“Jihoon!” Mingi waved at him from across the cafeteria, grinning as he pointed to the seat he’d saved for him. Jihoon gave a slight wave, expression unchanging as he carried his tray of whatever disgusting gunk they were serving that day. He kept his head held high as he walked, not avoiding the stares of the brutes around him, but rather ignoring them. He’d learned pretty early on that the worst thing you can do in prison is act like someone others could make an example of. Unfortunately, even with the right attitude, Jihoon still found himself being looked down on.

He stopped walking, matching the gaze of the 6-foot lug standing in his way, who stood crossing bulging biceps over hormone-injected man-. The eating grin he wore as he stared down at him with an air of confidence to match, had Jihoon raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, shorty.” He drawled, chuckling.

Jihoon sighed. “Can I help you?”

The eyes of the cafeteria patrons were on them now, deafening chattering quieting to amused whispers. Lug-head seemed to get a bit irked at Jihoon’s attitude, stepping further into his bubble.

“Yeah, why don’t you lighten up, sweetheart? A little guy like you could use a friend like me in a place like this, you know?” He chuckled, looking around to his buddies behind him, who jeered him on.

Jihoon made a face of disgust, moving to walk around the man, only to have a strong hand had grab at his shoulder, pulling him back.

“Hey, midget, I’m talking to y-”

Before he could finish his insult, Jihoon had dropped his tray of food, reaching up for the hand that had the nerve to touch him, and pulling down on the man’s wrist. With a shark kick at his ankles, Jihoon was hoisting his 6 foot barbarian stature over his shoulders, whipping him face up onto the concrete floor, with a satisfying crack.

Prisoners taunted the man with heckles, but nobody stepped in. Since this happened so often, the others had started to treat Jihoon’s confrontations like daytime television, and the guards tended to turn a blind eye to such insignificant scuffles.

The man stared up at Jihoon with bewildered, dazed eyes, head spinning.

“Are you new here?” Jihoon scoffed, releasing the man’s wrists and wiping his hands on his sleeves. He continued walking in the direction of his table, falling into his seat with a huff, and turning to Mingi, who watched with a satisfied grin as the man picked himself up off the floor.

Mingi suppressed his laughter, pushing the tray in front of him over, so that Jihoon could get a bite of his food, seeing as that the back of that guy’s shirt was covered in Jihoon’s.

According to prison policy, they weren’t allowed seconds.

“Man, I’m so glad we’re roommates. It’s never a dull day with you, Jihoonie.” He snickered.

Jihoon picked at what seemed to be mashed potatoes, feeling annoyed. “Yeah, well, don’t get too used to it. I’m leaving for probation soon.”

He sighed. “You’re seriously joining that ing program? Come on man, I’m getting out of here in like half a year. If you weren’t going over to play pet for Mansae, we could have been a duo team! I’m telling you, with our powers combined there’s no way we’d get caught.”

One of the guard’s nearby overheard, slamming a truncheon into the wall in warning. “649, if I catch you talking that again, you’re going to solitary! I’m not giving you another warning!”

“Yes sir! Won’t happen again, Sir!” He replied loudly, saluting to the guard with a sly grin.

Mingi was an odd-ball that’s for sure. Despite his feminine face and firecracker personality, he was quite the force to be reckoned with. But, much like Jihoon, he was often underestimated. New guys were always showing up in the cafeteria looking to find their place in the hierarchy. And usually, that meant one of two things: They’d pick a fight with the toughest looking guy in the room, or if they were cowards, they’d find someone weak to bully.

Unfortunately for the latter, Jihoon had made a reputation for himself here.

He supposed that was why Mingi had taken such a liking to Jihoon. And it was good for him that they were associated, because Mingi’s group of ruffian friends were no joke. He had connections everywhere, even with the guards. Hence… why he was given a warning instead of an electric shock when he broke the rules.

