Changhyun was jittery as he rushed through the overly large house he lived in with his grandparents.  He could feel them watching him while he checked and rechecked his bag and supplies, their subtle disproval and worry obvious for him though they tried to hide it.  On another run from the first floor to the second, he glanced up at them from under the fuzzy fall of his brown bangs and conjured a reassuring smile, “I’ll be fine, you know.”

                His grandmother pursed her lips and held tighter to her husband, old, wrinkled hands clinging to his arm.  Both had dark hair bleeding into silver, but their eyes were still sharp enough.  Mr. Yoo responded for the pair in a deep, age burred voice, “You should be home with family on this day.”

                “You’ve got each other,” Changhyun reminded them with an innocent smile, the warmth reaching his brown eyes.  “There are people out there that don’t have anybody,” he gestured towards the front door, the solid wooden barrier hiding the reality of the world outside.

                “Your parents wouldn’t approve,” Mrs. Yoo tried to guilt trip him with her soft voice.  Age had tempered her tone and the color of her brown eyes, but she was still very much his worrying grandmother.

                For a moment, Changhyun paused on the flight of stairs and looked down, chewing his bottom lip.  No, they wouldn’t.  But they weren’t here to stop him and he was needed elsewhere.  “I know,” he conceded with a semi-flippant shrug, pretending it didn’t bother him.  “But this is important,” the young man pleaded, coming off the stairs so that his sock covered feet whispered over the hardwood floor.  “And you know I can’t leave tomorrow,” he reminded them, coming close to grab his grandmother’s hands in his.

                She gripped his tightly with bony fingers and stared at him long and hard.  “You’re too kind for your own good,” Mrs. Yoo huffed, glancing at her husband quickly.

                “I had good role models,” he shot back gently, looking between the elderly pair.

                “Brat,” Mr. Yoo chuckled, ruffling Changhyun’s hair with his hand.  “If we can’t convince you to stay, at least let us send you off with the right supplies,” he shook his head, clapping his hand on his grandson’s shoulder.

                “Thank you, grandfather,” Changhyun beamed, looking between the pair with shimmery eyes before he let himself be pulled into his grandmother’s embrace.

                “You’re too much like your mother,” Mr. Yoo snorted in mock annoyance as he turned around and headed for the kitchen, gesturing with his hand for the pair to follow in his wake.

                Changhyun watched him for but a brief second, taking note of the nice clothes: a relatively new button up shirt covered with a sleeveless, woven vest and comfortable slacks that ended just above slipper covered feet.  His grandmother had similar attire on, though more feminine in nature, with jewelry to boot.  Where he was going, that was a commodity that rarely existed.

                When she finally let go of his hand to assist his grandfather, Changhyun sat on the stool and watched them bustle about, ransacking the pantry and throwing as much as they could, within reason, into a backpack for him to carry.  Nervously, he glanced at his watch to try and keep track of the time.  The last time they’d been together, he’d agreed to meet them at the city walls around nine in the morning.  It was fast approaching eight thirty and it would take him some time to get there…

                “That’s good enough,” he tried to interject when his grandparents were gently fighting over a can of food to add or not.

                They exchanged worried glances again and then turned to focus on him once more.  “We know,” Mr. Yoo confirmed with a nod, hoisting the bag onto the island in the middle of the kitchen so that it was ready to be hauled off.

                “We just want you to be prepared when you go,” Mrs. Yoo fret as she came around to run her hands over Changhyun’s arms worriedly.  “You be careful,” she chided firmly, shaking her finger at his nose like the caring old woman she was.

                “I’m not going out tomorrow,” he promised with a reassuring grin, grabbing her finger and holding her hand against his chest.  He was taller than her when he stood up but on the stool, they were of an even height.

                “Well, take care of those boys,” she amended instead.  “Heavens know what kind of trouble they’ll get into,” Mrs. Yoo rolled her eyes and took a short breath, displeased by the entire situation.  It wasn’t enough to keep him though, and his grandfather supported him, which was all Changhyun needed.

                “And make sure you take the first aid kit with you,” Mr. Yoo encouraged, reaching under the kitchen sink to pull out the pristine case.

                “Thanks,” Changhyun smiled warmly, making a mental note to disguise it as soon as possible when he left the house.  “I’m just going to get my shoes and be right back,” he waved, hopping off the stool and escaping his grandmother’s hold as gently as possible.

