Secrets

The phone in Junmyeon’s pocket rang for the second time. He ignored it. Recently, he had begun listening to Yixing’s concerns and no longer brought work home during the weekends. That included not taking phone calls.

Today was Chanyeol’s and Kyungsoo’s wedding anniversary. Usually, their kids would have stayed with Chanyeol’s parents for the day, but because they were busy taking a cruise, Yixing had offered to take care of the children instead, so his friends could have a day to themselves. Junmyeon hadn’t minded. He liked those kids. And that was why Junmyeon currently sat on the carpet next to the coffee table, holding Dongwon on his lap. He was supposed to accompany Sohee while painting. She was making a family portrait and would gift it to her parents later. Sohee had said she wanted Junmyeon to paint the honeysuckles Yixing had put in the living room. However, now that Dongwon had learned how to walk, he toddled everywhere, which required more supervision. In the end, Junmyeon had just given up on his painting (although it was starting to look good) and decided to keep Dongwon distracted with the book with animal sounds. Meanwhile, Yixing was preparing lunch.

“Your phone is ringing again, Big Suho,” Sohee said, not raising her head from her painting. She was painting the bunny now.

Junmyeon was about to ignore it again but thought that if it was the office again, it might be important. To his surprise, when he checked, the phone showed Tao’s name. He called Tao back. The phone call lasted less than ten seconds. ‘I need to talk to you urgently, you know what,’ that was the only thing Tao had said. Junmyeon didn’t even manage to reply before Tao had hung up the phone. His mind didn’t need much time to come up with what it was. His heart leaped at the thought that Tao had reached an answer. At last.

Junmyeon put the book on the coffee table and stood up with Dongwon in his arms. Sohee’s glance fell on him, and he excused himself by saying he needed to go, not before telling her that her family portrait was turning out good. He walked into the kitchen and saw his boyfriend cutting some onions. Yixing always wore those dorky glasses to avoid the tears. But Junmyeon had to admit, Yixing looked adorable.

“It’s something the matter, Myeon?” Yixing asked when he noticed him standing there.

Junmyeon went to sit Dongwon on the baby chair near the kitchen counter, where they all had eaten breakfast earlier (Yes, Junmyeon had bought one just for today).

He walked forward to give Yixing a good-bye kiss.

“I need to go see Tao. It’s urgent.”

“Is Tao okay?”

“Yes, he’s fine. This is… Work related.”

Yixing didn’t ask anything else but leaned in again to give him another kiss.

Although Junmyeon wanted to tell Yixing he had news about his sister, Tao had made him promise he wouldn’t say anything without his approval. But Junmyeon could already envision how happy Yixing would be when he heard the news. Somehow, that also was starting to make Junmyeon feel joyful too.

And so, he made his way.

The first thing Tao said to him after opening the door was: “You’re… Wearing sweat-pants?”

Junmyeon rolled his eyes. But he understood Tao’s astonishment. This was probably the first time since they were young that Tao saw him dressed in a simple t-shirt and sweat-pants (although the price of those items said the opposite of simplicity). Junmyeon would never wear something like that outside. But wearing it home was undoubtedly comfortable, just like Yixing had said it was…

“You told me it was urgent. I didn’t have time to change.”

Tao chuckled before stepping aside, letting Junmyeon in. Yifan wasn’t at home, so it was only the two of them. They walked together to Tao’s home office. Junmyeon sat down on one of the armchairs in front of the desk while Tao went to his lockbox and brought out some folders. When Tao had finally sat down, Junmyeon said, “You found her.”

Tao looked at him straight in the eyes.

“You did it. This is great, Tao. Do you know how thrilled Yixing is going to be?”

Tao remained quiet.

“Thank you. After so many years, he’s going to be so happy. But, how is she? Does she still have a dangerous crime coefficient? Do you think… Her watch will turn white again?”

“Junmyeon,” Tao said faintly.

“Because if she is, then that’s even greater! We won’t have to set her free, Tao, we’ll avoid breaking the law and then could simply wait a little more time until she’s free. Yixing has waited for so long, but I know he’d understand that. He’ll-

“Junmyeon,” Tao said louder this time.

