twelve of twelve

It’s difficult to fall asleep. Throughout the hazy hours between midnight and predawn, Junmyeon floats in a limbo of soothing, almost deceptive, calmness.

Yifan breathes at the skin of her neck, his presence is palpable, and the arm thrown around her waist is a staggering reminder of how casually they fell upon her sheets. Junmyeon exhales, stirs in the man’s almost possessive embrace. He comes about and slides a palm down Junmyeon’s backside. Fingers dig on the flesh of her thighs and he pulls her closer. He presses his mouth on her neck and mumbles her name on the skin of .

“Hi.” Junmyeon whispers, a bit unintelligible, a lot drowsy. “I love you.”

Yifan doesn’t reply and she thinks he’d fallen asleep once again. But he moves and squeezes her. “Are we going too fast?”

Junmyeon does not know what to reply to that. She’s promised herself not to spiral too quickly into her emotions. They’re dangerous, and their connection is as fragile as thin glass. But she’d succumbed. Maybe instead of drowning in it, she’ll ride the tide.

“We are.” answers Junmyeon. She gently presses the tips of her nails to his ribcage and basks in his presence. “Is that okay?”

Yifan glides his fingers through her hair. “I guess. We have an entire lifetime ahead of us to figure things out.”

“A lifetime?” Junmyeon chuckles. “Sounds like a commitment.”

“Does that scare you?”

Junmyeon inhales. “Yes. But we’ll be fine. A lifetime is great.”

Yifan whispers his assurances on her hair eventually lulling Junmyeon to a dreamless sleep.

//

“Junmyeon.”

Bed sheets are tugged off from her legs and she groans when sunlight slices through the bedroom. When she opens her eyes she sees the doctor standing by the bed, an eyebrow raised.

“What time is it?” Junmyeon rakes her short hair back and picks up a piece of clothing from the floor to cover her ness. She settles for his rumpled shirt. The cloth smells of subdued perfume, spice and fresh breeze. She decides she likes it.

“It’s almost two in the afternoon.” Yifan answers.

Junmyeon laughs, “I would have invited you to lunch but I’m sure my fridge contains nothing but water.”

“And a bottle of Dom. Don’t worry about it though. I bought food.” Yifan fits his fingers around her bony wrist and urges her out of the comfort of the bed. It’s almost criminal. Junmyeon wants to stay in forever. “Come on, get your off the bed.”

The hodgepodge of food is set upon the low table situated in the balcony. They sit across each other and while Yifan stares at his laptop, Junmyeon stares at him. He’s had paperwork brought over from the hospital. Junmyeon didn’t think there would be much clerical work involved in his field, but the man in front of her is clearly neck deep in paper. It reminds her of the work she’d left behind at her office, but Junmyeon cannot bring herself to care at the moment.

“What does it feel like?”

“What’s it?” Yifan asks and then sips his coffee.

“Saving lives.”

Yifan stops typing. He averts his gaze from the screen and stares at Junmyeon. “I don’t think it’s apt to call it saving lives. People just happen to be at the right place, on the right time. And if the right place is in my OR, it doesn’t matter.”

“You could say that.” Junmyeon swirls the remnants of her latte and watches a galaxy erupt from the bottom of her cup. “But you undermine yourself.”

“And what makes you say that?”

Junmyeon shrugs. “Consider it a biased opinion. It doesn’t change that you do save lives no matter what context you view it.”

“Thank you.” Yifan reaches for her left hand and circles his thumb on the backside of her palm. “I guess, my seniors warped my perception of myself. It’s hard to learn, to grow, in an environment where people would choose to kick you down instead of hauling you up.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve laid my life for medicine.” Yifan says in a flat tone. “So it’s maddening when most people around me question my every move just to humiliate me. I can accept criticism, but misplaced hate is harder to deal with. I can see where they’re coming from. After all, I’m far too young to be where I am and I don’t have their years and experience. But knowing this doesn’t really take the sharp edge off the pain.”

Junmyeon smiles, albeit sadly. She understands him, they’re in the same position after all. She’s made head of a big conglomerate a few short years before her thirtieth birthday, and everyone around her would rather watch her fall than support her endeavors. She deflates everybody’s ego, crushes the patriarchism inherent in the political hierarchy of Kim Mixed Industries. And to rub salt on everybody’s wounds, the ever stoic Chairman Kim trusts her intellect more than her experience, and not everyone is thrilled about that.

“I believe you.” Junmyeon calmly says. “I don’t think you’re incapable of fault, you’re not perfect. But I trust you enough to be someone who’d never consciously allow a mistake at the expense of another person’s well being. You care about human life, Fan. I’ve seen you work before and to drive my point, I’d even trust you with my life.”

Yifan chuckles, “You flatter me.”

Junmyeon’s expression reflects upon Yifan’s glasses. “I’m way too old for flattery.”

They laugh.

“This is oddly therapeutic.” Yifan shuffles his papers and folds his laptop closed.

“What is?”

“That I’m telling you all my darkest secrets.”

“Please,” Junmyeon scoffs, “I’ve told you the entirety of my life in one drinking session. But let’s not make it a competition of whose sob fest is more miserable.”

The candor of the statement eventually makes Yifan laugh again. Junmyeon likes his laugh, the way the sound echoes around the place. His teeth show too, all gums peeking out. It’s adorable.

Junmyeon hasn’t felt this content in years and she’s happy.

“This terrible coffee made me honest. I’m glad it’s you who I get to dump all these to. I really didn’t want to see a therapist anyway. I don’t want someone in my field to know that I’m barely holding my life together.”

“We’re all struggling to hold our lives together, Fan. But we’ll manage, one way or another.”

“Knowing that comforts me.” Yifan leaves a chaste kiss on Junmyeon’s cheek and stands up. “Dinner at six, if you’re not too busy?”

“If you’d let me drive.”

“Debatable. If it’s a four wheeled vehicle, I’m inclined to agree. But if it’s that Ducati, I’d pass. I value my life.”

Junmyeon’s lips, purse. “Oh come on. For old time’s sake?”

Yifan shakes his head, “No. I’d rather crash in an Aston than get bodily mangled riding backseat of a motorcycle you’re driving. So, six?”

Junmyeon tears a piece of baguette and playfully throws it at the man in front of her. “Fine, killjoy.”

“Great. I’d see you later, babe.”

//

Kim Jihoon, for all intents and purposes, is not a good man.

He’s had a rather staggering epiphany in his own anti-climactic experience with death. It does work its magic on everyone. For starters, it wasn’t that big of realization. After all, he’s quite aware of the sins he’d committed not just to his family but to everyone else around him.

One way or another, he’d meet his reckoning. When he struggled to breathe one day, dropped to his knees desperately clutching his chest, he thought that was it. His judgment in the form of an early death.

He wakes up largely unharmed of course. He felt weak, his bones ached and felt like they were porous. Then after what felt like forever, he’d seen his daughter. She’d resembled his wife a bit too much, cold exterior, sharp tongue and with a heart that has lost all its capacity to feel anything for him.

Kim Jihoon realized that his reckoning will not be a one time event, it will trickle throughout the remaining years of his life, slowly poisoning him, killing him. He can’t say he regrets the things he’s done. He’s far too old to be sorry for his own despicable personality. But then Junmyeon looked at him with eyes that mirrored his own and he’d seen himself. It was frightening. He realized

he’d took it too far, he hadn’t just poisoned himself, but also his daughter.

