DAY 5

                “Eunji! Perfect, I was told I would find you here.” Yoona approached you as you paid for your morning coffee, and you squinted at the coffee cart guy as if he was the one who ratted you out. He shrugged, looking startled at Yoona’s surprise appearance, and you lessened, letting him off the hook for now.

                You turned to her, “Yoona, it’s good to see you.” You could have done without it though. While your hangover wasn’t awful, you still had work to do and you didn’t want to have another discussion about discipline.

                “I was wondering if you would like to come up and see my subject?”

                Baekhyun? “Really, what for?”

                She waved an airy hand, “Oh Mr. Im thought it might be a good idea for me to have you in for just a small minute, just to give you a glimpse of how I handle things.”

                Of course he had. But backed into a corner, it wasn’t like you could refuse “Erm, sure, yeah, that’d be great, thanks.”

                “Perfect, come on up.”

                Or, you were going now? Right, no time like the present. Coffee in hand, you followed the older woman to the elevator, eyeing it uncomfortably as the doors closed you in. You were never a fan of elevators. It wasn’t that you were afraid of them, but it never failed to be as awkward as possible. Like now, you and Yoona were stood side by side, completely silent. Were you supposed to say something, small talk, look at the screen showing what floor you were on, look at the floor? It was always just so awkward, so you just took the stairs instead. Thankfully, the doors opened on the seventh floor and you stepped out quickly.

                “Am I even allowed to be up here?” You asked, following her through bright clean hallways that looked identical to the ones on the sixth floor. Technically, you didn’t have clearance to be here.

                She waved her hand again, “no one will know, just don’t swipe your card on anything. Besides, this is our case, we can do what we want.” She swiped into room 704, into an observation room identical to what you were familiar with. The holding chamber was identical as well except for a key detail. There was no man lying on the bed. Instead, a charming looking man was sat at the desk, eyes on the glass, waiting.

                You stood next to Yoona behind the glass, just surveying Baekhyun for a moment.

                “I’ve been coming in at the same time for 5 days, and he caught on to it at day 2. I’m not sure how he’s telling time in there, but that’s the least of our problems.” She gave a chuckle, “you’ll see what I mean in a minute. Just take a seat here where you can see and watch.

                You nodded, sitting quietly into a chair behind the glass, and watched her step confidently into the holding room, taking her place opposite Baekhyun.

                “How are you feeling this morning?” She began.

                “Like the luckiest man in the world, to be able to gaze upon thy lovely face.”

                She ignored his comment, “We’ll carry on where we left off yesterday. What were you doing with the girl, on the day you were taken into custody.”

                “Marrying her.”

                “Is that so?”

“Oh yeah. She’s a beautiful girl, we’ve been in love for decades.”

You snorted, Baekkhyun barely looked 20.

“I can imagine her family frowned on the union.”

“Not at all.”

“They don’t mind promising their daughter to a pathetic common thief.”

“Nah, they love me.” He winked, not rising to Yoona. He leaned closer, eyes strong on hers “Not as much as I love you though. I spend every night thinking of what I want to do to you.”

You felt a blush rising on your cheeks, somehow it felt… intimate? Like you were trespassing. His voice had dropped and was all smooth chocolate and promises, and he knew how to work the garish cell light in his favour. He sounded like a lover, and you barely considered there was more too it before you saw him shift in his seat, the sleeves of the jumpsuit inching up his wrist.

The skin was almost black with bruising, his wrists were already thin enough to look dainty and fragile, but with that much damage… did the rest of him look like this? If this was already the discipline they were being given, how could it possibly be increased? Would they even survive through it now that Mr. Im had ordered the increase?

Now his words took a whole new meaning, now it was a threat. It sent a shiver up your spine at the thought of how he’d caressed the words like a lover, at the way he thought about hurting Yoona.

Chen might be irritating, and he may have spooked you, but Baekhyun felt dangerous, maybe they had given you the easiest one of the bunch after all.

He sat back, “I have to take a piss.” He said, looking directly at Yoona, challenging her.

“Go ahead.” She said, “it’s right behind you.”

Baekhyun raised a brow, apparently this wasn’t a game they had played yet. He stood and turned to the toilet, ped the jumpsuit and-

You averted your eyes, looking back at Yoona, seeing how she stared right at the man as he urinated until he returned to the table.

Yoona had more balls than you, apparently.

 “Would you have preferred I piss on you?” He asked as he sat back at the table, “Looks like you’re into that.”

You’d been sat there for exactly an hour until Yoona stood up and returned to you, and you held your breath for those few dangerous seconds when she lingered by the door with her back to him. Guard down, he looked downright predatory, fists clenching as if he imagined lunging at her and wrapping those dainty fingers around .

But then she was safely out, door locked behind her, and smiling at you.

“Why did you do that?” You asked, “he looked about to murder you!”

She laughed, “Oh he won’t, not yet. He’ll try to get information out of me first about his friends. And if you show him that even an old woman can turn her back on him now without fear, well, it really hits his ego. And what are these men without that?”

Again, she had more balls than you.

“He’s quite the silver-tongued one, isn’t he?” She asked, looking at where he was laying on the bed, eyes closed and peaceful. Even in this position there was such a stark difference between him and Chen. With Chen there was always some sort of movement, a grin, tapping fingers, a bouncing foot, Baekhyun lay still in a way that reminded you of sleeping beauty, all delicate features and pale skin. Honestly, it creeped you out. 

“Mmm.” You agreed, he certainly had been. You hesitated, before asking, “So you had him disciplined?”

“Oh yes, I’ve had him disciplined every night, you have to when they’re not cooperating, how else do you expect them to learn? Come on, I’ll take you down to the first floor.”

