3 years later

He sank down onto a bench, exhausted, and buried his face in his hands. What on earth was he doing with his life? In essence, he was spending all his time stalking his ex. He hadn’t even reported to work in two days and he wouldn’t blame the force for firing him, because for a while now, he’d been the world’s lousiest cop.

He’d been beating himself up over the last three years because he’d thought that he’d caused her death, but now that he knew she was alive, and she was happy, maybe it was time he shaped up and moved on too.

He was slowly starting to feel drowsy when he felt something bump lightly against his foot. He looked down and saw that someone’s soccer ball had rolled over and was now in front of him. He picked it up and looked up to search for its owner, expecting to see one of the teenagers he’d spotted playing soccer earlier. When he saw its owner approaching him, however, his eyes widened in panic.

The lanky boy’s wide-eyed look mirrored his, and his steps faltered before he reached Yongguk.

“Y-Y-Yongguk hyung?” he stuttered, blinking furiously.

Yongguk felt himself freeze up for a good ten seconds before he found his voice again.

“Annyeong… Junhong ah.”

Junhong stood frozen for a moment, staring at Yongguk like a deer caught in headlights. He his lips nervously as he turned his head to look back in the distance, where the rest of his friends were, as if contemplating if he should run back to them screaming about his discovery. Realizing what he must have been thinking, Yongguk stood up quickly and held out his hands to stop the boy. “No, Junhong, don’t… Don’t tell anyone you saw me.”

Junhong stared at him, flicking his eyes back towards his friends again, perplexed. “I… uh… I…”

Yongguk bent down to pick up the ball, handing it back to Junhong. “Please. I don’t want to stir up unpleasant memories.”

Junhong took the ball from him, still seemingly in a state of shock. “Yongguk hyung, I... you…”

“Choi Junhong! What are you doing?”

Both men turned their heads when someone shouted. Yongguk hastily pushed his cap further down his head, trying his best to obscure his face. “You should go.” He took a card out of his pocket and pressed it into Junhong’s hand. “Here’s my number. You can contact me if you want to, you know… talk or something.” He nudged Junhong lightly, urging him to return to his friends. “Go.”

In a flash, Yongguk slipped away. Junhong stared at the card in his hand, taking in the gold crest and blue header that read ‘Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency’. It made him feel strange, and he shoved it into the pocket of his shorts before jogging back to his friends with the ball in hand.

“Who were you talking to?” Youngjae asked when he returned.

“Nobody,” Junhong said quickly, before he realized that his answer sounded really suspicious. He casually added, “Just a bum asking for some change.”

Youngjae looked convinced. “Try not to talk too much to strangers. Remember, we don’t want to draw any attention to ourselves.”

Junhong nodded, and the soccer game continued. He couldn’t get his head back in the game fully, though. He couldn’t get the image of Yongguk out of his head. He looked so much older, and although he recognized him, he didn’t really feel like the same person. It was weird. Junhong was curious about how Yongguk had been doing the past three years, and he really wanted to talk to him, but he knew that if the other hyungs found out, they’d be angry for sure.

“Junhong, ball!”

He was so consumed by his thoughts that he barely paid attention to the ball until he heard the shout. However, he came to his senses a little too late and the ball hit him smack in the middle of his face. He stumbled back, groaning as his hands flew up to clutch his nose.

Jongup was beside him in a flash. “Oops! I’m sorry!” He surveyed Junhong’s face to make sure not too much damage was done. “Are you okay?” The maknae nodded, and Jongup turned curious. “Why were you zoning out instead of paying attention during the game?” He looked in the direction that Junhong had been staring blankly at. “What were you looking at? Did you see a ghost or something?”

“A ghost? In broad daylight?” Junhong laughed it off. “I don’t know why, I just spaced out for a moment. Sorry.”

As Jongup laughed and jogged away to continue the game, it occurred to Junhong that those silly words perfectly described what he felt.

Maybe he’d really seen a ghost.

Kim Himchan pulled the blanket over his young son’s sleeping form before he stood upright, smiling. Howon looked adorable, curled up on his side with his mouth slightly open as he snoozed. He never imagined he’d be so happy just watching a little boy sleep. He loved Howon so much it almost didn’t matter that he wasn’t his biological son.