These days, it’s the only thought that occupies his mind. He’s alone in a huge estate and his servants seem to blend into the walls, there when he needs them and promptly disappears right after. His wife hasn’t finalized the divorce, aware of the consequences it entails in their inner circle. Jihoon doesn’t even know where the woman is, she could be in France or in Italy, maybe somewhere in Greece.

Actually, he stopped wondering a long time ago.

He feels empty as his house. The money in his immediate disposal seemed powerless to quell his unrest. It was bound to happen and he was inadvertently readying himself to deal with it eventually. He’s sixty-eight years old, too old to think about useless frivolities like his emotions.

But to think that he’s put Junmyeon through this kind emptiness as early as the age of nine, as soon as she could digest advanced mathematics like it was nothing, is harrowing even for a man as soulless as him. He’d given her all material things her heart desired and had stripped away her childhood. It never occurred to him until his own emptiness seemed to cripple him.

It’s not a wonder why she had looked at him like she would rather shoot him down than see him alive.

He wanted to be given a second chance until the consequences of his greed crawled their way from the deepest pits he’d buried them in.

Think upon your sins.

//

”And here I was getting ready to bust out the Ducati.”

“Way ahead of you babe. I realized you were going to do just that.”

Yifan wears a white shirt under some leather jacket. Junmyeon thinks he’s charming, very movie type bad boy get up. She grins. “Harley Street 750? I see a type.”

Yifan scoffs as he hands her a familiar box of pineapple pastries. “I thought of getting you flowers but I was sure you’d slap it across my face.”

Junmyeon pops a tart into , smiling. “You see me terribly, darling. But I’m happy you didn’t think of getting me roses. I’m not gonna slap it across your face though, how horrible.”

She wears the most basic of an office getup, beige blazer and matching pantsuits, comfortable enough except for the black stiletto pumps that completes the outfit. She stares at her shoes, frowning. She’s not willing to get on that bike with these killer heels.

“I told you.” Yifan remarks and gets down in front of her. In his grasp is a brown shoebox. “I’m way ahead of you.” He removes her heels and fits a pair of white tennis shoes over her feet. Junmyeon feels her entire face flush. She is probably red up to the roots of her hair.

“I’m not even gonna ask why you know my exact size.”

Yifan stands up. “You used to wear all these crazy shoes back then, got curios.”

Junmyeon steps forward and hugs him. “You’re the best, Fan.”

Yifan chuckles, “Yes, I guess I am. Let’s go, we still have that dinner waiting.”

She’s almost like a child when she excitedly climbs up his motorcycle. Along the way, she asks Yifan if she could drive, or if he could drive faster. Yifan answers by pulling her arms around his torso tighter.

The restaurant has been there for a couple of years. It’s the only property overlooking the seaside. The first thing she notices are the lights, soft as they cast ecru onto wooden floors. Junmyeon marvels at the ocean displayed from the open windows rounding the establishment. The water glints underneath the shine of the moon. “You’ve been here before?” She asks Yifan as a woman ushers them to their reserved table with an amicably professional smile.

“A few times.” Yifan pulls out the chair for her. Junmyeon laughs. He’s acting like a textbook gentleman and his jeans and tee shirt get up simply contrasted greatly from the overall ambiance. “Their seafood platter is to die for.”

And the food is to die for indeed. In the middle of their dinner, the phone largely forgotten in her side pocket vibrates and jolts her to its existence. She lifts the device, surprised to see Byun Baekhyun’s contact flashing through the screen. The call drops but not even a few seconds later, the phone rings again, this time from the head of her personal secretaries. She glances at Yifan, expression embarrassed. “Hey, Fan. I think I have to take this call.”

“Is there anything wrong?”

“I don’t know. I hope nothing’s wrong.”

She stands and eventually leaves the table, sliding a finger across the screen to accept the call.

//

It came before Baekhyun can turn off his unit. It’s almost ten in the evening, he’s the only soul in the entire office floor save for the maintenance running their final rounds throughout the whole building. He stares at the notification, which popped from the lower left corner of his monitor, and frowns.

The job Junmyeon gave him doesn’t really offer much surprises. He’d mostly begged her for non architectural related work. He’s not really in the mood to relive the trauma he left behind in London. He misses what he used to do but sometimes, memories haunt him even when he’s awake and sober. So, Byun Baekhyun ends up as a secretary under one of Junmyeon’s clerical legion. His best friend practically runs the entire conglomerate by herself. After the old Kim partially croaked, she sat as interim Chairman, CEO and COO, unwilling to let anyone lay their hands on the inner workings of their business empire. The finance section is under one of Junmyeon’s cousins. Baekhyun had seen the man before and he thought that there is something inherently sly about Kim Howon.

Baekhyun would be lying if he didn’t think something about their side of the industry, isn’t as squeaky, sparkly clean as they portray it to be. He just didn’t want to relay his doubts to Junmyeon, considering the work over flowing on her plate as it is.

He regrets it. He should have said something, he really should have.

The email was clean, bypassing their company’s firewall entirely. When Baekhyun opens the link it contains, it downloads a file onto the computer connected to the company’s cloud archive. The former architect taps his fingers irritably onto the surface of his desk, the other hand busy on the track pad. When he realizes exactly what he’s looking at, he grabs his phone and dials a number he wished he didn’t have to call ever.

//

Bad news always came through calls in this day and age. A death of a loved one, a friend getting into an accident, one’s egregious mansion getting robbed or, your conglomerate being the biggest hot spot for white collar crime perpetrated by your own father’s greed, and one of your family member’s jealousy blowing everything into the ing roof.

Kim Junmyeon rarely gets shocked into silence. She won over most businessmen, even those more than twice her age with years of experience in the industry, by this very personality trait. She has learned to harden herself, never allow her emotions to leak through the cracks in her armor. She’s calculative and intelligent at best, manipulative and cynical at worst, efficient and cold blooded in between.

“Ma’am, we have a major information breach. I am afraid we are in need of your assistance.”

She asks Yifan to gun down his bike. He looks at her worriedly when he drops her off within KMI’s compound, Junmyeon can only kiss his cheek. She offers him a disjointed apology, before she runs into the building.

It’s like wildfire. Most of her employees come in at the dead of the night, some still in their sleepwear as they try to mitigate the situation. Junmyeon knows they’re too late, everything’s already poured into the internet. Tomorrow, news stations will be airing Kim Mixed Industries collective dirty laundry to the nation and then to the globe. The biggest business powerhouse in their side of the hemisphere, is nothing but a porous front for what practically is the most major business scandal in the past two decades. And vultures will feast on whatever remain of them after this. Multiple counts of fraud, billions embezzled, bribery. The entire fifty-fourth floor of the building is alight with activity. People are shouting orders into telephones and contacting legal aides to try and ing make sense of the situation.

It felt like a bomb blew up on Junmyeon’s face. She tries to put up her strongest front while she catches on fire from the inside.

“We’re still trying to trace the source. The IT department is having a ing field day.” Baekhyun’s face is almost paper white, bags underneath his eyes as pronounced as the wrinkles on his light blue dress shirt. Junmyeon must probably look even worse than he is, looks worse than all of her employees combined. It’s almost five in the morning, she hasn’t slept in nearly twenty four hours.

“I’m so sorry.” She begins and presses the heels of her palms under her burning eyes. “I should have known this was coming.”

Baekhyun wraps his fingers around her wrist and coaxes her to sit beside him. They are in Junmyeon’s sound proofed office with walls made of frosted glass. “You’ve never been all knowing. You couldn’t have known this was happening until today.”

“How are you so sure that I don’t have a play in this, that tomorrow I won’t be getting a subpoena and consequently indicted for fraud?”

