Yixing flinched backwards, and Zitao's fist flew past his face in the space his head had occupied a fraction of a second earlier. What was Joonmyun thinking, making him spar with Zitao again? He was nowhere near skilled enough to even offer a challenge. But Yixing knew why. Zitao was the best in his class, and there was a lot to learn when you fought against those who were better than you. The boy was a year younger than him, at eleven, but far surpassed him in martial arts.

And he didn't hold back, Yixing thought as Zitao pivoted on his left foot and drove his right leg into Yixing's side. He collapsed to the concrete floor and quickly rolled to the side, hearing Zitao's forceful stomp miss his body by millimeters. It didn't matter though. The next one connected painfully with his chest, and he cried out.

Then the beating began. Yixing would argue that he didn't learn anything from getting punched to a pulp every week, but Joonmyun wouldn't stop Zitao from it.

Yixing curled up in a ball on the ground, protecting himself as best as he could with his bruised and weakened arms. Zitao straddled his stomach and, after a hand signal from Joonmyun, unleashed a flurry of punches. Yixing blocked the first few to his face, but then a fist to his stomach brought his arms down reflexively, uncovering his face. The next blow would give him a black eye. He could feel it swelling up as Zitao's fist crashed into the side of his jaw.

"That's good," Joonmyun said eventually as Zitao tired, punches slowing and losing some force.

Yixing still hurt like hell though.

Zitao nodded and got off Yixing, stepping to the side. Joonmyun came closer to check the extensity of his injuries. "Not much better than last time," he said.

Yixing deflated.

Joonmyun pursed his lips. "You did last longer this time though," he admitted.

Although his lip was split, Yixing somehow managed a weak smile for a few seconds. The short, underhanded compliment meant that he was improving. And he needed to improve. The Order had taken him off the streets a year ago, saving him from a life riddled with starvation and disease, to make him into an assassin. He didn't know why they had chosen him, didn't know what they had seen in the skinny kid slumped by the wall, barely able to reach out and beg for change. But they had taken him in, and he was grateful.

His classes were mostly made up of similar kids, orphans, street rats. And the classes ranked them. If he wasn't improving, he'd be dumped back onto the streets. If he wasn't worth their time, they'd kick him out. It was simple and easy to understand. The Order had saved his life, and it was merely his turn to prove himself capable of returning the favor.

Yixing dragged himself out of the large ring, smearing the chalk-drawn line. Jongin went to stand in his place. Zitao retreated to the side to take a break while Luhan stepped in. He had gotten more training than anyone else, as the son of one of the directors of the Order. He was considerably faster than Zitao. His fighting style was less stylish and more direct. Yixing had never seen Luhan and Zitao spar, but he'd bet on Luhan.

As Jongin lunged forwards in a smooth motion with a punch, Luhan ducked into his reach, knocked Jongin's right arm to the side with his left forearm, and his right palm to Jongin's chin, coming out of a crouch for more power. Within seconds the fight was over. Jongin fell, unconscious.

"Well," Joonmyun said, "I'm not quite sure he's assassin material." He looked at Luhan. "Should we give him another chance?"

Luhan shrugged, flexing his right wrist. "I may have gone too hard on him."

"One more chance then." Joonmyun paused. "Class dismissed for tonight. Get some rest, kids. Luhan, Yixing, take Jongin to Minseok. Yixing, don't forget to ask him to take a look at you too."

The two of them carried Jongin between them to the one-man infirmary that was Minseok's room. There were no windows – the entire concrete complex was underground – but the hallways and most of the rooms were lit with fluorescent strips of light. Nothing masked the fact that the place was all business.

Minseok had them put Jongin in the large cot that took up half of the small room. He quickly checked Jongin's pulse and gestured for Yixing to sit down in the only chair. Luhan stood in the doorway waiting.

"The usual sparring with Zitao?" Minseok asked, prodding his face none too gently.

Yixing winced and nodded. "Lasted longer this time though."

Minseok tsked. "Got beat up more this time." He dabbed a particularly bloody cut on Yixing's face.

After deeming most of Yixing's cuts to be superficial and bandaging the ones that weren't, Minseok send Yixing out with a bag of ice and orders to hold it against swollen areas, namely his eye. The other bruises, as always, would fade in time.

Yixing stumbled out through the doorway, bag of ice held firmly against the right side of his face, serving both his right eye and his lower jaw at the same time. Luhan steadied him with a hand to the elbow and then let go as soon as Yixing had regained his footing.

"Hey," Luhan said in a soft whisper, stopping Yixing before the dorms where the hallway split. "Meet me in the combat room in two hours." And without waiting for a reply, he turned down the hall on the left, where his dorm was.

Yixing stood at the hallway intersection, confused. Why did Luhan want to meet him, at night, in the combat room? Was it a challenge? Did he just want to beat Yixing up? Yixing knew Luhan like he knew all the other trainees at the Order. They were in the same boat, but by no means were they friends. He knew that Luhan two years older than him, and he was good – good at hand-to-hand combat, good with knives, good at everything really.

It could be dangerous to go, since he didn't know what Luhan wanted, and he was tired. But at the same time, Luhan seemed to have good intentions. Or at least that was what Yixing convinced himself. He didn't want to get on Luhan's bad side, especially after seeing what he could do to Jongin.

In the end, Yixing found himself slipping out of his bunk two hours later mainly because of curiosity. In a room full of assassin trainees, though, it was impossible to sneak out unnoticed.

"Where are you going?" Jongin murmured from his bunk beside Yixing's. He had come back from the infirmary a few minutes ago.

