There is a dramatic device called pathetic fallacy used by directors and writers, where the weather is manipulated to create an atmosphere suitable for what is happening, or going to happen. For example, if someone was about to die, there would likely be a thunderstorm going on outside.

*

Donghae had always liked the rain. Ever since he was little, he’d laugh and splash around in puddles while everyone else ran for cover. The thing he liked best was watching small grey drops from the inside of a car window have a race with each other to see who could reach the bottom the fastest. Any disappointment that he might have gotten after the rain stopped would always be snuffed by a lungful of clean air—a smell that only appears after the earth is washed by his favourite weather.

The brunette stood in front of the motel doors, gazing at thunderclouds in the distance. There it was—that feeling again—as if something big was about to happen but he had absolutely no control over it.

He only knew, it was going to rain soon.

His hands tightened on the large rectangular object he was holding, wrapped securely in newspaper. Soon, a cab stopped in front of him, and Donghae stepped into the backseat with the item, his hand never once letting go.

*

The hall was quiet when the first pitter-patter hit the rooftop, as if someone from above could not bear the silence anymore and decided to turn on some background music. No matter what was happening inside right now, no-one could deny that the sound was in fact soothing and calming, however little effect it was able to have.

At the front of the room, to the right of the wooden structure seated with an elder in a typical white wig, a man stood with his head hanging low, his hair looking soft and silky despite being in prison for the past day. His eyes were downcast, so much that others began to wonder if they were closed or not. But little did they know, it didn't matter if he could see in front of him. The person he wanted to see was not here, so what use did sight have for him?

He wanted to lift his head and scan the room again, telling himself that he must have missed a seat, a corner, and the other was actually present, being here for him to comfort the older man with his presence before the final judgment of his 'crime' was received.

But he wasn't.

No one was ever here for Hyukjae, so why should Donghae be any different?

The rain poured harder.

*

Donghae was lucky. By the time the rain had started, he was only a step away from the safety of the corridor, and so the article in his hands did not get in danger of being wet. If it did get damaged, he honestly didn't know what he would do. It would be a really, really sick joke.

Holding the painting delicately yet firmly, Donghae opened a rusted metal door handle with the other hand, peering left and right to get a good look at his unfamiliar surroundings. The building had been sealed off by the police a week ago when they were in the middle of their investigations, but now that any possibly useful evidence had been collected and the area scanned for weapons and substances, the abandoned department store was left almost the same as when it had been found. Almost.

Donghae glanced once at the center of the wide ground floor at where the... body had been. He tore his eyes away, not wanting to recall any more memories, and instead began searching for any signs of the person he was supposed to meet here.

"You're here already?"

The artist immediately looked towards the direction where the sound came from, watching a blonde man with an indescribable look on his face walk out from behind a wall.

*

As Hyukjae sat there by himself, alone, he suddenly breathed a soft smile, making the few people watching him narrow their eyes in suspicion. They guessed that he might have some connections with the judge, who was currently in another room about to make the final decision as to what Hyukjae would be obliged to do as punishment. But if that was the case, then why did he plead guilty in the first place when the evidence was clearly not that sufficient?

Even though most of the whispering crowd had glanced at Hyukjae and seen the lingering smile on his lips, not one of them knew the real reason behind it.

Hyukjae had been feeling lost, but now he felt safe again.

He had feared that Donghae would interrupt his life, but all that the artist did was place a small crime on his head.

He had feared that Donghae would introduce him to a new world different from the heartless one he knew of, but the brunette made it clear that Hyukjae was just a tool to him, nothing more.

He had feared that Donghae would evoke in him those foreign, (familiar), frightening feelings, but all that the man left him with were an empty seat and an empty set of promises.

Hyukjae had felt lost because he didn't know what changes meeting Donghae would bring. Now that the younger left from his life, he was reassured because he wouldn't be in such danger ever again.

*

The two men stood in silence at first, the tension between them building even though no words had been spoken yet. Finally, Donghae broke it.

"Where's Eri?" His voice wavered, and whatever attempts he had made to hide his nervousness failed.

The blonde gave no reaction. Donghae noticed, quite unwillingly, that he was actually very handsome. No... that was not the right word. The man standing opposite him had the looks of an angel, but something about him made Donghae deem that there was a devil underneath those angelic features.

"Is she worth it?" Leeteuk spoke softly at last. There seemed to be genuine curiosity in his eyes.

"Of course." Donghae frowned. "I would put my friend's life before anything else, let alone mere possessions like money."

Leeteuk's eyes crinkled at the same time his lips rose into a curt laugh, dimples appearing on either side of his mouth.

It made a chill go up Donghae’s back.

