[credit: babydollmato.tumblr.com]

Author's note: 

Some reprieve, after all the gloom and doom of the past few chapters.

My apologies for how long this chapter took. I hope I still have readers. >.<

xx

“Noona! What on earth are you doing?!”

Nara looked up with a start at the exclamation that had come from the door, but before she had any time to react, a blur of long limbs and blond hair barreled into the room and grabbed the dumbbells from her hands.

She blinked. “What?”

“Are you crazy?!” Junhong all but shrieked as he threw the dumbbells down with a loud thud. “How can a pregnant woman be lifting weights?!”

“Those are 2.5kg,” Nara pointed out. “I’m pregnant, not crippled.”

Junhong looked around the gym room, clearly not registering what Nara was saying. “This can’t do. We need to lock this room up so that you can’t get in here.”

Nara narrowed her eyes at him. “Aren’t you overdoing it a little?”

Over the past couple of weeks, her belly had been getting visibly bigger, and what has resulted was that the three men in the house had started treating her as if she were made of glass. If she so much as moved a chair, someone would come running to help her. While it had felt a little nice at first to have them waiting hand and foot on her, it was frankly starting to get a bit overbearing. They didn’t let her do anything or go anywhere alone. She was starting to go crazy from from their special treatment.

Junhong shook his head. “The doctor said your body isn’t very strong, so we can’t take too many precautions.”

“Uh huh,” Nara said dryly. “My body isn’t very strong and hence, I am strengthening it by doing some light exercises.”

He didn’t seem to have heard her as the gears spun in his brain. Suddenly, his eyes lit up and he looked at her with a grin on his face. “I have an idea.”

Daehyun entered the house with a bag of groceries. He’d barely taken two steps into the house when he froze and did a double take.

He wanted to wash his eyes, but he knew he couldn’t un-see Junhong’s , clad in a pair of multi-colored tights. He was in the middle of the living room, on all fours, with one long leg lifted high up in the air as if he were a peeing dog.

“Do I want to ask?”

“No, you really don’t,” came Nara’s voice. She was sitting on the couch, watching him with her arms crossed over her chest and an unimpressed look on her face.

Junhong sat up with a huff, and Daehyun’s frown deepened when he saw that Junhong also had a cushion under his t-shirt to mimic a baby bump. “I’m learning prenatal yoga so that I can teach it to Nara noona.”

Daehyun gestured to his belly. “Is that really necessary?”

Junhong touched his belly protectively. “Prenatal yoga is supposed to help you get in touch with your baby. Of course it’s necessary.”

Daehyun raised an eyebrow and glanced at Nara.

“Don’t look at me,” she stated. “I didn’t ask him to do this.”

“I caught her lifting weights!” Junhong accused.

Daehyun’s mouth dropped open with a gasp. “You were doing what?!”

Nara made a face at Junhong. “I was doing bicep curls, with baby weights. Don’t exaggerate.”

“Lock the gym room so she can’t get in,” Daehyun commanded Junhong at once.

“Already did,” Junhong replied proudly.

“Smart boy,” Daehyun complimented him. He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment to set down the groceries, and then reappeared with a look of determination. He stared pointedly at Nara as he cracked his knuckles.

“Okay, we’re all going to learn some prenatal yoga today.”

Yongguk sat outside on his balcony, looking up at the stars that reminded him of everything that he’d lost.

He exhaled and watched the smoke rise into the air, curling before disappearing. He felt as insubstantial as that wisp of smoke. His life no longer held any meaning. He had neither friends nor family. Every day, he ate and slept to keep himself alive, but what exactly was he staying alive for? What did it even mean to be alive when he couldn’t feel anything anymore?

He felt a slight heat at the tip of his fingers, and he looked down to see that his cigarette had already burned all the way down to the . It almost surprised him that he was capable of feeling heat. Lately, he’d just been numb. He didn’t feel anything when his heating had been cut off and he had to take cold showers. He didn’t feel anything when he had to eat soggy ramyun. He didn’t even feel anything when the soju he drank by the liter to stop himself from thinking caused him to wake up with the worst hangovers. It was like the pain that was eating him up from the inside had stopped him from feeling any other kind of pain on the outside.

For weeks after Nara’s death, the pain had built and built, searing every inch of his being, consuming him with the worst agony ever, completely immobilizing him. And then, all of a sudden, it had stopped. Now, when he thought of her – the way she smiled, the way she held him, and the way she told him that she loved him – he felt nothing. Even when he thought of the way she looked at him with all the hatred in the world in the interrogation room, his heart no longer constricted. It was like he’d tipped over the edge and could no longer feel any pain.

That scared him.