"Bathroom," Yixing whispered back.

Jongin mumbled an unintelligible response and turned over in his bunk, back facing Yixing now. If he had opened his eyes, he would have seen that Yixing hadn't even changed out of his training clothes. But training was hard on everyone, and he was back asleep before Yixing left the room.

Yixing made his way down the bright hallway, using a lesson he had learned in one of his classes. Walk like you belong, and you will belong. He doubted he would be caught. The Order was against leaving the compound, but had no official rules against going to facilities after hours. In any case, trainees and instructors liked their sleep.

Yixing paused when he reached the combat room though. The lights were turned off inside, and a small square of light illuminated the floor of the combat room through the window in the door. He pushed the door handle down and opened the door. The fluorescent light from the hallway spilled into the room, bright enough for Yixing to see the blur of a fist headed straight for his face.

There was no time to dodge, so Yixing just closed his eyes and waited for the pain. When none came, he tentatively opened his eyes and peered into the darkness.

"You're too slow," Luhan said. He had pulled his punch at the last second, and now pulled Yixing into the room. The door shut with a light click.

Once again, before Yixing could respond, Luhan threw another punch. Yixing flung his arms up in a messy block but wasn't fast enough. He felt the soft tap of Luhan's fist against his ribs. And then Luhan moved again, foot lightly hitting the back of Yixing's knee in a hooked position.

"What are you doing?" Yixing asked, desperately backing away.

Luhan didn't respond, only increasing the speed of his attack.

Yixing got into the groove. He stopped retreating and began sparring defensively with Luhan. It was all he could do to just block Luhan's strikes, and some of them still came through to make light jabs against his body. It was nice not to have the full force of a hit, but Yixing didn't tire any less.

Luhan slowed his movements, at first only a little and then more noticeably, but Yixing wasn't sure if Luhan was tired like him or if he simply figured he would lighten up on Yixing a bit. Yixing used the opportunity to throw in some more offensive moves. He wasn't as good at pulling his punches though, and some of his hits made solid contact with Luhan, although Luhan showed no sign of pain.

They fought into the back side of the room, and to Yixing, Luhan was just another dark shadow in the room. But to Luhan, Yixing was outlined in a thin halo of fluorescent light from the hallway. It was easy for him to sink a fist into Yixing's ribs at full strength.

Yixing stumbled backwards, not expecting the sheer force after the light sparring. He should have known better though. Why would Luhan spar and go easy on him? Speaking of which...

"Did you want me to come so you could beat me up?" Yixing hacked up the words, struggling to get up on his feet before Luhan started attacking again.

Luhan sat down on the floor beside him. "No." He paused and stared at the ground between his legs. "I wanted you to come so I could teach you."

Yixing looked up in surprise, forgetting the pain in his ribs for a second. "Teach me?"

Luhan nodded.

"Why?"

"Because..." Luhan studied Yixing's face for a while. "I like you the most out of your class, and I think you have the most potential."

Yixing furrowed his eyebrows. Trainees from the older classes were allowed to do that?

Luhan saw the question in his eyes and smiled. "It's technically not against the rules." He got up and offered a hand to Yixing.

Yixing took it.

"Meet me here same time tomorrow?" Luhan asked, for the first time waiting for a response.

Yixing nodded. He watched as Luhan left the combat room, wondering what Luhan would teach him.

¤¤¤

A lot, it turned out. Enough and more to rise up the ranks in his class. When Yixing wasn't sparring with Zitao, he sparred with Jongin, whose fighting style verged on dancing. And while Zitao was amazing with his martial arts, Luhan's speed and dexterity were incredible, and learning from him, Yixing eventually managed to best Zitao in the ring, although it was more of a lucky break than a matter of skill. He was improving though.

The next day, Joonmyun showed him to the indoor shooting range apart from the rest of the trainees in his class. They'd have to prove themselves before being able to try out the firearms that would be in consistent use as an assassin. By that point, like Yixing, they would be committed to the Order, committed to their future, committed to their targets. The Order wouldn't waste ammunition on trainees who were not committed.

As good as Yixing had become at hand-to-hand combat, he was ten times better with a sniper rifle. Zitao could beat him hand-to-hand nine times out of ten, but Yixing could shoot a pea-sized target from 200 meters nine times out of ten. That day, for the first time, Yixing had seen a look of genuine pride on Joonmyun's face.

A few hours later, as the rest of the dorm drifted off to sleep, Yixing left for the combat room as he did every night. He pushed the door open and waited for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Luhan was sitting against the wall on the opposite side of the room. Yixing walked over and sat next to him. Luhan reflexively wrapped an arm around Yixing, pulling him closer, and Yixing leaned his head against Luhan's shoulder. He didn't know how it had gotten to this point, but now their late night training sessions had more cuddling than sparring.

After a while, Luhan said, "I heard you shoot well."

"Not as well as you can fight," Yixing said.

"You'll be an assassin then," Luhan murmured into his hair.

Yixing smiled, although Luhan couldn't see it. "Just like you." He hesitated, and then asked, "That shouldn't be a problem, right? I mean... us."

Luhan was silent for a moment. "It's technically not against the rules."

Yixing accepted the statement, and the two of them just sat together against the wall for the rest of the night. It was the first of many nights spent sleeping instead of sparring in the combat room.

And it worked, more perfectly than Yixing could've imagined. Sparring with Luhan had become less of a fight and more of a dance that the two of them performed each night, especially with them both pulling blows at the last second. But the nights spent laying next to Luhan, despite the hard floors and smell of sweat in fused in the room, were more comfortable than sleeping in the dorms beside Jongin's snores.

