The first thing they did was stop by Jongup's apartment. Information was still coming through from Daehyun, Youngjae and Junhong, so instead of waiting in the car Himchan followed Jongup up the stairs and into his home to fill him in on any new developments.

“I won't be long.” Jongup said as he tossed his coat onto the couch and Himchan nodded his head.

“Take your time.” He replied. Jongup crossed the small living room and disappeared through a doorway opposite, leaving Himchan to look curiously around the space. It wasn't big, but it was comfortable, lived in. The front door opened up into the living room, while the kitchen lay through a door to the right, and on the left was a row of tall bay windows looking out over the street below. There wasn't a lot of furniture, just a couch and a simple table, then a large bookcase built from the floor to the ceiling. Books took up the majority of the shelf space of course, but there were other things dotted between, picture frames and trinkets that didn't look worth much more than currency of sentiment.

The sound of cupboards and drawers opening and closing came from the next room while Himchan slowly stepped closer and looked curiously at a blue framed photo sitting just below eye level in between an encyclopaedia and an atlas. It was three boys, probably between ten and fifteen grinning toothily into the lens with their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders. Jongup was easily recognisable as the smallest tucked in the middle, and the boys on either side each held onto him tight as they laughed. Even from just a glance it was obvious they were brothers, everything about them was nearing on identical, from the shape of their eyes to the crooked teeth peeking out from between parted lips.

“Have you been to Busan before?” Jongup's voice came from the next room and Himchan straightened up.

“Yeah, a couple times. Not for a while, though.” He said and tucked his hands into his pockets, “You?”

“Never.” Jongup's voice was muffled, and Himchan took half a step to the side until he could just see around the doorframe and into the bedroom. Jongup stood with his back to the door, in the middle of pulling his shirt over his head. He should have looked away, but Himchan hesitated when he saw the way muscles moved and tensed under taught skin, smooth other than a handful of long healed scars marking patterns and shapes. A bag was sitting open on the bed beside him, and once his button down had been tossed aside, he grabbed hold of a discarded t-shirt, and a sweater to pull on over the top.

“Anything else come from HQ?” He called again, and Himchan quickly stepped back before he could be spotted.

“Nothing yet.” He turned around so his back was towards the bedroom and jumped in surprise when he came face to face with the big black eyes of a cat. Her tail swished back and forth slowly as she slipped out from beneath the coffee table and looked, unimpressed, up at him.

“Hello...” He greeted her. She just blinked at him and sashayed disinterestedly past, then found a spot in the sun where she stretched her legs out in front of her and arched her spine, “I didn't know you had a cat.”

“You didn't ask.” Another cupboard opened and shut, then the sound of a zipper whirring closed.

Himchan folded his arms over his chest and watched her lay herself out on the floor with her tail still swishing side to side, “What's her name?”

“Goyangie.” Jongup called back and Himchan quirked an eyebrow.

“Why did you call your cat 'Cat'?” He asked, just as Jongup came out. His bag was slung over his shoulder, and his hair was slightly ruffled.

“Because she's a cat.” He replied.

“Will she be alright here on her own?” Himchan glanced down towards her again, continuing to ignore them both.

Jongup nodded, “I'll text the Ahjumma next door. She looks after her whenever I need to travel for work.” He grabbed his coat again and pulled open the door, “Let's go. We have a long drive ahead.”

They left Seoul behind and headed south on the freeway through Seongnam that bypassed Suwon and veered east at Yongjin. Towns and cities rose up around them, then fell away again as patchwork patterns of worked fields and thinning forests wrapped around the road. Jongup thought that after a while they would blur into one, but while clouds began to build patterns on the horizon he watched keenly as they passed snow laden fields of mud and wondered what it was that grew there in the warmer seasons. Green stems of corn, maybe, or swaying reeds of wheat, maybe even golden pastures of canola whose seeds hadn't been able to take through the harsh freeze of the lingering winter. It must be so beautiful in spring and summer when the crop's blossoms bloomed and swayed like ocean's of green caught in the currents the wind gave them, and again in Autumn when the harvest time came. There was something about Winter, though, that always made Jongup feel warm inside. There was something about Winter that reminded him of home.

They stopped at a truck rest just South of Sangju, near where Highway 45 intersected with 30, and watched as the sun set behind the mountains. Jongup leant against the side of the car and gazed out over the browning river, while Himchan sat on a nearby picnic table with a cigarette smouldering between his lips. They'd stopped passing snow somewhere between Chungju and Mungyeong, and as the land grew more and more uneven, fields of pasture grew fewer and further between until they faded altogether to be replaced with steep escarpments, white tipped with roots that stayed lush and evergreen.

