When Aeri had first joined the Oh clan, she was a frightened child that didn’t know how to swim, and couldn’t find anyone to hold onto while she figured out how to do it on her own. As a trainee, she had been assigned to commander Jongdae, who’d always acted harsh towards her and never let her slack off for even a moment, just because she was female. For a while, she’d thought it was just her he hated, not women in general.
 

At first, she’d wondered why he would make her run more laps and lift more weights, often snorting upon walking by her sweaty, messy form as she tried to do what the sadistic commander wanted from her. Sometimes he’d bark out an insult at her, like “You’re weaker than my grandmother, Jong” or “Jong, a snail would do this quicker than you”. She didn’t let any of it get to her; she’d breathe in, breathe out, and tell herself just one more day and the training will be complete. And then she'd do it again tomorrow.

 

Ironically enough, she wasn’t Jongdae’s only target. For a while, she didn’t get the whole nickname thing - why all the commanders had two names and why they were expected the novices to have them too. Then one day, she muttered to herself, No wonder Chen is called Jongdae - he’s like two stuck-up commanders in one person, and heard a soft laughter next to herself.

 

Had she not turned around that day, she probably would’ve ended up hanging out with Soo anyway, because they were so much alike that she sometimes wondered if he was her lost brother. Still, she liked to think that the story of how they met was something very special and inspiring, and that it was destiny for them to start hanging out that particular day. Well, the story could be considered inspiring if you took out the part where Soo almost broke an arm trying to do a simple push-up and Aeri thinking Jongdae was going to kill them for slacking off.

 

For some reason, she kept thinking about the moment she first met Kyungsoo as sat on a bed in what looked like the ambulance room. This room had nothing in common with the torture room - it was full of light. One whole side of the wall opposite to the bed was windowed, with bright red curtains framing the large portal. Outside was a sunny day, which was enough to make her wonder how much time had truly passed since the abduction. But that was not what took her breath away.

 

From the moment the first round of torture ended, she kept suspecting that it was some kind of trick, and that they would actually be taking her to another torture room where they would pump up their game. But when she first saw the ambulance room whilst still being cradled in Baekbeom’s arms, she couldn’t help but gasp in astonishment.

 

The landscape was… beautiful didn’t even begin to cover what it did to her heart. The whole world was colored in red. It was August, not October, but the leaves of the trees in the woods in front of her were bright red as if it was autumn. She felt as if she was watching an eternal sunset, which in turn made her feel warm and giddy. That sight matched the smell radiating off the body of the man who’d set her down onto the bed a minute ago and who was now rummaging through the closet and taking various first-aid bandages and bottles to treat her wounds. It matched the way he looked - Baekbeom had called this place his home, and she didn’t doubt for a second he knew those woods like the back of his hands.

 

She sat on the bed in the most protective position she could bring her body to make, hugging her knees with her arms and ignoring the fact that everything hurt. All she could do was close her eyes and listen to the sound of the birds’ chirping through the opened windows as the sun’s rays warmed her skin. She felt as if she was somewhere else, in some other life that didn’t include the mafia. For a second, she was able to pretend Kris had never touched her skin, had never whispered into her ear what he’d do to her the next time, had never dipped his hands below the hem of her shirt…

 

Baekbeom’s soft voice permeated her thoughts. “Hey.”

 

She blinked, and noticed that there was a plate with rice and vegetables in Baekbeom’s hands in front of her. His facial expression was filled with understanding, as if he somehow knew where her mind had been in the past few moments. She again wondered whether her face had  betrayed her feelings. “You hadn’t eaten in a while, so I brought you this. I would’ve brought something more appealing, but I wasn’t sure if it would make you throw up. So let’s try this for now.”

 

She also noted how she was now wrapped up in a blanket. Had she actually dozed off on the bed while he went to get the food? She scowled, suddenly angry at herself. She was supposed to be a damn professional! How would she ever escape this place if she wasn’t even able to keep herself awake?

 

Yet again, Baekbeom seemed to know what she was thinking. “You’ve been through a lot,” he said softly as he took her hands in his and nudged her to sit. Her hands began tingling and she resisted the urge to flinch and break away from the uncomfortable contact.

 

A second later, his hands let go of her and he grabbed the plate with food from the desk behind him, putting it into her lap. “It’s only normal that you’re tired. I promise I’ll leave as soon as you’ve eaten and I’ve treated your wounds. Then you can try and get some rest.”

 

She couldn’t help herself - she scoffed. “Yeah, and I’ll dream of unicorns and rainbows.” Her voice sounded much more sarcastic and angry than she’d wanted it to, but she suspected that all the dams and shields she’d had were broken and sliced apart by Kris - now she was all raw bone and meat, without much pretense and hospitality.