Yongguk stared at the red glow from the last dying embers of the cigarette. Without thinking, he held out his left forearm and touched the tip of the cigarette to his skin. It took him a few seconds before he felt the pain.

That ing hurt.

Hissing, he dropped the cigarette and his left arm swung out, knocking an empty soju bottle off the table beside him. He blinked to his senses as he stared at the shattered green shards on the floor beside him. He looked at his arm. There was a small circle of black soot, beneath which he could feel his skin blistering.

He felt only the slightest bit of relief that he was still capable of feeling something.

At least that meant that he wasn’t dead yet.

He sighed as he looked down at the mess that he’d made. He should probably clean that up. He crouched and picked up the biggest piece of the broken bottle. Then, his hand froze as he stared at the sharp edge of the glass. The jagged green edge glinted slightly under the light, drawing him into a trance. All he could feel was the smooth, cold glass beneath his fingers. His eyes focused on the broken edge. It looked like it was really, really sharp. Like it wouldn’t take much force to cut through something. He could imagine it slicing through a surface smoothly and easily. A surface like… His eyes trailed towards his other hand. Still in a daze, he turned his forearm so that his wrist was now facing upwards.

It would be so easy.

Easier than going through the motions every single day, wondering why exactly he was doing it.

Easier than reliving every single painful memory and regretting every decision.

Easier than feeling absolutely powerless, like he couldn’t do a single damn thing that could possibly matter.

“I wouldn’t do that, if I were you.”

A voice came out of nowhere, shattering the silence of the night. Yongguk dropped the piece of glass with a start, his head whipping around in the direction of the disturbance.

A short distance away, on the balcony of the apartment next door, was someone looking at him with an amused expression. It was a skinny, heavily tattooed man in a pair of ripped jeans and a white wifebeater. He was leaning against the railing, smoking. He must be a neighbor. Ever since Yongguk had moved back into this apartment, he’d been living like a zombie. He had no impression of any of his neighbors.

“What?”

The man gestured towards the glass on the floor of Yongguk’s balcony. “Whatever you were thinking of. It’s not a good way to go.”

Yongguk was speechless. He didn’t know what he should say. He glanced at the broken glass before looking back at the man. He his dry lips. “I-I… I was…”

The man shrugged and held up his arms. “Hey, I know it’s none of my business. Just throwing my opinion out there.”

Yongguk’s brow furrowed. He wasn’t quite sure where this conversation was going, or what he could say to continue it. “I, uh… Yeah. Sure.”

“This building is already crappy enough,” the man continued. Clearly, carrying a conversation wasn’t one of his weaknesses. “Imagine how much lower the value is going to drop if something like that happens here.”

Yongguk coughed. “Right.” Suddenly, he felt exhausted. He stood and gestured towards his apartment. “I’m just going to go back inside.”

The other guy nodded. He lifted his hand in a casual wave. “I’m Kim Sungwon, by the way. All my friends call me Sleepy.”

Yongguk nodded in response. “Bang Yongguk.”

Sleepy grinned. “Nice to meet you, neighbor. See you around.”

“Yeah.”

Yongguk had replied soullessly, without an ounce of sincerity. He stepped back inside his apartment and closed the door tightly, pushing that strange encounter from his mind. He hoped he didn’t have to cross paths with that weirdo again.

Neither man expected that it would turn out to be a serendipitous meeting.

Himchan held the phone to his ear as he skilfully navigated his car into the parking lot with only one hand on the steering wheel. “Are you sure we can trust this guy?”

On the other end of the line, Seungri barked out a laugh. “Do you think you have a choice? My hyungs have all returned to Japan to man our own businesses. I’m not going to stay here and deal with all your for you.”

Himchan chuckled. “Come on, it’s not like you didn’t benefit from it. I heard you opened a ramen joint.”

Seungri was silent for a beat. He probably hadn’t expected Himchan to find out that he’d been siphoning some of the Black Dragon’s profits for his own use, or for him to keep quiet about the fact that he already knew. He cleared his throat. “I think I deserve that little bit for my efforts, don’t you agree?”

“Of course,” Himchan answered coolly. “In our line, we don’t expect anyone to do any favors for us for free.” He was okay with Seungri taking his own cut, but he wanted the other man to know that he was still in control of his own turf. “Back to this JB guy. You’re sure he’s trustworthy?”

Seungri laughed. “You and I both know that I can’t vouch for him. You’re just going to have to find some way to work with him. I can say that his connections are legit though. He and his gang have been working with no backers for a while now, and even with just seven of them, they’ve been able to secure their own territory in Apgujeong. I heard they find their own suppliers and do small-time deals across international borders. They’re capable.”

“So what makes you so sure that they want to work with us?”