“Because it’s not in your nature. As far as I’m concerned embezzlement can take years, you’d have to be the most cunning er to pull off this grand of a scheme. You’ve held these positions not even a year, Myeon. You’re cold but you’re not evil. I’ve known you long enough to be sure this can never be your doing.”

Junmyeon allows Baekhyun’s words to wash over her, like a warm blanket in freezing weather.

“I find it funny.” The coffee is bland, yet Junmyeon pours the piping hot liquid down in hopes it would wake her system. “One good thing happens to me and it opens an entire dam of bad, like they’re just sitting there waiting to be triggered. Yifan and I, we’re meeting in the middle for once and my life is finally going in a direction I want it to, and this just had to happen. The world likes throwing ed up things at me as equalizing factor.”

“That’s ed up indeed.” Baekhyun rolls his eyes. “But Junmyeon my dearest honey pie, there’s no correlation between your dad’s unethical business decisions and Yifan’s reappearance in your life. And don’t you even think of running away on some sort of dramatic like preserving him from this mess. You better tell me that you’re not even thinking about it.”

Junmyeon smiles. “I’m not. I need him more than anything in my life right now. I can’t lose him Baek, not this time. I can’t. And stop calling me dearest honey pie.”

A knock oscillates before Baekhyun can reply to the statement. Junmyeon’s head secretary steps into the office, expression somber. “It’s on the news, ma’am.” The tall man hands Junmyeon a tablet and proceeds to switch on the television in the office.

Journalists are really creative about it, bringing in financial analysts and business experts to render their own spin on the issue. They’re pouring gasoline on fire and Junmyeon had to massage her temples, her headache can win an award for how intense its trying to slice her skull open.

“How about the market?” She asks, despite knowing. It's like spiting herself, drinking her share of the koolaid. 

“Our phones are ringing off the hook, ma’am. Everybody is trying to get rid of their stocks, we’re falling quite fast.”

Junmyeon nods, bites her own tongue to keep from screaming. “Any news from IT? Do we have the source of the leak?”

The secretary shakes his head.

“How about the rest of the board? Have they been notified of the situation yet?”

“We have been contacting them since last night, ma’am. So far, only Mr Cho and Madame Son have responded.”

“, they really couldn’t be bothered to rise from their beds.” Junmyeon seethes, uncaring of her language. “They’d probably sleep through the ing apocalypse.” She really doesn’t care anymore. “Please send out a memo for me. I’ll address the board tomorrow, I’ll have to speak to the Chairman later. Also, clear out the rest of my schedule until next week.”

The secretary hurriedly taps onto the device in his hand, nodding at every instruction. “How about the press, ma’am?”

Junmyeon frowns. “We’ll have to stall until we have this figured out. Ask my rep to issue the statement. She’ll know what to do.”

“Alright, ma’am.” The man glances at her one more time before he promptly leaves the office. Junmyeon inhales, allows herself to fall apart. She’ll have to pick herself up one way or another, but later. No one’s going to be there to deal with the carnage, anyway. No one but her.

Baekhyun throws an arm around her frame and pulls her towards him. “I know everything’s ed up right now, but I believe you’ll get through this. You’re Junmyeon and I’ve seen you get shoved into  the ground countless of times since you were a young girl, this is just another point in that long list. Be strong, I’m here.”

Junmyeon in her tears, tucks her head underneath Baekhyun’s chin. Deep inhales.

//

“I don’t even think we still need to have this discussion.”

The folder slaps against the surface of the wooden table, the contents spilling onto the marble floor.

Junmyeon rarely finds herself in her parents’ home. The place is frigid,it reminds her of an oversized mausoleum. It’s quiet, the chatter of servants hushed in respect to the old Kim’s wishes. Junmyeon hated it then, and she hates it now even more.

Kim Jihoon is a frail old man. Junmyeon finally notices the prominent wrinkles on his face, the way his form slumps, like he is caving into himself. He reminds her of a berated child, and Junmyeon feels an odd combination of anger and pity. She bites back a sigh, and heads for the window. The view is a panorama, the best one can buy with money. The dark city skyline calms her somehow, a reprieve she needs so badly.

“You know I could have prevented this from happening, father. I gave you my ultimatum. I wanted just one dilapidated building. I wanted you and everyone else very far away from it and I would have managed to do a better job than you if you wished to steal billions from the conglomerate. You weren’t really joking when you told me we didn’t get to the top this easily.” Junmyeon scoffs, sarcasm saturating her words. “And you didn’t stop at that. When will it ever be enough?”

Lightning slices through gray cumulus clouds followed by a strong slap of thunder. “Multiple counts of fraud, slush funds, billions in tax evasion and embezzlement. It’s all in the dossier, father. Funnily enough, it doesn’t name anyone. Convenient for you isn’t it? And everybody who’s anybody has a copy of it.” Rain starts to slap onto the windows, Junmyeon watches idly. “The papers present such strong evidence. Harder to refute, once a witness comes out and believe me, someone will come out. You make a lot of friends and uncountable enemies, those were your words.”

“What will you say to the board?” Jihoon cuts in.

“I’ll tell them I will be contacted by various prosecutors. They want me to participate in the investigation. Howon and I, precisely. After us, them. And if they’re involved…may the gods have mercy on the governors of Rome.”

The old man does not say anything else.

Junmyeon tries so hard to put a lid on her anger but every little thing surges to the surface. She’s unable to contain herself any longer. “You’re not going to say anything to me?”

The man thumbs through the papers. Think upon your sins, they said. He doesn’t do that, Jihoon is beyond his errors, too prideful to even resent himself for every thing he has done that eventually lead to this.

Junmyeon’s laugh is a broken sound that echoes in their shared silence.

“From the beginning I always knew I never meant anything to you. Not as your daughter, probably not even more than a stranger. I exist to do your bidding, to take good care of and never endanger your empire. You just nailed me onto a metaphorical cross, dad. I’m not even surprised. But don’t worry, I won’t say anything to your precious colleagues. Let me take care of your failure and handle the brunt of your downfall.”

He wants to say something, anything, but not a single word leaves his lips.

//

Kim Junmyeon sits in her empty, silent office that night.

It’s been three weeks since the initial issue erupted. Five days after the documents got out, the first prosecutor demanded her presence. The man was young, in his early thirties and near balding. Junmyeon knew what his smirk entailed. They already found a witness and the prosecution wants to go to court, because they know they will win the case. And if they do, what a good way to boost a career.

The board was unforgiving, Junmyeon did not say anything, could not say anything to defend herself. The consensus paints her in the worst picture possible. They believe she is an accomplice, appointed to the highest offices at such a young age, it was obvious how it happened. Junmyeon could have easily challenged the accusations but the entire issue is a cluster far too exhausting to deal with.

She thinks about Kim Jihoon’s expressionless face and it infuriates her. What exact words did she even want to hear from her father? Some sort of repentance? For him to grovel at her feet for forgiveness? A confession to admit the crimes he’d committed?

Hilarious. Kim Jihoon is an iceberg, cold and unfeeling. He would never bow to anyone, to secure this, he apparently has had the highest authority in the land under his payroll.

Junmyeon wanted to see regret, just a nick, a mere second for the expression to cross his aging face. Of course he never gave in. She couldn’t believe she actually thought she would see tears on her father’s face. Truly, utterly, laughable.

Rain slaps the sleepless city in unending sheets, but the torrential downpour barely stopped the press from hounding the vicinity. The entire country has been in an uproar and for the first time in her life, Junmyeon feels stupid. The breach was never fully traced to a singular source and yet the information provided were investigated upon and proven to be largely true, thanks to various suit donning witnesses.

