Chapter 16

Jongdae got home to find Jongin fast asleep. It wasn’t even that late, but he had grown a bit more accustomed to the fact that Jongin’s strange taste of food and the fact that he had somehow ended up as one of the Sicari’s best men weren’t the only thing odd about him. His sleeping schedule was apparently going to have to be added to that list.

It felt odd being back in the old apartment. His own room was awfully dust covered, and while he had always wanted to return sometime, he had never found the time or, really, the point. The apartment was special, in a way—he’d lived there for years, and while Jongdae had learned not to get attached—to people in general, really—the room was full of bits and pieces of the past that he couldn’t quite let go. Now, all the picture frames (or the two that remained) had been pushed down so he couldn’t see, and it was obvious that the place was so untouched and neglected that he couldn’t even begin to sleep there.

He would have to, though, so Jongdae forced himself to start cleaning.

The dust—the awful, thick, suffocating layer of dust—was the worst, and sometime during the clean-up, he was half-convinced that the dust was going to be what killed him. He coughed, wheezed, tried to breath through his mouth (which made it worse), got dust in his eyes, and by the time he was finished, Jongdae was so sick of it that he dragged himself into the living room couch to sleep instead just so he didn’t have to deal with the dust.

The next morning wasn’t any more merciful. Jongin got up early and started attempting to cook in the kitchen, and smelling burnt eggs wasn’t the first thing on his bucket list when Jongdae woke up, but it was the first thing he registered. It wasn’t as bad as the dust, but the exhaust fan wasn’t on and the whole apartment smelled, quite frankly, insufferable.

Leaving Jongin with the instruction of opening all the windows, Jongdae tucked the appropriate files under his arm and fled for his car and told himself he would sleep at his other apartment for the rest of the week after he bought enough groceries for Jongin to survive.

It was such a terrible start to the day that he had nearly forgotten about Wednesday with Yena. Coffee—or perhaps, more accurately, tea—sounded nice, but he was beginning to wonder if it was a good idea. The only way he was going to get to the bottom of everything was if he actually got to know her, of why Yena was immune to his touch and whether the fact that she looked so similar to Yujin was a coincidence or not and her strange connection with the Sicari through Jongin—it was too much for him to just leave. But digging deeper was the exact thing that Jongin had done, and it had ended up with Jongdae being handed the hit on him. While the Sicari couldn't exactly kill him, there was a lot of people that they could kill to keep him in line, which meant Jongdae had to be extra cautious. 

But then again, given the files Jongin had showed up, it wasn’t surprised the Sicari wanted him cleared from the equation. He definitely knew some things he shouldn’t have.

Now it was a matter of faking Jongin’s death. He could buy a couple more days with the claim that he had practically been given nothing to hunt Jongin down with, which wasn’t a lie, but he was still expected to finish the task as soon as possible. And it definitely wasn’t like him to be inefficient. They’d be suspicious, and the last thing that Jongdae needed was the Sicari on his tracks. He would ask a couple questions so it didn’t look like he was trying to avoid it altogether. Then, discuss with Jongin the best, believable way it would take to make it look like he had actually been killed without having to produce a body. Jongin would definitely have to dye his hair again—silver stood out too much, and black or brown would probably help him so he would blend in. Perhaps a change in fashion. And he would need some sort of personal belonging to prove that Jongin was dead but couldn’t provide a body.

The interior of the Sicari’s building was quiet when he stepped aside, footsteps padding silently on the marble floors. The halls always looked larger than the exterior hinted, but it was apparently too early for many employees to be there. A door to an office was open, but Jongdae headed straight for Secretary Jo’s without looking back, pulling Jongin’s file to the top. It was awfully thin. At least that was an excuse—no information on someone who was too good at avoiding being caught.

Secretary Jo was hunched over his desk, as usual, glasses perched on the tip of his nose as he peered down at his paper, the perpetual scowl etched onto his face. Jongdae knocked on the door. The last time he’d been in the room he’d lost his temper, and while it had definitely felt good, he couldn’t risk any misstep, especially with Jongin’s situation.

Secretary Jo looked up, narrowed his eyes when he saw Jongdae, and then gestured for him to come in. “Is this about Kim Jongin?” he asked shortly.

“Yes,” Jongdae replied. “But unfortunately, I haven’t found him.”