“Can anyone say no to earning more money?” Seungri asked. “They’ve got ambition. With the Black Dragon’s clout, they can do so much more than just own a little slice of Seoul. It would be a huge disadvantage to you if the Red Eagle gets to them first.”

Himchan puffed out his cheeks before turning off the engine and getting out of the car, one hand still holding his phone to his ear. “I’ll talk to him,” he agreed. “But he’s technically meeting two guys that are supposed to be dead. If he snitches, I assure you that I won’t go down alone.”

Seungri laughed. “I’ll be long gone by then. What are you going to do, set Interpol on me?” He knew that Himchan was fishing for assurance, but he wasn’t going to make empty promises. In their line of work, there was no way anybody could vouch for anyone else’s loyalty. What happened to the Black Dragon was one obvious example that nobody could be trusted a hundred percent. “Let me know how it goes.”

Himchan sighed, before hanging up and checking the address that Seungri had sent him. He’d agreed to meet Zico and this guy called JB at a café in Daegu, a somewhat neutral location considering that both he and Zico were on the run. After everything that had happened, he was more cautious than before, but even he had to admit that Seungri was right. He didn’t have much of a choice right now; there were some risks that he had to take.

He entered the nondescript café to the chime of bells, looking around cautiously. A waiter greeted him politely, and Himchan nodded gruffly before spotting Zico sitting at the only occupied table in the place. He made his way over, and the younger man stood, grinning widely as he held out his arms.

“Long time no see, hyung,” Zico said, as the two men grasped each other’s hands and bumped shoulders.

Himchan patted him on the back. “How’s the air in Busan?”

“Good,” Zico replied, pulling out a chair for Himchan before sitting down himself. “Kwonnie loves it, but it’s getting a bit boring for me. You know I like to go full steam ahead, but Busan is a bit too laid back.”

“Just hang in there a little longer,” Himchan said. “We can all go back to Seoul when things blow over a little.”

He studied Zico as the younger man gestured for the waiter to take their orders. The last time he had seen Zico and Yukwon, both of them had looked absolutely crushed, and even though he had done his best to give them new lives, he wasn’t sure they would be able to survive the blow of losing five of their members. Seeing Zico now, though, he was relieved. There was color in his face, and life in his eyes when he spoke. He looked much better than at the time of their last meeting.

“So, who’s this guy we’re meeting?” Zico asked. “You said he was younger, right? He has some audacity, making us wait like that.”

“Seungri recommended him,” Himchan answered. “His name is Im Jae Bum. Goes by the name JB.” He decided not to mention that JB was the leader of a group with seven members, in case it brought back painful memories for Zico. “His crew is apparently a mix of different nationalities. They have inroads to Hong Kong, Thailand and I heard they even dared to pull off some small-time deals in LA.”

Zico raised an eyebrow. “And they’re independent? How can they do all that without backers?”

“They’re free agents,” Himchan pointed out. “They find different buyers and different sellers, and they make a cut by being the middlemen. They don’t hold any stock or move anything in large quantities, so it’s low risk. By not having any allegiances, they also fly under the radar. They’re resourceful.”

At this time, the bells above the door chimed again, and both men turned towards the entrance just as a man in dark jeans and a black hoodie stepped in. His dark hair fell over his eyes, making it harder to read him, but even then, his aura of danger was unmistakable. He spotted the two men, and as he made his way across the café, the air of confidence that he radiated showed that he wasn’t at all daunted by the two men who were supposedly considered his seniors.

JB bowed respectfully when he reached the table, a smirk quirking at the corner of his lips as he eyed the two men. “Himchan-ssi, Zico-ssi. It’s an honor to meet the two of you in the flesh. I’m JB.”

The two men regarded him warily as they invited him to take a seat. There was a moment of tense silence as all three men sized each other up.

JB was the first to break the silence. “I heard from Seungri hyung that you have a business proposition for me.” His cat-like eyes flickered between the two men before they settled on Himchan. “I’ll cut to the chase. My crew and I have been surviving fine without taking sides. What can you offer us to make us pick the losing side?”

Zico snorted. “You think we’re the losing side?”

JB looked bemused. “Judging from how I had to drive all the way out here to meet with two ghosts, it would seem that way.”

He was straightforward. Himchan liked that. “I heard you guys run Apgujeong,” Himchan said calmly. “If you work with us, you can run all the territory we have. Itaewon, Gangnam, Hongdae, all of it.”

JB was unimpressed. “What’s the cut?”

“80-20.”

Zico jerked upright in his seat and turned to Himchan in disbelief. “What? Hyung…”

“Same goes to you, Jiho,” Himchan interrupted. “I’ll send some guys down to work with you in Busan. You and Yukwon can run all the clubs we have. I’m only taking a 20% cut.”