Though the way he got those connections were a bit too rated R for his tastes, Jihoon was glad to be on his good side. It had made his time in this place go much smoother than expected. 6 months had gone by like a breeze, and lucky for him, nobody believed him about not having powers. While the power-suppressing collar allowed others to overlook Jihoon, he was free to continue tinkering up inventions to help him get by. One being the strength-enhancing arm brace he wore beneath his uniform.

“Who do you think’s gonna have the pleasure of owning you once you’re out, Hoonie?”

“It’s not like I have a choice.” He sighed. There was no use in guessing, since he already knew the answer. Jihoon scooped up a spoon of vegetables from the tray, munching absentmindedly.

“If it were me, I’d want that Sergeant Coups guy.”

He choked. “Huh? Why him?”

Mingi smirked. “I mean, he’s pretty y… In a dangerous, but goofy, 1950’s superman kind of way.”

Jihoon would admit he was good looking, and he was certainly dangerous, but not in a way Jihoon found y. It was more of a ‘This man could kill me with one hand if he wanted to, and he does’ kind of dangerous.

“I’ve heard he’s a pain in the to get along with, though. And the whole Valiant hero act is nothing but a circus act.”

Mingi tsked. “I could care less if we got along. Body chemistry is much more important, Jihoonie.”

“yeah, yeah.” He grimaced. Somehow, the image of the mighty Sergeant getting seduced into allegiance by Mingi was enough to make him lose his appetite. Jihoon looked around, lowering his voice as he leaned into Mingi’s side. “Speaking of body chemistry, did you manage to get what I asked you for?”

Mingi smirked, tapping Jihoon’s hand under the table as he slid a small device into his palm. Jihoon slipped it up his sleeve inconspicuously. The device stuck to a slab of magnet on his arm-brace, safely out of sight.

“You’re the ing goat, dude.”

Mingi leaned back in his seat. “It was nothing,” he leered. “You know, I could teach you my ways before you leave. Maybe it could come in handy when you’re kissing up to superhero .”

Thinking from the doctor’s perspective, Jihoon might have agreed. But, thinking with his ego and morals on the line, he would have to take a hard pass. “Yeah, I think I’ll manage without your wisdom.”

“Suit yourself,” He chuckled, swiping a piece of toast off the tray to munch on.

-

That night, Jihoon sat with his blanket hoisted over his head, shielding the sparks of light emitting from the sawdering iron. This was the only tool Jihoon had never managed to swipe from the workshop. He’d made a few DIY versions with the scraps he’d been able to trade with other inmates, but they couldn’t compete with the real deal. Mingi was honestly a god-sent roommate.

Jihoon wasn’t only infamous for being a ‘newbie target’. He prided himself in being a grease monkey, so with what little he could get from his connections, he’d spend every other night tinkering.

Hot pans for cooking, electric razors, tools, you name it. He made them simple as to not raise suspicion about his abilities, and in return he got anything he wanted. Contraband, books, and most importantly, entertainment.

Jihoon sawdered the final wire connection, smiling down at his work. If not for this, he probably would have gone mad with boredom being locked up in here…

Utilizing a black t-shirt, Jihoon wrapped up his tools and supplies and shoved them under his bed. When the guards searched the room, they just shun a flashlight around. But, since the t- shirt was black, they’d basically just register it as a shadow.

He lay on his bed, covering his eyes with his palms as he sighed. Three days. Just three days and he was out of here.

Although knowing what was waiting for him on the other side, Jihoon had an awful feeling he was jumping out the frying pan, and into the fire.

-

Seungcheol crashed into the office without so much as a knock at the door, eyes blazing blue as he marched towards the front desk. Mr. Han hardly had time to react, eyes wide in shock as a pager was shoved into his peripheral vision. “Sir, what in the goddamn world is this supposed to mean?”

“S-seungcheol, what a nice surprise.” He stuttered, avoiding his eyes which stared down in a mix of anger and confusion.