It was a quiet trip to the first floor, Yoona apparently content that she’d shown you ‘how it was done’, and you spared no time breaking off from her to grab a coffee to ease your mind. The line was longer now, it was nearing lunch, so you just added yourself to the back of it and slowly shuffled forward with every completed purchase.

Could you treat Chen like Yoona treated Baekhyun? Could you stand to watch him go to the bathroom? Baekhyun had barely looked bothered, but you couldn’t say the same for yourself. It wasn’t the act itself, though you had zero interest in watching, you’d really rather not, but it was so… degrading. It was treating them like animals, stripping them of basic human decencies, and honestly, you didn’t know if you were made of strong enough stuff to do it. What else? Deny him food and water, make him sleep on the floor? Breaking someone to get information out of them was an interrogation strategy, but only when you could be sure they could put themselves back together after. These men weren’t about to break under something like that, they would have to be shattered beyond repair.

                You were almost at the front of the line now.

                How were you going to proceed? Were you going to sign on and request a discipline session for Chen, see how he was in the morning? Were you going to bow to the techniques expected of you?

                No. You were made of more than that.

You were better than that.

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                Recorder going, you walked calmly into the holding room. You didn’t say anything, didn’t ask anything of him. You sat at the table and put down the two coffees you had bought, the two forks you had grabbed from the cafeteria, and opened the lunch you had hastily packed this morning.

You began eating.

You knew he’d be curious, and it wasn’t long before he showed it, shuffling over and sitting at the table with you.

“What are you doing?” He asked, eyebrow raised, head cocked.

“Eating lunch, obviously.” You said, taking another bite, hoping you sounded nonchalant. You were nervous about this decision, and you could only hope it played off well.

He looked at you for a long moment, saying nothing.

“I got you a coffee.” You said, nudging the second cup forwards, along with the extra fork. “And you can have some lunch if you want.”

Hesitantly, his fingers gripped the plastic fork, pressing his thumb at the top to test its strength. He narrowed his eyes at you, “You’re not supposed to give me weapons.”

“It’s a plastic fork, forgive me if I’m not trembling.”

“I could kill you with this.” He said.

“I don’t doubt.” You met his gaze, “but then I wouldn’t be able to bring you more coffee.”

He held your gaze for a long moment, and you could feel your heart beating with every second, but then his lips split into a grin and you knew you were safe. He stabbed the fork into your lunch, eating a giant mouthful. Maybe you should have made more.

But on that note, how often does he get fed? You realised you didn’t actually know. You knew you could request for his food to be withheld, but that was it.

“Did you make this?” He asked, mouth full.

You nodded, “this morning.”

“It .”

You laughed, “I know.” You were a crap cook, always had been. Left over rice, peppers, and broccoli, that was all you’d shoved into the container before running for the bus. Food quality wasn’t the highest on your priority list, it was fine as long as it was edible. You ended up missing lunch most days anyway.

“You eat this every day?”

You shook your head, “Usually just coffee.”

“I can see why,” he said, finishing the food nonetheless. He took the lid off the coffee, sniffing it suspiciously. “You drink it first.”

You’d expected something like this, and he had every reason to be doubtful of your gesture, which was why you humoured him, taking a large gulp of both cups of coffee.

“See, not poisoning you.”

He took a cautious sip, eyes closing briefly as he savoured the taste.

In the theme of isolation, the food he was given would be bland and tasteless. The food you’d given him probably hadn’t been much better. The coffee, however, was bitter and sharp, and hot. This was from the bottom of the pot, so it had a burned aftertaste that stayed on your tongue long after you’d finished it. This was probably the most defined thing he’d had since his arrest.

You drank in silence until both cups were empty, not a drop left clinging to the bottom.

“How was it?” You asked, “I wasn’t sure if you were a coffee drinker.”

“Think I’d prefer tea? That’s a sissy drink.”

You grinned, “I agree, black coffee or nothing. Though this is pretty awful. I always wanted to go on a coffee tour of Europe.”

“Europe?”

                You nodded, “Finland drinks the most coffee per person in the world. Plus you’ve got France and Spain, Europe is the place to be for coffee.”

                He paused, looking at you curiously, “aren’t you going to get in trouble for this?”

                “Why would I?”

                “Well I doubt your department is happy about you buying me coffee and sharing your crappy lunch.”

Yoona’s words echoed in your mind. It’s our case, we can do what we want.

“Who says they have to know?” You knew he understood, his eyes immediately jerking to the upper corners of the room. They were smooth and white, no different from the rest of the room, but no doubt he expected something to be hidden there.

                “There’s no cameras in these rooms. No one is watching us. I told you on the first day, it’s only a vocal recording while I’m in here with you, there’s nothing else.”

                He looked incredulous, “yeah right. Like they’d leave you in here without supervision.”

                You shrugged, “They trust I can handle myself, and they don’t want anything on tape that might be ethically-questionable.”

                He was still looking at you wide eyed, “so I could take this weapon,” he gripped the fork in his hand, “and I could kill you,” he pointed it at you, “and no one would see it?”

                You held his gaze, heart beating like a lambs, “right.”

                “How can you-”

                “I’m trusting you not to.”

                Silence hung in the air between you, until he dropped the fork back on the table and leaned back in his chair.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” He asked.

                “Hmm?”

                “Interrogating, trying to get information out of someone? It’s pretty obvious.”

                “How so?”

                He gestured to the table, “you’re sitting having lunch, sharing your lunch with me, unsupervised! Where are the whips and knives and threats?”

                You paused, “You’re a human being and I think you deserve to be treated like one. That’s the only difference.”

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Taking some chances, now just have to hope it all pays off!