Five years went by, and Yixing became the best sharpshooter in the Order. Luhan was an assassin and had killed a number of targets with knives and various poisons before Yixing also graduated and met with Yifan, the briefing director who assigned targets.

Yixing's first target was a forty-year-old private investigator who had been hired to dig up information about the bank that was the front for the Order's headquarters.

In the morning, Yixing went underground to the weapons room and received his custom-built sniper rifle, placed neatly in its case, from Jongdae before going back to the apartment he shared with Luhan for breakfast. In the afternoon, he studied his target's file and then took the elevator up to the roof of his apartment building and set up his rifle. He waited for the investigator to enter the bank, search for evidence, and leave before he shot the man in the back of the head. And in the evening, he went for a walk in the park neaby with Luhan, who had poisoned a politician's morning coffee the day before.

They entered a routine typical to assassins of the Order. They would go in to receive a target in the morning, carry out the hit within twenty-four hours, take a day off, and then return to the bank the next morning. On rare occasions, an assassin would be dispatched abroad to assist an international branch of the Order.

Yixing had insisted that they at least try to alternate on and off days so that one of them would be there to welcome the other home each day. Luhan had rolled his eyes at first, but Yixing could tell that he appreciated Yixing being there to open the door for him and check his cuts and bruises.

Since Yixing performed most of his assassinations from afar with his sniper rifle, he would return home spotless and without a scratch. But Luhan preferred to take out his targets face to face. It was what he said, but Yixing knew it was mostly because he wasn't much of a shot. There was no denying Luhan's hand-to-hand combat, but he would often return with superficial wounds and sometimes even injuries bad enough to warrant extra days off to recover. It would throw off their schedule sometimes, but Yixing didn't mind much.

He never worried much about Luhan. He figured Luhan was good enough to take care of himself. They killed for the Order, got hurt for the Order, lived for the Order who had built them into the capable assassins they were. It was a good cause. Not to mention the good pay.

So when Yifan slid the manila folder across the desk, and Yixing opened it to Jongin's face, his first reaction was of confusion. He looked back up to Yifan.

"Jongin has gone rogue and is no longer a part of the Order. He is now your target. You have twenty-four hours," Yifan said.

Yixing nodded, still perplexed, snapped the folder closed, and left. He wasn't going to question the briefing. He and Jongin were not friends, just like Luhan and Zitao were not friends, even if they had sparred quite frequently in class together.

Yixing made the quick walk from the bank to his apartment with Luhan in five minutes. When he entered, Luhan was nowhere to be found. He had gone earlier to receive his own target after taking a few days off to recuperate from the effects of a cut from a poisoned knife.

After eating a small breakfast, Yixing cracked the folder back open and read over Jongin's file, checking the parts of his sniper rifle at the same time.

Name: Kim Jongin

Date of birth: January 14, 1994

Height: 182 cm

Weight: 65 kg

Background: lived on the streets until age nine, former trainee and assassin for the Order, gone rogue

Relations: unknown, deceased

Frequented locations: apartment, bank, warehouse (recent)

Additional details: skilled at hand-to-hand combat; fastest draw in class with a handgun; assigned to target Kim Kyungsoo (influential drug lord) but has joined forces with him instead

The rest of the folder was filled with photos of Jongin from different angles, and a map to the warehouse Kyungsoo's base was likely located. But the most useful thing was a tracking number written on a post-it on the back inside cover of the folder. Yixing typed it into his phone and watched as a small blue dot appeared on the digital map where the warehouse probably was.

Each assassin had a tracking chip implanted beneath the skin at the back of their necks that was near impossible to remove without bleeding out. Each assassin also had a cyanide capsule disguised as a false tooth, but Jongin wasn't likely to crush it in his mouth and commit suicide for Yixing. Still, it would take no effort for him to track Jongin down, and it might have been his easiest target if Jongin wasn't another assassin trained by the Order.

Yixing eased his sniper rifle in its original black hard plastic case into a bigger brown leather briefcase. It was a snug fit, but the briefcase snapped shut easily.

Conveniently, there was an Italian restaurant almost directly across the street. Yixing sauntered in wearing khakis and a button-down collared shirt, lightly swinging his briefcase, and was immediately seated.

A waitress arrived with a small menu, and before she could leave, Yixing asked where the restroom was. She pointed him in the right direction, and Yixing brought his briefcase with him. He wasn't about to leave it unattended at the table, especially with its contents.

Instead of going to the restroom, though, Yixing took a right turn through a heavy door and headed up four flights of narrow metal stairs. He wandered around the fourth floor for a few minutes before finding what he was looking for – a ladder to the roof. A couple of seconds later, Yixing came up through a hatch to the roof.

He took a quick glance at the warehouse. There were a number of large glass windows along the top of the building. Without his scope, Yixing could just barely make out dark figures moving within. He checked his phone again. Jongin was still there, right across the street.

A gentle breeze flowed through the air as Yixing unpacked his sniper rifle, assembling it piece by piece. There was a thick concrete railing at the edge of the roof perfect for Yixing to prop the rifle up on. He looked through the scope and was pleased to find that he could see faces and bodies clearly.

It took Yixing a few minutes of searching through his scope to find Kyungsoo. The man was small but had heart-shaped lips that curved maliciously as he spoke. He stood at the back of the warehouse, flanked by a bodyguard, saying something to another man who was practically the opposite of himself, tall with big ears and lots of teeth.

From there, it was incredibly easy to find Jongin. Yixing shifted his scope upwards diagonally and focused on the bodyguard. Sure enough, it was Jongin.