Junmyeon hadn’t even realized that he had smiled through his words, enthusiastically talking about his sister-in-law and again thinking of how happy Yixing would be. But Tao’s face made him taken aback.

“What?”

“She’s dead.”

Two words, that was all it took for Junmyeon’s newfound joy to die. It was now the images of a sad, hurt, crying, Yixing that ached… Actually, ached his heart.

“Wha-what?”

Tao sighed. “She died. She’s been dead for years.”

“What? How?”

At that question, Tao leaned forward, his face contorted with seriousness. “Junmyeon, I’m about to tell you things of so much utter confidentiality, that you cannot, ever, tell anyone else.”

“But-”

“This has to stay between us. Just like how you’ve kept the Emotion Watch’s secret all these years, you have to do the same here.”

Junmyeon would have immediately nodded before. Right now, though, he hesitated. “What am I going to tell, Yixing? I can’t lie to him anymore.”

Tao’s expression softened a little. “Just… Listen to me first.”

Tao opened his folders. Some had documents, others were handmade records. Most of the papers also were filled with scribbled notes everywhere. Junmyeon couldn’t make sense of what it said. Tao began explaining.

It shouldn’t have taken Tao around six months to find out where Zhang Qian was. Usually, just by typing her name in the Security Department’s database would have been enough to find her case file and whereabouts in mere seconds. That was the problem: her name wasn’t even there. However, Qian had been taken away during odd times in the country. That year’s Leader, Leader Nam, had too many suspicions regarding possible cyber-attacks and whatnots, so to prevent anyone from discovering any vital confidential information, everything related to the System was printed out and archived by hand, no digital trace could be left behind. It was massive step-back from modern society and quite a burdensome task for anyone working for the System. Thankfully, when the current Leader Byun entered his term, seven years ago, he implemented better security policies and defense methods, that the worry for future cyber-attacks dissipated. Storing information digitally and efficiently was restored. But every single case file, be it from the Security Department, Marriage Bureau, or Health Department, had to be transferred to their current databases. Therefore, Tao’s initial suspicion was that Zhang Qian’s file had not been transferred correctly, and she had most likely been released before Leader Byun took over and her record wasn’t relevant anymore to be stored properly. So, nobody noticed or cared about the blunder. That had occurred sometimes. Why she hadn’t contacted her family, Tao couldn’t guess. But he still decided to manually search through the archives, the hundreds of boxes labeled “Z” that had the files stored in no order.

After one and a half months of searching, he had found Zhang Qian’s file (he only had time to search after work, when nobody saw or wondered what he was doing). Tao gasped when he read her crime coefficient: 277. What could she possibly had been thinking for it to be so high? Too bad the file was incomplete. There was only one page with her name, photo, crime coefficient, date and place of admission, but nothing regarding her treatment or even the reasons why she had such a high number. The rest of the pages were missing, and no matter how many times Tao had looked through all the other documents in that damn box (box number 63) he had found nothing.

When Junmyeon looked at Qian’s file, he saw possibly her last photograph ever. She wasn’t smiling, not like in the picture Yixing had of his family on the shelf stand in their living room. But she did resemble her mother a lot, and she had the same eye-shapes as Yixing. Qian didn’t look harmful at all. Junmyeon couldn’t believe how someone like her could be so dangerous.

“What did you do, then?” Junmyeon asked.

“I looked up the place,” Tao answered, averting his eyes to see out the windows.

Admission to a rehabilitation facility usually depended on factors like what type of ‘criminal’ intentions and crime coefficient one had, whether one was thinking of harming themselves or others if it was mental health problems or crime coefficient related. These facilities were often located far away from the nearest community. Qian’s number had been too high, and she had been admitted to a rehabilitation facility that according to the map should have been located on an island. It was strange that the facility’s name didn’t appear on the map and that Tao couldn’t find it in the Security Department’s database. It was almost as if the place had never existed. When Tao looked up old satellite pictures of the island, he compared them with the current ones and noted a drastic difference. The remote rehabilitation facility had indeed been there once upon a time. That only perked up Tao’s interest and he decided to go there to find out more. But he had to wait two more weeks until Yifan had gone on a family trip and he excused himself to stay behind for “work.”