He gripped the edge of the wooden desk with a shaking fist, which cracked under the pressure. “Respectfully, cut the crap, Mr. Han. I told you plain and clear that I was NOT interested in joining the CLAP program. So just why am I being paged in to meet my new ‘partner’?”

Mr. Han peered into the device, hand shaking as he adjusted his reading glasses. “Y-yes, you did say that before… But, after that I received notice that you had changed your mind… Was that not the case?”

Seungcheol seethed, tossing his pager to the side. Unfortunately, it was Sergeant proof, so it simply bounced off the wall, landing on the floor intact. “Who told you that? Give me a name, and I will personally bring them here and toss them off the balcony.”

“W-well, nobody in particular told me, but…” He grimaced as the Sergeant closed in on him, waiting for the answer with desperate eyes. “You, you signed a contract, Seungcheol.”

“I did what?”

Mr. Han typed sporadically, pulling up an image on a larger monitor for him to see. “You see? Here’s the list of Superhero’s signed up for the program. You signed a contract to join, so you’re on the list.”

Seungcheol rubbed at his temple with frustrated fingers, willing his eyes and hair to return to their normal colour. “Mr. Han, please, explain to me how I, without my knowledge, signed an entire legal agreement? And why didn’t anyone inform me?”

He hummed. “That’s a very good question… But, well, I haven’t a clue. Are you sure you never looked into the program after turning down my offer? You’ve been on the waiting list for a while now. Well... Until the program recently found a match for you.”

Seungcheol thought long and hard for a moment, until it hit him like a ton of bricks. Was it related to that pamphlet Soonyoung had given him before? He’d thought it was weird that he had to sign a contract just to see information… . “Soonyoung, that scheming son of a-... I’m gonna kill him.” He his heal, ready to hunt down the man who dared to set him up like this. Halting before the doorknob as a knock sounded.

“This isn’t a good time!” Mr. Han shouted, eyeing the chunk of sandalwood Seungcheol had ripped from his new desk.

“Sir? I heard the sergeant was in your office. He was paged earlier and still hasn’t shown up, so I’ve come to him.”

Seungcheol opened the door, glaring down at a smiling Jisoo. “I’m not going.”

Before he could march past, Mr. Han had cleared his throat, gaining his attention once more. “Seungcheol, I’m very, very sorry that such a mix-up has occurred… But, well…” He stared at the floor with a guilty expression.

“But what!” he snapped.

“Well, you’ve signed a contract... So, you see, if you refuse to go, I’m afraid that’s a violation. And, I can’t allow that, even for you.”

Seungcheol’s mouth hung open, looking between Jisoo and Han with a desperate expression. “But-“

Jisoo grabbed him by the wrist, leading him down the hall despite his complaints. “Time to go, Sergeant.”

Seungcheol’s thoughts clashed endlessly as they went. What was worse? getting fired and having his memories wiped, or partnering up with a criminal? He really couldn’t decide.

Amidst his conflict, they had made it to the meeting location, a neutral and protected room in Mansae headquarters, in which Seungcheol would be forced to face the worst mistake of his life. Jisoo opened the door, allowing Seungcheol to enter before him.

It was then that his new ‘partner’ was shoved to face him by a guard. He was suited up with a power-suppressing collar tight around his neck, cuffs binding his hands and feet, and a yellow prison uniform to bring the whole look together. He was small in stature, with straight black hair, pale skin, and hooded brown eyes which looked him in the eye determinedly. Upon laying eyes on him, Seungcheol felt his stomach knotting.

“Sergeant Coups, I’d like to introduce you to your new partner, ex-villain Park Jihoon. But… I believe the two of you may already be acquainted.” The warren explained, eyeing Jisoo with a confused expression.

Jisoo gulped. The system… paired him up with an ex-nemesis? How was that even possible?

“Paladin.” Seungcheol spoke, more of a statement than a greeting.

The boy appeared calm, matching the fierceness of Seungcheol’s gaze with an unwavering expression. “So, we meet again… Sergeant.”

