I know that someone is after me, I know that their only aim is for my head. I do not fear my undoing, I do not fear the reticle I know is placed on my forehead everyday; I fear the unknown person behind my undoing. Know your enemies, know your battle. And yet, I no longer know my enemies and have therefore lost the battle before it has truly come to an end. I am the lost leader, grasping out to comrades and soldiers alike who have long forgot the saying of 'no man left behind' as I lay on my belly like the lowliest of creatures. There is no hope for me, the only hope for us all is that perhaps I will die a little faster so that the war may continue with a new leader.

But alas, I am not ready to die. I have not yet seen the face of my killer and shall be damned if I die without spitting in the face of my enemy. I will have his head in the end.  

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It was a learning moment for Yixing as he sat in his chair, staring down two men with such intent one could only assume that he was plotting their demise. 'Never run an operation with family, lesson learned.' He thought rather bitterly, his lips twisting into a sour grimace as he stood to walk slowly around his desk.

"Please tell me again, who this is?" Yixing spoke quietly and slowly, as if demanding his brother to correct what has been previously spoken. Though, it was incorrect to call him his brother, he was actually his cousin. They grew up together, raised so close with one another that they simply began associating each other as siblings; they knew each other far too well. Yixing also knew he would not back down easily. Even now, neither one of the men seemed to back down, their heads held high and their jaws set. His brother, while he was a pain in the , he would cut a little slack as nobody could help that grinning dimwit. But the new soldier that stood before him with a seemingly smug appearance could be given no leniency for his behavior. Who was he to barge into his home, and take charge?  

"Your new bodyguard." His brother, cheeky and smug as usual, declared. The profile for the unknown man sat behind Yixing on his desk as he continued to make his way to stand before the two men. Crossing his arms, he leaned back on the desk, a comfortable yet authoritative position. He took that moment of movement to assess the brave boy in front of him. They appeared to stand level in height, though, perhaps the other was just taller than Yixing; which did not sit well with him. Despite his height, Yixing chose to stop calling him a man, more referring to him as a boy given his delicate features and rather skinny build.  

"He's scrawny and rather childish looking, I'm sure a puppy could take better care of me than this-," He paused, his sour grimace returning once more as he gestured to the boy, "Creature." He had no desire to let this boy come in and call the shots, to tell him, the leader of a powerful crime syndicate, how his life should be run.  

"In all respect, boss, I'm very well trained and am quite qualified. If you'd take time to read my pro-", Yixing's body acted before his mind, launching himself off the desk as he took hold of the boy's face in one hand and his throat in the other. His head felt dizzy and his body felt light with adrenaline, he wasn't thinking straight as just a few words had set him off.  

"If you respected me at all boy, you would have kept your mouth shut. I call the shots around here, I decide who gets made and who gets hit.” He essentially threw the boy back and took a breath as he straightened his suit, though loosening his tie with grinding teeth. His eyes moved now instead to his brother, who’s cheeky smile immediately dropped at the desolate state his existence was about to become.

“Now, before you yell at me, this has already been discussed.” His hands went up into a defensive position, as if he could somehow physically push away the stare Yixing gave to him. But all he did was to further throw tension into the situation, Yixing immediately choosing to hone in on that supposed ‘discussion’.

“Already been discussed? With whom?” Yixing barked, looking the man up and down in a sizing manner, his arms crossed once more; though he towered over the man with straightened shoulders now. He was the boss here.

“Father and Mr. Park, they not only approved your having a body guard in light of the recent attempts on your life, but they highly recommended him.” That was the end of that, there was no fighting against the consultant of the family and their father. He knew that he had essentially been met with defeat, and yet, he couldn’t help but to grind his teeth in anger. ‘How dare they go behind my back, I am the boss, I call the shots; and yet they sneak around behind me? This will not be so easily forgiven.’ He made note of the thought, almost as if he were swearing it as an oath.