Yixing smiled. It was almost too easy. He could even have Italian food for lunch afterwards. He moved his sight to right between Jongin's eyes. His finger hooked on the trigger and tightened, prepared to fire. But before he could shoot, Jongin suddenly disappeared.

Yixing loosened his finger off the trigger and adjusted his scope back downwards. It was mayhem.

Kyungsoo lay on the ground twitching with a knife in his chest, and Jongin had tackled another man and was now grappling with him on the floor. Jongin managed to punch the man in the face once before he was kicked back. The other man took the opportunity to stand up, and Yixing finally got a good look at his face.

And even with the split lip and blood smeared on his face, Yixing recognized Luhan.

Yixing was only afforded a split second of shock before Jongin was back on his feet and fighting Luhan again. Watching through the scope brought Yixing back to the memories of Jongin and Luhan sparring in class years earlier, just as he had sparred with Zitao so often.

Luhan, ever direct in his movements, lunged forward in a flash, but Jongin fluidly stepped out of the way. Luhan spun on his heels, fist aimed for Jongin's head, but Jongin ducked under the blow and came up with a punch that Luhan barely dodged. When Luhan tried to drive a shoulder into Jongin's chest, Jongin grabbed him and a knee into Luhan's gut. Just like Yixing knew how Zitao fought, Jongin knew how Luhan fought.

Yixing traced the two in his scope, finger braced against the trigger for any opportunity to shoot Jongin. But they moved too fast, he couldn't take a shot without risking hitting Luhan. But he didn't know if he could watch him slowly lose the fight.

Luhan clutched his stomach and stumbled away. Jongin followed relentlessly, and Luhan threw a few more punches that Jongin easily blocked. Then he flung out a desperate kick that miraculously connected with Jongin's knee. It snapped against the joint, but wasn't strong enough to knock Jongin down. Still, it gave Luhan enough time to catch his breath and recover slightly. But it was still a losing battle.

With the of the sniper rifle snugly against his shoulder, watching Luhan gradually get pummeled by Jongin, Yixing knew he had to risk it. He inhaled and focused. He felt the breeze ruffling the hair at the top of his head. He felt the hard concrete roof he knelt on. He felt the thin piece of curved metal in the hook of his finger. He felt the bullet in its chamber, spinning through the air, burying itself between Jongin's eyes. Yixing envisioned that motion a thousand times in a split second, convincing himself it was real, it had happened. And then he pulled the trigger.

The kick of the rifle knocked Jongin and Luhan out of the scope, but it only took another second for Yixing to find them again.

Luhan pushed himself off the ground and looked at Jongin's body beside him, blood seeping from a small circular hole between his eyes. Then he turned to where the shot had come from, barely making out Yixing's huddled form at the edge of the rooftop. Luhan nodded and left.

Yixing heaved a sigh of relief and disassembled the rifle as fast as he could, placing all the pieces inside the briefcase. He snapped it shut, and then rushed down the ladder and four flights of stairs to meet Luhan across the street.

"Luhan!"

"Yixing." Luhan smiled, pulling Yixing into a hug on the curb. "Thanks for taking care of Jongin."

"He was my target," Yixing said. "I couldn't let you kill him for me."

Luhan laughed. "Kyungsoo was mine."

Yixing nodded in understanding. He didn't know why Jongin had betrayed the Order for Kyungsoo, but he almost felt bad for his former classmate. The feeling vanished with one look at Luhan though. He looked battered with blood dripping down his chin and bruises just beginning to show beneath the skin of his arms. "Come on." He took Luhan's hand. "I have a reservation at an Italian restaurant across the street for lunch. You can clean yourself up, and then we can eat."

Luhan grinned. "That sounds like the perfect date."

¤¤¤

Yixing set up his rifle on the balcony of his hotel room. It was second nature now, and he could easily do it in the darkness before dawn. It was two in the morning, and he settled down in one of the cushioned chairs outside, resting his elbow on the small metal table. His target, Park Chanyeol, had gone into a nightclub on the opposite side of the street. He was the party hard type of guy, which meant that Yixing would have to sit on the balcony and wait into the early hours of the morning for him to come out.

Yixing shivered in the cold night air. He thought of Luhan, sleeping in the hotel bedroom inside, beneath a warm blanket Yixing had just gotten out of. He probably should've gotten something to wear over the black tank top and thin pants he wore to sleep. He couldn't go now and risk missing Chanyeol.

He was scanning the street again, tapping the metal barrel of his rifle lightly, when something hard touched the side of his head and a voice whispered close to his ear. "Don't move."

Yixing froze, finger resting against his rifle. He turned his head ever so slightly, just enough to see a shiny black boot and the edge of black trousers.

"You, sir, are under arrest," the man said, his voice a low growl in Yixing's ear. He stepped forward, finally in Yixing's field of view. A police officer, in a crisp black uniform.

Yixing didn't know how he had gotten in so quietly, but he relaxed considerably. If he was arrested, the Order could easily get him out. He'd likely miss Chanyeol, but they'd give him an additional twenty-four hours after he was released.

The police officer pulled him roughly away from his sniper rifle, and Yixing let him cuff his hands behind his back. They left without disturbing Luhan. The police officer seemed to either not know he was there or not care that he was. Yixing was thankful for that. He didn't want Luhan to miss a few hours of sleep on interrogation at the police station.  Yixing let himself be led peacefully out of the room, down the elevator, and out the front lobby. The receptionist pretended not to see them as they walked out.

But Yixing suddenly began to get the feeling that something wasn't right. There was no police car in sight outside the hotel, only a black car with tinted windows. The hand on his back guided him in that direction.