 

Baekbeom turned around to grab gauze and a bottle of ethanol from the desk, but she saw the scowl on his face lingering for a second. When he turned around again, it was already gone, replaced by a frown. “I… My brother, he told me about what happened back there. I know it won’t mean anything to you, but he asked Lu to let him handle it as soon as he found out you’ve been brought here. We don’t… We don’t do that.” He pointed at the bloody marks crisscrossing her left arm.

 

Aeri was holding her breath as he talked. The junior assassin of the Oh clan inside of her told her that these were all lies, he is lying to you, he is trying to brainwash you and win over your trust. And it did make sense, but she once again remembered how that voice - Baekhyun’s voice - had chased Kris away and barked out how he wasn’t in charge anymore, how what he was doing to her was sick. And now his brother was treating her wounds and being nice to her. Yes, it was all probably an act, but she’d take this kind of torture over Kris doing what he wanted to her any day.

 

She looked up at Baekbeom while he cleaned her wounds, forcing herself not to flinch while hissing pain spread all over her arms and face. He kept changing gauze after gauze, red from dried and fresh blood he was cleaning off her skin. His hair kept falling into his face, and she resisted the urge to move it out of his eyes. She watched intently as his eyes darkened and another, deeper scowl spread on his face while his hands tried to make the best of what Kris had done to her. “How could they let him do this to you?” he said in such a low voice that she barely heard him.

“Thank you,” she said when he moved away from her for a second. He stayed still, so she raised an eyebrow at him. “Done already?”

 

“Uhm…” he said, once again scratching his neck. Heat flared on his cheeks. “I… You’ll need to take the shirt off. So I can clean the wounds there.”

 

“No,” she said almost involuntarily as he attempted to clean the wounds on her right hand. It was instinctual, of course, because she did not take her shirt off in front of just anyone. But the truth was, she was a fully trained mafia gang assassin, and of course she’d come across various types of situations through her trainee days. Of course she’d had injuries in areas on her stomach, lower back and thighs. And of course she’d trusted people like Junmyeon, Kyungsoo or even Jongdae to treat those injuries on-site without making a fuss about it.

 

It wasn’t about that, about showing skin, about having someone see her scars or be able to gaze at her body. It was about Kris and how just thinking about having someone touch anything beneath the hem of her shirt made her want to throw up.

 

Baek’s eyes were dark. Once again, she remembered her first impression of him, how he looked like an old soul put into a young man’s body. The emotion that she saw swirling inside of his irises was something that only dark experiences, unforgettable memories and a sense of revenge could awaken in someone. It was something she’d spent years studying, having the opportunity to see it awaken in her commander’s eyes every time Kim Junmyeon and Kim Seo Young passed by him, holding hands and laughing.

 

She just sat there, barely realizing that both of her hands were clutching the hem of her shirt tightly, ready to fight him, ready to fight Kris, to keep her honor intact or die trying. She would rather die than let it happen to her, she kept chanting in her mind, while he stood there like a statue in front of her, his head tilted downward and gazing at her body, at her hands, at her expression, at whatever emotion was showing in her eyes, her breath hitched, her muscles straining although her arms were burning from having ethanol applied to the wounds.

 

Then in a flash, all of it was gone. The bright boy was back in the blink of an eye, smiling at her fondly as he nodded at her. “Okay,” he said softly, turning around once again to get more gauze to wrap around her right arm. “I’ll finish treating your arms and legs, and bring you some ice to apply on your face. I suspect there’ll be a bruise on your left cheek tomorrow.” His eyebrows were pushed tight together as he turned back, working on her right arm while her body slowly relaxed. “I’ll leave you the supplies so that you can treat the rest yourself. Judging by the bloody stain on your shirt, there’s a somewhat deep wound on your stomach. If it’s too deep, you’ll need stitches.” He gulped. “I won’t… I won’t touch you. You can tell me and I’ll call for someone else. I think Tao knows how to stitch a wound together. Just don’t hide any injuries; if they get infected or the bleeding doesn’t stop, you’ll need to go to a hospital and you know that…”

 

He trailed off, but she knew what the end of that sentence was, anyway. Of course. Nobody would ever let her go to a hospital. It was obvious that she’d been put through torture, and just identifying her would bring the cops, because there was an arrest warrant for her from a couple of years ago, when she’d gotten sloppy on a trainee mission. Even worse, identifying her would alert her clan and they’d come to claim her, effectively ending her imprisonment, so of course bringing her to a hospital was out of the question. If she wanted to heal, she needed to get taken care of quickly, before the risks increased.