“Fine.” He snapped, his arms uncrossing as he made his way around the desk; he sat in his chair and attempted to fix what remained of his composure. “Where will this creature be staying then? One would hope not here?” He asked, opening the folder that contained his new ‘bodyguard's’ profile. Inside resided a picture of him, his hair rather unprofessional looking; it wasn’t a good impression. Naturally black, short, and well kept on the bottom; swept over top was layered and dyed blonde hair. He wore the same black shirt in the picture as he did now, glancing up for just a moment to realize it was a black silk button up with no blazer or tie; it was the only thing remotely professional about him. But his image was still better suited for a teenage pop star, not the bodyguard of a mafia boss.

“He’ll be staying in the guest bedroom.” Yixing’s brother declared, only earning a sigh from him, his eyes never leaving the profile of the boy before him. His name was Kim Jongin and he was three years younger than Yixing, a simple and low key profile; but his appearance kept stealing his attention. It was hard to focus on his credentials when his blindingly blonde hair and chiseled features kept stealing the show. Bodyguards are meant to blend in with the background, they are meant to be felt through presences, but never seen. There would be no hiding for this boy.

“And why would I allow that? I turned this whole upper floor into my apartment so I would not have to share my space.” It was true, Yixing’s overly large apartment had been created that way at his request. He had bought the entire apartment complex, turning them into his headquarters and a form of extra income. But more importantly the building he lived in was only for his soldiers and family, the top floor renovated to be his apartment entirely. The only entrance in was through the elevator that now acted as his door, only a special key would take the elevator to that level. He already felt safe enough, why add a stranger to his home?

“He is your personal bodyguard, it seems only fitting he would need to be close by.” The reply was annoying though their presence was worse. This was his space and the situation bothered him, he did not need the protection despite the threats on his life. He could handle himself just fine.

His eyes drifted finally past the boy’s face, irritated with himself that he could not seem to concentrate on the words; he was captivated by his face. It was even more irritating when Yixing finally found his qualifications, fully impressing and exceeding his expectations. He freelanced both as a bodyguard and a hitman, making a suspicious but undoubtedly powerful combination. He trained and acted in some of the most powerful underground Mafia’s in America and China; hitting close to Yixing. He almost seemed too good to act as his bodyguard, Yixing finally looking up with an intense suspicion.

“How do we know he isn’t a rat?” He asked, his eyes narrowed as his hand casually propped his chin up; he didn’t trust either of the men in front of him at the moment. His brother had brought this boy in after a secret meeting with his father and consultant, obviously his trust in that man would falter. But this boy? He was too qualified and his arrival too sudden, especially in light of everything that’s been happening.

“You will just have to have faith in father and Mr. Park.” His brother replied, the cheeky expression from earlier having been replaced by a serious and cold one; though their was a glint of something else in his eyes. Yixing could only assume it was amusement, he knew his brother too well.

“You’re dismissed.” Yixing waved him away, his eyes drifting back down to the profile of the supposed Kim Jongin. Though his eyes no longer bore into the man, his attention was still focused on him, able to catch him bowing and leaving for the elevator. Waiting until he heard the slam of the mechanical doors, his head snapped up to look at his new bodyguard. “Your name is Kim Jongin?” He asked, his fingers having found a pen to twirl and flip between his fingers as he leaned back in his chair.

“Yes, sir.” He already knew the answer to the question, his eyes simply just wishing to watch Jongin; wanting to see his every movement and word. His somewhat thicker lips were relaxed and calm, yet the corners pinched in a serious expression. His eyes were cold, something Yixing would expect from the assassin he had been trained to be. Someone so young had enough kills under his belt to almost challenge Yixing’s; he was surprised to feel threatened.

“I expect you to make your stay here worthwhile, for myself.” Yixing stood, his shoulders stiff as he sauntered past Jongin, making his way through the living room. Jongin followed, Yixing unsure if he enjoyed his bodyguard doing so without being told, or if he should guard his back. Reassured by the gun he always kept clearly displayed tucked behind the waistband of his pants, he chose instead of turning to face the man, he would dare him to do something as his back remained turned.

