19 :  r e d

Jisoo placed the lid onto the pot and turned the crank. She took a step back and bent her knees to check the flame, and once she was convinced the heat was just right, she wiped her hands on her apron and hurried towards the front door, leaving the soup to simmer. The doorbell had been ringing repeatedly for the past half a minute or so, and Jisoo could only wonder who’d been impatiently jabbing at the button. She looked through the peephole and gasped, opening the front door.

“Donghae-ssi?” she greeted in disbelief, bowing slightly at the unexpected guest. “What brings you here?”

Donghae craned his neck, glancing over Jisoo’s shoulder. “Is anyone home?”

“No,” Jisoo answered, confused. “It’s just me. Are you looking for Sora-ssi? She’s not here right now; she left for work in the morning and said she’d only be back past ten. If I’m not wrong, she’ll be visiting Hyukjae-ssi after work, so if you’re looking for her you could try heading to the hos—”

“I’m not looking for her,” Donghae interrupted, squeezing past Jisoo and taking off his shoes. “I’m looking for you. I need to talk to you.”

Jisoo closed the door and hurried towards the kitchen to make tea, telling Donghae to make himself at home. Donghae had been to Sora’s house many times before with Hyukjae and Jisoo was fond of him. He had always been friendly and kind to her despite her status, so Jisoo had no qualms about trusting him enough to leave him on his own, even if it was just the two of them. Once she’d finished preparing the tea, she returned to the living room, setting the tray on the table.

“So what brings you here?” Jisoo asked again, filling two teacups with oolong. She watched as Donghae ped his messenger bag to retrieve documents fitted snugly into a clear plastic file and waited for him to speak.

Donghae opened the file and pulled out a newspaper clipping, pausing briefly to stare at Jisoo with the most austere set of eyes. He handed it to Jisoo and pursed his lips, observing her reaction. Upon noticing the look of bafflement that grew increasingly obvious as she scanned through the article, Donghae decided to explain himself.

“The boy in the article is me,” he began, watching as Jisoo stared back at him, gaping. “I’m the boy who lost my parents in a freak hit-and-run accident eight years ago. I struggled with memory loss for many years, but now that I’ve regained it, I have a few things I need to take care of.”

Jisoo lowered her hands, unable to hide the shock on her face. “I’m sorry to hear that, Donghae-ssi. I didn’t know you’d lost your parents so tragically.”

“It’s okay,” Donghae reassured, smiling faintly, “but I’m not here to share my sob story. In fact, I’m here to ask you a favour.”

Jisoo tilted her head. “What is it?”

“Do you remember when you told me roughly half a year ago, about how you’d overheard a conversation between Sora and her parents about fleeing the country?”

Jisoo nodded.

“Now think of that conversation, and then think of the article you just read. Any connection?” Donghae slipped the article into the file and waited as Jisoo thought, eyes on the ceiling. She frowned.

“Do you mean to say…..” Her voice trailed off shakily. “.....that Mr and Mrs Lee had something to do with your parents’ deaths?”

“Bingo.”

Jisoo was skeptical. “I’m not defending Mr and Mrs Lee, but how do you know that’s true? It could purely be a coincidence.”

Donghae smiled, looking away briefly to recollect his thoughts. He’d seen this coming and thankfully, he’d prepared a comeback strong enough to convince any person this was a case worth fighting for.

“Initially, I had the same reaction as you, he confessed, opening his bag again to retrieve something else—a tablet. He pressed its home button and began to swipe the screen in search of something. “When you told me about the conversation between Sora and her parents, I decided to look it up on the internet. Jejudo isn’t that big a place, and I’m sure any hit-and-run accidents that happen here would be covered in the news. It didn’t exactly surprise me when the only thing that came up when I searched ‘Jejudo hit-and-run’ was the article about my family. There’d been no other car accidents reported in the last eight years.”

Jisoo frowned. “Do you have anymore proof?”

“Yes, I do.” Donghae nodded. He swiped at the screen of the tablet once more, and from its speaker blared some sort of audio clip. Jisoo recognised the voices instantly:

“Why did you tell Sora to kill me?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sora confessed to it. She said you told her to kill me.”