That got JB’s attention. It was definitely way more than he had expected, and more than any other rival gang could offer. There had to be a catch. “You do know that the Red Eagles are all over your joints, right? At this rate, your guys will all be driven out. You can’t promise all that.”

“If I can hold on to all of that on my own, will I need to work with you?” Himchan pointed out. “I know your guys are good, and you’re ambitious. If you can hold the fort, and take charge of all the guys we have there, you can be in charge of everything. I’m not going to lie. It’s going to be a lot of tough work, but it comes with a lot of money and power.”

JB was silent for a moment as he mulled over Himchan’s proposition. His suspicion was apparent. “You’re putting a lot of trust in a bunch of people you don’t know. What makes you think we can do the job that you require?”

Himchan shrugged. “To be honest, the businesses the police have found and shut down have barely put a dent in our operations. We still have a fully functioning and healthy system going. We still have our physical properties, and we still have many men that are depending on us for a living and are willing to work. I know the Red Eagles are trying to drive my men out, and I know why they’re not fighting back. The one thing that they’re sorely missing is strong leadership, and I think that you can provide that. You worked your way up from nothing, with no backing. That tells me you’re competent, and ambitious. Imagine what you can do with the resources that I can provide.”

“And if we fail?”

“I’ll deal with the losses,” Himchan replied coolly. He nodded at Zico. “Same to you. You don’t need to be responsible for any losses, but if there are any profits, you keep 80%. Sounds like a good deal to me.”

JB raised an eyebrow. “Sounds too good to be true.”

Himchan cracked a smile. “It does, doesn’t it? Well, you can call me stupid, but I live by the Black Dragon’s code of honor. We believe that the gang is family, and we treat each other as such. Sticking to this belief may have caused our downfall, but it is the foundation that the gang was built on, and it is something that we will stand strongly by. If you trust us and treat us like family, we will make sure we treat you well.” His smile remained on his face, but his eyes stared down JB meaningfully. “Of course, if you behave otherwise, then we will also return the favor.”

JB chuckled, shaking his head at the thinly veiled threat. “That was more along the lines of what I was expecting. I was getting uncomfortable with all the good stuff you were offering.”

“So, you in?” Zico asked impatiently.

JB paused. Then, he let out a yawn. “I don’t know. I think I need to discuss it with my guys first.”

Himchan crossed his arms, looking at him evenly. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have driven all the way out here without a list of things you wanted to hear, or demands that you wanted to make. If we weren’t able to match it, you would have rejected me outright.” He cocked an eyebrow. “Is there really a need to drag things out?”

A look of amusement appeared on JB’s face. “You’re every bit as perceptive as others say you are. I’ve heard that nothing ever escapes you. It’s interesting to witness in person.”

Zico leaned forward. “Cut the crap. Are you in, or out? Just one word.”

JB’s eyes glanced from Zico to Himchan. Not a word passed between the three for a long time. The tension was thick enough to be sliced with a knife. Even with the clear two-against-one situation, JB was not even the least bit daunted.

Finally, he exhaled deeply before he gave his answer with a sardonic smile.

“I guess the Black Dragon just gained seven new brothers, hyung.”

Himchan dragged himself up the driveway. He was exhausted after the intense meeting and the long drive, but he was relieved to finally be home. It’d been a tiring few days for him, but with the new partnership settled, he could finally breathe a little. He couldn’t wait to be welcomed back by his family, especially considering the fact that he was holding a box of pastries in his hands. Recently, Nara had been having late night cravings for dessert, and Daehyun was… well, Daehyun. He could already picture how happy they would be to see that he’d returned with food.

Imagine his surprise when he opened the front door to find the lights off. The living room was dimly lit with candles scattered all over seemingly random surfaces. The thick smell of some kind of incense caused him to wrinkle his nose.

He walked further into the house, only to be greeted by the strange view of three people in a neat row with their hands and feet on the floor, their butts sticking up in the air.

“Uh… What’s going on?”

Junhong’s face appeared upside-down between his legs, furrowed with annoyance. “Shhhh! Hyung! You’re disturbing our energy!”

Then, Nara’s face appeared too, smiling. “We’re doing yoga. Want to join?”

Like clockwork, Daehyun’s face popped out. “Stop talking! We’re supposed to be—oh, you brought food?” His stance quickly collapsed as he jumped to his feet, bounding over to Himchan, who was absolutely bewildered by his ridiculous-looking tights and the cushion that he had on under his t-shirt.

“What the hell…”

Daehyun plucked the box from his stunned hyung’s hands, before giving him a quick bow.

“Namaste.”