He quietly exited the room, closing the door only halfway so that he could hear the toddler when he woke up. He stretched as he walked towards the kitchen, feeling all the muscles in his neck and shoulders unwind. Howon was getting bigger, and carrying him around was starting to get harder. He’d always thought that he was fairly fit, but fatherhood was really kicking his . He saw his wife sitting at the kitchen island, facing away from him. She didn’t hear him entering the kitchen, so he walked around so that he was in front of her. Even then, it took a while before she noticed him. She was just sitting there, in a daze, a cup of tea untouched in front of her.

“Hey,” he said gently, waving a hand in front of her. “Earth to Nara.”

She blinked a few times, finally noticing him. “Oh. Hey.” She straightened up, looking around as if she were trying to regain her bearings. She looked down, and then back up at Himchan again. “I made tea. You want some?”

He shook his head, taking a seat across from her. “Nah, I’m good.” He didn’t say anything for a while, and just stared at her. She held his gaze for a few seconds, then broke it guiltily and looked down, sipping her tea. It wasn’t hard to guess what she was bothered by. “Are you thinking about what those ladies said earlier?”

Nara briefly considered denying it, but she knew Himchan would easily see through her lie. She sighed. “Kinda.”

“They don’t know what they’re talking about,” Himchan reminded her. “They don’t know anything about us, and their opinions don’t matter. Why are you letting their words get to you?”

Nara gave him a sorrowful look. “They were right though. Howon looks nothing like you. Those women’s comments may not matter, but one day, he’s going to realize it himself. And what will we do, then?”

Himchan bit his lower lip as he thought of an answer. “When he’s old enough, we’ll tell him the truth. Just because I’m not his biological father doesn’t mean that I’m not going to be his appa, you know?”

“It’s not just that,” Nara argued. “Other people are going to talk. Kids in his school will make fun of him. Neighbors will start whispering his back—behind our backs—and saying all kinds of horrible things about me, and…”

Himchan reached across the counter and took one of Nara’s hands in his. “Nara, you can’t worry about all these little things in advance and stress out about them. You’re over-thinking things. They may or may not happen, but we’ll worry about them when they do, okay? I just need you to realize that others’ opinions don’t matter. We’re all safe, and happy, and Youngjae and Jongup are back. Isn’t that good enough?”

Nara looked at their joined hands, and then up at Himchan. He gave her a reassuring smile, and she smiled back before nodding. “You’re right. I’m worrying too much, aren’t I?”

“You’ve been looking really anxious and stressed out ever since we came back to Seoul,” Himchan pointed out, going straight for what he thought was the root of the problem. “What’s bothering you?”

Nara looked down, avoiding his gaze. “I don’t know. I just feel uneasy. I’m probably just not used to this environment yet, after being away for so long.”

Himchan could tell that she wasn’t really revealing everything she was thinking, but he didn’t push it. He could understand why returning to Seoul would be difficult for her. There were too many painful memories here, and living in Daejeon the past three years made it easier for her to suppress them instead of coming to terms with them in a healthy way. In addition, they were returning with new identities and had to cope with the fear of being forced to face their past before they were ready to. She’d been holding up fairly well so far, but Himchan was really worried that coming back to Seoul would cause her to break.

“If you don’t like it here, we could always go back to Daejeon,” he said gently. “We don’t have to stay here.”

At that suggestion, Nara stiffened and pulled her hand out of Himchan’s grip. “No,” she replied flatly. “I’ve waited long enough. I need to take back what is rightfully mine.”

Himchan in a deep breath. He knew how driven she was by her desire for revenge. He was concerned, but they, including Daehyun and Junhong, had had so many disagreements over the decision to return, and he didn’t feel like starting that up again so he held his tongue. “You know I’ll support you no matter what. I’m just worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” Nara answered. “I just need some time to get readjusted.”

Himchan nodded and said nothing more. He knew that look of determination on her face that meant that it was the end of the discussion. She was a stubborn person, and in all the years he’d known her, he’d never figured out how to change her mind once it was set. Holding in a sigh, he stepped away from her. “I’m going to head out to run some errands before Howon wakes up. Do you need anything?”

Nara shook her head. “No. I should probably do some laundry too.” She made a face. “Now that there are so many men in the house, there’s so much work to do,” she grumbled, standing and bringing her mug to the sink. “And that pile of jerseys… Were they playing soccer or taking a mud bath?”