The wind was picking up while rays of fading sunlight shone out from behind the mountains and set the sky alight, and Jongup watched indigo birds gripping onto nearby branches and searching for carrion in the underbrush. Their long grey beaks were hooked forward and their bulging eyes black and beady as they gathered together in the trees, singing in dysphoric harmony like an omen.

“Look.” Jongup said and pointed towards them.

“What are they?” Himchan asked, his words coming out in tendrils of smoke.

“They're Rooks.” Jongup replied, and glanced over his shoulder back towards Himchan, “They're the first birds to fly north again after winter. Their coming is a sign that Spring's not far off.”

“Tell them to hurry it up. Before I lose hope that it'll ever come at all.”

They spotted the lights of Busan flickering on the horizon long before they crossed over into the city limits. The mountains had parted ahead and the winding freeway slipped between them like majestic double doors and carried them towards the sea and the golden arches of the Gwangandaegyo bridge built across the water and disappearing into the sky.

Daehyun had sent them the address of the hotel he booked, and Jongup dictated the directions to Himchan as they went from main roads to side streets, to winding alley ways built in behind the long miles of rust red and pine green shipping containers stacked on top of one another along the seaside.

“It should be here, on the right.” Jongup said and leant forward to glance out the window. A little way down the road was a rundown brick building, built with two stories and a fuchsia pink neon sign flickering out front that read Pinky Paradise.

Himchan pulled over on the side of the road and with his hands still at ten and two on the steering wheel he leant forward to read the sign and calmly proclaim, “One of these days, I am going to kill Jung Daehyun.”

Checking in was easy. The man positioned behind the desk took the fake name Daehyun had used to book the accommodation without a second glance, nor a request for ID, and Jongup figured it was his reasoning for choosing a less than reputable establishment. They took the stairs up to their room in silence, and when Himchan unlocked the door (with a disconcertingly fuzzy key), it creaked slowly inwards and when his palm hit the light switch the bulbs flickered momentarily in protest, before finally relenting and turning on. Together in the doorway, Himchan and Jongup took in the room. The carpet was a garish red that matched the partially faded curtains covering the small window overlooking the car park and street below, while the wallpaper was a pasty grey. It wasn't very well furnished, other than two small bedside tables and an uncomfortable looking arm chair, and of course the one large bed positioned in the centre of the room.

“Oh yes.” Himchan said again, “I am definitely going to kill Jung Daehyun.”

He stepped over the threshold and dumped his bag on the floor, while turning around to take in the room again now that he was inside of it. Jongup watched how Himchan's lips pursed and his brows furrowed, but he didn't hesitate in gesturing to the bed, “You take it. I'll sleep on the floor.”

Jongup frowned, “No, you should have it. I don't mind.”

“I've slept in worse places than this, Jongup. Take the bed.” His voice didn't leave room for argument, and Jongup relented with a nod of his head.

“Alright.”

Files were coming through from HQ fast, covering everything from the victim's toxicology reports, to details about Golden Lotus' past executions, some of which having been committed less than a kilometre from where Himchan and Jongup were to spend the night. Time passed in silence as they sifted through page after page on their respective computer screens, Jongup with his legs crossed on the bed, Himchan leaning back in the rigid arm chair beneath the window. It was around midnight when Himchan gathered blankets from the cupboard and spread them out across the floor, while Jongup slipped easily between tightly fitted sheets, and they fell asleep listening to the sound of nearby waves crashing, cars passing on the road, foghorns out at sea, and the rhythmic breaths of each other.

*

Busan woke up grey and wanting. It wasn't as cold as Seoul, and the clouds not strong enough to carry snow were heavy laden with imminent rain as they rolled in across the ocean. They were the first thing Jongup noticed when he woke up, with his face towards the window, the second was the pile of folded blankets stacked on the seat of the arm chair, and the third was that he was alone. The hotel room was even worse in the sunlight, and beneath the window Jongup could see where the paint was cracking and peeling back from the plaster around the skirting board, while the crimson carpet was stained in patches from mud, or coffee, or something else he absolutely did not want to know. He pushed himself to sit and with one hand rubbing at his eye, he used the other to throw back the covers and reach for the shirt he'd tossed at the end of the bed the night before.

