with a tissue. “I cleaned your wounds and searched your body. You have no tattoos or known markings, just the scars on your arm. Is it a new group?”

The man kept his mouth closed adamantly and Sehun set the soup down. “Okay, then how about this. Do you know who’s territory this is?”

“The Kims,” he mumbled.

“And what were you doing here?”

The man closed his eyes. “Please just kill me.”

Sehun made a face, even though the other couldn’t see him. “I won’t kill you after going through all that trouble to save your life.”

“Now we’re even,” the man mumbled.

“Excuse me?” Sehun unconsciously leaned forward.

“I won’t tell you anything.”

Sehun settled back in his seat. “I guess there’s a reason why people use torture instead of warm soup during questioning. No one takes kindness seriously.”

The man opened his eyes and studied Sehun, as if confused by his words. “Please let me go,” he finally pleaded.

They stared at each other, neither wanting to relent. 

Finally, Sehun sighed. He stood up and walked towards the kitchen. “We’ll meet again and it won’t be this pleasant.” 

I hate to be this kind of author but please PLEASE PLEASE comment. i really really need feedback

what was good about this fic? what was bad? what should i improve on? etc

thank you for reading this entire thing. it means a lot to me! and if you want to stick around, there's an explanation chapter coming soon ^_^