Yixing bolted. Or at the very least, he tried. Instead, the man, who had probably stolen the uniform, swung a quick arm around Yixing's neck in a chokehold. Yixing struggled, trying to headbutt the man behind him. But his hands were tied, and someone else quickly shoved a bag over his head.

The two people manhandled Yixing into the car, shoving him into the back seat, and drove off.

"Alright, knock him out," the other one said.

Yixing braced himself for a hit on the head, but none came. A small beep sounded. And then he heard air flare out of the car vents and hit his face. Too late, he tried to stop himself from breathing it in, but he began to feel drowsy.

, they must have planned this all out.

Yixing slumped over in the back seat.

Why?

When he woke, Yixing was sitting upright in a straight-backed chair. His eyes were closed, and he panicked when he realized he couldn't open them. There was nothing gluing them shut, and he didn't feel any pain in them either. In fact, he didn't feel pain anywhere on his body. His blood ran cold.

He couldn't feel anything.

Yixing doubled his efforts to lift his eyelids, to move his fingers, to wiggle his toes, anything, but to no avail.

"He's awake," a voice sounded to his left. Yixing would've flinched in surprise if he could.

"Good."

Yixing recognized the voice of the other man in the car.

"Hello Yixing," the man said. "By now you should've realized that you can't move. A simple neurotoxin. Can't have you killing yourself before we talk. You should be thankful we didn't just pull all your teeth." Yixing could hear the smirk in his voice. "My name is Park Chanyeol." Yixing breathed in sharply. He heard the sound of shuffling paper. "Date of birth, November 27, 1992; height, 185 centimeters; weight, 70 kilograms; background, wealthy drug dealer, also involved in human trafficking. I see you know some things about me. Apparently I'm your target. Jongin told me some things, but he told Kyungsoo the rest, and well, I can't ask either of them anymore. So, Yixing, who are you?"

"Uck... you..." Yixing grunted out.

"Good!" Chanyeol exclaimed. "You can talk, and I can understand you. Now I'll ask you again: who are you?"

Yixing stayed silent this time. He heard Chanyeol give an exaggerated sigh.

"I hoped it wouldn't come to this."

Yixing felt a dull pressure along his left arm and gave no reaction. Belatedly, he realized Chanyeol must've opened a cut on his arm. He didn't feel any pain.

"Well this is rather counterproductive," Chanyeol noticed. "I can't torture you if you can't feel pain. Baekhyun, how long until the effects wear off?"

"Six hours," Baekhyun answered.

"I can wait until then. Give him a lower dose, make sure he can feel pain but not move."

As the door opened, Yixing heard a muted rhythmic thumping sound, and then the door closed. If he strained his ears, he could make out the sound of the other man breathing inside the room with him. But with nothing else to hear, nothing to see, and nothing to do, Yixing eventually drifted off.

The next time Yixing woke up, he could open his eyes. He had a detached feeling of numbness in the rest of his body, but he could move his tongue sluggishly and twitch his fingers and toes slightly. He felt a cold metal bar beneath his chin propping his head up. If not for that, his head would've slumped into his chest. He wasn't bound to the chair, but he couldn't muster up the strength to move out of it.

Yixing looked down at his left arm, resting on the arm of the chair. Sure enough, there was a long cut. The blood had dried, but he could feel it, and it was throbbing lightly. There was an IV needle taped in the back of his hand mounted on a metal rack beside him where the neurotoxin was entering his bloodstream.

The room he was in was small but rather plush. The walls were painted a pale pink and fancy lamps adorned the walls. The only other furniture in the room was a large metal cart with various sharp objects and vials of clear liquid with syringes. That, and the wooden chair Yixing sat in looked extremely out of place.

Some time later, less than an hour Yixing guessed, Chanyeol entered with a shorter man with fluffy hair. Baekhyun. The door let in more muted rhythmic thumping. What that music?

"You're awake," Chanyeol noted. "And you can open your eyes. Now..." He walked over to the cart and selected a knife with a long, thin blade. "Can you feel pain?" He dragged the blade along Yixing's arm, opening a cut parallel to the one he had made hours earlier.

Yixing kept his face blank. It wasn't too difficult. He felt the pain of the cut, but it was something more akin to pressure than pain. He looked down at his arm, furrowed his eyebrows, and looked back up at Chanyeol.

With an irritated look on his face, Chanyeol slammed his fist down on Yixing's arm. Yixing's hand twitched in reponse, and he held back the wince that threatened to appear on his face. His face blanched a little, but Chanyeol didn't seem to notice.

"Evidently not," Chanyeol said. "Let's try again in a few hours. You know what to do," he told Baekhyun.

Baekhyun mixed some clear liquid into a new bag, swapped it for the one on the rack, and left with Chanyeol.

In the hours he was left alone, Yixing regained some strength and mobility. He could lift his arm up a few centimeters and shift his legs. But most importantly, he could move his tongue to the cyanide capsule at the back of his mouth.

Yixing could kill himself.

It would be a simple maneuver – a flick of his tongue to dislodge the false tooth, some finesse to place it between his teeth, a bite down to crush the capsule, and a quick swallow to deliver the poison to the rest of his body. It would be relatively painless, and he would die within minutes.

Before he could give a full thought to what he was doing, Yixing had the cyanide capsule positioned between his teeth, ready to be crushed. His jaw froze in place. His body reflexively tried to clench his teeth together, but Yixing realized quickly that he didn't want to die.