 

Although it was completely irrational, she felt the urge to reassure him it wasn’t him that was bothering her, but the idea of having someone touch her body in any way so soon after having a sadist imply he was going to strip her . She gulped, swallowing down the first instinctual response that came to mind. “Thank you. I’ll reach out if I need anything.” She kept her voice calm, even as she felt anything but at the moment. Kris’ words started repeating in her mind again, and she couldn’t bring herself to be hostile towards this man, even as she should’ve been able to bring herself to tell him to buzz off and stop pretending he was her friend.

 

She let him work in silence as she chewed the meal, feeling hungry but not wanting to rush herself. After all, she’d been hanging upside down for far too long for her sense of balance to stay intact; the last thing she needed now was to start throwing up and slow down her recovery.

 

When her arms and legs were disinfected, bandaged and wrapped in gauzes, and the empty plate of food was in his hands, Baekbeom nodded at her slightly and looked at her again. His eyes looked like molten honey, something vibrant and alive constantly shifting inside of his irises. He took a deep breath, and she suddenly wondered if he was actually nervous or uncomfortable with the whole ordeal. “Okay, so… I guess you should rest now.” He scratched the back of his head, looking over at the portal and then glancing back at her. “Uhm, you treat the rest of your wounds and try to get some sleep. I’ll be back in a couple of hours to check on you.”

 

She nodded at him and shifted on the bed, moving as if to lie down and get some rest. She caught him nodding at himself from the corner of her vision and then he silently made his retreat, walking awkwardly through the room and closing the door behind him. She heard the sound of a lock and snorted to herself immediately. So much for the friendly act.

 

She hadn’t expected anything else than imprisonment, of course, but Jong Aeri was not someone who could be scared off by something as mundane as a lock. Her lock-picking skills were acquired thanks to the help of another dear friend, Kim Jongin, who was a couple of years older than her and seemingly set to make her moral codex as shady as possible. It didn’t work most of the time, but she had smoked her first cigarette and sneaked out of the HQ compound after curfew due to his persuasion. Jongin, if you can hear me, thank you so much, she whispered in her mind. Bad influences can be useful too.

 

Aeri had expected to be cuffed, but they’d probably figured her current state of health wasn’t even good enough to walk, making the cuffing process pointless and therefore unnecessary. She feared their judgment was probably right, and she’d get up as soon as possible to try and assess the state her body was in. First, she needed to disinfect and wrap up the rib wound from the knife, though. It was like hot charcoal, seemingly burning through her skin and she needed to see how bad it was for herself. Baekbeom had been right about everything, and she hated to admit to herself that she would’ve liked for him to have treated the wound, but things were the way they were. So she sighed and got to work.

 

She slowly lay down on the bed, her muscles hurting from the unnatural position she’d previously been in for too long. She stretched, feeling her small wounds come to life and burn for a second, but it wasn’t anything unbearable. She felt like a mummy, all wrapped up in gauzes and clumsy with her movements.

 

She didn’t lift her shirt and start immediately inspecting the wound. Instead, she sighed again, attempting to plan her next moves. If she was well enough, she would scan the building during the night, figuring out where the guards were, whether there were security cameras and perhaps even where Jongdae was. Having him by her side would make everything so much easier for her. But of course, she couldn’t count on him or his help. Perhaps they hadn’t caught him at all. Perhaps he wasn’t even conscious or couldn’t walk. And perhaps…

 

She sighed for the third time, suddenly very tired. She knew she didn’t have time - even tomorrow could be too late. She also knew that in her current state she wouldn’t be able to run, that she would most certainly get caught and that it would only make her position worse, a lot worse than before. So she would have to bide her time, giving herself at least two days before attempting an escape. Perhaps she’d even figure out how to fry the security system and block the guards during that time.

 

Closing her eyes just for a second as she leaned on her healthy side, she felt the burning of red behind her eyes. The maple trees were beautiful, and she wanted to get out and get lost in the woods, taking her time exploring and admiring the gift of nature. And the smell, it reminded her of…

 

Darker brown eyes, also shimmering with light, with a familiar spark that she saw in his brother’s eyes. A deceiver, a trickster, dark as the night and swift as the blade Junmyeon had gifted her. She remembered the way he’d growled at Kris, the same way as when he’d surprised her in Kris’ mansion, demanding to know who she was. If she’d told him, would he have let her go? Would anything have changed?

 

When she opened her eyes again, the sun’s rays were coming lower through the leaves, the light creating strange shadows on the walls. She inhaled sharply, feeling a hissing pain at her injured side. She rolled up her shirt to see a jabbed hole dark at its center and crimson red around the sides. A bit of blood was still smeared around it, probably from the knife exiting her skin. Kris had stabbed her only with the very tip of the knife, so it wasn’t very deep, but the dark color looked unsettling. Plus, it hurt. Aeri knew she’d developed a high tolerance of pain, so she knew this wasn’t something to be just dismissed like that. She moaned in pain as she touched the tender place just below her ribcage, not wanting to wonder why this seemed to be Kris’ favorite spot.