Junmyeon cannot do anything more but await for when she’s summoned to swear to tell the truth she barely even knows.

The suffocating silence is broken when the door to her office opens. She looks up and sees Wu Yifan. The doctor seems as exhausted as she is, since he suffers with her by extension. Being the representative of the only major project Kim Mixed Industries has for the year proved to be helpful in fueling the fire. In their private moments, they languish over the harassment received from the press on a daily basis and laugh about menial things. Junmyeon thanks whatever higher being that gave her Yifan, her peace in this chaos.

A white paper bag is placed before her while Junmyeon ruminates over her thoughts.

Yifan smiles “Fresh pineapples.” If it weren’t for their current situation, Junmyeon would have been more than ecstatic to dig into the fruit. Indeed, the last few weeks have been a complete havoc, physically and mentally.

“I didn’t think the press would want more from you considering the statements you’ve released.” Yifan heads for the couch in the middle of the office and basically just crashes there. Junmyeon feels guilt boil in her insides.

“How are things going on for you?” Junmyeon asks, trying to stomp down her insecurity and reaching for the contents of the paper bag. “This entire thing is upsetting to say the least and not to mention that I’ve managed to drag you in, to top it all off.”

Yifan chuckles. “Things are as expected but it makes me wonder that if we could somehow surpass this, we’d get through everything as couple.”

“Probably even the apocalypse.” Junmyeon opens the plastic container of fruit and somehow the scent assimilates her in a strangely offensive way. “Alright wow, the possibility that I might be indicted for crimes that I never even committed, must be doing something to my nostrils. These pineapples smell…weird.”

The doctor stands up from the couch, eyebrow raised. “What? They don’t smell anything to me.”

Junmyeon shrugs, plucks off a piece and pops it into . “Yeah,” chewing quietly. “They taste amazing. Maybe its just that I have to go to court and everything terrifies me.”

Yifan reaches for an errant piece of hair and tucks it into the back of her ear. The action reminds Junmyeon of good things, of peaceful times. “Honestly, I’m glad that we’re going through all of this together. No one’s happy with the circumstances but I’m relieved to know that you haven’t pushed me away. That you’re allowing someone else to be with you while you deal with this mess.”

Junmyeon manages an exhausted smile. “I’m scared Yifan.”

They don’t say anything to each other. Yifan levels her with an unreadable gaze and beckons with a nod. “Come here.”

“What?”

Long fingers wrap around her wrist and coax her from her position behind the large oak desk. “Come on Myeon, give it a rest. I require attention.”

“Don’t be funny.” Junmyeon chuckles nonetheless and allows herself to be pulled up. She staggers onto Yifan’s chest. He is warm, radiates like a furnace. They head for the couch and Junmyeon feels the surge of exhaustion. Her limbs are jelly. “How long have you been working?” She lays her head on his chest. “You’re paler than usual and you’ve lost weight.”

“I don’t know. My staff and me aren’t exactly the picture of health these last few weeks. Even Baekhyun is working himself to death. It’s been a mess, Fan. The board wants me out once the trials begin.”

Yifan tightens his arms around her and she gets the urge to climb onto his lap. “This isn’t even your fault. Why do you have to take the blame for it?”

“It’s expected of me.” Junmyeon in a shaky breath. “I…it’s really the only thing I know. My father trained me to be this person, someone to take charge over his business when he dies.”

“How can you say that? You’re one of the most intelligent people in this continent. You can do whatever you want.”

“You’re right but it’s the only real thing I’m passionate about. I don’t look like it but I’m actually enjoying running this business. I thought that if I can just direct it through the right course, I can help a lot of people. Then I can put a name to something I’ve been looking for all my life, feel less useless, and perhaps my existence will have its purpose other than this…the person they’ve conditioned me to be.”

The man doesn’t reply. He gazes at her, the expression closed off once more. Junmyeon just can’t read him any longer. “What are you thinking about?”

“You.”

“Me?”

“Yes. You’ve done a lot of great things, helped a lot of people and yet you still…”

“What?”

“Undermine yourself.” Yifan finishes. “You told me that before. But it applies to you more than me. I want you to realize that you’ve always been worth it. I think the world of you, Kim Junmyeon. Don’t say that you’re useless, just don’t. It insults the fact that I felt like the luckiest man alive after some girl vomited on my favorite shoes.”

The memory comes to surface. It happened a lifetime ago, but Junmyeon remembers regurgitating her guts on some hero type like it happened yesterday.  

“Those were really good times.” Junmyeon says and promptly climbs onto Yifan’s thighs. She wraps her arms around his neck. “Really good times. But I’m still scared of things. What’s gonna happen to us?”

Yifan presses a kiss to her jaw. “I don’t want to give you false assurances. But whatever happens, I’ll stay. I can’t handle more of the we went through, no more losing you.”

“That’s reassuring.” Junmyeon is tired, she’s almost asleep when she remembers. “Say, what was your relationship to Song Qian?”

Yifan starts nibbling on her earlobe, chuckling quietly. “Do you really want to talk about that?”

“I’m curious, come on, let’s talk about other things.”

“Qian was…well, we played around with each other. And I ended up hurting her.”

“She loved you, didn’t she?”

“She did. But two years of ing around didn’t make me feel anything. I was…not the best person. I regret the things I’ve done.”

“Why didn’t you though? She was wonderful.”

Yifan turns her chin towards him and kisses her full on the lips. It sears, the kind that makes her feel dizzy. “Because I’ve loved you and only you. She knew we can’t be more than anything but physical. I told her this, point blank. She laughed at me, told me I was hot. We ed, she had feelings, I hurt her.”

Junmyeon mumbles. “Loved?”

“Then and now, I suppose. Did you honestly think, I moved on? You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Junmyeon settles her face into the junction of his neck and shoulder. He’s so unbelievably warm and the familiarity of his body comforts her.

“I love you.”

Yifan hums, the last thing she remembers before falling asleep.

//

Her organ probably rearranged themselves the night before, Junmyeon thinks as she vomits. Her face is nearly pressed onto the lid of the bowl and it would have disgusted her if she is not too busy dry heaving bile.

“Junmyeon?” Baekhyun’s calls from the other side of the closed door, “Are you alright? Do you want me to come in? How about a doctor, do you need a doctor?”

She stands up by grabbing the edge of the sink, calling out “I’m fine” before she stares at her reflection. She is frightening, the gauntness of her skin, the bags under her eyes. She can’t remember the last meal she ate, nor the last time she slept. Her current state is hardly surprising.

“Wonderful.” Junmyeon scoffs at her face. She appears as if attending a funeral. Visage without a trace of makeup, clothes in black. “Just wonderful.”

The first time the court calls for the head of Kim Mixed Industries under allegations of embezzlement, tax evasion, bribery and fraud, came approximately five weeks after the breach was poured into the internet. Public prosecutors really worked fast.

Junmyeon exits the building with shaky legs. Uniformed men surround her. Camera flashes are blinding, millions of inquiries nonstop from the press hounding her. Her vision gets cloudier and cloudier every second. Junmyeon only vaguely feels arms around her, it must be Baekhyun, or one of her bodyguards.

A recorder is on Junmyeon’s face, a persistent journalist trying to press the device to . Junmyeon will vomit again. “Miss Kim, the general population think your charities and numerous hospices are a front to hide the allegations upon you and Kim Mixed Industries. What do you say to this?”