Himchan laughed. “Get one of them to help you if there’s a lot to do. Remember, you’re a mother of one, not five.”

Nara laughed along, but after Himchan disappeared from sight, her smile faded. Right. She was returning to Seoul a mother.

How much things have changed in three years.

Junhong sat in the café, eyes darting around nervously. He fidgeted with the straw in his drink, and then with his phone. After looking around the sparsely filled café another time, he took out the name card in his pocket. He turned it over in his hand, studying the blue header with the gold lettering.

Seoul Metropolitan Police Agency.

He couldn’t believe he was meeting a policeman voluntarily. He was a wanted criminal who was supposed to be dead. What if it was a trap? What if the police were going to spring out, arrest him and throw him in jail? He felt a trickle of sweat roll down his forehead as he continued to fiddle with the card.

But it was Yongguk hyung. Yongguk hyung would never do that to him… would he? It was hard to tell. The Yongguk hyung he knew would never have done what he did three years ago, but clearly, he didn’t know Yongguk well enough. How could he be sure of anything at all? Junhong was so deep in thought that he didn’t notice someone approaching until a shadow fell over the table, causing him to look up to see who was standing in front of him.

It was Yongguk.

Junhong’s chair scrapped against the floor noisily as he jumped up to bow respectfully to the older man. “Hello… hyung.”

Yongguk inclined his head in greeting before sitting down and gesturing for the younger man to do the same. When they were both seated, they stared at each other in silence for a long moment.

They had both changed over the years. Junhong, who had been an adorable teenage boy, was now a young man. His baby fat had melted away, leaving behind sharper features that were all hard angles. From the thin t-shirt that he was wearing, it was apparent that he’d been working out; a hint of a well-built chest and muscled arms was visible. He seemed taller and bigger than before. The greatest difference was in his eyes. While they’d always used to seem innocent and curious, there was now a wariness that wasn’t there before. He was more cautious now, more thoughtful; no doubt, it was something developed from living on the run for years.

As Yongguk took in Junhong’s appearance, Junhong was doing the same to him. In just three years, Yongguk looked like he’d aged a decade. He looked much older now, and everything about him just portrayed the image of a man who was tired in every sense of the word. His cheeks were hollow from the weight he’d lost, and he looked gaunt. It was shocking and unexpected. All this time, his hyungs had spoken of Yongguk as a traitor, accusing him of using them for his own gains. They’d bitterly speculated about his promotion in the police force, and how he must have been glorified as some kind of hero because of the huge case he’d cracked. Now, sitting in front of him, Junhong couldn’t see any indication of the success or confidence that he’d been expecting. If anything, judging from the state of his old and worn clothes, he seemed much worse off than before.

The older man spoke first, breaking the silence. “How have you been?”

Upon hearing him speak, Junhong was terrified. How was he supposed to answer? What if Yongguk was fishing for some kind of intel, and he accidentally gave something away? “I, uh… I’m fine. A-and you?”

Yongguk could sense his hesitation, and he didn’t blame him. “I’m…” He thought about it for a moment. He couldn’t exactly say he was doing good, because every day felt like a living hell for him, but at least he was alive, right? He sighed. “Okay. I guess.”

An awkward silence fell over the pair, and Yongguk sighed again. “Junhong ah, you don’t have to be scared of me. I have no ulterior motives for approaching you. I just really wanted to know how you’ve been doing, as a hyung… a friend.” He paused, his face looking sad. “This whole time, I thought you were dead.”

Junhong felt his defenses lower just a little. Maybe Himchan was wrong. Maybe Yongguk wasn’t really a heartless person who’d made use of them to get further in life. “We didn’t have a choice.” He swallowed the lump in his throat before looking cautiously at Yongguk. “If you saw me, that means you also saw…”

“Yeah,” Yongguk admitted. “I saw Himchan and Daehyun at the prison the other day, when Youngjae and Jongup were released. I’ve been following you guys around and observing you for a while.”

Junhong’s eyes widened in alarm, and he swung his head left to right to check if there were cops swarming out to arrest him.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Yongguk said quickly, holding a hand out to reassure him. “I don’t do that anymore. I’m just a regular cop now. I just… patrol the streets. In fact, I’m off duty now, so I have absolutely no authority at the moment.”