 

A growl stopped her in her tracks. For a moment, she froze, her eyes wide as she tried to register that there was someone in the room next to her, smelling of summer and earth and maple. The next moment, she was hastily pushing her shirt down, intent on brushing the wound off as if it was nothing. She would keep her honor, she would not let them touch her-

 

Hands firmly wrapped around her wrists, and she recognized them just from the familiar ache. She knew well who they belonged to, and as they stopped her from slipping her shirt down, she didn’t need to gaze down to see the tattoo peeking from his shirt sleeve. She should’ve put up an effort to shake him off, but her useless mind kept chanting how he was so close and he had made Kris go away and he smelled like maple, he smelled like the outside, he smelled like her outdoor missions, he was one of her kind.

 

“When the hell were you going to call for someone to put stitches on that?” The angry voice barked at her, and she couldn’t help but wince from the close proximity of Baekhyun. It ignited something in her, made her wrists tingle where he was holding them pinned to her sides and her breath hitch as if she was running from something. “Oh wait, let me take a guess - you weren’t.”

 

His voice was so full of venom that she couldn’t help but look up, if only to see how his sculpture-like face looked like contorted in rage. But when she looked up, it wasn’t rage that she found; it was an unreadable expression somewhere between annoyance and worry. She quickly ruled out the other feeling because yeah, sure, this guy was sooooo worried about her.

 

“It’s not that deep,” she found herself saying blandly whilst still looking at him. She knew her excuse was lame at best, but she didn’t want to explain how she couldn’t handle having someone touch her body. His fierce, murky eyes stared straight back at her, as if offering a challenge to see who would break first. “It doesn’t need stitches. I’ll just disinfect it, put some ointment onto it and wrap it up. I don’t need help.”

 

She expected him to bark out orders at her, to say he didn’t care what she wanted and to start stitching the wound himself, but he didn’t. After a long moment during which her skin grew warmer and her embarrassment stronger, he crossed his arms on his chest and nodded at her. She struggled to focus on his voice instead of on the flexing muscles on his arms. “Alright.”

 

After that, he seemingly decided to play a statue. She rushed to pull her shirt down, to prevent him from seeing any more of her body, to change her awkward position. She sat up and frowned at him. “Are you going to stand there and… guard me or something?”

 

He snorted, seemingly in annoyance, but she didn’t miss the slight curve of one corner of his mouth upwards. “I’m not here to babysit you. We have a lot to talk about, so hurry up with patching the wound up, since you don’t need any help. Obviously.”

 

Her frown grew larger. He’s going to watch me while I treat my wound? What kind of a freak is this guy? Even so, she couldn’t help but feel mortified when thinking she was going to have to pull her shirt up again in his presence. “Could you like… turn around or something? Give a girl her privacy?”

 

Baekhyun rolled his eyes and pulled his hand through his perfectly styled hair. The scent of maples once again permeated the air. “Hurry up,” he said and slowly made his way towards the portal of windows. He had the decency to turn his back towards her, and for a long moment of suspension, she kept staring at his back. At his white button-up shirt with a black line through the center, where the buttons are located, and his tight leather pants. At the hands which were behind his back, the obvious knife hidden in his calf, the outline of a gun at the waistband of the pants, the tight stance of a fully trained mafia clan assassin. How had she not noticed any of these things that night in Kris’ mansion?

 

Her mind wandering, she let some of her thoughts out. “Why didn’t you try to kill me at Kris’ mansion?” She simultaneously waited for him to answer and lifted her shirt, beginning to work on the wound. First, clean it with ethanol-soaked gauze. The blood was still flowing, so the gauze quickly turned red. She winced, but didn’t make a sound as she worked.

 

“I wasn’t sure who you were,” he muttered after a long moment. She grabbed the paste of ointment from the table and started to apply it onto the now clean wound. “You could’ve been an assassin who’d already set up a trap. I needed to see whether I should question you or get rid of you.”

 

He spoke in a matter-of-fact voice and she nodded, because it was reasonable. She now understood why they were so worried about people attempting to kill Kris - perhaps she’d join the Kris Haters Club when she got out of this whole mess. If she ever got out of it. Ointment applied, she now needed to wrap the gauze around her torso. Due to the fact that her arms began to hurt badly when she attempted to reach around her back, that proved to be harder than she expected. The gauze fell out of her hands and onto the floor. She bit her lip, wincing at the pain as she leaned down to pick it up. “Why did Luhan put you in charge of my interrogation instead of Kris?”