"'Friend'? Is she just a 'friend' to you? Someone will be heartbroken to hear that." As the last words left his lips, rushed footsteps accompanied by several ‘let me go’s lead Donghae's eyes towards the girl running towards him, purple hair flying behind her figure.

It was Eri. She was unharmed. Donghae's heart felt like it finally settled down in his chest once again.

However, his eyebrows furrowed at the anxious, almost guilty look on her face, and the sound of another pair of footsteps falling not far behind her, loud and clear despite the ongoing rain.

*

If he was being honest, Hyukjae admitted that he had indeed imagined what it would be like one day, when he was caught and about to be sent to prison. He had done many crimes—too many, as some might say—and even though he had never gotten blood on his hands (figuratively), Hyukjae had once felt that maybe people like him belonged behind cold bars for what they had done to others.

So that being said, it amused Hyukjae slightly how the reason he was finally being punished today was actually invalid. For something which he didn’t do, Hyukjae was about to receive (probably deserved) judgment and imprisonment. Life does have it’s own sense of humour, doesn’t it?

By the looks on the judge’s face as he entered the room, everyone knew that a decision had been made and no further hearings will take place. Most of them were certain that with a case like this, that despicable murderer sitting up there would definitely get a life sentence, if not more. But the small minority remembered Hyukjae’s unexplainable smile and betted against no one in particular that something unexpected would happen.

And just as they had predicted, something did happen, although it was not exactly what they had imagined.

The judge had managed to successfully finish what he thought was really just a long and pointless speech he was obliged to give. He had been through enough court cases to know when someone was listening or not, and the thin figure standing to his left was definitely not paying attention. As he moved onto the final order, the paragraph that would determine the fate of said person, a small commotion at the far end of the hall diverted his attention for a second before he took another breath and continued.

“…for the murder of Lee Donghwa, the defendant is sentenced to life imprisonment. There is no minimum term required and he is eligible to apply for parole or bail at any time. The decision had been made….”

He continued to finish reading the statement, but the judge noticed something about the previously reactionless defendant. His form no longer slumped down uncaringly, his eyes to the ground. Instead, it was as if he was about to jump over the barricade in front of him in order to get to where his eyes were now intently fixated on.

The judge followed his gaze, which lead him towards the large double doors. He remembered the interruption that had occurred before, and realised that this man in front of him, with his arms locked on either side by two security guards, must have caused it.

But why did the man look like he was on the verge of tears? Why was the anguish in his helpless form so obvious, even from a distance away?

*

Donghae didn’t want to believe his eyes no matter how clear the situation was. The painting in his hands had been taken away the moment that Eri was allowed to run towards him, but he didn’t care. She was shaking like crazy, tears and apologies pouring out of her, but he couldn’t hear anything she was saying. He only stared at the man in front of him. The man whom he had personally confirmed to be dead.

“I’m sorry Donghae… I’m s-so sorry….. I tried to reach you but they wouldn’t let me…... Hwa didn’t let me."

"Donghae." The supposed-to-be-dead man voiced. He looked a little sheepish, but other than that, there was no indication that he was aware of his inexplicable existence. 

"...How?" Donghae frowned. "I saw you... with my own eyes.... How?"

Donghwa stepped closer, stiffening when his younger brother took a step back out of instinct. "What you saw was just my bracelet, Donghae. The body... It wasn't mine."

By this time, the artist had calmed down enough to think with his brain again. He realized that it didn't matter so much how his brother was still alive, rather, the more important thing was... "Why?"

Donghwa finally showed some signs of distress. He looked around—Leeteuk was standing to the side watching them with interest, Eri was still sobbing next to Donghae's arm, and so he took a deep breath to support himself.

"I'm sorry for doing this, Donghae, but if you will just listen to me, I promise that you'll see how it was for the best." He began.

Donghae's frown deepened, detecting the underlying guilt in his brother's voice. Nevertheless, he nodded slightly.

"Donghae, I know that all these years, you didn't want to end up doing these deals with us. But you understand that it makes the most of your skills, and puts food on the table." Donghwa's eyes tilted down, much like his brother's ones did.

"In fact, working in this market means that we're getting more than the average income. No matter where it came from, money is a good thing. It buys your supplies, and allows us to move around." The older man hesitated. "The thing is, we can't go on like this for too long. This time... I wasn't actually in that much danger. But what if next time, I was? I'm not blaming you for not finishing the painting on time, but we must admit that doing business like this is too risky. We just want a peaceful and safe life, right?"

Donghae nodded. All he ever wanted to do was open an art store in a cozy neighborhood, sell his paintings, and maybe teach art to children at a primary school. Though he had thought that that life was out of his reach already.

"Donghae, you know that I love you and care for you. I would do all I can to help you start that art shop you want to open, and maybe even buy an apartment where we can settle. But we can't do it yet. And you know why. Money. We just don't have enough right now."