The heating wasn't too good, and he shivered as he pulled the shirt over his head and stepped towards the window to peer out. There weren't many cars in the lot anymore, nor driving along the road beyond it, but Jongup spied a silver sedan parked up close behind Himchan's own vehicle, and against it leant the detective deep in conversation with a woman. Each had a cigarette held between their fingers as their arms folded over their chests and they spoke in low voices, nodding along to words Jongup couldn't hear. Himchan's brows were furrowed, like they did when he thought deeply, and Jongup watched as the woman slipped forward a manila folder from where it had been tucked under her arm, and Himchan took it.

The rhythmic buzz of a silenced phone sounded from behind Jongup, and he stepped back from the windowsill to see Daehyun's name lighting up the screen. He grabbed it, swiped, and held it up to his ear, “Morning, Hyung.”

“Morning. You guys make it down safe?” Daehyun's voice was warm and familiar, and Jongup could almost hear him smiling. He had news.

“Mm, it didn't take too long. The hotel you booked is... Nice.” He spared another glance around, and felt his lips twitch upwards when Daehyun laughed.

“Only the best for you guys. Where's Himchan? He wasn't answering his phone.”

Jongup slipped back up alongside the window and peered out. The woman had said something, and Himchan was laughing with his head tipped back and all his teeth showing, while she watched on in amusement, “He's just stepped out. What's up?”

“We found her car. Uniform came across it early this morning. Someone reported it as abandoned, wanted to get it towed from their street.” Daehyun sounded pleased. Jongup could just picked the way he'd be rocking back and forward eagerly on the balls of his feet and a surprising glimmer of affection rolled through his chest. He stamped it down and cleared his throat.

“And it's in tact?” This could be a breakthrough, after all.

“Perfectly. I'm just waiting for Junnie to come in, then we're going to head over there and see what he can get out of it. I already know there's vomit, Junnie is going to be thrilled. Are you guys meeting the boyfriend this morning?”

“Yeah, we're going soon, waiting for the address to come through from Song's people. You'll tell us if you find something, right?” Jongup let the curtains fall closed again.

“Aye aye, El Capitan.”

Himchan returned when Jongup was stepping from the shower. He'd pulled on jeans and underwear, and was rubbing a towel through his hair when the door swung closed.

“Morning.” He greeted.

“Morning.” Himchan replied, without looking Jongup's way. The manila folder he'd been given was tucked under his arm, while he held a paper coffee cup in each hand.

“Sleep well?” Jongup tossed the towel onto his bed.

“Well enough.” The two cups were set on a bedside table, “you?”

Jongup pulled a shirt from the top of his suitcase and pulled it over his head, “Fine.” He gestured with his head towards the folder, “What did you get?”

“It's Song's file on this Lee guy.” Himchan ran his palm down his face. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week, but then again he probably hadn't, “Mostly stuff we know, but a couple of interesting extra tid-bits you can read in the car. She also gave me this.” He set the folder aside and slipped his hand into his back pocket to withdraw a small leather wallet and tossed it to Jongup. It was an ID badge, he saw when he flipped open the folded cover, almost identical to the one he already carried but with the words Busan Metropolitan Police printed at the top.

“The Seoul ones might look conspicuous down here.” Himchan noted, then gestured with his head to the door, “We should go.”

They retraced their steps down winding alleys behind the seashore, then back onto side streets until finally they were shooting along main roads that wound around the mountain roots and down between trees to where suburban sprawl thinned out into properties built overlooking the water. The industrial cranes and shipping crates were silhouettes in the distance shadowed under the tall arches of Gwangandaegyo bridge, easily forgotten as they passed gated estates, fit with designer cars parked in their wide driveways and shrouded in groves of sheoak and pine.

They turned left down another winding street headed towards the waterfront and the bitumen faded into gravel right before they pulled up at a gate as tall as it was wide, and suspended between two stone pillars. An intercom was built into the stone, and caged in a small screen was an exceptionally bored looking security guard. Himchan rolled down his window.

“State your business.” Said the security guard with disinterest.

“We're here to see Lee Taejin.” Himchan answered. Jongup leant forward and watched the guard lift his gaze to peer into the screen at Himchan's face.

“Do you have an appointment?” He asked.

“I don't need one.” Himchan's hand slipped into the inside pocket of his coat and flipped open his wallet to flash his police ID.