 

As she sat back up, she found herself looking straight at Baekhyun’s annoyed expression again. His patience seemed to have run out. He took the gauze from her hands and began wrapping it around her swiftly. She felt her cheeks flaring up from his proximity and her indecency. “Because nobody likes his methods of interrogation. Nobody approves of torture. If it was necessary, yes, but not as a way of welcome to our clan headquarters. He’d slice your face up just to smile contentedly at seeing you walk around with the scar of the Chinese version of his name on your cheeks.” He made a disgusted sound as he secured the gauze at her back and looked over her. When he was satisfied, he rolled her shirt down himself, his hands lingering on her hips just for a moment.

 

She took a deep breath after a moment. “What do you want from me, Baekhyun?” He looked back at her face after hearing his name roll from her lips. “I’m not a commander, that much is obvious. I can’t give you the information you want, I don’t have that kind of intel. All of the things Kris had asked me aren’t familiar to me. You can interrogate me all you want, but I have no idea whether Sehun’s wife is pregnant or where our interrogator is. I’m a freaking trainee that went on a field trip with my assigned commander yesterday. I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time.”

 

Aeri hoped he wouldn’t notice the lies, and that he would buy them. She kept her body perfectly still and her voice even, as if she was talking about the weather. As Baekhyun looked at her, she couldn’t help but notice how strikingly similar he and his brother looked. The only thing different about them was the energy radiating off them - whereas flowers and rainbows swirled around Baekbeom’s light form and patient face, Baekhyun was all darkness, the weight of past sins and annoyance. She knew she was playing with fire, and that deceiving the older brother wouldn’t be easy at all, but she had to try.

 

Her hopes shattered after a moment, when he raised his eyebrows at her. “A trainee?” He asked incredulously. “If you’re a trainee, then my brother is a freaking clan leader.” He crossed the distance between them within a second and put a hand under her chin. She flinched, expecting a slap to the face, and probably imagined the glint she saw in his eyes. His face expression darkened. “I can tolerate a lot of stuff, but if you attempt to bull me again, I’ll lock you up in that storage room and give Kris the key. What do you think I am, a moron?”

 

Biting her lip, Aeri sighed for the millionth time that day and plopped down onto the bed. It proved to be a bad decision, as it made a piercing pain shoot through her abdomen, making her gasp. “Okay,” she said breathlessly. “I have been initiated, but that was only a couple months ago.” That was a half-truth; she had actually been initiated a year ago but it wouldn’t hurt to make herself seem as clueless and inexperienced as possible. “Nevertheless, I’m not someone who knows anything about our clan leadership.”

 

Baekhyun snorted and she imagined his face hunching in disgust. She wasn’t faking her exhaustion and she couldn’t help but close her eyes even as a voice in her head told her she was being rude at the very least for not bothering to look at the man who was trying to have a serious conversation with her. “Listen, this is not going to go down the way you want it to. I’m not Baekbeom - you can’t flatter me into submission with a smile and a compliment. We both know you’re not going to run away with a stab wound in your stomach and a messed-up sense of balance. And Kris will return if I don’t give them answers - in two days or a week, I don’t know. But they will get tired of your silence, that much is absolutely certain. So you gotta give me something I can show them and keep them satisfied.”

 

Damn it, this tactic of theirs was actually working. With Kris, it was easy - she was a prisoner, and Kris had the power to do whatever he wanted to her, no matter how horrible or wrong. She could channel all her rage and hatred at him and stay sane throughout the process because she knew she was on the right side. She wouldn’t give a torturer anything, too busy thinking of her clan and how she needed to protect them to actually feel the pain or be coaxed by it.

 

But the things this man was telling her were actually making sense. If it was her clan and she was in his position, she probably would’ve done the same - laid the cards out on the table and asked him to cooperate without much drama or anyone getting hurt unnecessarily. She’d keep her hands clean, her clan would get what they wanted and the prisoner would avoid getting traumatized and severely injured, so it would be a win-win situation for everyone.

 

Before she was able to nod, Baekhyun sighed again. “Look, if you feel more comfortable talking to my brother, you can talk to him.” His tone then turned from nice to spitting out harsh words. “But don’t you dare try to pull off anything that might jeopardize him. You might not be Kim Seo Young, but they wouldn’t take a regular fresh graduate on a mission of the utmost importance. I saw how you handled yourself back at the mansion - you’re anything but a regular trainee. So lay low, give me bits of truth every once in a while and hope everyone forgets about you if you want to live.”

 

Her mind was already drifting to sleep, but his words still registered as odd. A mission of the utmost importance? Jongdae and Junmyeon hadn’t introduced it like that at all. If anything, it was a safeguard mission and taking care of probably-false rumors about some murderer on a rampage at the Oh property. Of course it had all sounded odd and perhaps a little fake, but they would’ve told her if it was an important mission… Wouldn’t they?