Donghwa straightened his back, his voice becoming firmer.

"But after today, that life is not far from us. Do you know what made it possible for me to get captured or even killed, Donghae?" He asked.

The brunette shook his head. "What?"

"Identity.” The word fell from his lips like a bad taste. “People can contact me, track me, blackmail me, and harm me because I have an identity that allows them to do so. Do you see now? After I 'die', I can do these deals with so much more safety. We can do more business, even more dangerous ones, so the day we reach our dreams is not far away at all!" He exclaimed, his features filled with excitement.

It was true, but all Donghae wanted to do was throw up.

"...Who was it?" He said at last.

"Who was what?" Donghwa was caught off-guard.

"The body... whose was it?" Donghae remembered how he'd clutched the lifeless figure in his arms, unwilling to let go, crying for so long he forgot the time. Nobody could convince him to get up, and it wasn't until Siwon came to him, telling him that he still had things to do, he still had to save Eri, that Donghae finally wiped his swollen eyes and let go of the body.

He suppressed a gag.

"That was... I don't know. He was already dead though. They brought him in out of nowhere and I put my bracelet on his wrist..."

Donghwa trailed off in guilt and pity for what he had done to Donghae, seeing the hurt in his brother’s eyes. When he realised that there was also an unasked question in there, he quickly started to explain.

"These people agreed to help me because I reminded them that this way, they would get the goods they wanted sooner. I don't know where they got the body from, but it's none of our business." As if remembering something, he looked towards Eri, his face softening. "The only thing I regret is dragging Eri into this. She wouldn't agree to the plan, no matter how much I explained to her, so they..." Donghwa pressed his lips together tightly. "So they made her record that piece of audio by doing everything real. Those weren't fake screams you heard, Donghae."

The artist had not realized when he had put an arm around the shivering girl. At this information, he pulled her even closer. Monsters. He thought. That's what they are. What they all are.

He couldn't help a fleeting glare towards Leeteuk, anger boiling in the depth of his stomach.

Suddenly, Donghae remembered why he came today one day earlier than the original deadline. It was because his trial date was today. If he went now, he wondered, would it be too late?

The brunette turned around without hesitation and began for the exit. He ignored Eri's attempts to grab his arm once again, and the confused calls from his brother. The only thing that made him halt was a simple 'wait' from the man who had been silent for a long time.

"What." Donghae squeezed out from gritted teeth. He wasn't stupid enough to disobey this man, especially now that he knew what the blonde was capable of. He didn't want to be the next dead substitute body.

Leeteuk took his time walking towards Donghae. His unchanging smile was plastered on his face, but there was something else in his eyes. A bit of hope.

"I just wanted to tell you, you did a good job with the painting. In the future, if you need me for anything—money, connections, information...... or money," his smile deepened, "you know where to find me." He gave him one last, deep look, and then turned to leave.

Donghae started running before the door even clicked shut behind him.

He needed to get there before.... before what? What could he possibly change even if he were there? Tell them that no, Hyukjae wasn't the murderer, my brother actually faked his own death and is alive right now? Tell them (that was another thing—who would listen to him?) that the body belonged to someone else, and the murderer of that body was likely the blonde man with dimples in his cheeks?

His feet slowed as his breath sped up. He leaned against a lamppost to regain his breath, then started the marathon again.

Whatever he could or couldn't say, he had to be there for Hyukjae. It was the least he could do, for having done him so much wrong.

*

*

*

Donghae was let go after a warning for the ‘interruption of a legal case’.

He stumbled along the footpath of a random road, letting the cold colourless tiles take him wherever they wanted to go. The words 'life' and 'imprisonment' circled around and around in his head, stirring up a tornado until he let himself collapse onto a nearby bench, shutting his eyes tightly.

He had to do something.

Donghae would never forgive himself if he was the cause of harm to that innocent man. That man who had been so considerate, agreeing to help him, even checking up on him, and at last pleaded guilty, which was probably so Donghae wouldn't need to worry about Eri's safety anymore. He was such a sweet person, yet what did Donghae do? All he had brought into the other's life was stress and imprisonment. He could not allow himself to let Hyukjae stay even a second more in prison.

Although his ears had been buzzing and his hearing had felt temporarily lost, Donghae heard and remembered what the judge had said. 

"There is no minimum term required."

"He is eligible to apply for parole or bail at any time."

Donghae knew he had to bail him out. But for a murder case, it was obvious that he wouldn't have enough money. Hyukjae would probably have spent half his life in prison by the time Donghae managed to save up the amount required.

Now if only there was some way he could get lots of money quickly…

His eyes snapped open.

"...you know where to find me."

*