The security guard pursed his lips, then the screen went black and the gates opened with a low mechanical buzz and Himchan drove up to the house. It was big, kind of needlessly so, with big windows and obscene pillars that didn't seem to be entirely necessary to the structural integrity of the house. Himchan paused and thought for a moment about what it was about rich people and pillars.

“I count sixteen.” Jongup said, then turned his head to glance out the car's rear window. The gate was already closed behind them.

“Sixteen what?” Himchan quirked an eyebrow, there surely wasn't sixteen of those columns.

“Security cameras.”

Oh.

He was right, of course. They were placed strategically on awnings and posts around the building, so that every inch of surrounding land was easy to monitor. The gate they'd come through was tall, and the stone wall, Himchan imagined, probably wound the whole way around the property, right down to the water front.

“They're likely already watching us.” He said, but even as he placed his hand on the door to push it open he said, “You take the lead, I follow behind. We try to catch them off guard, and get as much information as we can.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Jongup agreed.

As they climbed from the car, the front door of the house was opening, and a security guard stepped out to meet them. His face was stony and serious, and he looked over their ID cards and badges in silence, then gestured with his head for them to follow him over the threshold and into the house. Jongup walked in front, with Himchan trailing him two steps behind with his dark eyes scanning over every inch of the place. It didn't have much soul, he decided immediately. There were no pictures of family or friends, just landscape paintings hanging from the wall evenly spaced out with doorways to various rooms between. Only a few of the doors had been left open, the first appeared like a living room that gave off an air of being outstandingly un-lived-in, the second was a dining space too grand to be anything but impersonal. Before they made it to the third though, they veered left and were lead into a large study, where a man sat behind an ebony desk placed before a wide window and flanked with security guards.

“Sir. Your guests.” The guard leading their way said shortly, and the man looked up.

Lee Taejin looked just as arrogant in person as he did in photographs. There was something about the combination of his crisp suit and styled hair, and the way the right corner of his lips twitched up when he saw them that had Himchan deciding he did not like this man at all.

Jongup strode into the room and stopped a metre before the desk, “I'm DCI Moon Jongup, and this is my partner DCI Kim Himchan. We've come to talk to you about a Ms Song Ahra.”

Lee leant forward in his seat to peer at the ID cards presented to him with a curious arch of his eyebrow, “I've never heard a Seoul accent from a Busan cop before. Haven't you strayed a little far from home?” He asked slyly. Himchan grimaced.

“Have to go where the work takes you.” Jongup replied shortly, then repeated, “We are here to speak to you about Song Ahra.”

“If you're here you'd already know she's my girlfriend.” Taejin leant back in his seat and tossed his pen onto his papers. “What's she done now?”

“Died.” Himchan provided, less than tactfully. Jongup didn't look back at Himchan, but he did notice the way Taejin did.

“What my partner means to say, is that her body was found in Seoul four days ago. We have reason to believe there was foul play.”

“Reason to believe?”

“We are not at liberty to discuss that.” Himchan added in and took a step closer, until he was standing shoulder to shoulder with Jongup.

“When did you last speak to her?” The younger asked. He took a slightly gentler approach, and his expression was sympathetic as he tucked his badge back into the inside pocket of his coat.

Taejin lifted his fingers to run their tips along his lower lip as his brows furrowed over his eyes in what Himchan assumed to be an attempt at looking distressed. His lips twisted and his eyes scanned through the air as though searching for something as he said, “I... I guess it must have been about five days ago. I spoke with her on the phone. She'd gone up to Seoul to do some shopping, but I didn't think...” He pressed his fingertips between his eyebrows and closed his eyes.

“Didn't worry you that you hadn't heard from her for almost a week?” Himchan didn't believe that.

“Ahra is- was- a grown woman. She doesn't need to report her every movement to me.” Taejin responded shortly and Jongup quirked an eyebrow.

“No, she doesn't.” He agreed with a nod of his head, “Though... As her long term partner, it's not so out of the question that you'd just like to talk to her, is it? Ask her how her day was, if she is enjoying her time in Seoul. I understand you used to live there together.”

“I'm a busy man, I don't have time to chat- Moon was it?” Lee's lips pursed.

“So am I, Mr. Lee.” Himchan said, “But if I were lucky enough to have a partner, I'd probably feel some concern if I hadn't heard a single thing from them in five days.”

“Well we must be different men, Officer.” Taejin responded tightly. “And as I said, I don't need to know her every movement. Aren't you supposed to be asking me if she has any enemies, or if I noticed her acting strangely?”