“How do you propose I do that, sir?” Jongin asked, his voice stable and respectful, yet the question itself felt challenging. Yixing just swallowed and kept working his way through the living room, his eyes clearly locked on target. His destination was a elegant cabinet and table set up closer to the kitchen, filled with glistening and bold bottles all varying in colors; they were all predominantly dark.

Yixing was a bit of an alcoholic, even he could admit it, though many said it was because he simply could afford to be such a person. That was a wrong assumption, though it was true that he could afford to spend such copious amounts of money on drinks. His reasons for drinking was to block out all of their screams, all of their pleas for life. His past echoed with the regret of jobs and requests demanded that he complete, many things he did in the name of his father and the family. He will forever regret and be haunted by these lives stolen, he will always remember their names and their faces. But he wouldn’t take it back if he could, there was too much at stake.

His vast alcohol collection ranged from cheap soju to The Dalmore and Diva Vodka; needless to say it was worth millions. Today, he chose to crack open another cheap bottle of soju, feeling as though he required the higher levels of alcohol and lesser sophistication to get through this day. It was only ten in the morning, but this was by far not the earliest he had started drinking before.

“One, stay out of my way.” His answer was a little hoarse for a moment as the first shot of soju burned its way down his throat; it was pleasant to feel that burn, he had already begun to miss it. “Two,” he paused to pour himself another shot, though he was already craving whisky, “I expect you to take care of all your belongings. I do not want to see a single one of your things mixed in with mine.” He barked, quick to down the second shot, his eyes scanning the dark bottles around him.

“Anything else?” Jongin asked, his voice rough as if he were holding something back, though Yixing couldn’t be sure what it was. He sighed, choosing to let the bottle of soju go to waste and opened a bottle of The Macallan, a forty year old scotch whisky. Pulling the appropriate crystal glass out from one of the cabinets, the only sound he registered was the glass tapping against the smooth hard wood surface as he gently set it down. Pouring the robust liquor worth a little over ten grand, he ignored the sound of his money destroying his liver; already taking a small swig before he had even set the bottle down. His tongue was met with the smooth and sweet tastes of toffee and a earthy peat smoke; it was glorious.

“Yeah, take care of the apartment while you’re at it.” He made a gesture to the large apartment filled with extravagance and high ceilings as he gently swirled the whiskey in his glass. The living room was on a slightly lower level than the rest of the apartment, a white rug laying underneath the various black couches and hardwood coffee tables. The rest of the apartment almost seemed irrelevant to Yixing, his dining room just outside of the kitchen doors was almost never used, his balcony was almost a figment of his imagination, and the various guest bedroom doors had never been opened. He could only imagine what was in those spare bedrooms, what decor had been chosen for him, that he had never and most likely never would see. He only ever lived at his desk, the living room, or his bedroom, turning his large enclosure into a small cage for himself.

“In all due respect, I am your bodyguard, not your butler.” The blonde almost spat. That was bold.

“Two birds, one stone.” ‘I will not lose my temper so easily again.’ The thought was easy, but for a somewhat deranged reason, he found this boy to be slightly amusing.

“You may wish to hire a butler then.” Even that earned a small smirk behind his glass, tilting it to his lips once more for another taste of the sweet toffee flavors.

“Are you saying you refuse to do it?” Yixing lowered his glass from his lips, his eyebrow twitching up in an questioning motion; it was interesting that the boy was choosing to already push his luck. Yixing still did not trust the man, his suspicions high even through the quickly rising levels of intoxication, but he found Jongin to be interesting. He knew so little about him and the same followed for Jongin about him, a shared suspicion, but they had both simultaneously started a rather sarcastic and sassy relationship.