The atmosphere was thick enough to cut with a knife, and for a moment, nobody said anything. They simply watched as the exchange unfolded, and the two of them eyed each other up like two stray dogs waiting to see who’d make the first move.

Before anyone could pounce, Jisoo cleared his throat. “We’ll leave you two alone for a bit.”

Seungcheol crossed his arms and watched in silence as the guards removed the boy’s bindings, everything except for the collar around his neck. ‘Jihoon’ kept standing where he was, rolling his wrists as the others began to leave. Obviously, they had confidence that Seungcheol would be able to handle him. What they hadn’t seemed to take into account, was whether Seungcheol would be able to hold himself back from pumbling this guy into another life.

Jisoo laid a hand on the Sergeants shoulder, smiling innocently. “Be nice, okay?”

Seungcheol frowned, anger dissipating “Right…”

As the door clicked shut, the two of them found themselves alone in a room together once again. Only this time, Seungcheol felt as though he was trapped. The boy before him linked his hands together and shuffled his feet, taking a look around the room.

After a moment of awkward silence, he cleared his throat. “I guess we should start fresh, right?” He held his hand out for Seungcheol, putting on a slight smile. “Nice to meet you?”

Seungcheol didn’t shake his hand, and after a moment, Jihoon was back to fiddling his thumbs.

“I wouldn’t exactly call this meeting nice… and besides, we’ve already met, Paladin…” Somehow, seeing Jihoon’s expression fall at his cold attitude was sending unprecedented pangs of guilt to his brain, but he shoved the feeling aside.

Jihoon seemed to be thinking, of a way to fix the situation. But, seeing that Seungcheol was hell-bent on hating his guts, any attempts at a fresh start were futile.

The boy sighed, brushing his hair back as he fell back onto the couch beside him. “I’m not Paladin anymore. Call me Jihoon.”

Seungcheol, after a moment, sat down across from the boy, arms crossed stubbornly. “Trying to erase your past?” he scoffed.

“Can’t erase spilled ink, but what’s done is done. Didn’t they tell you, Sergeant?” He smiled, gesturing as he spoke. “I’m turning over a new leaf, mending my ways… cleaning up my act.” He thought for a moment, unable to think up another synonym. “Well, you get the point.”

Seungcheol raised an eyebrow. “Didn’t they tell you? I don’t believe any of that nonsense about rehabilitating criminals. We all know the only reason you signed up was to reduce your sentence.”

The boy leaned back on the couch; posture nonchalant. “If you don’t believe in it, then why’d you volunteer to be my mentor?”

Seungcheol felt his anger rising again, suppressing it with a breath. “Trust me, it wasn’t intentional.”

The way that Jihoon smiled at him seriously rubbed him the wrong way, it was as if he knew something. Obviously, he didn’t, but nonetheless, Seungcheol found himself holding himself back from starting a fight. His eyes trailed up to the collar around his neck, indicative that Jihoon was powerless to stop him if he chose to do so.

“So, did you finally own up to your lies?” Seungcheol questioned, staring off the the side of the room in an attempt to ignore his aggravation.

“Huh?”

He pointed to his own neck. “Your collar. Did you finally admit to having powers?”

Jihoon reached up for the collar, running his fingers along the edge with a humored expression. “The only reason I’m still wearing it is because you and the rest of the prison staff refuse to believe me.” He peered up at Seungcheol. “I’m more honest than you guys take me for. Can’t I have the benefit of the doubt?”

“You could if you were innocent in the first place.” He retorted.

Jihoon let out a sarcastic chuckle, shutting his mouth as he thought up a way to change the subject.

Somehow, the longer they sat there, the more leisurely Jihoon seemed to be. In contrast to how tense Seungcheol felt, this guy didn’t seem to have a care in the world. It was honestly infuriating. Even though Seungcheol held all the power in this situation, he found himself unable to look the latter in the eye. And as much as he tried to shove the thought to the very back corner of his mind, he found himself remembering their last encounter.