The Order had provided him with a cyanide capsule to save him from suffering under torture. Yixing had never given much of a thought to what he would do in that sort of situation, but he had always assumed he would use it. But he couldn't. As an assassin, Yixing killed almost every other day. He brought death on others, but never expected to have to bring death upon himself. But it was the logical thing to do, the best escape from Chanyeol.

The Order had given him a lot. It had rescued him from the streets and provided him with a life worth living, even if it was killing other people. He wasn't ashamed or afraid to die for it. Yixing just couldn't bear the thought of Luhan, coming home to an empty apartment, strolling through the park in the evenings by himself, lying in their bed alone.

In the end, Yixing was a coward. Before he could change his mind and stop himself, he widened his jaw and let the capsule fall onto his tongue. And then he swallowed it. He felt it move down his throat and into his stomach. He hadn't ruptured the capsule, and it would pass through his system, keeping the cyanide safely inside the pill and away from his body.

Yixing panted, more than a bit shocked at what he had done. Thrown away the only chance at a true escape.

But there were other options. He needed to get the IV needle out of his hand. He struggled, bending his right arm at the elbow and lifting his forearm into the air. On his fourth try, the door opened. Yixing dropped his arm back down.

Chanyeol and Baekhyun walked in, carrying a body between them. Yixing stared as they deposited Luhan unceremoniously on the ground beside his chair. He scanned over Luhan with his eyes. He lay limp on the ground, but otherwise looked unharmed.

Chanyeol walked over to Yixing and pressed a finger into his cuts. "Can you talk yet?"

It hurt considerably more than before, but Yixing was determined to hide the pain. He needed to buy time to get the IV out of his hand and the neurotoxin out of his system, especially now that Luhan was here. He looked like he'd been drugged like Yixing in the car, and he would need time to recover.

Chanyeol looked into his eyes and smiled, seeing his determination. He took the same knife as before and dragged its tip along Yixing's skin once again, parallel to the other two cuts, so it looked like a cat had dragged its claws down Yixing's arm.

Yixing surpressed a grimace, but Chanyeol noticed when he pressed his lips together.

"So you can feel it." He dug the sharp tip of the knife slowly into his wrist, creating an exclamation point down his arm. "Who are you?"

Yixing's eyes watered, and he tried to convince himself that he was numb, but the farther the blade dug into his skin, the more it hurt. He tore his gaze from the knife to Luhan. He had to stay silent. He feared that if he opened his mouth, all that would come out was a scream. He didn't want Luhan to wake to the sound of him screaming.

But Chanyeol didn't stop, and it felt like his hand was being severed. Yixing cried out. And he saw Luhan's eye twitch.

It was the first and only sign Luhan gave that he was conscious. He used a foot to sweep Chanyeol's legs out from under him and kicked the knife out of his hand. Baekhyun jumped in shock and scrambled to the metal cart, raising the first thing that came to his hand – a syringe – and pointing it towards Luhan.

Luhan ignored Baekhyun and went to the metal cart, grabbing a knife with a serrated edge. He quickly straddled Chanyeol before he could get back to his feet and drew the knife across his throat. Chanyeol choked and sputtered, eyes wide with panic.

Luhan turned to Baekhyun. "Drop it," he told the man.

Baekhyun shook his head. "Don't come any closer. I'm just going to leave now." He backed towards the door.

Luhan worked his jaw for a moment, then pulled something white out of his mouth. His cyanide capsule. He broke it between his fingers and charged at Baekhyun. Baekhyun screamed and made a wild stab with the syringe. It stuck in Luhan's shirt and broke off at the needle. Luhan grabbed Baekhyun and harshly forced his mouth open. He threw in the broken capsule and forcefully plugged his nose and put a hand over his mouth.

"Swallow," he commanded.

Baekhyun struggled with fearful eyes, but it was useless. He swallowed and eventually stilled. Luhan set him down on the ground and then ran to Yixing. He pulled the IV out of Yixing's hand.

"Yixing!" He poked around in his mouth for a moment before pulling out another white capsule and holding it in front of Yixing's mouth. "Here, chew this and swallow. It'll help neutralize the neurotoxin they used on you."

Yixing swallowed it and felt the feeling gradually return to his limbs. Luhan bandaged his left arm and rubbed the skin on his right arm as they waited. The knife hadn't gone as deep as Yixing thought it had, and it had missed the tendon. But as the pill Luhan gave him counteracted the neurotoxin, the cuts hurt more and more.

"What are you doing here?" Yixing asked Luhan.

"Saving you," Luhan said with a tone that implied obviously. "And eliminating my target."

"How...?"

"When I was searching for Baekhyun I found Chanyeol holding you here in this room beneath the nightclub. I found out what they were drugging you with, gave myself the antidote and brought one for you. I thought you'd be gone by the time I got here, but you weren't." Luhan picked up Yixing's hand. "Sorry for taking so long..." He trailed off.

Yixing sighed. "I was going to, but Luhan, I couldn't do it. I was a coward. I swallowed the capsule instead." He looked down.

Luhan gave his hand a tight squeeze. "Yixing, that's not a bad thing. Thank you," Luhan looked into his eyes, "for being here for me to save. I don't know what I would've done if you weren't... I love you, Yixing."

He pulled Yixing into a hug and they stayed like that for a few minutes until Yixing pulled out of the embrace and locked lips with Luhan. Yixing smiled into the kiss, and he felt Luhan smile back.

Then they both pulled away for air, eyes and lips shining, and Yixing said, "I love you too."

The moment they left the room the music in the nightclub upstairs boomed through the ceiling. With what they had gone through, they should've headed back to their apartment immediately, but instead they drifted through the nightclub, swaying to the beat of the too fast music.