“How would you know if she was acting strangely if you haven't spoken to her?” Himchan countered quickly. He took a step forward, and the security guards stationed behind Taejin twitched forward a fraction of a centimetre.

“Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?” Jongup tried to reign the conversation back in, and thankfully Taejin broken the glare he'd been aiming at Himchan to glance beyond him to Jongup.

“No.” He said, “She was acting perfectly normal. She went to Seoul often, I didn't think anything of it. And she was an angel... Not a person alive didn't adore her.”

Jongup nodded while his eyes glanced slowly around the room. It wasn't overly furnished, aside from bookshelves built against the eastern wall, and the imposing desk that he guessed was chosen for its intimidating size. Natural light poured through the floor to ceiling window with a view overlooking a short stretch of lawn leading down to a break in the trees beyond which he could see the sea. Large container ships were passing slowly, stacked high with rusted red, faded blue and deep green crates coming or going or something in between.

“It's a nice view.” He commented.

“I like watching the ships pass by. It's calming.” Taejin said. His fingers took hold of the pen he'd thrown onto his desk and he brought it up to press the end of it gently into his lower lip, “Is that everything? As you can imagine... This news has been distressing.”

“I understand. For the moment, I think it's all we need. Thank you, Mr. Lee.” Jongup nodded his head, “I'll leave my number with one of your guards. If you remember anything, please give me a call.”

“Do you have her phone?” Lee stopped them, just as they turned to make for the door. A security guard was waiting for them just outside, presumably to them out.

“No. It hasn't been found.” Jongup replied, “Why?”

“There are photographs of us together on there, and I'd like to have them. Sentimental value.” Lee flashed a half smile.

“Her car was found this morning.” Himchan provided. Taejin's shoulders stiffened, and his eyes snapped to focus on Himchan's own, “One of the best forensic scientists in the country will be there, taking a look at it. If it's there, he'll find it.”

“Maybe he will.” Lee nodded, then waved his hand and they were escorted out.

Neither of them spoke until their car was clear of the driveway, and they were leaving the house behind them.

“I don't trust him.” Himchan said, while his thumbs drummed a rhythm on the steering wheel.

“No.” Jongup replied, “Neither do I.”

*

The car was found in an area Daehyun had never been to before. He hadn't lived in Seoul long, only since his service had wrapped up and the familiar parts of Busan had started to feel like a small town in a different world. His Hyung had told him that military service changed a man, he just hadn't been expecting how much. Either way, he didn't think his Hyung had seen what he had, and soon enough the government came knocking and making him offers he couldn't resist. His parent's eyes would water at the pay checks, if they were allowed to know what he did for work.

“Wasn't it a left back there?” Junhong asked and glanced over his shoulder, then glanced back down to the map he was following on the screen of his phone. Putting the two of them together really was the blind leading the blind, one from Busan, the other from even further. The maknae turned his phone around and made a face, “Wait no- my bad, my bad.”

“You seriously can't read a map.” Daehyun sighed. He'd always been good at directions, Junhong... Not so much.

“Yeah well you can't complete a heart transplant.” Junhong replied.

“Neither can you.” Daehyun rolled his eyes.

“Just cause I've never tried it doesn't mean I can't. I'd do a better job than you.”

Daehyun sighed and rubbed a hand down his face,“I need coffee.”

“I need a cigarette.”

“No you don't.”

Up ahead blue lights were flashing, and Daehyun turned left. The street was narrow, it ran along behind a series of apartment blocks, sandwiched in between their garbage bins and the brick wall of an empty warehouse waiting to be demolished. Police tape cut off the street and two patrol cars were stopped just beyond it with uniformed officers milling around, and a hundred metres beyond sat an empty blue sedan.

Daehyun pulled over, and both he and Junhong got out of the car, “DI Jung Daehyun.” He greeted an officer guarding the tape by flashing his badge – a forgery too, claiming he worked for the Seoul PD, “This is Dr. Choi, forensics.”

“Morning.” Junhong greeted with a smile once his case was out of the car and together they crossed under the tape and into the crime scene. Uniform parted to let them through, and while Junhong's eyes were focused on the vehicle ahead, Daehyun looked around the surrounding area.

All of it must have been warehouses once, until the first were torn down in the nineties to build more housing. The apartment blocks were grey and water stained, Brutalist in design though he doubted that was intentional, it was a strangely conspicuous place to dump a car.