“Did she?”

“Yes.”

“What else? What else did she tell you?”

“She told me you fled the country so no one would find out you killed my parents,” Donghae added. “She told me Hyukjae knew nothing about this, that all you said was that she had to kill me if I found out. Why?”

“Why? Lee Donghae, we’re millionaires! Owners of a multi-million dollar business. We can’t afford to have blood on our hands. If anyone finds out, everything we worked so hard for will be snatched from right under our noses!”

Jisoo couldn’t bear to look Donghae in the eye despite having nothing to do with the situation at all. For some reason, she even felt guilty.

“The accident may have happened long ago, but there are things that have happened recently that I will be pressing charges for, and they may reopen the case involving my parents.” Donghae said firmly, reaching for his teacup. He sipped from it, emptying the cup before pouring some more.

“Ever since Sora found out that Hyukjae had found me, she’s been out to get me. Hyukjae knew nothing about this then, but she’d made the connection between my existence, and the boy involved in the accident. When she realised how my presence could threaten her parents’ secret to be revealed, she’d planned to get rid of me. She threatened me to leave Hyukjae the first time I came here.”

Donghae set the teapot onto the tray and straightened his back.

“I didn’t leave, of course. How could I? But anyway, she tried to kill me. She hired someone to kill me, but it didn’t work and because of that, Hyukjae is lying in hospital instead of me.”

Jisoo stammered. “I d-don’t…. I don’t under-s-stand…”

Donghae played another audio clip. This time, it had a video to match.

“AND SO WHAT? SO WHAT? I WAS SUPPOSED TO KILL YOU, NOT HYUKJAE. I SHOULD’VE ING DONE IT MYSELF INSTEAD OF HIRING A USELESS HITMAN.

I’m not as stupid as you think. I made sure he drank a bit before setting off to kill you, so that when the police found your dead body and his, they’d round it up as a drunk driving accident. And even if you lived, no one would believe you if you tried to prove otherwise.”

By now, Jisoo was covering , horrified. She didn’t know what to say or do, and her hands had gone jittery at the overload of information. Overwhelmed, she fell back into the couch, speechless.

“It’s a lot to take in, huh?” Donghae laughed hollowly. There was no humour in his laughter. Not one bit.

Jisoo swallowed. “What does this have to do with me?”

“Glad you asked, Jisoo-ssi.” Donghae reached into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. He flipped it open and took out a small white name card.

“My lawyer needs you to give testimony regarding the conversation you overheard between Sora and her parents. You’re the only one who has a personal recount based on the accident that killed my parents, so it’s really important that you testify in court as a witness.”

Donghae handed the name card to her.

“B-but… I have nothing to do with this. I don’t want anything to do with this.” Jisoo trembled. “I could lose my job.”

“There are people who’ve lost their lives, Jisoo-ssi.” Donghae said bitterly, trying his hardest to prevent his voice from cracking. “It’s the least you could do. Your employers are murderers; don’t let them get away with this.”

Jisoo didn’t seem too convinced, Donghae could tell. He quickly thought of a way to coax her into testifying. He figured one white lie wouldn’t hurt.

“We have enough evidence to convict Sora and her parents, but your testimony would be the icing on the cake. And furthermore…” Donghae clenched his jaw, preparing to lie. “If you don’t cooperate, you could possibly be charged as an accomplice for withholding information pertaining the case. Choice is yours, Jisoo-ssi.”

Jisoo gasped. She watched as Donghae kept his things in his bag and stood up, squeezing past Jisoo and the table. He began to put on his shoes.

“If you’re willing to testify, come to the address on the name card on Monday at 2:30 PM sharp.” Donghae stood up and opened the door, pausing to say something over his shoulder. “I’m counting on you, Jisoo-ssi. Hyukjae is counting on you.”