Until Luhan collapsed in Yixing's arms.

¤¤¤

Being drugged was nothing small, and Yixing and Luhan stayed in bed together for a week. The cuts on Yixing's arm scabbed over and healed fast, although they would leave scars. The syringe Baekhyun had stabbed into Luhan's chest had contained a drug that knocked Luhan out for hours but had no permanent damage. The arrival of the ambulance had shut down the nightclub though.

A week later, Yixing walked into the Order's headquarters at the bank and sat down in front of Yifan in the briefing room.

"Here's your next target." Yifan slid the manila folder across the desk. As usual, his voice was monotone, and his face revealed nothing.

Yixing took it and flipped the cover open to see the face of his new target.

It was Luhan.

Yixing took in a sharp breath and choked his shock down, struggling to keep his face expressionless. His eyes darted to the name printed beneath the picture.

Luhan.

He didn't need the second confirmation, he'd recognize that face from anywhere. He had gazed into the same round eyes less than an hour ago. Just last night he had kissed the same cherry red lips. He knew the feel of those round cheeks in the palms of his own hands.

Yixing tore his eyes away from the picture and met Yifan's passive gaze. "Luhan?"

The perfect business mask Yifan wore cracked a little, revealing a hint of irritation. "Yes. You can read, can you not?"

Yixing hesitated, opening and closing his mouth again. Then he asked a question he had never dared to ask before. Something he would never have dared to ask if it were not Luhan staring up at him from the desk.

"Are you sure?"

Yifan slowly and deliberately placed a handgun on the desk in front of him and leaned forwards in his thick leather chair. "The Order does not make mistakes. Do you understand?"

Yixing swallowed and nodded. "I understand."

"Luhan has gone rogue and is no longer a part of the Order. He is now your target. You have twenty-four hours."

Yixing took the folder, closing it carefully to make sure the contents didn't slip out, and left the briefing room. He took the elevator to the ground level where the bank was, thoughts running through his head. Luhan had gone rogue? When had that happened? He had just eliminated his last target the day before. He hadn't joined forces with his target like Jongin had. Luhan was a top-rate assassin, second to none, responsible for hundreds of hits. He had been the Order's star trainee ever since the beginning. Why was he suddenly a target?

And, of all people, why had they chosen Yixing to kill him? 

Yixing shook the thoughts from his mind as he made his way back to the apartment a few blocks down the street. He had left Luhan in bed without waking him up. He would probably still be there, although Yixing didn't know if he could pull through with his task if he was.

But there was no other option. If he didn't eliminate his target, the Order would send another assassin to do it. Most of the other apartments in the area were occupied by assassins as well. They couldn't run with the tracking chips. Jongin seemed to have joined Kyungsoo out of love. Had he simply waited for another assassin to eliminate him, knowing it was inevitable, and spent the remaining time he had left with Kyungsoo instead of killing him in the first place? Yixing didn't think he could have the strength to wait for death like Jongin had. But he couldn't kill Luhan.

He took a deep breath, biting his lip, then unlocked the door and pushed it open. When he stepped inside there was no one to greet him as usual, and he realized why Luhan hadn't come to the door with a hug and a kiss as the muted sound of running water came to his ears. He was in the shower.

Yixing let out a sigh of relief, glad that he didn't have to confront Luhan just yet. He set the folder on the coffee table and went to the small alcove at the side of the room across from the bathroom where they stocked their weapons. Most of the firearms were his. He'd only seen Luhan used a small handgun before, but Luhan had an impressive array of knives supplemented with various types of poisons at times.

His rifle case sat in its place on the bottom ledge. Yixing took it to the couch, where he set it in his lap and opened it. He methodically checked every piece of the equipment like he always did. It helped him clear his mind. When he finished Luhan still hadn't gotten out of the shower.

Yixing began to gradually assemble the rifle, checking that each piece fit in properly and the weapon worked as it should. He had just attached the scope to the body of the rifle when the water stopped. He rested it against its bipod on the coffee table.

When Luhan stepped out of the bathroom, shirtless with a towel wrapped around his waist, he found Yixing pointing the rifle directly at his chest, tracing a bead of water down his collarbone through the scope.

"Oh, hey you're back," Luhan said casually, a soft smile tugging his lips upwards.

Yixing didn't reply. His index finger tightened against the trigger, eyes glued to the tiny sphere of water in the center of Luhan's chest. It was a point-blank shot. Even if he flinched he couldn't miss. He wasn't even aiming at Luhan. His target was a water droplet.

But the end result would be the same. He eased his finger off the trigger.

"Yeah." Yixing took his hands off the rifle.

"New target?" Luhan asked, looking at the closed folder beside him.

Yixing nodded.

"Your scope is working fine?"

"As good as ever."

Luhan went into the bedroom to change. "Well, I'd hate to be your target."

Yixing let out a breath and rested his head against the palm of his hand. What was he going to do? Could he tell Luhan?

"I assume by the look of frustration on your face this is going to be a difficult target," Luhan said as he walked out of the bedroom, dressed in black skinny jeans and a dark t-shirt with a black jacket over it.

Yixing gave a dry laugh. "You could say that."

Luhan wandered over to their fridge. "Have you had breakfast?"

Yixing gave a grunt of assent. It was late morning now, and he had grabbed a small bun – the last, he realized – from the counter before he had left. "You haven't?"

Luhan shook his head, then closed the refrigerator door with a sigh. "We're almost out of food. I've got the day off, so I'll go restock on groceries. You can go for your target in the meantime, and we can have the afternoon together."