“Who found it?” Junhong asked as they approached the vehicle.

“Someone from the building complained that it'd been in a no parking zone for a few days. Uniform ran the plates, and it was passed over to us.” Daehyun said. It was in tact, other than a few scratches on the passenger door. The windows were tinted, and Junhong had to lean closer to peer through them.

“Is that vomit?” He asked with seriously way too much excitement.

Daehyun grimaced, “Yeah, thought you'd like that.”

“You know just what to do to make my day, Hyung.” The maknae gave him a toothy grin and started going about his work. He pulled on his cover-alls first, the funny white plastic things he wore when touching potentially useful stuff. Daehyun had never told him, but he thought he looked kinda like an astronaut when he had them on, either that or an alien.

It didn't take long for Junhong to get the car door open and start poking around inside. He took samples of the vomit on the seat and the floor, then started dusting for fingerprints while his brows furrowed low over his eyes.

“How long do you think you'll be?” Daehyun asked.

“A while, probably.” Junhong had crawled most of the way into the back seat of the car brandishing a pair of silver tweezers. Daehyun wasn't really sure what he was looking for, but he knew their maknae well enough to know it was something important.

After a moment, Junhong climbed dejectedly from the vehicle, “We don't have somewhere of our own to take the car back. I want to find as much as I can now so I don't need to make a thousand trips to the police warehouses.”

“Alright. I'm going to take a look around. You give me a shout if you need me, yeah?”

“You got it, Hyung.”

Daehyun took half the officers and went back the way they'd come, veering left up into the abandoned warehouses. They'd been used for supplies during the war, he understood, metal and wood, things they couldn't afford to lose. It had been over two decades since they'd become derelict, and save from the handful of graffiti tags he saw, there was no sign of people having been there for a long time. Probably a better place to dump a body than the inside of an apartment building, he thought. Unless, whoever put it there wanted it to be found.

“Spread out.” He gestured to the wide expanse of space. Might as well see if they could find something useful.

Junhong spent the better half of an hour inside the car, scouring it for any evidence he could possibly find, while the remaining uniformed officers stayed at a healthy distance back towards the tape. He couldn't quite understand why, but then again he'd stopped being able to really notice the smell of human bodies about three quarters into the first year of medical school. Samples of vomit, strands of hair, dustings of dirt and scraps of rubbish were lined up in neatly labelled jars and evidence bags by his case, but he felt like he was missing something. There was no phone, no bag, wallet or keys anywhere in the car. Surely, they had to be somewhere.

He was half inside the boot of the car when he heard the footsteps approaching, “Find much?” He asked, assuming it was Daehyun coming back from his exploration. Silence. He looked up.

Two men were walking towards him, coming from the other end of the dead end road, dressed all in black with hoods covering their heads.

“Excuse me this is a crime scene, you shouldn't be here.” Junhong said, but the men kept coming. One had something he couldn't see tucked under his arm, and Junhong took a step back on instinct, “I said you shouldn't be-”

His words were cut off when one of the men sailed a hard punch into his stomach that left him gasping for breath while the other wrenched open the car door. He tore into fabric seats and through the glovebox, uncaring as to how much carnage he caused in his desperate search for something.

“Stop!” Junhong tried, but he was hit again, harder this time and he doubled over in pain. Another hit came, and this time he was sent sprawling back onto the pavement. It didn't stop him, though, from kicking out his legs at the other man's shins, earning him a grunt of pain, but his advantage wasn't as great as he thought, and in his attempt to rise from the ground, he was thrown back down again. He kicked again, but this time was dodged and instead a heavily booted foot came down hard onto his right arm with a deafening crunch.

Junhong screamed out in pain and quickly brought his broken arm in to cradle against his chest while watching helplessly as the second man emptied a petrol can over the roof and inside of the torn up cabin, “Stop-” He tried again, but it was too late.

A match was thrown in, and the whole thing went up in flames.

____

A/N:

Hello... So... It's been a while. Sorry for the sudden unannounced hiatus, didn't mean to do that but hey I'm back. I hope everyone had a lovely Christmas, Hanukkah, New Year or anything else you celebrate. This fic is seriously the hardest fic I've ever written, so I'm not sure I can guarantee much of a schedule but it will come when it comes, and I hope it is enjoyed when it does!
Super special thank you to my man lady Laura, who's had my back this past few months and still stayed keen to know what's coming. Also thank you to anyone reading this after approx a thousand years without a chapter.

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