“Let’s go.”

Heechul pauses, glancing at Kyuhyun who utters those words wearily. “Where exactly are we going?”

There’s a long hesitation before Kyuhyun responds. “The headquarters.”

A million questions race through his mind at the same time, but he remains silent as he follows behind Kyuhyun. What are you trying to hide from me?

“Hyung?”

He turns his head to glance at Kyuhyun. “Yes?”

You don’t usually call me that.

“I’m sorry.”

He accepts the apology and they continue to walk.

He doesn’t know what the apology is for, and he already knows that Kyuhyun wouldn’t tell him even if he asked; so he simply accepts it ahead of time, aware that he’ll know soon enough what it’s for.

That’s how they’ve always been.

He strides into the headquarters, ignoring the quick glances from the numerous faces that he can’t put names to; he assumes they’re either the normal wide-eyed stares that he gets from rookies, or perhaps it’s due to the fact that he’s strolling in completely vulnerable, in a hoodie and sneakers, alongside his partner who is still dressed in his pyjamas.

“You look like an idiot,” he speaks to Kyuhyun bluntly, with a faint gesture to his outfit of choice.

“I stepped out of my house to check on you, it’s not like I was waiting for Yesung to attack me or for the headquarters to summon us,” Kyuhyun hisses back.

He doesn’t bother with a reply, knowing how much it pisses Kyuhyun off.

You came to check on me?

Why?

In that instant, Heechul is acutely aware that his partner knows a lot more about him than he knows about his partner.

He turns down familiar corridors and past closed doors, ignoring hushed greetings or respectful bows, only bothering to acknowledge the few faces that he can actually recognise - kind of - like that woman with red-brown hair who has been here a little after him, or the tall black-haired man who was here when he first joined, or the guy with golden-brown hair who he’s seen in the office a few times.

The doorknob is cool to the touch, and it turns easily at the twist of his fingers - he enters and shuts it soon after Kyuhyun trails into the room, not bothering to ask why his partner was even in his room; he focuses on grabbing daggers, opening the case that contains a few of his wicked silver weapons and taking out two.

He doesn’t know why he’s taking dual daggers, but there’s a nagging feeling within him that urges him to.

What exactly is this talk going to entail?

His eyes grow sharp, any signs of weariness long faded.

His instincts are rarely wrong.

“Let’s go, Heechul.” Kyuhyun’s voice is soft, more sombre than usual, and he refuses to meet Heechul’s gaze. He opens the door with a tiny creaking sound, gesturing for his partner to exit first.

Heechul doesn’t ask.

He steps out, hearing Kyuhyun shut the door and follow closely behind him. He treads the corridors that he can walk in his sleep, turns corners that twist around the building to reach the office. He turns the chipped doorknob and swings the door open silently without knocking as he always does, and Kyuhyun enters behind him with a hasty greeting.

He freezes.

“Kim Heechul, I have been waiting.”

“What have you done?” he chokes out, his tone harsh with fury intermixed with disbelief. He can feel his spine stiffening, feel his fingers instinctively curl around his daggers. “Why are you doing this?”

As he lays his eyes on the three figures, he can feel his heartbeat faltering in his chest as shock courses through his veins; one stands tall, imposing, arms crossed over his chest - the other two remain slumped on the ground, their eyes practically begging Heechul to help.

“You were taking too long to do your job.” The grey-haired man taps his fingers on the desk, letting out a horribly loud sound in the too-quiet room. “You were supposed to be my star killer. Why are you taking so long?” He walks out from behind his desk, coming nearer to Heechul; Heechul reels away in partial disgust, almost crashing into Kyuhyun.

“There was no deadline set,” Heechul spits frigidly, “Why should my schedule be of concern to you, sir?”

His voice is dripping with frozen mordancy, and he doesn’t bother to conceal it. “I told you that I would get the job done. I don’t fail.”

“But why were you so close to failing?” The man releases a small, unimpressed sneer. “As far as I’m aware, your partner here saved you when you were a few moments away from death, bleeding out in a deserted alley. Pretty pathetic, if you ask me.”

Heechul’s emotions are coloured the deep red of harsh anger; he can hear his heart pounding in his ears, he can hear some wild creature - some foul devil - within him screaming at him to lash out. He tightens his grip on his daggers, holding them close till his knuckles turn white from exertion.

“I said,” his throat is tight, constricted with compressed fury, “I don’t fail at what I do.”

The man’s gaze flicks behind him. “Kyuhyun.”

“What is it?”

“We