Tao made the trip. But just as the current map had shown, in the address laid a high-school instead. And the rest of the island had become a small town. So, of course, none of the locals would ever know what used to lay on the high-school grounds.

Again, Tao came back empty handed. Two months had passed since his quest began and he only had more questions than he did at the beginning. Yet there was one person who could know what had happened… But Tao wasn’t sure of asking his father for help, not after how he had almost screwed-up things in the past and put himself at risk, along with his family name. His father would question him about everything until he came clean… That would only lead to trouble.

He quickly came up with another plan, though. Tao decided to compile a list of all the active recovery therapists during the year Qian was admitted. One perk of working for the Security Department was that he had access to everyone’s and every type of information. The list ended up being quite long, even after ruling out everyone that had died since then, he ended up with over three thousand names. But Tao was an expert at finding patterns and clues. After reading their resumes over and over, Tao realized around that forty people had started a new job on the exact same date or the same month. That was too much of a coincidence for him. It was odd they all decided to change jobs at the exact same time, most of them were even sent far away from where they had previously worked at. Tao chose to go with his guts and would start with these forty men and women.

He didn’t trust talking on the phone or emailing his questions, he knew it would leave behind traces and his communication would be monitored. So, he looked up the whereabouts of every single person and personally went to see them. One by one, Tao had met with them over the past four months. He had to sneak around and withhold the truth from Yifan (which he hated to do), but Tao hoped this would lead to answers. Another thing Tao was good at was deciphering someone’s body language. Tao could discern those who genially didn’t know what he meant when he asked if they had ever heard the name of the rehabilitation facility, from those who wholeheartedly negated it, holding tight onto the secret. However, he wouldn’t push anyone to tell him anything. That could only raise suspicious towards him. Yet after having met half of the recovery therapists, one person came through. And it all got worse.

Tao had the luck of talking with no other than Zhang Qian’s recovery therapist: Dr. Jang. She was retired now and had decided to work taking care of animals instead (her ninth option). Yet she had felt that Tao coming to meet her was fate giving her a chance for atonement.

What had Qian been thinking to have a crime coefficient of 277?

Nothing. When she had arrived at the rehabilitation facility and she her emotions were checked, she was clear. Her Emotion Watch shone white. But Qian had discovered one of the most well-hidden secrets of the System. She needed to undergo ‘corrective’ therapy until she could swear loyalty to the System and could return to society as an impeccable citizen. And that had been Dr. Jang’s task, make sure to ‘heal’ Qian from her ‘dangerous’ behavior.

“So, she wasn’t a potential criminal? Did they lock her in to keep her quiet? What the hell did she find out?” Junmyeon asked, brows furrowed and filled with confusion.

Tao let out a sigh. “The unreadables. She knew about the unreadables.”

From what Dr. Jang remembered, Qian had come across an unusual group of people in university. All of them had in common their indifference and disbelief in a computer program ruling everyone’s life. When a former student of the Security Department University joined their group, they found gold and learned information that shouldn’t be ever known by outsiders. Besides the Emotion Watches true purpose, what rehabilitation facilities did, and so on, they all knew the System’s major flaw, and that flaw was the ‘unreadables.’

The unreadables, they were an ultra-rare deviation for the System’s algorithmic programs to calculate a crime coefficient. All the data gathered from the biological readings of an unreadable showed no alterations whatsoever. An unreadable could feel angry, nervous, outraged, stressed, afraid, and all sorts of challenging emotions, yet it would never display on their watches. The System couldn’t calculate anything because there weren’t any signs of mood change. Therefore, their crime coefficient was always zero regardless of how they felt, and the Security Department got never alerted to any danger.

Why were these human beings omitted from the System’s biological readings? Even to this day, it was unknown what caused the alteration. Many thought it may be due to a superior gene, a strange mutation that protected them, their physiology, from the System’s biological readings. But it was out of the question to experiment on those people to get questions. Regardless of the reason why it occurred, it was ultra-rare. Maybe one per two million habitants were born with that deviation.