The door slammed shut. Jisoo winced at the deafening sound and massaged her temples with one hand. She stared at the name card pinched between the fingers of her other hand, struggling to form a coherent decision on what to do. Should she tell Sora that Donghae had confronted her? Or should she go along as Donghae had suggested and visit the attorney’s office? She glossed her eyes over the address at the back of the name card again and again until the answer to her dilemma became apparent.

“How’d it go?” Kyuhyun asked, placing a dried plate onto the dish rack. Donghae was sitting hunched over the table behind him, devouring a bag of chips like he hadn’t eaten in years.

“Itf fwent fokay,” Donghae mumbled, stuffing the ribbed snack into his mouth at lightning speed. “I fthink she’ll festify.”

“I’m gonna need you to swallow your damn food and repeat what you said, you dodo bird.”

Donghae swallowed audibly. “I said I think she’ll testify. She seemed pretty iffy at first, but towards the end I laid so many facts on the table that she’d probably cave. Also, I may have threatened her a little.”

Kyuhyun shot him a look. “How?”

“Well,” Donghae started, reaching into the bag. “I told her that if she didn’t cooperate, there’s no guarantee she wouldn’t be charged as an accomplice for, y’know, withholding information.”

Kyuhyun grinned. “Donghae, you genius! I can’t believe you thought of that on your own despite only having one brain cell. I'm so proud of y—”

There was a pause in Kyuhyun's sentence, followed by a brief silence.

“You never heard me call you a genius.”

“Yup, didn’t hear a thing.”

“Speak of it ever again and you won’t live to see another day.”

Donghae nodded. “Yes, seonsaengnim.”

Hours later, the pair left Donghae’s house in Jejudo and made their way towards Jeongbang waterfall upon Donghae’s request. It had been a while since Donghae had visited the waterfall, a place he’d usually go to when he needed a quiet escape from the troubles of life, and right now, all he wanted to do was skip pebbles across the plunge pool. They cycled there; Donghae on his trusty fixie and Kyuhyun on some bicycle that he’d rented at shop nearby. They left their bicycles by the roadside, running towards the waterfall like children.

“Thanks for keeping me company all this while,” Donghae said as he hurled a pebble towards the water. “It’s been really tough. I don't think I could've done any of this on my own.”

Kyuhyun bent down to pick up a pebble, hurling it at the water too. “Don’t thank me. It’s the least I can do as your best friend.”

“Does Irene ever get jealous over how much time you spend with me? I mean, it’s the school holidays after all. Kyuhyun-seonsaengnim should be spending his holidays wrapped up with his girlfriend, not with some forgetful bloke that’s caught up in a messy situation involving his fiancé’s family.”

Kyuhyun glared, rolling his eyes.

“You’re not just some bloke,” he said firmly. “Like I said, you’re my best friend. I would do anything to protect you. Even Irene knows that.”

“Irene is lucky.”

“That, she is.”

Donghae laughed. “But she’ll have to share you with me.”

“Possessive.” Kyuhyun remarked.

“Very.”

Just then, Kyuhyun’s phone began to ring. He took it out of his pocket and groaned upon reading off the screen.

“Damn it, Lee Donghae. You jinxed it! It’s the school holidays and I shouldn’t be answering calls from work, ugh.”

Donghae shrugged. “Then don’t!”

“Ugh, I have to.” Kyuhyun started to distance himself, walking towards the trees. “Gimme a sec.”

Watching as his best friend walked away with his phone to his ear—duty calls, Donghae thought—he grinned. Donghae hadn’t felt this calm in a while. Following the turmoil that the recent events had given him, Donghae just couldn’t catch a break, not when things kept happening one after the other. He skipped a pebble and stepped back, watching as it bounced thrice on the surface of the water before sinking. He turned to look at their bicycles, gasping. , he cussed mentally. I forgot to lock our bikes.

Donghae ran towards the bicycles unsteadily as the gravel shifted beneath his feet. He reached into the basket at the front of Kyuhyun’s bicycle, retrieving two chain locks. He bent down next to Kyuhyun’s bicycle and looped one of the locks around its front tire and down tube, pushing one end of the lock into the other till it clicked in place. Then he moved towards his fixie to do the same.