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed his wallet off the counter, slipped a small knife into his pocket, and left. Luhan enjoyed doing these little things like going grocery shopping, pretending they were normal people living a normal life. They'd take evening strolls in the park too, even though it was halfway across the city and strewn with litter.

Yixing sighed and began taking his rifle back apart, fitting the pieces in their proper places in their case. After he snapped the case shut, Yixing picked up the folder again and flipped it open. He was half-hoping that he had dreamed Luhan's picture and his meeting with Yifan, but nothing had changed.

Name: Luhan

Date of birth: April 20, 1990

Height: 178 cm

Weight: 62 kg

Background: born into the Order, top trainee and assassin, gone rogue

Frequented locations: apartment, bank, market

Additional details: skilled with knives, poisons, hand-to-hand combat

It was precious little. There was nothing Yixing didn't know.

He grabbed a pair of binoculars and left for the market, leaving his rifle behind. Luhan had probably gone to the farmers' market that spread over three blocks. Yixing stopped one street over and climbed the fire escape to the roof. Feeling daring, he sat at the edge of the roof, feet dangling in thin air ten stories above the pavement, and brought the binoculars up to his eyes.

Luhan was easy to find, the only figure dressed entirely in black. He looked sullen and depressing from afar, but when Yixing looked through the binoculars, he could see Luhan's large doe eyes shining as he picked up an apple and the corners of his lips quirking upward as he talked.

Yixing sighed and put the binoculars down, letting them hang on the string around his neck. He looked between his feet at the street below, cars zipping both ways like a line of ants. He swung his legs back and forth, feeling the wind flutter around his pants. The Order had supplied him with a new cyanide capsule, but he had swallowed it as soon as he got back to the apartment, knowing he'd never have the courage to bite into it.

But this was different. Yixing considered it. He would fall, and that would be the same, but he could fly before he would fall. And wouldn't the flight make the fall worth it?

But the end result would be the same. And as much as Yixing didn't want to be without Luhan, he didn't want Luhan to be without him.

Yixing didn't move though. He stayed at the edge and watched.

He watched Luhan meander from one side of the farmers' market to the other and then leave with several bags hanging from his arms.

He watched the clouds twist and flow freely through the cerulean sky.

He watched the sun move overhead and then beneath the horizon in an explosion of oranges, pinks, and reds.

He watched as the two lines of cars lit up, one in white and the other in red.

He watched as tiny pinpricks of light broke through the black curtain of night and hung there.

And when there was nothing else to see, he left.

When Yixing returned to the apartment, it was dark inside save for a single flickering candle set on the small dining table with two plates of food. Luhan sat in a chair at the table facing him.

"Hey," he said softly. "Welcome back."

Yixing mustered up a small smile and sat down at the table across from Luhan. He looked at the spaghetti in front of them. "Did you make this?"

Luhan nodded. "Got all the ingredients from the farmers' market this morning. Try it." He picked up his set of chopsticks and began shoveling noodles into his mouth.

Yixing followed his lead. It was good. The noodles were inconsistent enough for Yixing to be able to tell that Luhan had made them from scratch. The sauce was tangy but sweet. The meatballs were chewy and full of flavor. "This is good," Yixing said.

"Well, I tried to base it off of that Italian restaurant we went on a date to once," Luhan replied between mouths of spaghetti.

Yixing nodded appreciatively. The rest of the meal was eaten in silence, save for their slurps and the sound of chopsticks hitting the bottom of the bowl.

Luhan wiped his mouth when they were done and reached across the table to wipe Yixing's mouth too. Yixing stared at Luhan's lips for a long time, lost in thought, unaware of the sad expression on his face.

Suddenly, Luhan blew out the candle, and the room was lit in silver by the moonlight let in through the glass doors to the balcony. Luhan took Yixing's hand and led him out into the chill night air. He had moved their soft leather couch from the living room out onto the balcony, and they sat in it, bodies pressed against one another.

Luhan covered them both with a thick blanket, and they tilted their heads back to watch the stars, searching for wishes to make. Yixing rested his head against Luhan's warm shoulder, and Luhan rested his cheek on Yixing's soft hair.

After a long silence, Yixing murmured something so quietly Luhan thought he'd misheard it.

"What?"

"You're my target," Yixing repeated.

Luhan sighed and wrapped an arm around Yixing. "I know."

Yixing shifted, pressing his face into Luhan's shoulder and wrapping his arms around Luhan's chest. "I love you."

Luhan felt a wetness on his shoulder. His own view of the stars was glazed over with the thin film of tears in his eyes. "I love you too."

Somewhere between his sniffles and Luhan murmuring sweet nothings into his ear, Yixing began to drift off. He snuggled close to Luhan's warm chest and listened to the beat of his heart. His ear subconsciously picked up one last sentence before sleep took him.

"You were my target too."

¤¤¤

Before he fully awoke, Yixing knew something was wrong. He was still on the balcony, and the frigid morning air blew through the blanket. Luhan lay beside him, and as he shivered and shifted closer to Luhan for warmth, he realized what was wrong.

Luhan was cold.

Yixing jolted awake. He threw the blanket off and pressed his ear against Luhan's chest. Nothing. He pressed two fingers into Luhan's cold neck. Nothing. He squeezed his thumb into Luhan's stiff wrist. Nothing.

Tears brimmed in his eyes, and Yixing choked on a sob. He cupped Luhan's face in his hands, feeling the pale skin in his hands and running a finger along the blue-tinted lips.

His target had eliminated himself, and there was nothing Yixing wouldn't do for a cyanide capsule.

But he settled for flying instead, even if the fall would kill him.