                On his way up the stairs, he heard her speaking low and paused to listen in.  “This is your fault you know.  You keep encouraging him to work at those dangerous poor houses,” Mrs. Yoo frowned, the expression audible in her tone.

                “It’s good for him, love.  And he’s safe enough there.  They have guards stationed all the time,” Mr. Yoo reminded her again; the argument was nothing new.

                Changhyun stifled a long suffering sigh and hurried to collect the rest of his things.  Of course he grabbed his dirtiest shoes, the ones with fraying laces and almost bursting seams.  He also took a moment to take his nice clothes off so he could slip on the ratty, more appropriate attire beneath it so that he wouldn’t stick out like a sore thumb when he got there.  His hair he could mess up at the wall and otherwise, he was as ready as he was going to be.  For just a second, he paused to look at himself in the bathroom mirror, taking a deep breath.

                “You can do this, Changhyun.  They need your support.  And everyone deserves to have a wonderful Day of Thanks.”  He his lips and scoured his hairless face, seeing only his pale, young visage looking back at him.  As he’d often been told, he looked more like his father but he had his mother’s heart apparently.  A pity neither of them could do much from their lofty towers on high…

                Gathering his resolve, he pumped both his fists in the air before him and turned around, rushing out of his room, as prepared as he was going to be.  The door was closed for but a second before he came back to shut the light off and disappeared once more, running down the steps as quickly as he could.  He pulled up short when his grandparents were standing right in his way.  His grandmother had that look on her face that said she wanted to fight him more but a firm hand from his grandfather holding her close kept her from speaking out.

                Instead, she merely closed the distance between them and grabbed him tightly in a hug.  “You’ve never spent the Day of Thanks away from us.”

                “I did when I was a baby,” Changhyun reminded her with a glance at his grandfather.

                “That doesn’t count,” she sniffed, clinging to him with all the strength her diminished form would allow.

                “Let him go dear.  He’ll be fine,” Mr. Yoo promised, coming up to place a gentle hand on her back once more, drawing her away so that he could see Changhyun eye to eye.  “Do what you need to do, young man,” he commanded sternly, his finger raised to point at his grandson.

                “I will, sir,” Changhyun grinned, accepting the backpack Mr. Yoo dragged into range.  He stepped in to give his grandfather a quick hug, closing his eyes and relishing in the quiet strength the older man provided.  “I’ll be back on the Day of Rest,” he promised, pulling away to meet both their gazes as he adjusted the bag so it settled more comfortably.

                “Off with you,” Mr. Yoo urged, gesturing towards the front door.  Changhyun nodded and moved to leave but his grandmother’s voice made him pause.

                “Changhyun.”  He stopped and looked back at the elderly woman who had her hand raised as if she could stop him.  She swallowed and took a small breath before continuing, “Tell your… friends we said Happy Day of Thanks.”

                His smile this time was genuine and amused.  “Of course, grandmother,” Changhyun bowed, waving at the pair before he turned and hurried out the front door as fast as he could.  There was no telling if either would change their mind and he intended to be as far away as possible before they did.  He pulled up short when the family driver spotted him, keys in hand and ready to go.

                “Master Changhyun,” Henry called, rushing to place himself directly in the younger man’s path.  His brown hair was mostly hidden under the driving cap and he wore the stifling tuxedo-esque suit indicative of his dying out position – only the middle class had drivers anymore.  Curbing the impulse to brush him off, Changhyun stopped to hear him out, glancing at his watch nervously.  “Mr. and Mrs. Yoo insisted I give you a ride to the city walls, sir.”

                Changhyun wrinkled his nose at the statement.  It wasn’t that he hadn’t expected it, but it was annoying and it was just one more thing that showed how different he was from the rest of those he was going to visit.  Normally, he would have said no, but he was running short on time and at least Henry was decent company.  “Fine,” he sighed, hurrying to the first rear door he could reach, waving the chauffer off so he wouldn’t try to open it for him.  “I’ve got it,” he maintained quickly.

                “Yes, sir,” Henry saluted in amusement, jogging to the driver seat so that he could slide in.  He adjusted the rear view mirror, spying Changhyun in the back with his eyes reflecting in the surface.  “The usual?”

                “Of course,” Changhyun nodded, already shucking his outer layer of clothes to reveal the tattered and dirty ones beneath.  He caught Henry’s eye as the vehicle started moving, partially stuck in and out of the over shirt, and placed a finger to his lips.  Henry grinned and winked in response, nodding acquiescence while he turned the music on.