As Donghae looped the chain lock around his fixie, he heard gravelly footsteps inching towards him from behind. He finished clasping the lock in place and rose slowly, grimacing a little from the slight pain in his recovering ankle. Maybe he should’ve left the cast on for a bit longer.

The footsteps stopped.

“Sorry, Kyu. I realised I forgot to—”

Out of nowhere, a cold, hard metal object —probably a baseball bat—struck the back of his head, knocking him unconscious. His vision blurred, withering away and slowly, the world faded to black.

“Lee Hyukjae!” Kyuhyun cried two days later, hurrying towards Hyukjae’s bedside. “Lee Hyukjae, wake up!”

Hyukjae groaned, irritated that his deep slumber had been interrupted by the noisy brunet barely five minutes past nine in the morning. He shifted uncomfortably, attempting to crack his aching bones albeit unsuccessfully. At this point, Kyuhyun had grabbed onto the side rail of his bed and begun to shake it anxiously.

“Can’t this wait until later?” He whined, his voice laced with sleep. “Jesus Christ, you’re gonna wake the other patients up.”

Kyuhyun ignored him. “Hyukjae, Donghae’s gone missing.”

“What?”

“I said, Donghae’s gone—”

“Yeah, I heard you the first time!” Hyukjae snapped, frantic. “What the do you mean he’s gone missing? How did that happen?!”

Kyuhyun bit his nails nervously. “I don’t know! We were at the waterfall yesterday, and I left him alone briefly to pick up a call. When I returned, he was gone. He hasn't come home in two days, or picked up any of my calls. I tried calling him this morning but his phone is probably dead. I don’t know what to do.”

Hyukjae writhed about, craning his head in search of the side rails to grab onto. “’s sake, Kyu, help me up!” He gritted his teeth and pulled himself up, trying his best to neglect every sore muscle that ached at the tension. Kyuhyun hooked his arms underneath Hyukjae’s pits and lifted him carefully, pushing him back against the bedrest to sit upright. Kyuhyun noticed how the colour had drained from his face, but opted not to say a word about it.

“I gave you one job, Kyu, one job! To take care of him while I recover; while I pretend to have forgotten him.” Hyukjae’s voice was full of a mixture of anger, disappointment and disdain. “How the did you lose a full-grown man?! Why did you let him out of your sight?!”

Kyuhyun’s eyes grow twice as large. “You’re one to ing talk, Mr Seven-Years-Too-Late.”

“ you, Kyu,” Hyukjae hissed, glowering daggers through Kyuhyun’s soul. “The circumstances are different so don’t you dare try to guilt me like that. Help me the out of bed.”

“What?”

“I said HELP ME OUT OF BED. I need to find him.”

Kyuhyun shook his head.

“No,” he refused. “You’re still recovering, Hyukjae. I’ll—I’ll find him, I promise.”

“You lost him.”

“I know but you can’t get out of bed! You have a ing spinal injury, you dumb. The nurses won’t let you!”

Kyuhyun had never seen Hyukjae so pissed off. He was fuming, his face tainted red and his eyes huge and dark, and Kyuhyun was certain one slip of the tongue would be enough for him to climb right out of bed and stab him there and then.

“I’ll pay the nurses to shut the up. Just—please, for once—quit arguing with me and help me out of bed!” Hyukjae’s voice had started off firm and fearsome, gradually melting into soft, faltering cries of desperation. “I need to find my fiancé, Kyu, please! I can’t lose him again!”

Neither of them said it, but they both felt like they knew who was behind Donghae’s disappearance and frankly, it scared them both less. If Sora had been capable of trying to run him over with a car before, there was no telling what kind of sick she could be up to this time.

That alone convinced Kyuhyun to grab a wheelchair from the far-end of the room and help Hyukjae onto it, no hesitation. As he wheeled Hyukjae out of the room, he tried to come up with an excuse to give the nurses. I’m just bringing him out for some fresh air, he’d planned to say, unsure if it’d be a valid enough reason for the nurses to give him the green light. Surprisingly enough, a nurse waved them off nonchalantly. Be back by noon, she’d said and Kyuhyun had nodded knowing fully well that they wouldn’t.