“I’m saying I will not do a good job, my specialties do not lie in household chores.” Jongin’s eyebrow was raised just the same as Yixing’s, his hands clasped behind his back with his shoulder straight. It was not defiant, but it did remind Yixing of any and every butler in any movie he had ever seen.

“You already have the sass and the posture of a butler, you’re halfway there. Just put on the monkey suit and pick up a duster and you’re all set.” He chuckled, raising the somewhat cold glass to his lips yet again, his eyes level with the mysterious person in front of him. They both had fallen silent, playing this game of simply staring at one another; but it was time to come to an end.

“Look, I don’t really need you here. So while we are in the apartment, you will stay in your room and your room alone. I do not want to see, hear, or even feel your presence.” Yixing said quickly, turning slightly to set his drink down and beginning his travels through the apartment once more. He made it a deliberate show of going to the door farthest from his room and opening the door that had never been opened before; the smell of the guest room was still new and well kept. Yixing slowly was beginning to wonder who cleaned this place, he never saw any maids and surely did not do the cleaning himself.

Surprisingly enough, that brought about a feeling of loneliness, a slight sigh slipping between his lips before he could stop it. He had never really been this lonely before, having always thought he enjoyed the silence and solitude. But the thought of locking away another human being that was forced to spend their every waking moments with him was something Yixing couldn’t even realize, he was unsure as to what his feelings all meant.

“What about food?” Jongin asked with raised eyebrows, a glitter in his eyes that Yixing recognized easily; it was the same cheeky glitter his brother often expressed.

“Starve for all I care.”  Yixing replied, slamming the door once the boy entered; though it would be a lie to say he didn’t care. He cared about every person to enter his life, often feeling sadness for any eyes he meets; he couldn’t help but wonder if they would be the next to die. He would not let Jongin stave, but he would not so easily tolerate an unwanted presence in his home; especially one that brought him so many mixed feelings.

“If you hearing gnawing in the middle of the night then, it’s not my fault. This room might not be so nice anymore.” The sing song voice of his bodyguard was almost teasing as it came muffled through the door, Yixing’s lips twitching into a half smile before he was able to stop it. He would allow the boy a little fun, he would allow him to joke. It might be nice to have a little of that around.

“I better not find teeth marks anywhere.” Yixing barked, his voice loud and deep, though in no way angry.

“No promises. You sure you can’t slip a sandwich under the door or something? I’m already hungry.” Yixing couldn’t tell if it was his intoxicated ears playing tricks on him, or if the boy was already too comfortable around him. They had just met and while Yixing would allow some fun, perhaps this might be too far for day one.

“I don’t cook.” It wasn’t a lie, Yixing was the worst cook to have ever existed; only he was capable of burning water.

“I do.” He did have to admit he himself was feeling a tad peckish, leaning against the door with contemplation. His lips were already twisting into a combination of a smile and thought.

“But that is a butler duty, I thought you weren’t qualified?” Yixing made air quotes around the word “qualified” despite Jongin being unable to see it.

“I’ll do this one thing, so long as it means I get to eat.” Yixing tilted his head and pushed himself off of the door, opening it to see Jongin casually leaning against the frame on the other side; he was delicately picking at his fingernails as if he were some form of diva. ‘Oh my’

“Fine, it’s a deal. You cook, you guard, you stay in here. Nothing more, nothing less.” Yixing rose his chin in an authoritative way, though it was a little pointless as Jongin stood but a few inches over him.

“Can do, boss.” The wink was a little too much, but Yixing let it slide.

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Ah, the perks of being vague, gotta love it a the beginnings of a story. I hope that you all at least sort of enjoyed the chapter and I am already halfway done with the next Taohun chapter. That little girl is so much fun to write about. And Yixing and Jongin are going to be fun too. Though, I may edit this chapter a tad bit. I’m not sure I’m content with it, and I am super tired. Hmm.

Either way! Thank you for reading and as always, feel free to comment, critique, or let me know about any errors! English is hard, haha.

~SnobbyCoffeeAsian