“Why?” Junhong blurted out. “Shouldn’t you be some big-shot officer now? Wasn’t the Black Dragon bust all your credit?”

Yongguk looked down at the table and Junhong could tell that contrary to his belief, it wasn’t something that the elder man was proud of. “I don’t know. I just didn’t feel like doing it anymore.”

Junhong stared at him. It was extremely disconcerting to see Yongguk like this. He looked like a shell of his older self. The old Yongguk was ambitious and driven, but the new one just looked… lost. He couldn’t be sure that it was the Yongguk he knew. He kind of looked like the same person, but he didn’t feel like the same person.

“So, um…” Yongguk said, clearing his throat when the younger man didn’t answer. “You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to, but I… I just have some questions. Stuff I’m curious about. I swear none of it will be used against you.”

Junhong nodded uncertainly. “I’ll try.”

“I, uh… I saw a-a… child,” Yongguk stammered. “Are… Nara and… H-Himchan…”

At that moment, Junhong came to the realization that Yongguk had really loved Nara. Unlike how his hyungs always made it sound, he didn’t just use her to crack a case. This realization comforted him a little, because it meant that he wasn’t a complete fool for trusting Yongguk; there was a real bond there. However, he was smart enough to know that there were some things that Nara would rather not let Yongguk know, even if it weren’t incriminating. “They’re legally married,” Junhong said, choosing his words carefully. “That’s their son, Howon.”

Yongguk felt like his entire soul was crushed with that one word.

Married.

Their son. They had a son. Together.

That life could have been his, if he hadn’t messed up the way he did. It could have been him and Nara, happily married and starting a family together. Kim Himchan was living his dream, and he had nobody to blame but himself.

Junhong saw the crestfallen expression on his hyung’s face, and he regretted his words. He could see something extinguish in Yongguk’s eyes, and it pained him so much he almost blurted out the truth.

Almost.

He knew that Nara would kill him if he told Yongguk the most important part of the story.

Yongguk could feel his head spinning as he tried to process that little bit of information that he’d been given. Before he’d come out to meet Junhong, he’d thought of a million questions to ask about how they’d been living the past three years, but with that first question answered, the rest suddenly didn’t matter anymore. He felt as if there were something heavy sitting on his chest, making it hard for him to breathe properly.

“I… I have to go,” he rasped out, shoving his hands into his pocket and hastily getting to his feet. “Y-you… You guys will be staying in Seoul for a while, right?”

Junhong nodded. “For the foreseeable future, yes.”

“I’ll call you,” Yongguk said, and then he was gone, leaving Junhong sitting there, dumbfounded.

Yongguk left the café, his thoughts in a mess. For the past three years, he’d been keeping their memories close to him, and he’d fantasized about how they’d have been living if Nara had been alive. He’d let himself build an imaginary world in his head where he could have salvaged whatever he’d broken, and they could still have had a happy ending. It was easy to create an imaginary future when he’d believed that she was dead. Now, finding out that she’d been alive all this while, and building a new life that didn’t include him… It shattered all the fantasies that had been his coping mechanism for three years.

She was fine without him. She had someone else now. She probably hated him and wanted nothing to do with him. She had moved on and now she loved someone else. Not just anyone else, but Kim Himchan, who’d been there for her since the beginning. They were happy. They had a family.

It wasn’t fair… His life had revolved around a specter of her for three years, but she, with all the knowledge that he was alive, and knew exactly where to find him, had consciously chosen to be with someone else. He clearly wasn’t as important to her as she was to him.

That really, really hurt.

As these toxic, destructive thoughts flitted through his head in droves, he found himself unable to focus. He heard curses thrown his way as he bumped into people, stumbling over his own feet. He couldn’t deal with all his thoughts that were flooding his mind, together with all the happy memories with her from before he messed up. They all came together and clashed with each other, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make them go away. He felt like there was a tremendous roaring in his head, and he pressed his palms to his temples, as if trying to physically stop the pain.

He looked up in a daze, finding that he’d been walking aimlessly for a long time. He had no idea where he was, and he couldn’t remember where he’d parked his bike. He turned to the side, and caught sight of a signboard that seemed to him like a sign of salvation from the heavens.

The liquor store.

His shoulders slumped in relief as his feet started moving towards the glass door at the entrance of the store.

There was no doubt that he would find what he needed there.