                The familiar tunes of his carefully maintained CD issued from the speakers and he tapped along to the beat.  There were only a few radio stations in existence anymore, and their selection of music was questionable to say the least.  Not to mention that the only ones worth listening to didn’t have the signal strength to broadcast all that well so the quality was spotty at best.  All the rest were propaganda machines and commercial generators.  In short, they were annoying.

                Sitting back to enjoy the ride, Changhyun messed his hair up with both hands and watched the scenery change as they drove.  Nice, two story middle class houses painted white or some variant of it, gave way to single story houses crowded together.  The closer they got to the wall, the fewer white picket fences and maintained lawns he saw.  It was a far cry from the luxury he lived in and yet, it was infinitely better than for those beyond that demarcation line.

                His belly clenched with the usual nervous sensation as they drew closer.  Going into the ‘danger’ zone, as it were, had its risks, but he felt they were worth it.  This time especially.  his suddenly dry lips, he leaned forward to get a better look at the towering structure that set apart the poor from the not.  It was another world on their side, and every time, he had to prepare himself for it again.

~~~~~~

                “You ready?” Byunghyun asked the slender young man sitting on the corner of his bed.  He had his hands folded in his lap, back unusually straight, and his slim form was nearly swallowed by the loose, second hand clothes he wore.  But he watched the shorter man bustling about the haphazard room with barely blinking eyes, the color so dark in the dim lighting as to be almost black.

                “I’ve been ready,” Chanhee smiled slightly, reaching a slender hand behind to grab the small bag resting there.  An unnecessary shake of his head rustled the straight red locks framing his pale, almost delicate face.

                Byunghyun rolled his eyes and scrunched his nose.  Leave it to Chanhee to be ready since yesterday…  “Give me a sec,” he added, rifling through the mess on his floor while he searched for his utility tool.  One of these days, he was going to clean everything up.  One day.

                He paused when Chanhee got off the bed and wandered over to the equally messy dresser, picking up the hastily tossed shirt to pick something up.  “Is this what you’re looking for?” he asked, holding out the multi-use tool.

                Keeping his mouth shut, Byunghyun stood up and nodded while he accepted the item in question.  “Thanks,” he murmured lamely to which Chanhee simply beamed and resumed his spot on the corner of the bed.

                The shorter man placed his fists on his waist and looked around the room.  It was cluttered with all the things he deemed as potentially useful and there was a sheet covering the cracked window to keep curious onlookers away and the occasional draft out.  It didn’t help that it was small, by all rights, or that he shared it with Chanhee.  They had separate beds but the other man preferred sleeping in his, which actually wasn’t so bad in the winter.  Chanhee always said it made him feel safe.

                Roughing up his dirty – literally – blonde hair, Byunghyun nodded to himself and pulled his fingerless gloves from his pockets, struggling with the one hand since his utility tool was in it.  “Go tell dad we’re about ready to head out,” he nodded at Chanhee while he yanked a beanie off the corner post of his rickety headboard and dragged it over his hair.

                At the mere mention of going to see Mr. Lee, Chanhee stiffened noticeably, his eyes widening.  “Are you sure?” he hedged, a hint of desperation in his tone.

                At the sound, Byunghyun gave him a sidelong look and rubbed the back of his neck with an annoyed look that quickly faded with a short breath.  “I’ll go talk to him,” he waved dismissively, not missing the automatic relief in his friend’s posture.  “Would you make sure everything’s packed in my bag?  Gotta be ready for tomorrow,” he forced a grin, the breath coming just a bit quicker in his lungs.

                “Can do,” Chanhee smiled, scooching over on the bed to pull the other, considerably larger and more filled bag to him.  The zipper sang and he immediately started drawing items out to catalog what was there and his eyes scanned the room to confirm they had the necessary equipment and supplies.

                There.  That would keep him occupied for a moment.  Satisfied, Byunghyun ducked out of his room, carefully closing the door behind him.  He paused at the entryway and tugged at his worn, dark sweater and shrugged at the state of his broken in combat boots.  He’d need to find a new pair soon.  “Hey dad!” he called, moving through the short hallway, past the closed bathroom – what passed for one at any rate – door and into the living area that his father used as an office space when necessary.