“Miss Kim, what will happen to the newly launched health care sector of KMI of which you head. Will it proceed?”

“Miss Kim, who will act as interim while you are in trial?”

Too much, too much. Can’t breathe.

Junmyeon steps into the awaiting vehicle. The cold blow of the aircondition calms some of her unrest but the cloudiness in barely disappears but worsens. She bites her tongue and thinks about her responsibilities.

Don’t pass out. Don’t pass out.

When they reach the district court, Junmyeon stands beside her father, Kim Jihoon. She catches a hint of worry on the man’s face when their eyes meet. She deduces, she must be truly losing it then. Junmyeon had to hold on to Baekhyun as they attempt to walk. She uses Baekhyun like a pair of crutches.

“Are you alright?” Baekhyun asks. “Please answer me.”

It takes almost everything for Junmyeon to answer. “I’m not. But I have to do this.”

The trial is unbearably long, stretching into what feels like an eternity. Junmyeon tries to answer as honestly as she can, to the best of her seemingly failing health. Inadvertently, it’s not one of her greatest ideas, to go to court while trying to hold on to her consciousness. She barely catches onto the statement released by her father.

Junmyeon completely misses when the old Kim admits to embezzlement and tax evasion but denies paying politicians to illegally uphold his position, nor to the allegations of fraud and slush funds to apparently support the re-election of the current President. Her head is hazy, the sounds around her fade into a dull thrum. When she falls to the tiled floor, she sees Baekhyun’s silhouette hovering above her. His lips move so fast, like he’s shouting. When Junmyeon closes her eyes, everything is black.

//

“Order in the court!”

“Order in the court!”

“Someone get me a ing ambulance!” Byun Baekhyun shouts when Junmyeon meets the floor. He kneels beside his best friend and silently panics when he notices how pronounced her paleness had become. “Oh god, Junmyeon don’t do this to me.”

“What happened to her?” Kim Jihoon, drops beside him, eyes boring onto Junmyeon’s prone form.

“No, if something happens to her,” Baekhyun turns to face the old businessman. “know that it will be your fault. She’s got nothing to do with this show, and you are aware of that. You should be ing ashamed of yourself, Mr Kim.” Baekhyun does not even care, he wants his words to hurt. When the expression on the old man’s stony face changes, Baekhyun feels genuine contentment.

Since the entire place has erupted into chaos, the aging judge shakes her head and calls for a recess. She couldn’t help but pity the young businesswoman. The expression on her face was open, her leveled stare and even tone didn’t belie her honesty. It’s a feeling the judge rarely gets when members of the chaebol are on the hot seat, interrogated by prosecutors for crimes that are far too common within their industry, it’s technically an open secret.

Kim Junmyeon enters the court in funeral clothes, and it’s harrowing that she exits it spread on a stretcher.

//

She opens her eyes to unnervingly peaceful surroundings, the lights are dim, the scent is not as usually cloying for a hospital. Junmyeon largely does not feel any pain nor discomfort, save for the feeling of numbness in the back of her palm that connects her to an IV line. Must be good painkillers, she muses to herself.

“Hey.” Baekhyun cards his long fingers through her hair. “How are you feeling?”

“Sleepy.” Junmyeon mumbles. “What happened?”

“You passed out cold and it freaked me and everybody out. By the way, I called Yifan, but I didn’t get through.”

“Don’t bother him, he’s probably in the OR.” Junmyeon tries to sit up but her body is so weak. “The trial, Baek. What happened?”

“Don’t worry about the ing trial.” He gently pushes her back down. “You should worry about your health.”

“I wish it were that easy, Baek. I really wish.”

Baekhyun sighs. “Alright, just sit back. I’m going to call the doc.”

And he’s out the door.

Junmyeon palms the sheets, and lets her mind wander. The doctor that steps in is an amicable looking woman, decked in lavender scrubs and standard white coat.

“Good afternoon, Junmyeon. How are you feeling?”

“Tired.” She says.

“That’s to be expected. You are over fatigued and with your current condition, it’s not the best idea to subject yourself to stressful situations.”

Junmyeon’s mind cannot process the statement fast enough. “That’s quite impossible doc.”

“You can call me Jihyo.” The doctor really has a great smile, calming. Junmyeon wonders if she’s the kind of doctor who delivers terrible news with the same expression on her face. “Do you mind if we can talk about your condition privately?”

Baekhyun doesn’t need to be told twice as he silently steps out.

“So, Jihyo.” Junmyeon closes her eyes, slightly bracing herself for some catastrophic news. “What’s happening to me?”

“Junmyeon, you’re four weeks pregnant.”

Honestly, Junmyeon had been expecting to hear that there is a tumor pressing onto her skull, or some sort of malignancy growing haywire in her body. Her brain lags at the information. Pregnant, a child. She’s having a child during the most inopportune time.

“A baby?” Junmyeon just wants to clarify before she has a meltdown. “Is that correct?”

“It’s a very sensitive pregnancy.” Jihyo says. “But you and your baby will be alright. You just have to be very careful.”

“Okay. Thank you Jihyo.” Junmyeon sighs, “Can you ask my friend to come in, please?”

“Sure.”

As she watches the doctor step out, Junmyeon thinks of the bundle of cells inside her body and tries not to cry.

//

Along the way, her office at the fifty-fourth floor has become a home to Junmyeon.

She gets herself discharged that same night despite Baekhyun’s protestations. She doesn’t want to be in the hospital any longer for the sole reason of wanting to cry in peace, where she can worry no one with her tears. Junmyeon cannot hold herself upright any longer, so she just gives up, and sits on the carpeted floor after the door clicks shut.

And then she cries, silent at first until her entire body shakes like a tiny leaf in the blowing wind. Junmyeon’s mind is a blank, and she doesn’t think, she just cries out every pain until nothing is left. Her thinking clears a bit, and it’s about her, no - their - baby. How this much crying must be bad for the life inside of her. Junmyeon is apologetic and she doesn’t even hear the knock, nor the door opening.

“Junmyeon, what are you doing?” Yifan hurriedly kneels in front of her. “Are you alright? Jesus. I’m so sorry, I just got out of the OR and I heard that you discharged yourself from the hospital.”

Immense relief floods her being when she sees Yifan. Junmyeon gives him a watery smile. “Fan.”

“You shouldn’t be sitting on the floor, Myeon.” Yifan leans forward and plants a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Come on. Let me carry you to the couch.” He lifts her up, so gently, like she’s fragile glass. For the first time in her life, Junmyeon appreciates the treatment. She’s weak, so, so weak. And maybe it’s alright to be weak sometimes, it’s alright to have someone witness her be vulnerable.

Yifan places her on the couch and when he sits beside her, Junmyeon climbs to his lap, seeks for warmth. “Yifan, I need to tell you something.”

“Go ahead. But you don’t have to force it out. Just let me comfort you for now.”

Junmyeon wants to sob again. “Yifan, it’s not about the trial. It’s about…”

“Hmm?”

“I’m pregnant.”

The hand that was caressing her back, suddenly ceases. Junmyeon realizes that she’s afraid of his would be reaction.

After a stagnant silence that stretches on for minutes, Yifan meets her gaze and exhales, “Pregnant?” Junmyeon nods, unable to say anything else. A small smile graces Yifan’s lips. “I’m happy.” But his tone is quiet, not exactly the sound of happiness. Junmyeon hears an unsaid ‘but’ that hangs in the air.

“You’re not.” Junmyeon whispers. “I’m so sorry.”