An unreadable had too much power in them and could be the biggest danger out there. This was proven by the fact that the most challenging criminal cases in the history of the Security Department had been caused by unreadables. Long ago, some unreadables had noticed their superiority and took advantage of it in a dangerous way. Atrocities were committed, citizens had been hurt, and ultimately the Security Department agreed that seclusion of these individuals was the safest option. A top security facility, almost like a prison, had been built on the island under the name of a new ‘rehabilitation’ facility. There weren’t any proper procedures to catch every unreadable, though, not when some people were innately good at keeping their emotions at bay. The fastest way to catch unreadables was when they themselves wondered why their watches never changed colors. The Health Department notified it to the Security Department, who had machinery and tests that more accurately could rule out whether it was an unreadable or not.

This had been going on for ages by the time Qian and her group of friends found out. Obviously, Qian and the group found it unfair that the citizens didn’t know that the Emotion Watches actually determined whether they’ll be criminals or potential criminals. Neither was it humane to lock in people that may or not become a treat for everyone else. They wanted to make the year’s biggest exposé, so people wouldn’t blindly trust everything the machine dictated and liberate all the innocent unreadables. And given the warnings from the former student at the Security Department University, they kept all traces of their plans and their communication away from any digital artifact.

But someone changed their mind, or someone must have found out about their plan because the Security Department got informed. And sure enough, when the assigned investigators took a closer look at the group, they learned everything about their exposé. Preventive measures were made, and Qian along with the others ended up being classified as the most dangerous potential criminals, apprehended on the grounds of treachery against the System. Of course, their families had no idea about this but were given other reasons for their lockdown (too much mental stress had Qian’s excuse been).

It was impossible to manually control and manipulate the numbers of the Emotion Watches, to prevent anyone from taking advantage of the function. Only the System could calculate and assign the numbers. But if one’s Emotion Watch was worn by somebody else, then their biological readings and gathered data could pass as one own. Meaning, it only took someone with a crime coefficient of 277 to wear Qian’s watch for her to be cataloged as a potential criminal. That was actually how unreadables were apprehended. And that was why Qian had an index of zero when her state was measured at the island, where ironically, she was locked in along with the unreadables. From there on, the only thing Qian had to do was to undergo ‘corrective’ therapy until she accepted everything the Security Department was doing was for everyone’s safety, for everyone’s best interest. She was determined, though. Qian refused to submit into her ‘corrective’ therapy. She didn’t want to let the fight die that easily.

Until a year had passed, and that dreadful night occurred. A fire happened. It was supposed to be a distraction from trying to free an unreadable from their seclusion. A Security Department officer was found responsible for it. But the fire went out of hand and widespread far too fast than expected. And while most recovery therapist and officers had gotten into safety, including the escapees, there wasn’t much time to help unlock all the unreadables and the ‘radical’ group of people trapped inside. Help didn’t arrive on time either. The victims turned out to be all the unreadables at the time and all the people undergoing ‘corrective’ therapy, Qian and the ones that remained of her group along with other people.

Dr. Jang had been there that day. She had seen it happen before her eyes. Usually, when a patient dies during treatment (with almost never occurred), the rehabilitation facility notified their families. However, in these case, there was a lot to lose. Evidently, Leader Nam instructed everyone that survived to never, ever reveal what had happened that day. No one could ever know what secrets had laid on the island.

So, that was the story Dr. Jang told Tao. For years she had felt guilty and wanted to tell Qian’s family about her fate. But she never did, afraid of what might happen to her and everyone involved. With Tao, she felt it was fate giving her a chance to finally tell the truth.

Once Junmyeon let all of Tao’s story sink in, he still couldn’t believe his ears. He stared at Tao flabbergasted, appalled, distraught by the secrets this country kept in the dark, by once defending what he ought to believe was for everyone’s best. He couldn’t form any words of the thoughts that wildly ran through his mind.

“Junmyeon,” Tao said, voice stern, “You can’t tell anyone any of this. Nothing. Not a word.”