                Hunched over the chipped coffee table, seated on the tearing couch, Mr. Lee grunted in response without looking up.  A pair of spectacles were perched on his crooked nose and he had a balding patch at his temples around which short, black hair crowded.  Despite that, he had a lean, wiry frame with the boon of age granted mass; he was as solid as they came, if a bit short, like Byunghyun himself.

                “We’re heading out soon,” the young man waved, shifting his weight from foot to foot, wondering what his old man would say.  If anything.

                “I know.”

                Figures.  “Just thought I’d let you know,” he tried again, scraping his teeth against his top lip.

                “Okay,” Mr. Lee mumbled, focusing on something lying on the table.  The overhead light was off, or still broken, and there was just enough light coming in from the upward slanting blinds that he could see what he was working on.

                Dammit.  He was really distracted or genuinely didn’t care.  Both were possible though the latter was less likely.  “So… any advice?” Byunghyun prodded, shrugging his shoulders as he waited.

                “Don’t die,” came the immediate reply.  The pen scratched on paper and Byunghyun found it to be a supremely irritating sound.

                “Thanks dad,” he grumbled, waving the older man off before he turned around to head back to his room.

                “Anytime, kiddo.”

                The response drew another roll of his eyes and a heavy sigh from the shorter man as he returned to where Chanhee was.  He pulled up short though when he noticed the floor was marginally cleaner than it had been just a moment ago and there was a slightly guilty expression on Chanhee’s face.

                Byunghyun raised a brow.  “You were gone a long time,” Chanhee shrugged, drawing his bag across his lap in a semi-protective measure.

                “You just can’t help yourself, can you?” he chuckled in amusement, waving for the taller man to join him at the door.

                “I finished your bag,” he offered, hauling the heavier one after him with some difficulty.

                “What’s in here?” Byunghyun groaned when he hefted it over his shoulder, feeling something dig into his back in the process.

                Chanhee shrugged.  “Everything you had before.  But!  I did find your bolt cutters and there’s an extra spool of rope in there somewhere,” he pointed at the bag.  It made Byunghyun laugh.  He had no good response for it so he simply jerked his head to the side and opened the door again, leading the way since he knew Chanhee wouldn’t.

                The walls had no pictures on them and the covering paper was peeling in many places, but the plaster beneath was relatively whole at least.  His stomach felt heavy in his gut while he walked and he could feel Chanhee’s presence close to his back, one hand lightly holding onto the pack instead of him.  They emerged from the hallway and Byunghyun waved quickly, “Bye dad.”  Chanhee didn’t say anything, edging closer to the side away from Mr. Lee, though Byunghyun thought nothing of it.

                Before they could reach the front door, his father called out.  “Byunghyun.”

                “Yeah dad?” the shorter man turned around, keeping Chanhee behind him, because that was where he felt most comfortable.

                Mr. Lee walked determinedly towards the pair, his form belying his age and any of the injuries he’d sustained in his occupation here.  Removing his glasses from his nose, he placed them on top of his head and blinked at his son, squinting so that wrinkles appeared at the corners of his eyes.  It was slightly intimidating having his father’s full focus on him and Byunghyun was glad when he spoke.  “Watch out for that one out there,” he gestured towards Chanhee.  “Don’t let anything happen to him again.”

                “I won’t,” Byunghyun nodded quickly, edging his foot back.

                “Keep an eye out for the grabbers,” he added with a significant look.  “Just because you’re my son doesn’t mean they won’t consider you fair game given half the chance.”

                “I know, dad,” he muttered irritably; it wasn’t like he exactly enjoyed being the son of one…

                Tense silence rose between them, neither looking away, and both unable to step back.  At last, his father broke the stalemate.  “Don’t you dare die in that arena tomorrow,” he ordered, shoving a hastily folded piece of paper against Byunghyun’s chest.

                He grabbed it reactively to keep himself from stepping back into Chanhee.  But as soon as he had hold of it, Mr. Lee retreated, his back stiff with pride.  Byunghyun looked down at it, unfolding the thin material to reveal a carefully marked off map: of the town.  His eyes grew wide and he blinked hard before glancing over the edge of the paper to his old man.  “Thanks dad,” he whispered and gave a half smile, folding the paper back up and nodding for Chanhee to open the door for them.

                When they stepped outside, he stuffed the map in his back pocket, where the bag would cover it, and glanced up to see the clock tower that rose up above all the dilapidated and worn down buildings showing the time: 8:45.  They had just enough time to get to the wall if they hoofed it.