 

“I was on a suspension,” she said groggily. “We were supposed to check the Oh property for intruders due to some strange rumors. And that’s the truth.” She wasn’t sure if she was actually saying the words or just thinking them, because she was already being pulled into a dream, losing contact with reality. She didn’t know if Baekhyun kept speaking or if she should’ve listened to him - right now she needed to rest.

 

“Okay, mysterious girl,” Baekhyun’s voice permeated her dreams, and she wondered if he would follow her there. “Now rest.” She felt something warm wrap around her, but she was too sleepy to open her eyes and check what it was.

 

Then he was gone, and Aeri let go of the now and here, dreaming of a boy whose eyes were light brown in the sun and almost black in the darkness.

 

Aeri felt herself drifting at the edge of consciousness, trying to remember what she had been dreaming about, but it was too late - the dream was already gone. With her eyes still closed, she struggled to get an echo of a melody out of her head.

 

After a second, she realized that it wasn’t an echo, but that someone was actually playing an instrument somewhere close by. She must’ve still been dreaming, because it didn’t make any sense - she remembered where she was, and it definitely wasn’t a musical academy.

 

It was a piano, she recognized after a moment, and the player seemed to be Beethoven himself; whoever was playing the instrument obviously wasn’t an amateur, the notes flowing effortlessly and in perfect harmony. It was not a musical piece she recognized, but then again, it wasn’t like Aeri was an expert on classical music. Her only exposure to it was once a year, on Kyungsoo’s birthday, when they dressed up and danced around the training room in the middle of the night. He’d taught her how to dance and although she wasn’t someone who’d ever go to a ball or even to the theater, she’d always had so much fun with him, sneaking around and breaking rules just because they could, dreaming of a different life where things as mundane as dancing and wearing a dress were allowed.

 

She slowly blinked, and first realized that it was the middle of the night. When she tried to move, a pain in her back flared up, along with multiple burning sensations all over her body, the strongest one at her abdomen where the stab wound was. She would’ve stood up and walked over to the window, but she felt even more tired than before she’d fallen asleep, so she doubted she could even make the trip.

 

So she settled down, hugging the blanket that was around her and deciding to drift off to sleep while the melody led her to a happier place where there were no mafia clans, secrets or lies. It probably wasn’t a real piano, though, since it was virtually impossible to have a piano at a mafia clan headquarters, but she allowed herself to dream that it was. She could make out the player, with a ruffled brown hair that was as soft as feathers and warm brown eyes that smiled even when he was trying to be serious-

 

Then she heard the lock in the door click.

 

There were several rational possibilities as to why someone would be coming into the room of a prisoner in the middle of the night. They could be just checking on her to see how her wounds were healing. Maybe it was just Baekbeom worrying about her and being unable to sleep without checking on her. Maybe they wanted to see for themselves that she was there and not digging an escape tunnel.

 

But something in her gut screamed at her to run. She suddenly wished she had some kind of weapon on her - anything would be better than waiting to be killed - but there was nothing on the bed or the table. The room was completely empty save for the table, chair and the bed. Aeri panicked, sitting up too quickly, which in turn made the nausea appear in her stomach again. What am I going to do?

 

Even as the small bit of light coming through the windows of the room lit up a tall dark form in the doorway of the room, Aeri couldn’t help but feel betrayed. Betrayed by the haunting piano melody coming from the outside which now seemed to be mocking her and how it was so easy to get her guard down even though she was in the center of a hornet’s nest.

 

“Knock, knock,” the voice from her nightmares purred at her. He knew she was awake, of course. He was back to finish what he’d started. Two days or a week, my . So much for the truthfulness of Baekhyun’s words. And she had nothing to defend herself with - they could’ve hung her upside down again, it wouldn’t have made any difference. She knew she’d be helpless against the giant man who just wanted to get off by the sounds of her screams.

 

Her breathing turned into panting as she jumped from the bed, realizing she had to do something, anything. She ignored the pain in her legs, the dull ache in her stomach and the sense that she was on a boat rocking on water as she quickly waged her options - throw the chair at him, or throw the chair at the window and then jump through it. But it was too high, she’d break her neck as soon as she collided with the ground. The maple trees were too far away, she couldn’t possibly hope to reach their branches and make her retreat. There was nothing she could do, nothing-

 

Kris made his way over to her slowly, enjoying each second of the game like the predator he was. He knew there was nothing she could do, there was no place she could go to, so why hurry when he could draw out her pain and feed on her fear? She struggled to stay upright, the melody now making her feel dizzy because this was too much, too fast. Her stomach stirred and she felt as if she was going to throw up; she knew it was not just due to her dizziness and messed-up balance center.

 

“Don’t be afraid, little kitty,” he purred again, his voice now much closer to her place next to the wall. Her hands were gripping the chair tightly. Maybe she could get a good hit across and run for the door, but she doubted she would make it. He was too tall; he would catch her by the ankle and pull her back before she made a single step.