Junmyeon could only raise one eyebrow as a response.

Tao looked through his folders again until he found a paper. “Look, her aptitude test was stored in the Education Department’s archives. These are Qian’s answers. I have her handwriting. I can ask someone to falsify a goodbye letter to her family. She ‘wrote’ it before managing to escape from her rehabilitation facility. We can say she ran away and is safe somewhere in the world out there. But nobody knows where she is.”

Junmyeon scoffed. He shook his head and let out a laugh in disbelief at Tao’s suggestion.

“Yixing doesn’t need to know every detail, but I can make up false records of her being in an actual rehabilitation facility. I can figure out an excuse for how she ‘managed to escape.’ Nobody told her family anything because it was an embarrassing scandal. It was better if they believed she was still-”

“Tao, are you listening to yourself?” Junmyeon finally found the words to speak.

“I know, it’s not the most credible option, but it’s the only one.”

“The only one? What about the one in which we say this country is so ed up that we keep ‘unreadables,’ people! People, Tao, locked in against their will? What about the fact that to keep all these secrets hidden innocent people got basically imprisoned and lost their lives? Why can’t we tell that one?!”

Tao closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “The unreadables’ isolation… Those were a dark time for everyone involved. But, when Leader Byun took over, he and my father implemented new policies that allowed the unreadables to be in the same place as those who need recovery therapy. They’re not locked in anymore. They can have the same freedom as those who are recovering. Some of them even help us in the Security Department when dealing with cases involving other dangerous unreadables. There is a whole section that works with them, and albeit they have to be under watch, they have some freedom.”

“Are you seriously justifying those actions? Defending them? Just admit the System is useless in that case.”

“Junmyeon, our society relies on death penalty. Everyone knows that the moment they commit a crime they’re sentenced to death, they don’t know how we know or how it happens, but nobody ends up locked in anymore because we don’t have prisons. But there will always be crime. Crimes in which people might end up getting hurt. Our main goal is to prevent people from committing those types of crimes. Which is why,” Tao said, holding up his wrist and pointing at his watch, “We have these. So, we can help people avoid doing atrocities that can harm another person. Of course, during impulsive situations, you still yield into committing a crime and the System sentences you to death. But that doesn’t always happen. The System works. It’s flawed, yes, and some unsuitable preventive measures were taken to keep the secret, but overall, it serves its purpose. We are not abolishing crime, but we’re fighting it efficiently. Why do you think our crime rates are one of the lowest compared to other countries?”

“Are you saying that to convince yourself or me?”

Tao didn’t answer. He looked away.

Junmyeon shook his head. He stood up from his seat and paced around the office. “That doesn’t vindicate everyone involved. It still doesn’t take away the fact that Qian and all those other people died!”

“That was a terrible mishap. But it taught us to adopt more preventing measures when dealing with emergencies. Every rehabilitation facility now has modern hospital equipment and a fire station nearby. And we don’t just allow whoever to get admitted to SDU or any other governmental university anymore. Only those who are truly loyal, suitable physically and mentally for it and have it as their first option get in. So no information can get out. Cases like the impulsive officer that set the fire to liberate their partner, which by the way we eventually caught, it won’t happen again. It hasn’t happened ever since. Their sacrifice wasn’t in vain.”

“Sacrifice? Sacrifice? Don’t say it as if they wanted to die!”

“Calm down, Junmyeon.”

Junmyeon looked at his wrist and saw the watch shining yellow. All the pent-up rage was reflecting. He exhaled and inhaled, trying to push everything away, hold it in as he had done before. It worked, and the watch turned white again.

“I can’t keep this secret from Yixing. I can’t lie to his face and say his sister is alive somewhere when she’s been dead all this time.”

Tao stood up. He put his hands on the desk. “Why can’t you just lie to him? It was your idea from the beginning, just do the same now.”

Junmyeon squeezed his hand into fists. “Because I was a heartless before, a complete prick. And I don’t want to keep being that way around him. Not when he loves…”

“But can’t you see what he’ll do? He’s probably just like her. Yixing won’t stay with his arms crossed and accept that his sister is dead if we don’t tell him why. He’ll want to reach to the bottom of everything. And he won’t accept all the errors that were committed. He’ll try to do something about it, maybe even expose everything.”