                “Are we gonna make it?” Chanhee asked, fingers tangling in the fabric of Byunghun’s sleeve.

                “Of course,” he flashed a confident smile and jerked his head to get them moving.  “Gotta meet Changhyun on time now don’t we?” he chuckled, beginning to jog so that the bag bounced on his back.  His hand slid down to the knife attached to his hip, checking to make sure it was secure.

                A quiet Chanhee remained close at his side, his grip holding onto the pack instead of Byunghyun’s sleeve.  The pair hurried through the dirty, run-down streets in the early morning light that filtered in over the wall and cast the failing city in a strangely calm glow.  It was always odd how peaceful the place could look in such illumination when the depths held such desperate denizens.

                Pieces of brick and stone from the buildings littered the pathways and shuttered or boarded windows hid the residents from sight.  Here and there, a shadow in the darkened recesses of buildings flickered and Byunghyun’s grip on his knife tightened, but he didn’t stop moving down the familiar paths.  Healthy targets such as he were often avoided as too much trouble, and with Chanhee at his side, it was even more of a deterrent.  When they picked Changhyun up, they’d be safer still; fortunately the wall wasn’t that far from his father’s place – one bonus of his occupation…

                The towering structure loomed closer and both shivered as they walked into the reaches of its shadow, looking up at the height stretching nearly triple their height and topped by barbed wire, hooking inward.  It wasn’t as if no one was allowed on the other side, but the government preferred to control the flow, keeping tabs on everyone and everything.  It was aggravating.

                Pulling up short and slightly winded in the chilly air – they could see their breath in the shade – Byunghyun and Chanhee peered through the always guarded opening towards the other side: two armed guards were stationed within and without to monitor anyone approaching from either side.  A glance back at the high clock tower showed they were right on time.  “Looks like we just gotta wait now,” the shorter of the two shrugged, rolling his shoulders and casting Chanhee a cocky grin.

                “Not long though,” Chanhee added with a quick nod.  “Changhyun is rarely late.”  He gestured towards the gate where he saw a mostly clean, black car stop, the driver somewhat familiar from previous trips.  “I think that’s him now.”

                Byunghyun turned to see for himself and snorted in agreement when he saw Changhyun emerge from the rear passenger door, energetically waving at his chauffer.  “Lucky bastard,” he murmured to himself, voicing the familiar refrain of all those who lived within the poor zone.

                Chanhee refrained from speaking and shrugged, shuffling closer to Byunghyun as they waited, his head on a constant, continuous scanning motion to make sure they were still in the clear.

                “Looks like he’s loaded this time,” Byunghyun smiled, reaching back to pat Chanhee’s shoulder with a gloved hand.  “Daniel will be happy to see him for sure.”

                “And you aren’t?” Chanhee prodded with an amused note in his voice.

                “He’s alright,” Byunghyun conceded with a sidelong look at his companion.  “For a goody-goody anyway,” he winked, turning his attention back to the young man finally making his way through the guarded entrance.

                “Byunghyun!  Chanhee!” Changhyun beamed, hooking his fingers around the straps of his pack like an excited school kid as he ran up to them, oblivious to most of the potential dangers of this place.

                “Good morning, Changhyun,” Chanhee waved with a warm smile, bowing slightly towards the shorter man.

                “Your has arrived!” Byunghyun gestured theatrically as he pointed back towards the heart of their domain.

                “Thanks for meeting me,” Changhyun spoke, stopping short before he ran into them.  In comparison, though he wore altered clothes to try and fit in better, his face and physique set them apart, indicating good food and better health, which was more than most could claim in the poor zone.

                It was a fact that Byunghyun still held a little bitterness towards but he’d mostly reconciled such concerns.  Mostly.  “Come on then,” he jerked his head and waved at the two to start moving.  “Jonghyun and Daniel will start to get worried if we take too long,” he chuckled wryly, setting the pace for them to follow.

                “Coming!” Changhyun chirped while he fell into step beside Chanhee who began talking with him animatedly in a quiet tone.

                At the front, Byunghyun listened with a keen ear, catching snippets of conversation, but his focus was outward.  Despite the fact that many people living here were sickly and often died on the streets, bodies were never left alone long and when pickings were slim, grabbers had been known to target live bodies too…  He just needed to get them to Minsoo and Jonghyun’s place in one piece.  It wouldn’t do to have something happen before tomorrow anyway.