The man gave an unimpressed grunt, though not particularly surprised. “He’s not exactly the easiest person to hunt.”

Jongdae swallowed and set down the file. “Is this all the Sicari has on Jongin?”

Glancing at his hands, Secretary Jo gestured at him and Jongdae stepped back to give him space. With one more suspicious look, he took the file from the table, holding it precariously as if there were something lingering from his touch still. He opened it and slipped out the two sheets of paper and scrutinized.

Finally, he looked up at Jongdae and shrugged. “We don’t have a whole lot on Kim Jongin. There were a couple of physical files, but he got hold of them before he left and destroyed a bulk of them.”

“He destroyed them," Jongdae echoed. "Just how much damage did he do before he ran away?" 

A sharp look. “Classified.”

Classified from me, although I’ve probably lived three to four times your lifespan, he thought drily, but kept his mouth shut. “Fine,” he said. “But I need more than this to catch him. And if—if he were smart, he would have escaped Seoul already, wouldn’t he have?”

“We’ve been monitoring flights from here. He wouldn’t be able to leave or get far.”

“So you think he’s still in the city?”

“He has to be in the city. And I can give you a list of other addresses Jongin has had. I don't know what you'll be able to find there." 

His last known address had been wiped out, except for an empty carton of chocolate milk and chicken bones. The only thing that pointed to was his love for those two things, which Jongdae had had the pleasure of personally witnessing. Still, if he could make it just sound like he was trying to wrap up the hit, then perhaps the Sicari could give him a little more credit.

Secretary Jo pulled open a laptop and began typing. Jongdae waited, feeling a lot more calm than he probably should’ve, before saying, “It might take me a while. Especially to find him.”

He looked up from typing for a second. “Understandable. But you know we need him out of the picture as soon as possible, right?”

“Because—” Jongdae started, then realized he wasn’t supposed to know that Jongin had stole the classified files. “Because what?”

“Classified.”

Great.

He stood in silence for a little while longer before the printer behind Secretary Jo’s desk began to whir. Thirty seconds later, he slid a sheet over to Jongdae.

“We had men investigating Jongin,” he said. “Here are the addresses. A couple places are where he was seen at least three times in the past six months, which was when someone brought up suspicions against him. It was never confirmed until… an incident.”

Until Jongin stole your files on some illegal—more illegal than everything else—experiment you’re doing.

He picked up the sheet and scanned it. There were much more addresses than the last one, some houses, a couple stores, and—

“A cafe,” he managed out, hoping he didn’t sound overly surprised that it was the one Yena worked at, thankful that he hadn't been stupid enough to blurt the shop name straight out. "There's a cafe on here?"  

Thankfully, Secretary Jo was too absorbed in whatever he was doing to pay any heed to his tone. “Apparently,” he said. “Jongin was spotted going there a couple of times. Always ordered some sort of drink. We tracked him quite a bit when we assigned him on hits, but these men were thorough. Some details may be useless.”

Not exactly useless. That was where Yena worked, and from the dates, Jongin had been there three times in the span of a week, approximately four months ago. “Alright,” Jongdae said. “I’ll try to find him as soon as possible.”

A non-committed nod, and Jongdae took it as his cue to leave. He turned to go, but before he did, Secretary Jo called, “If—when you end up confronting Jongin, don’t even hesitate. I want him dead. And I don’t care what it takes, as long as you’re quick and efficient about it.”

With that, he turned to his work, leaving Jongdae to ponder that quick, efficient, and most of all, don't even hesitate were three things he had already failed at. 

But it didn’t matter anyway. Clutching the paper tightly, he turned to leave.

***

Jongdae didn’t want to go back to the house, because it meant having to deal with that awful, dust filled room with those picture frames he couldn’t bear to get rid of, dealing with Jongin and all that came with dealing with Jongin, but he had to at least keep Jongin alive, which meant he needed to buy groceries. He returned home half past two, resolving to buy enough groceries to keep the man alive for a week. 

“Alright,” he said when he got through the door. “Do you know how to cook?”

Jongin peered at him from the table. “As in… make edible food?”

“For sustenance, not as a culinary art,” Jongdae replied drily. “I saw your skill with the eggs this morning. If I buy you groceries for the week, do you think you can get by?”

“Depends on what you buy.”

Please Subscribe to read the full chapter