Hana

Jimin had taken over Lay’s car. His hair falls over his eyes as he steers the car toward the hospital, and I twist back in the seat and asking Lay again for the third time, “Are you sure?”

“We’re sure,” Jimin murmurs. “And we don’t know what we should do about it.”

Lay props his bleeding leg a little higher, “Can we transfer guardianship that easily? I assume that if she really is Lu Han’s child, that Lu Han would want her back.”

I shake my head, “He shouldn’t be in the country in the first place. If that car accident was targeted at him, then it was a warning.”

“He’s not particularly fond of any of us.” Jimin’s nose twitches.

“You think he’s any fonder of Min Yoongi?” Lay shoots back dryly.

The three of us snort at that. If Lu Han knew that Min Yoongi was anywhere near his kid he would go on a warpath. It wasn’t much of a secret that Lu Han didn’t align himself with Min Yoongi’s interests, and that’s why it was such a surprise when he accepted the offer at Jung Hoseok’s company after leaving the small firm that he had started from.

But that firm had been taken over by Jungkook, forcing Lu Han out, and it was the first time that Jungkook had come up against any sort of resistance since he started fulfilling his role as the heir. Needless to say, Lu Han and Jungkook weren’t exactly fond of each other either.

And in retrospect, it meant that Lu Han wasn’t exactly fond of me. But Jungkook’s actions were not my own.

“Min Yoongi is going to kill me,” I mutter to myself as the situation sinks into my skin.

“Yes, but what’s the reason this time?” Jimin’s eyes flicker to me before focusing back on the road.

“Because he’s gotten attached to the kid, and I’ve known about her father for a while,” I groan. “It’s as good as betrayal.”

“Don’t tell me you actually empathize with the man,” Jimin scoffs, and I stay quiet at that, because who would have expected it? We’re each other’s biggest enemies.

Lay, who probably understands the situation better than I do, wisely says nothing.

“You can’t be serious,” Jimin’s voice gets deeper. “He tries to undermine everything that we do!”

“Both sides undermine each other, to be fair,” Lay murmurs. “It just happens that one side has morals.”

Something about that statement makes me realize that I disagree. Because I think that Yoongi just might be the exception. That thought dwells in my head for the rest of the drive as Jimin and Lay talk; they talk about what Lu Han’s return meant, they talk about the legalities of guardianship, and they talk about Jimin’s research into the shares.

I pay very little attention until the car is neatly parked in the lot of the hospital and Jimin yawns, “I’ll take a nap until Lay’s done.”

Lay, the self-sufficient person that he is, tries to get out of the car and flashes me an apologetic grin when I slip an arm around his waist for balance. Somehow, with three feet and two tired brains, we get to the emergency room where Lay busies himself with a pen and forms.

And of course, he tries to get up from the chair and I force him back to down so I could turn the forms in myself.

“Hana?”

“Hm?”

“You don’t seem as shaken as I know you are,” Lay closes his eyes and tips his head back, leaning against the back of the chair.

I bite on the inside of my cheek, because what was I supposed to say? How would I admit that Huang Zitao scared me enough to want to drop any investigating? How would I admit that his threat made me scared for my company? How would I admit that I was terrified that Chanyeol had been found out?

“You’re too smart for your own good,” I finally say.

That wasn’t an exactly new trait of his, to be honest. He had always been too smart for his own good. How else would he have gotten into the National Intelligence Service?

The man had gotten away with it too, despite his hemophilia being a liability in the field because he has somehow changed his medical records for it not to be listed in his existing conditions before turning it into the employers. It was only two years into his training when he had been cut deeply with a knife that he had been found out.

Not only had he been promptly pulled out of the field, but he was also fired. Their loss, really. Lay would have been just as good working behind the scenes.

And Lay—he had become attached to the job that gave him the adrenaline rush that he needed at the time. Since then, he had become less of an adrenaline junkie, but stuck to his agent name for reasons unknown.

When he had been fired, someone within the agency who had a connection to my father had told him about the agent who should have been kept for data analysis, and the next day I had knocked on the agent’s door.

Lay had slammed the door in my face. But that wasn’t really surprising. In retrospect, it would have been equivalent to rubbing salt in an open wound. But the younger Byun Hana made a lot of mistakes, and somehow, going after Lay wasn’t one of them.