“No, no, no.” Yifan cups her face. “I am happy. Believe me, I’m so, so happy. But this was an unplanned decision for the both of us and it isn’t my call Junmyeon. It’s your body, your decision. I’m just here to support you.”

The sincerity in his voice brings a smile to Junmyeon’s lips. It’s comforting to know that she loves someone who willingly stays with her through all the mess in her life, she’s grateful to be in love with someone who will never force what they want on her, with someone who allows her to do her own thing because he believes in her.

She thought that Yifan was far too perfect for her, and maybe he is. He is perfect for her.

“Hey, it’s alright.” Yifan’s hold is gentle around her. “I love you, okay. I love you so much and I will understand if you don’t want to have this child right now. It’s okay, Junmyeon. It’s okay.”

It’s not. But they will manage. Somehow, they will and whether to have this child or not, remains to be a decision for a clearer mind.

//

Kim Jongin finishes trekking through the Camino de Santiago when he hears of the news. Thirty days without a phone from France to Spain was intended for an extreme soul cleanse, and not a sudden system shock the moment he found himself near civilization once again.

He’s never been the same after breaking up with Kwon Sujeong, she left him in shards and it took more than four years to pick up what’s left behind and make himself somewhat whole again. Another person emerged after their split, a kind of character that Jongin himself barely knows.

After finishing law school, Jongin jetted off and instead of pursuing additional higher education, he went to find peace in the world. He’s been in Peru for the last few months, learning the language and organically getting through day to day life without phone and internet. It helped him clear his mind, sending handwritten letters and postcards to his sister alerting her that he’s still alive and doing quite well.

The moment he learned about what had happened back home, he was in the airport with a shiny, newly bought phone in hand. The original plan was to get in the next flight to Thailand which he immediately discarded.

Seoul is bustling. There hasn’t been a drastic change since he left almost five years ago. Kim Mixed Industries, which he is to largely inherit one day, still remains to be toppled from its position on top of the food chain even after the drastic scandal that had rocked it along with the nation’s economy.

He heads for their parents’ main residence which is located in a heavily gated area exclusive for the richest of the country. The house is a fifteen thousand square foot mansion, in the middle of a ten hectare land. Jongin hasn’t been home in so long, but the house largely did not change. The first thing he does is head to the office, where the door is opened, surprisingly, by his own father.

“Your sister had taken the blame for everything I’ve done.”

Jongin would be lying if he is to say that he knew nothing of his older sister’s rocky relationship with their parents. Jihoon and Miran didn’t exactly treat their oldest like they did their youngest. Jongin has a handful of good memories with his sister, in retrospect that’s the only thing he remembers. Junmyeon made sure to steer him away from bad things, bad circumstances.

But they sent her away. She was nine, he was five and the next time they saw each other, a decade passed. They have changed. They weren’t children anymore. And Jongin was witness to everyday battles. It never really ended. Junmyeon sustained deep wounds. Jongin knew she was cracked in too many places but Junmyeon never broke, not in front of him, at least. She would disappear for days on end after silent screaming matches they thought went unheard, maybe it’s then that she fixed herself  since she always came back. Maybe for Jongin more than anybody else. His sister has always loved him.

“Jonginnie you have to be a  good person more than anyone else, alright?”

“Jonginnie don’t let them decide anything for you. You deserve to be happy.”

“Jonginnie, love you.”

Jongin does not really know what to say. Unlike Junmyeon, his relationship with their parents was alright. Natural. They never forced anything on him, allowed him to pursue law school in a foreign country, they didn’t stop him when he and Sujeong became more than friends, nor they stopped him from going after his creative inclinations. They never put that much pressure on him like they did to Junmyeon.

And maybe he should have been angry then, he should have protected her as much as she, him. But Junmyeon was the strongest person in Jongin’s life. She never asked anyone to step up for her, never allowed herself to look vulnerable. Jongin thought that she didn’t need him to help her fight her battles. It angers him. He’s mad at himself and the people he call parents.

 “How can you do that? Does she mean so little to you, dad? Does she mean anything at all? After every sacrifice she did for you and mom, you just casually threw her under the bus.”

“I know, son. I have never been a good father. That is why I am trying to rectify my mistakes by admitting the truth. I had it coming and it is time your sister lives her life the way she wants it to.”

“I always believed in you dad.” Jongin says, “It’s disappointing.”

“I am sorry, Jongin. But I need you this time, to hold on to your sister’s hard work while I try to fix my mistakes. I owe her that much.”

“I don’t think the board will allow you to appoint someone as interim again, considering what you just did.”

“I still own more than half of the conglomerate. I will do whatever I can to protect it, and that must include you.”

Jongin looks away. He’s exhausted from the long haul flight and he has yet to change into fresh clothes. “I’ll do what I can. I’m going to go see her.”

//

There is a bedroom in Junmyeon’s office. It’s sparse, housing nothing else but a bed and necessary items like a side table and a small wardrobe. Junmyeon wakes up in the place, half sprawled on Yifan’s body.

She is still weak, but largely better from the crisis she was in yesterday. The conversation they’d left hanging, needs to be addressed but honestly, Junmyeon has yet to come to a decision. It seems unfair for their child, to be brought to this world while Junmyeon struggles with back to back lawsuits and juggling positions in the company. On the other hand, a living, breathing testament of her love for Yifan doesn’t seem so bad.

Jesus. Her thoughts are scrambled, nothing is adding up and Junmyeon is so tired of everything.

A knock on the door jolts Yifan awake and successfully derails Junmyeon’s train of thought.

“Junmyeon?” Baekhyun calls from the other side of the door. She assesses her current situation and decides that Baekhyun has seen her in far more compromising positions to care. “Come in, Baek.”

The door cracks open, Baekhyun gives her a short glance and shakes his head in dismissal. “Myeon, someone’s here to see you.”

“Who is it?” Yifan grumbles, left arm extending towards the side table to retrieve his glasses. Junmyeon grins at his half asleep state. She doesn’t immediately see the person that peeks behind Baekhyun’s shoulder.

“Hi, noona.”

Jongin has a certain spark to him. He always reminds Junmyeon of sunshine, and for so long Junmyeon lived to protect that sunshine, to never let anyone dull the spark. Jongin is just an inherently happy human being who wears his heart on his sleeve.

They’ve talked about the conglomerate, about the scandal, and everything else in between. Jongin understood the consequences of what their father had done. It was a heavy discussion. Junmyeon does not want Jongin to worry, or to even associate himself with the conglomerate until the problems are ironed out. As usual, she is ready to handle everything, so when the time comes for Jongin to take over, it wouldn’t be in this state of absolute chaos. Jongin wasn’t having any of Junmyeon’s martyr tendencies. “I don’t need you to save me, noona. What I do need is for you to sit down and take care of yourself for once in your life.”

Junmyeon realizes that Jongin is not a child anymore. Jongin has experienced his own pain, and that sometimes the world just didn’t give, it took. Jongin still had his sunshine, but he also had this hardened edge to him. He’s not a soft little boy anymore.

“None of this is your fault.” Jongin says. “Dad said so. He wants to fix his mistakes. I know you’ve always been at odds with him, but this time, he regrets what he’s done to you. You’ve done enough for all of us, noona. It’s time we take care of you in return.”

It’s a crossroad in the siblings’ lives. One way or another, Jongin needs to face his responsibilities and Junmyeon needs to quit sheltering him from the world. Her mind goes to the future she badly wanted to have with Yifan, something that could only seem like a faraway reality until this very moment. She looks at her brother, gives him a small familiar smile. “Please, you just want to overthrow me from my kingdom.”