 

“Stay away from me, you sick psycho,” she growled, hoping to sidetrack him for at least a couple of seconds. He was the type of person to stop and narrate his plans to the victim for hours, although she didn’t know what she hoped to gain with time. For the person who’d been playing the melody on their phone to come to her aid? She didn’t even know who it was - it could be Kris’ older and more sick brother for all she knew. But there was something inside of her that knew there was something about that melody, something that she knew, something that made her dare to hope.

 

Kris chuckled, and it was so dark and sinful that a shudder rocked her spine. Not enough time had passed since his promises of doing all kinds of things to her, things she knew he was there to make good on. But she’d rather throw herself through the window than let it happen. She could do it, she knew. “You know your insults , right?”

 

And suddenly, it didn’t matter anymore. Not the melody, which was making something stir from deep within her, nor Kris gently trailing his hand on her hip, slowly inching towards her behind. Not even his sugar-sweet voice which was now too close to her ear saying, “I’m not here to hurt you, sugar. Tonight, I’m here to play. The memory of your moans wouldn’t let me fall asleep.”

 

It seemed like time had slowed down. He was just far away enough for her to slowly lift the chair without him sensing the movement. His touch was just gentle enough for her to be able to inch away, turning her body towards the closest window without raising suspicion. She even whimpered, turning her voice as whiny as possible whilst trying to get his mind into the gutter as much as she could. “But I don’t want to play. I’m too tired.” She hoped her false surrender would work, because if it didn’t and he sensed what she was going to do before she did it, it would be over. He’d use her body and she would be broken forever.

 

She had to find a way to prevent that from happening. She had to.

 

“Oh, baby, but you’ll be begging me for more soon enough, I promise.” She did not feel the urge to throw up anymore. All she could think about was how satisfied she would feel when she cut his throat with the broken glass. It didn’t matter what the Han clan did to her afterward. She didn’t care; all she wanted was to make this world a better place by ridding it of Kris Wu once and for all.

 

And just as he was about to grab her and make true on his promise of infinite pain for herself and infinite pleasure for him, she jumped towards the window, the chair clutched tightly into her hands. She didn’t stop when her sore muscles protested, or when she felt something start leaking out of her stomach wound from jerking too hard. She didn’t care that the whole world was spinning or that she missed a step, directly crashing into the window together with the chair. And she most certainly didn’t care about the alarmed, surprised sound Kris made behind her, his hands ghosting over her form as she fell too far out of his grasp for the moment.

 

There was a loud crashing sound and her whole left arm started tingling, a warm feeling spreading over it. She heard a loud thunk as the chair she’d thrown through the window collided with the ground below, and for a split second, she wondered if she should’ve followed it. But her body was already on autopilot, too many years of training kicking in to defend her from the menace that was already dragging her back by the ankles, shouting, “You stupid little ! You’re going to wake the whole compound up!” Somewhere at the back of her mind she noted that it was too silent now that she’d made her move, the melody disappearing into thin air. Perhaps I’d imagined it being played in the first place, she thought to herself.

 

She couldn’t help but start hysterically laughing as he dragged her back into the darkness of the room. Too late, er, she thought, because she had already found the two shards of glass she needed to bring this whole situation to a close. She trashed against him, but not in an effort to get away. No, she wanted to turn and then jump at him to jam the shards into his throat as deep as they’d go. Her leg muscles protested, already too weak and too strained from her previous efforts, but she didn’t care as she maneuvered them around.

 

This, this right here was why Jongdae hadn’t transferred her to another class of trainees. He knew that somewhere deep inside of her, bottled with anger and frustration and the sense of never being good enough, a savage bloodthirsty predator hid in waiting. He’d recognized it because he also had one inside of himself. He’d seen it one too many times after being called in to break a fight between her and one of the other douchebag trainees who’d called her Kyungsoo’s and who’d said her family had thrown her out because she was a disgraced bastard. He was always there to stop her before she did something she’d feel sorry for later, when she was back to being her normal self - he’d snatch her hands away before she was able to pull the trigger or carve the culprit’s heart out with her knife or break one too many bones.

 

It was why they all left her alone, in the end, whispering freak behind her back. But Jongdae wasn’t there to save Kris now.