Eventually he needed a job, and he reluctantly took the offer. He was quiet, did the bare minimum, and spent more time asleep than awake at his desk until he had found out about the amount of criticism that I got for hiring someone for a position when the candidate wasn’t knowledgeable in the products of the company, nor in business tactics.

I stuck out my neck for him, so he stuck out his neck for me. And much to his delight, the data analysis and power struggles served his need for adrenaline, and he had become a major player within the company.

And that’s why I always felt terrible for suspecting him for turning rogue.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, turning towards him as his long lashes flutter slightly as he breathes, eyes still shut.

“I know.” He didn’t bother asking what I was apologizing for, because somehow he knew. Lay always knew. “So, tomorrow is your birthday.”

I frown at that, checking my phone. He was right. I sigh, “I don’t particularly care. You know that I—”

“Hate birthdays.” Lay choruses with me. “I know.”

That wasn’t really a secret. I didn’t have much of  a family life, and I had been mostly isolated growing up, with Jimin being the exception. And even though Jimin had tried his hardest, my father always forgot because he was busy with work, and I somehow never liked it. I never really celebrated it. It just never felt important.

“I should start prepping for the biotechnology conference around Valentine’s Day,” I abruptly change the subject, but I know I’m not fooling either of us. Lay always saw right through me.

“Hana, find yourself someone who loves your pieces enough to glue them back together.”
 

Suga

Hiding Ahyeon for a full day was somehow more difficult than it seemed. Not only did Taehyung, Jin, and Hoseok have the terrible habit of showing up without invitation, but the place was just not well-equipped for a child.

And that’s why I was staring at Ahyeon at ten in the morning as she was watching the news because I didn’t have any cartoons or children’s channels. She must have been extremely bored to watch the interview of a member of the National Assembly.

Vibrations break me from my thoughts, and I fish out my phone from my pocket, keeping an eye on Ahyeon who somehow is somewhat entertained by the news as she keeps her arms circled around her the stuffed animal that was the same size as her.

“Hello?”

“Can you meet up in three hours? And bring Ahyeon,” Lay’s tone tells me that this is less of a question and more of a requirement.

“Any updates?” I ask him the usual question.

“Hana’s birthday is today, if you care.”

And with that statement, he hangs up, and I’m left staring back at my phone. What was I even supposed to do with that information?

But twenty minutes later, Ahyeon is strapped into the car and I’m driving to the same store that I had promised Taehyung that I would never step foot in again: Gucci.
 

Ahyeon seemed to really like Gucci, which honestly set a dangerous precedent. I had ended up holding her hand so she didn’t run off. Somehow, it only takes an hour for me to settle on something, which was probably much longer than it should have been.

But in the meanwhile, Ahyeon had gotten hungry, so I watch as she chews on her bulgogi with puffed out cheeks and wide eyes. One thing that I had gotten used to was the fact that children take longer to eat, and I wipe her cheek with a napkin as she finishes.

I pay and we head toward Lay’s, and I never thought I’d say that with a sense of relief. As responsible as I felt for Ahyeon, she didn’t fit into my lifestyle. And that thought weighs heavily in my head, because what if I wanted a family? What if I eventually wanted a kid?

Was that something that I could do?

I am still thinking about it as I lift Ahyeon up so she could ring the doorbell because she really liked to press buttons, but before she does, Hana opens the door and quickly ushers us in before shutting it firmly behind us. “Yoongi, can you take Ahyeon to her room? There’s something we need to talk about.”

I furrow my eyebrows at that, but I kick off the shoes anyway and take Ahyeon’s hand. Lay and Hana look ridiculously tense, and I notice Lay’s slight limp. Something was up, and something was serious. So I take Ahyeon’s hand and lead her toward her room. She seems completely unaware of the tension, and I shoot a questioning look at Lay that he doesn’t see as he nods at Hana.

And as soon as the door opens to Ahyeon’s door, there’s a knock at the front door. And that’s what really grabs my attention, because if anyone else knew about our situation, the two of us could risk exposure.

“Stay here, okay?” I hand Ahyeon a coloring book and some crayons. “Don’t come outsi