Jongin laughs, “Honestly, I’d rather be a trust fund baby until the day I die but sadly, I have responsibilities.”

Junmyeon laughs.

“I’m not going to abandon you, Nie.” Junmyeon ruffles his unruly hair, “But I will need a lot of assistance. Also, I’m having a baby.”

“Congratulations.” Jongin idly says, leaning into Junmyeon’s touch. “Wait - what?!”

“Apparently, you’re about to become an uncle.”

Jongin’s face is indescribable. “What? Wait, how did that happen?”

The older sibling laughs. She’s happy despite the disadvantageous circumstances and her rather debilitated state of health. “Well, to cut the chase I got laid, quite spectacularly I suppose now that there’s a child on the way.”

Jongin’s olive skin flushes. Adorable. “God please, I don’t wanna hear about your life. But anyway, no more work for you -”

“Junmyeon!” the door opens to a harried looking Byun Baekhyun. He grabs the remote to the television in Junmyeon’s office and switches the appliance on which opens to the same news channel they’ve been monitoring for a month now. “You need to hear this.” The man seems ecstatic about the news, which really has not been the case for everyone involved within the conglomerate in the last month. Junmyeon watches the middle aged news anchor bore holes at the camera. The man enunciates his words in an atypical narration that he made something as trivial as the weather seem interesting. Junmyeon catches on to phrases. A whistleblower has surfaced, allegations of bribery and fraud accused against Kim Mixed Industries current Chief Finance Officer, Kim Howon.

“Damn right.” Baekhyun crosses his arms against his chest. His expression weirdly victorious. “No offense dearies, but that cousin of yours gives me anxiety. I always somehow knew there was something off about him.” Junmyeon shakes her head. It’s not entirely a good thing, this just means the rest of the board who’s relatively innocent will have more reasons to uproot everyone who’s related by blood to the chairman, including Junmyeon, Jongin and their inherently sly cousin. “I don’t think we’ll get out of this unscathed, but as long as the investigation proceeds, I’m going to try my best to alleviate the situation. This has become such a huge ing mess.”

“Oh no you don’t.” Jongin cuts in. “Let me handle it, noona. I can be your personal ghost employee.”

Junmyeon glances at her brother, smiling. “We’ll measure our options, but for now what we can do is hope.”

//

“Our baby is a traitor.”

The morning sickness kicks in at the second month, coming in like a sixty foot tidal wave plowing Junmyeon to the ground. Suddenly, she couldn’t eat most food that usually delighted her. Pineapples become sandpaper in her tongue, lasagna smells like death swathed in tomatoes. No coffee, only doctor approved herbal tea and god forbid, alcohol. Junmyeon will emerge a changed woman after this child comes out.

It’s five am, and she’s curled over a toilet bowl with Yifan’s broad palm rubbing down her back. “I’m sorry, Myeon. But trust me, it’ll pass soon.”

“Then I’ll have the most voracious appetite, the most unexpected mood swings, and I’m going to be large.” Junmyeon remarks dryly after brushing her teeth and gargling some mouth wash. “Sounds like the experience of a lifetime.”

Yifan just shakes his head. “Come on, let me check you.”

He pricks her finger and checks her blood sugar with a device they have stashed in the bathroom cabinet after Junmyeon decided she’d have their baby. He frowns at the readout.

“I’m going to get you some chocolate, then you’ll have to eat some every time you wake up in the morning. Hopefully, it’ll do something about your sugar so you’re not queasy all the time.”

Junmyeon smiles. “Glad that my boyfriend is my doctor.”

“I’m not your doctor, love. We’ll go see Jihyo and hear what she has to say about you and peanut.”

The way Yifan looks at her through their reflection is almost fascinating. He’s so different these days, happier somewhat. Junmyeon is scared of confronting the gaping future that lay ahead of them. It’s complicated, with a child on the way, and a couple of lawsuits to boot. “You’ll be alright.” He tells her, kissing the back of her neck. Junmyeon leans against his chest. He’s still so warm, Junmyeon can fall asleep like this. “Let’s go back to bed.”

In her fourth month of pregnancy, Jongin finally manages to force her to really look after herself and herself alone. After a minor bleeding scare, the men in her life backed her up into a place she couldn’t really escape. Junmyeon will get soft without the constant pressure from work so she asks Baekhyun to smuggle information for her, some paperwork here and there. She visits Jongin in a weekly basis. The younger adapted fast. He works with an almost clinical efficiency, even the board is impressed considering that he’s merely an informal stand in for Junmyeon.

The lawsuit trial spirals into its fifth month. Kim Howon was vehement yet scathing when he denied all the accusation pinned on him. Junmyeon thinks he lied to the prosecutors and now it’s almost pitiful that she can see him lie through his teeth. They don’t really like each other. Howon is not a distant relative but Junmyeon only exchanged words with him in the boardroom. She knows he’s not thrilled that their grandfather chose to pass the conglomerate to Kim Jihoon, bypassing Howon’s father. She knows he hates her and Jongin. It wouldn’t be a surprise if he was the source of that leak.

But inadvertently, he fed himself to the sharks.

It’s either him or Junmyeon’s father, behind bars . Though the latter has wisely admitted to his crimes, which Junmyeon is somehow oddly grateful for. She doesn’t really owe Kim Jihoon anything. It was his doing and it’s fair that he face the consequences.

//

She can’t sleep. The clock on the bedside table tells her it’s a few minutes past eleven in the evening. The whir of the AC unit is the only sound apart from her quiet breathing. Junmyeon wants to figure out what’s making her mind race a mile a minute. It’s not the paperwork smuggled from Jongin’s desk in the office, nor the mathematical theorems she’d been casually working on before going to bed.

It’s unnerving, like an omen.

Or maybe it’s thirst, because Junmyeon’s not going to eat catsup filled pie in this godforsaken hour. The cravings can go screw themselves. She tries to close her eyes, but not five minutes later, their daughter finally settles onto her bladder and forces Junmyeon out of the bed, sighing. “Chanhee, you’re making things really hard for mama tonight.”

Chanhee, that's their peanut’s name. When they first heard her heartbeat and saw her cradled within Junmyeon’s belly, both cried. Junmyeon blames her tears on the pregnancy hormones, Yifan didn’t have anything to blame for his. It’s then that Junmyeon realized she wants to keep this family forever.

The brief restroom run has Junmyeon’s entire system oddly alert. She is more awake than ever, thoughts still racing.

Waddling to the kitchen, Junmyeon grabs a glass, not minding the front door which opens revealing Wu Yifan, who slowly approaches her. When their eyes meet, Junmyeon lets out an uncharacteristic yelp and the glass she was holding meets its undignified end on the floor. “Yifan what the hell?!”

The man is as exhausted as ever. She watches him rake his hair away from his face.

“I’m sorry for startling you. Let me clean that.”

//

The living room lighting is dim, the wooden floor is cold under their feet, the surrounding is quiet.

“We had our collective pregnancy sob story Tuesday at the club today.”

Yifan is sat on the couch while Junmyeon finds herself on his lap, her side to his chest. She is heavy, but Yifan hardly cares.

Junmyeon allows the man to nuzzle her cheek, planting soft kisses down her jaw. She leans against his warm front, his fingers idly caress her thigh.

“I’m sorry, I missed out today.”

“It’s alright.” His touch is so comforting, it almost lulls Junmyeon to sleep. “Baekhyun was with me. He gets overly flirty with pregnant women hounding him but he’s okay. He likes doing the Kegels with us.”