 

Her voice rose over Kris’ cursing and pinning her body down. They were in the exact right position - her back on the floor, his hips on her own, pushing her down, his hands on her waist as he ground into her instead of trying to pin her wrists down. “Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” she said in a voice she didn’t recognize. A small part of her wanted her to snap out of this - to just cut his arm lightly or stab his leg so that he couldn’t follow when she ran away. Perhaps she could use the commotion to leave this forsaken place altogether-

 

“I’m going to make you pay for this,” Kris roared, and once again made the mistake of not focusing on her hands or on the glass in them. “I’m going to make this hurt so much.” No, he was too focused on ing her pants and ripping her underwear, on punishing her for being disobedient, and even though he knew everyone was going to be here in a matter of minutes, as soon as they realized what had happened and from which room the chair had been thrown away, he was intent on doing this to her. On laying her out like this for the whole world to see as he took her dignity - the only thing she had left - away forever.

 

She snapped.

 

She screamed, the sound echoing off the walls and coming back to her own head like a tidal wave. Her hands moved on their own accord, without her volition or having to give them the command to strike. And oh, she was going to enjoy feeling the life seep out of him with the blood. She was even sad that she wouldn’t be able to see the look on his face as he died and finally stopped torturing her.

 

Except none of it happened.

 

Time had slowed down before, but now it seemed to stop entirely, and three forms were frozen in place in a death grip.

 

Her hands hadn’t collided with Kris’ throat. The shards of glass were a couple millimeters away from his throat. Kris’ hands were stuck in a grip on her ed pants, having stopped mid-yanking them off when she’d screamed.

 

And in between them was a third person which Aeri recognized even though she could barely see anything. Even though she could only just make out a slight glint of fire in those dark brown eyes.

 

She’d recognize the scent of maples, of outdoors, of home anywhere. His brother was the light and he was the darkness which was enveloping her completely right now.

 

“Drop it.” His voice was soft but strict, leaving no room for argument.

 

And she did. Even though he was her enemy, she couldn’t deny him. Not when he was now the only thing between her and Kris. Not when something inside of her screamed at her that he would protect her from his spawn from hell.

 

Then she released a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. It came out ragged, ending in a hiccup. She would not cry, she kept telling herself. She would not cry while Kris was there. The adrenaline rush was slowly leaving her body, leaving her feeling empty and ashamed and oh my God, what was I about to do, oh my God I would’ve killed him.

 

Baekhyun’s hands took her own into his and squeezed tightly. He’ll protect you, that treacherous voice repeated. Her hands were shaking and she felt like Kyungsoo right before one of his panic attack episodes - she couldn’t breathe. Soon she’d be gasping for air and convulsing on the floor like a fish without water. She whimpered because Kris’ hands were still on her, he wasn’t moving, this was still happening, she needed to get away from here before he-

 

She felt the punch before she heard it. One of Baek’s hands was still gripping her own, and the other was suddenly turning and hitting Kris head-on somewhere on his face, presumably at the center. Hopefully his nose cracked. Hopefully it never healed and stayed crooked forever.

 

“Get out,” he growled at Kris. “Get the out of my sight.” Once again, his voice was low in intensity, but the thickness of it conveyed all the emotions well enough - the disgust, the anger, the despair, the fury. Her stomach twisted because she did not know how to feel about any of it. All she knew was that she needed Kris away.

 

When Kris failed to comply, Baekhyun roughly jammed his hands from Aeri’s pants and pushed him away. “Do not make me repeat myself.”

 

Aeri waited five seconds. She counted them in her head slowly. Five, four, three… All the while, Baekhyun didn’t move from where he was crouching above her, shielding her from Kris. Two, one…

 

A loud sob racked through her whole body and she started shuddering wildly. She hiccuped again and again as she began crying,  overwhelmed with everything that had happened since she’d accepted to search for a murderer in the woods around the Oh mansion. This wasn’t fair, she didn’t have anything to do with any of this, why had she deserved to be almost by a complete maniac whilst being held prisoner and tortured? Why did this have to happen to her?

 

“It’s okay,” Baekhyun whispered as he hugged her close to his body. “I’m here now. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” His hands wound into her hair as he rocked her, shushing her while holding her tightly against his chest. Her head was nestled in the crook of his neck where she hiccuped and cried. Her hands were dead weights, dangling off her body because she didn’t have the strength to push him away. She didn’t want to.

 

His words combined with the gentleness with which he was handling her only made her cry harder, and soon she was sniffling, embarrassed with what he was witnessing and the wetness that was soaking up his shirt. “I’m sorry,” he repeated again and she whimpered, not understanding what he was apologizing for in contrast to how warm why he was apologizing was making her feel. This wasn’t his fault. He wasn’t the one who’d done any of this to her. On the contrary, he’d sent his brother to tend to her wounds and questioned her in a civilized manner. He’d offered her kindness and protection more than once. Thank you, she wanted to say. Thank you so much.

 

She told herself she’d imagined the gentle kiss on the top of her head and how he seemed to hug her tightly afterward. Whether he was reassuring himself or her that everything was alright, she didn’t know and couldn’t bring herself to care.

 

All she knew was that she was home now.