When his senses sprung back to life almost two days later, Donghae realised two things: First of all, his arms were tugged together above his head, bounded at the wrists by some sort of rope. Secondly, the world was pitch black despite the fact that it was midday—a deduction he was able to make based on the fact that he could feel beads of sweat trickling down his forehead and back, and the light that managed to penetrate through whatever blocked his vision. For some reason, he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and it took him a while to register that he’d been blindfolded. He was dazed, and his mind was hazy; none of the thoughts in his head seemed connected or grounded; and very much like his thoughts, it suddenly dawned upon him that he too, quite literally, was not grounded. He swung his legs and puled; he was suspended in the air.

“Ma’am, he’s awake.” A low, raspy voice growled from what sounded like mere metres away. Donghae tried to swing his body and reach for something, anything, to latch his legs onto. He hated darkness and he had a fear of heights, and unfortunately his current predicament was a combination of the two.

Having had his sense of sight temporarily robbed from him, Donghae’s hearing seemed to have heightened, and he could hear the clicking of heels from outside the confined space he was in moving at a slow, steady pace. He felt his heart palpitating like a racehorse and immediately noticed how his eyes had gone hot and steamy. The worst of speculations crawled out of the woodworks in his mind, and he was certain that at this very moment, he wasn’t ready to die. He didn’t want to die.

“Let me go, Sora! Please!” he begged, shaking his body in an attempt to wriggle free.

A cold, emotionless voice laughed in return (that doesn’t sound like Sora, Donghae noted), echoing through the vicinity, and Donghae decided that he was somewhere spacious, but confined. Some sort of warehouse, maybe, he thought. He opened his mouth to say something but was rudely interrupted by a blow to his stomach, probably from the same baseball bat that had knocked him out. He yelped out in pain, his reflexes causing him to almost draw his knees to his chest. His body rocked back and forth, the sound of the rope suspending him from the ground squeaking at the tension scaring him to death. He imagined the rope snapping, and him falling to his death. The tears in his eyes began to stream down his face.

“A second warning wasn’t enough, was it?” The vaguely familiar voice asked rhetorically, a hint of sarcasm stringed into her words. “Instead, Sora tells me you’ve hired a lawyer to get us into trouble. I hardly think that was a good move, Lee Donghae.”

Si-eomoni, Donghae finally recalled after hearing the voice a second time.

“Hit him again.”

Donghae could hear fingers wrapping around metal and the shift of feet, before—”please don’t”—another swing of the bat lands on his torso again, this time a little higher, causing Donghae to flinch harder, screaming out in pain. He could’ve sworn he'd heard a crack in his ribs, but he tried his best to withstand the blow. His breathing intensified, and he could taste blood in his mouth. His mind was beginning to faze out.

“I don’t let people like you go easily,” the voice, Deokboon’s, said firmly, her voice laced with menace. “Anyone who threatens the Lee family will die, eventually.”

Donghae was exhausted, but he still managed to dish out a snarky reply.

“I’m your nephew, you sick woman! I am part of the Lee family!”

Deokboon chortled, but as soon as she sobered up, her voice was cold and unforgiving. “Barely. You’re an outsider, just like your parents were, so don’t call yourself a part of us.”

Donghae could hear the click of a lighter, followed by the sound of someone taking a drag. The smell of tobacco rose and made him choke, coughing violently. Deokboon spoke again.

“Consider me your saviour, Lee Donghae. My husband and daughter didn’t want to let you live, but I’m giving you a chance to drop charges and walk away free. The choice is yours,” she took another puff of her cigarette. “Or maybe not.”

Donghae felt like he was on fire. He felt the hot ash at the end of a burning cigarette eat into his torso once, twice, more than he could handle, leaving permanent marks in his skin. Screaming, he kicked about, his mind threatening to black out at the excruciating pain. His entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat, and like that wasn’t bad enough, Deokboon removed the cigarette and instructed her henchman to rap him with the bat once again. This time, the blows came from behind, sending shockwaves down his spine as the bat hit him, each swing much harder than the one before it. Blood traveled its way up Donghae’s throat, almost choking him. He coughed it out—there was an awful lot of it—and groaned in pain.