Yifan chuckles and softly palms her protruding belly. “So what sort of sob story did you relay to the ladies?”

“Nothing. But now that we’re all in the third trimester, they were very particular about self confidence. They were saying that they don’t feel beautiful, though I’m not sure in what sense. Baekhyun tells me that most of the guys rather enjoyed looking at their partners during this time and they say nothing but praises, apparently.”

“Oh. Do you feel like that?”

“I don’t know.” Junmyeon quietly says, finally figuring out what made her restless. “Should I feel like that? Is it normal not to feel like that?”

“You don’t have to, Myeon.” Yifan sighs. “I don’t say it enough, do I? I don’t tell you that you’re the most beautiful human being I’ve ever laid my eyes on, enough.”

Junmyeon groans. “No, shut up. It doesn’t sound like you.”

“You don’t need it.” Yifan mouths at her neck. “After we split and the next time I saw you again, you could have had me on the floor. So confident. The way you commanded that boardroom full of egotistical fools was ing y. God, I was furious at you but let me be honest, I wanted you then and there.” He squeezes her thigh. “You changed, Junmyeon. You changed in a good way. You’ve always been beautiful even when you had so much to deal with on your plate and wore those dark lipsticks. Then you came back and became this amazing woman who’s self assured without being arrogant, who’s genuinely kind, who wants to make a positive impact to the world. You’re so beautiful and you know that you don’t need me to tell you.”

The heat that crawls up from her neck at the words makes her feel like a teenager on her first date. She buries her face on his neck, refusing to meet his gaze because she’ll go up in flames. “Yes. Please don’t. It’s embarrassing to hear these words from you, damn it.”

“What I do want you to know,” Yifan once again squeezes her upper leg, the touch a tad bit more ual than the rest. “Is that, I appreciate these thighs so much. I love them.”

Junmyeon is aware. Her skin still blooms with purple discoloration from the night before, most are concentrated on said thighs. “I know. You took your sweet time marking them.”

Yifan chuckles, “That’s your fault.”

Well, she did practically jump his bones. “Can’t argue with that.” Junmyeon sighs.

A sudden quiet befalls upon them. Yifan seems content pressing small kisses all over her skin but Junmyeon senses that he feels restless. When he finally feels up to talking, minutes had elapsed and the night grows darker.

“There was an accident earlier.” Yifan begins, “A truck lost control on the freeway, plowed through a sedan and almost crushed the driver. EMT wheeled him into the ER half dead. The on call trauma spec took one look at him and I knew there was nothing I could do. Patient flatlined twice in the OR, couldn’t revive him the third time.”

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” Yifan fiddles with her fingers, pale and delicate. “Used to it. But I had to deliver the bad news to the woman who’s the deceased’s emergency contact. She was his girlfriend and she was pregnant, Myeon, probably on her third trimester too. She didn’t sob, just sat there and thanked me for trying. I wanted the floor to open up and swallow me whole.”

“You don’t have control over these things, Yifan. Please, be gentle on yourself.”

“I know.” Yifan’s exhale is unsteady. “One of the medics found an engagement ring in the man’s shredded coat pocket. The box was near flattened. They gave it to her when they released the body. I saw her as I was exiting the hospital, she looked shattered. She didn’t deserve that Junmyeon. Her child doesn’t deserve to grow up without a father.”

Junmyeon tangles his shaking fingers with his. “Everything happens for a reason, Yifan. Even bad things.”

“It finalized my decision.” Yifan says. “I’m so tired of seeing people lose the ones they love. I’m not strong enough.”

“You are. But if it’s getting too impossible for you to deal with, then you need to breathe for a while. You deserve to pursue things that won’t be detrimental to your mental health. Your job physically exhausts you as it is. It breaks my heart to see you like this, Yifan. I just want you to be happy.”

“I am happy. That’s why I decided to resign from Sun Medical.”

Junmyeon can only look at him. “Really?”

“My job will take me away from you, physically and mentally. And right now, nothing is more important than you. You’re my family Junmyeon. ”

“As long as you’re doing it with your well-being in mind. I support you.” Junmyeon smiles. “I love you.”

He stares at her, with her fingers through her hair; long, dark and unbelievably luscious as a side effect of her pregnancy. Yifan mentioned that he adores it. Junmyeon often woke up to his gentle, lingering fingers carding through the locks.

Then suddenly, he shifts and fishes a small velvet box from his pocket. “I bought this two years ago. Slightly drunk, and going insane with the fact that I missed you so damn much.”

The ring is simple, a thin silver band with a singular diamond encrusted on its surface. “Back then, you were gone. I was convinced I’d never see you again, but I continued having these fanciful dreams. Maybe one day, you’ll return and then.” Yifan slides it on her finger, where it sits perfectly. “I can put this ring on your finger and ask you to marry me.”

Junmyeon stares at the glinting piece of jewelry around her finger.

“So, marry me?”

Their daughter kicks, and Junmyeon leans to kiss him. “Of course.”

//

A week later, Judge Heo Yongpil of the Seoul district court bangs the gavel after uttering his ruling. Kim Jihoon is sixty-nine years old when he is sentenced to pay 85 billion Korean won in restitution for embezzling and tax evasion charges. The court has been soft on him and he sees the ruling as a sign. Maybe he is not too old to change, maybe he can still change. Maybe it is not too late for a guilt ridden old man. It is not too late, as long as he is still alive.

His granddaughter will be born in a couple of months and he wants to start changing into a better person for her. Maybe Junmyeon will find it in herself to forgive him.  

On the other hand, Kim Howon asks to appeal to his ruling when he receives a five year sentence and to pay 400 million Korean won for damages incurred. He is charged guilty for bribery and multiple counts of fraud. In the end, Junmyeon was right. He was the source of the leak, but he hadn’t been clever enough to avoid getting caught with his own dirty laundry.

The result is a cascade, a crackdown into chaebol families and their ever looming presence, capitalists who control the economy like it’s a marionette. Junmyeon allows it to happen, like a purge. The bad is weeded out, there is no good, but the necessary evil is tolerated, controlled and organized. Somehow, the calamity had steered Kim Mixed Industries into a better road.

Truly, a blessing in disguise.

Chanhee Wu-Kim is born in the twenty-first day of June, a few minutes after the clock strikes two in the morning. She has her mother’s gorgeous amber eyes and her father’s near olive skin tone. She is beautiful, everyone says so. The entire hospital staff that assisted with the delivery is enamored, and without even realizing it yet, she has her uncle Jongin wrapped tightly around her finger.

The first time Junmyeon sees her daughter, she thinks of her happiness and the lengths she’s willing to undertake to preserve it. She doesn’t pray that much, Junmyeon has never been that religious anyway, but just once, she prays for Chanhee. She prays that she may always be happy, surrounded with people that want nothing for her but happiness and love. Chanhee sleeps against her chest, recognizing the warmth and the protection of her mother, and smiles.

When the child is handed to Yifan, the doctor just stares, stares until he cries. He is probably oblivious to the liquid trailing down his cheeks as he carefully swaddles their daughter, his peanut, the love of his life (next to the woman who brought her into this world.) The feeling is encompassing, and he is usually good with words, with explanations but not this time. Cradling his newborn in his arms transcends the realm of emotions. It’s like magic. Yifan is lost for words.

“Thank you.” He presses his lips on Junmyeon’s forehead and he stays there, hoping that somehow Junmyeon would understand the depth of his feelings, understand something that he cannot bring into words. “I love you, so much.”

Junmyeon understands. She just does. “I love you too, so much.”