Seungcheol’s eyes flickered back to Jihoon, who sat staring up at him with rounded eyes. When his heart jumped unexplainably, he looked away again, cursing himself internally.

Jihoon leaned forward with an unwavering expression, finding himself with a need to explain their situation. “I wasn’t the one who set up together, you know.”

“Obviously.” They just happened to be the unluckiest pair in the world. Seungcheol made a note in his head to complain to the research team later. Weren’t they supposed to be set up with people they’d get along with?

He sighed. “But, if were going to be partners until the indefinite future, shouldn’t we at least try to make our time together tolerable? Can’t we let bygones be bygones, and try to think positively?”

Seungcheol said nothing, arms crossed tighter. Hell no. He needed to think of a way to get out of this situation. Seungcheol thought for a moment.

“Look, I know you hate me, and I don’t blame you. But at least for now, shouldn’t we-“

“Stop.”

Jihoon did stop, and only as Seungcheol stood from the couch and walked towards him, did Jihoon’s casual façade begin to break.

Maybe, if Seungcheol wasn’t able to get out of the contract, he’d be able to pressure Jihoon into breaking it for him.

“Let’s get one thing straight first.” He closed in on the boy with a few good strides. Jihoon’s eyes were wide by the time Seungcheol had his hands on either side of him on the couch, leaning forward with an expression that displayed his thoughts loud and clear. “One, You’re right. I do hate you, and any criminal for that matter. So, don’t think for one minute that you and I are going to get all buddy buddy with each other.”

Jihoon was leaning back as far as the couch would allow, mouth ajar as his words caught in his throat.

He leaned in closer, like a wolf closing in on a cornered rabbit. “And two, I don’t care if you’re lying about rehabilitating or not. While you’re under me, you’re going to follow my rules.”

He slipped his hands away from the couch, hands trailing from his narrow shoulders, to the metal around his neck. Holding the edge of the collar on either side, and with a grip that appeared delicate, Seungcheol smiled. “Rule one, don’t talk to me.” With a squeeze, the device was folding in his grip, sparking slightly. “And two, stay out of my way. If you can do that, we’ll be just fine. Otherwise, I advise you to tell the warden you’ve changed your mind about doing the program.”

The collar broke with ease, and Seungcheol tossed it aside with a satisfied smirk, removing himself from Jihoon’s space and heading for the door, heart pounding despite his resolve. That should do it, it would be better for the both of them if Jihoon quit the program out of fear, and went back to prison to serve his time.

But as usual, nothing worked out the way he wanted.

“If I agree to follow the rules, does that mean we’re officially a team?” He called to Seungcheol’s back, an almost amused expression in his voice.

Seungcheol sped up his pace, slamming the door behind him without so much as a response. After the door had shut, Jihoon found himself falling back against the couch in relief, breathing hard. Out of the ing frying pan and into the goddamn fire, he supposed.

He held a hand against his neck, free from that damned collar for the first time in months. He felt a strange sense of ease seeing it in shambles on the floor. Did this, at least, mean he believed him about being powerless?

It was a start… But Jihoon hadn’t a clue how he was supposed turn this tension into friendship.

-

Seungcheol walked out of the room, trudging past Jisoo, who had been waiting outside. “Wait, where are you going, Sergeant?”

He kept walking, as Jisoo sped up to match his stride, clipboard in hand.

“Home.”

“But where’s Jihoon? You’re supposed to take him with you!”

Seungcheol halted, turning to Jisoo as he felt the last of his optimism crumble. “I have to what?”

Jisoo rubbed the back of his head with an awkward smile. “The mentorship program requires you guys to be together almost 24/7, so that you can keep an eye on him.”

Seungcheol felt his stomach twisting. “You don’t mean-”

“He’s gonna be living at your house.” Jisoo finished, oblivious to the whirlpool of emotions Seungcheol was experiencing.

Really, could this day get any worse?