“And? I think that would be the best damn choice.”

“He-he can be locked in, Junmyeon. We all could be locked in for treachery if this ever comes out. Don’t you think they’ll make the right connections and figure everything out? You can be locked in. I can be locked in. He will be locked in! These secrets are far bigger than us than our influence.”

Junmyeon stopped walking around and sat down on the armchair again. He pulled his hair in frustration. “Is this what I’m running for, Tao? Become the Leader of this Nation and discover all these horrible things about this country? What else will I find under the rug? Will I become as cruel as all those other leaders?”

Tao sighed. “It’s not… Easy. It requires a mental strength to cope with everything. A strong sense of loyalty and obedience. I’m guessing you had it in you and that’s one of the reasons you were chosen. But I know you. I know you’ll make the right choices, unlike the others.”

In the past maybe Junmyeon wouldn’t have cared much about finding out these things. He would have shrugged his shoulders and moved on with his life. But Yixing had unlocked all these sides he had kept buried all these years. And now he couldn’t bear himself to continue to ignore the knowledge that this was all… Wrong.

“I can’t lie to Yixing. How could I ever keep this away from him? It’s his sister. After all these years, he deserves to know the truth.”

Tao suddenly stood next to him. He put a hand on Junmyeon’s shoulder. “Junmyeon, I think you know better than anyone the feeling of losing a sibling. Perhaps we can spare Yixing this suffering. But more than anything else, we can spare ourselves from getting into trouble and end up losing everything.”

Junmyeon looked up. “Nothing can ever spare us the suffering of losing a sibling.”

Tao nodded meekly. “Then, please, Junmyeon, now I’m the one asking you to help me and keep this a secret. My family almost got into trouble once because of me. I can’t let my father and Yifan down again. Please… We’re friends.”

His heart shouted that he must be honest with Yixing, he had promised not to lie to him again. The uncertainty would only pain Yixing. But his mind couldn’t shake off the reminder that he and Tao had been friends for years. Friends, even when Junmyeon had thought nobody would ever want to be around him. He couldn’t possibly throw away that. Tao had risked a lot these last couple of months until he had dug up the whole truth. And maybe Tao did have a point. If Yixing reacted negatively, all of them could lose everything. He hated himself for this, he felt that sickening feeling that reminded him he was despicable. Nevertheless, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll keep quiet.”

Tao let out a sigh of relief. He enveloped his arms around him in a side hug. “Thank you, thank you. This is for all of our sakes. Remember that.”

How would he ever manage to live with this feeling?

Junmyeon didn’t go home after his talk with Tao. No, he parked his car near the river and sat on a bench, watching it flow. His heart raced, his hands sweated too much. And that horrible feeling couldn’t be shaken away. It kept reminding him of what a terrible person he continued being. If only he… Before thinking deeper into the past, Junmyeon decided to face his fears.

By the time Junmyeon got back to the apartment, it was already the late afternoon. He stepped into the living room and saw Sohee and Dongwon sleeping on the couch. Yixing looked up from the book he was reading. Those sweet, deep, dimples greeted him. Yixing stood up and went to kiss him.

“Everything, good?”

Junmyeon nodded.

“I saved you some food. Come, I’ll warm it for you.”

Yixing took his hand and got ready to walk forward, but Junmyeon wouldn’t move. He gave Junmyeon a questioning look.

“Yixing.”

“What, love?”

“I…” As he stared at Yixing’s beautiful brown eyes, ‘I know, I know, I know,’ his lips wanted to voice out, his mind haunted him with Qian’s last picture. But Junmyeon couldn’t, he just couldn’t.

“I’m so glad you’re here,” Junmyeon said.

The deep hatred intensified, the guilt he had wanted to ignore appeared again, swallowing all of him. Jaemin’s last words resonated in his head. And not even when Yixing jumped forward and held him in a warm, comforting hug, did any of it die out.

“I am too.”