“Enjoying it?” Deokboon mocked, pacing to and fro in front of him. “I’m giving you one last chance, y’know. One last chance to undo the damage you and your wretched family have caused. A chance to drop the charges, so you can live, or join your family in hell if you don’t.”

Donghae found enough strength in himself to spit blood in the direction of her voice.

“Over my dead ing body.”

He heard her curse with disgust. Deokboon reached up and grabbed the tussles of Donghae’s hair, yanking his head towards her.

“Alright, over your dead body then. Y'know, I’m so glad we got rid of your parents earlier than we had planned to,” she hissed in Donghae’s ear through gritted teeth. “The accident wasn’t intentional, but if not for that, we wouldn’t have inherited your grandfather’s businesses. Unlike your wretched father, my husband is a genius. Manipulating the will was a good idea, seeing that we’re filthy rich, and you, a poor lowly scum.”

Donghae tried to spit again, but he was worn out. His arms ached so badly, and he could feel the skin at his wrists tearing from rope burn.

Deokboon laughed. “I suppose you do take after your father.” Donghae kicked, screaming in anger, using up the final amounts of energy that he could find in him. A final swing to the back of his head made his whole body jerk and go limp, his eyes rolling towards the ceiling.

His consciousness escaped him like a burning candle, and the last thing he could hear was the sound of wheels rolling towards him.

Kyuhyun sawed through the rope with some sort of Swiss Army knife that he carried around in his pocket at all times. The rope snapped, and a limp, almost lifeless Donghae fell to the ground with a hard thud, cushioned slightly by the rolled carpets Kyuhyun had found at the deep end of the warehouse. Kyuhyun fell to his knees, flustered, and began to saw through the rope that bound Donghae’s wrists together. Once he’d freed Donghae, he rubbed his hand over Donghae’s forehead, combing through his brown hair, trembling.

“Yah, Lee D-donghae,” Kyuhyun stammered, choking up. “This isn’t funny, Donghae, wake up.”

Donghae didn’t respond. His body was as rigid as a corpse, even under his best friend’s touch. Kyuhyun looked at his body; first at the blisters that had formed all over his torso, and then at the blood that trickled from his mouth and head. There were bruises all over his body, and Kyuhyun screamed internally, cursing at whoever that did this to his best friend.

Behind him, Hyukjae began to cry.

“Hae,” he whimpered, audibly shifting in his wheelchair. “Hae, it’s me. Your fiancé, Lee Hyukjae. The one who loves you, so, so much. Hae. Wake up, Hae.”

Kyuhyun felt around for Donghae’s pulse, grateful for the faint beat. The gratefulness lasted but a split second though, as Kyuhyun worried his bottom lip, fearing that their time was running out. He reached for his phone and began to unlock it so that he could call the police, but a swift hand knocked his phone out of his grasp.

“Don’t,” Donghae coughed out, saliva and blood dribbling out his dry, parted lips.

Kyuhyun cupped Donghae’s face and rubbed his cheeks. “, Lee Donghae, you scared the crap out of me!”

“I’m sorry.” Donghae said softly, giving him a faint smile. “I always make people worry.”

Hyukjae was still sobbing, trying his hardest to muffle his cries with his hands over his mouth. Donghae craned his neck to look at Hyukjae, grinning.

“Hyuk,” he called out hoarsely, turning his head slightly to cough out more blood. Hyukjae’s breathing hitched upon hearing his name. He wanted so, so badly to be able to get off his wheelchair and fall to the ground, taking Donghae into his arms, but his mobility was limited. All he could afford to do was stare back at his fiancé in anguish.

“Hyuk,” Donghae croaked again, the grin never leaving his face. Kyuhyun and Hyukjae stared at Donghae as he slowly leaned his head back, his eyes rolling into his head.

“...you remember me.”

Donghae’s world faded to black again.