“Do you realize that we haven’t gotten a single bit smarter?”

“Like besides the test scores?” Jinhwan thinks back, and it really makes sense. Maybe the reason they all got such high scores before was because they had more confidence in themselves. Maybe they were more motivated to learn after believing that they benefited from the extra IQ points, but in reality, all they did was pay more attention.

Maybe Myungeun really did die in vain.

The possibility sends shivers down his back, but so does the sight of Captain Sunggyu Kim walking towards them now.

“Oh, it’s Jinhwan,” he comments offhandedly with a glance at Gyuri. “Who’s this? Your girlfriend?”

There’s a stab of pain in Jinhwan’s heart, but before he can deny it, Gyuri smiles and takes his arm. “Yes, sir, we’re in the same seminar class.” Captain Kim’s eyebrows disappear into his bangs. “We tried to stay apart because, well, the Bonnie and Clyde murders, you know…”

Captain Kim grunts, accepting the reason, and Jinhwan lets out a breath of relief. “By the way,” the captain goes on, “Myungeun Kim’s body has been found.”

It’s like a slap in the face. Jinhwan can’t hide the shocked noise and expression he makes. “F-f-found?” he gasps out, panicked.

“Body?” Gyuri shrieks, making Jinhwan cringe. “Sh-she was dead all along?”

Captain Kim nods heavily. “We found her in the river.” His voice is quiet, deadly. “The face was so disfigured that we had to rely on dental records.”

. That was one mistake. Jinhwan’s heart pounds within his chest, and he feels like he’s going to throw up. After Captain Kim takes his leave, he disentangles himself from Gyuri.

“We need to get away.” He can’t think, can’t breathe. “It’s-- they’re going to find out.”

Gyuri nods, gaze fixated on the clouds in the sky. “We’ll use winter break as an excuse.”

So that’s why, as soon as classes let out, Jinhwan and Gyuri dash for the airport, tickets in hand, and board a plane for London. He doesn’t remember much from the flight, only that it was stressful and cold.

It’s snowing when they land. Jinhwan casts a glance at Gyuri, and she nods. They know what to do.

***

Jinhwan Kim and Gyuri Jang disappear off the face of the Earth. In the end, Changkyun Im finally confesses that approximately half the class had conspired together to murder Myungeun. In the end, he doesn’t know how many people showed up but believes that the ones who died must have had something to do with it.

Campus police puts out an Interpol notice for Jinhwan Kim and Gyuri Jang.

Their airplane tickets are traced to London, but of course they’re no longer there. Police chase them to their native Korea, back to America, and lose them again in Russia. They’d almost caught them in Korea, at one point, but Russia is so big that it would take years to do a thorough search.

They’re smart, these two. Pay for everything in cash, leave no trail behind. They have law enforcement running in circles, but in the end, it’s a rookie mistake that ends them.

Interpol has eyes and ears everywhere; somewhere, someone was bound to spot them, a young Asian couple who never speaks to outsiders. It’s undercover police who pick up their trail again, disguised as an old Russian couple selling pancakes on the streets.

They shouldn’t have stopped for the temptation of hot food. But, as Interpol bursts into the dilapidated shack in the middle of the woods in the middle of winter, they understand. More than ten people, all different ethnicities, shoved into this tiny, makeshift shelter, frostbite on their hands and legs. Russian police take all of them into custody, but Jinhwan and Gyuri refuse to cooperate, desperate to escape once more.

They’re almost feral, by this point, snarling in rage. But, weak with hunger, Jinhwan drops to the frozen ground, and Gyuri follows soon after.

***

When he wakes up again, Jinhwan finds himself in a stark white room, strapped to a metal table. The smooth surface burns his skin, and he finds that, though the straps allow him to make slight movements, he can’t muster the energy to do so.

Suddenly, he feels the harsh Russian wind again, drying out his already cracked and blistered skin, taking away what little heat he managed to conserve. He remembers how he suffered, the days upon weeks of huddling on the frozen dirt ground, starving to death with the convicted murderers from other countries, losing his mind in the hopeless misery.

Russian winters are ruthless, unforgiving, and Jinhwan almost wishes he had died there, just so he won’t have to suffer now, at the hands of law enforcement.

Something clanks right then, and Jinhwan jerks in surprise. He doesn’t bother lifting his head; who else could it be but the police?

“Jinhwan Kim.” The voice is familiar, soft, and blood rushes into Jinhwan’s face.

“Captain Sunggyu Kim,” he croaks out in response. His words don’t sound like words, having not been used in weeks. Something cold touches his lips. He doesn’t want to open his mouth, but someone who can only be Captain Kim forces him to take the tube between his teeth.

“It’s nothing bad. You’re still severely dehydrated.”

Jinhwan obeys, up the water. He doesn’t know whether it tastes like plastic from the straw or the cup, but the cool liquid is welcome in his body, flowing down his esophagus and awakening his body from its comatose state.

A warmth appears next to his thigh; the captain must have sat down. “Jinhwan, we know a group of your classmates killed Myungeun.” Of course. Of course it was too good to be true, of course they needed something from him, of course that’s why they kept him alive.

He laughs, an ugly, rusted sound from his chest. “They’re all dead now,” he rasps out. “Go ask Gyuri, she’ll tell you.”

He tries to turn his head away but can’t. His muscles, still tense from his time on the run, refuse to cooperate. “We are asking her.” Captain Kim’s voice hasn’t changed at all, and when he leans in, Jinhwan can smell his cologne, cloying and repulsive. “You’re going to die anyway, you know that, right?” He knows it. “You will both die, so there is no point in holding back.”

Somehow, Jinhwan doubts that Gyuri will try to protect him like he just tried to protect her. “Alright.” He’s tired, so tired. From the beginning to the end, the joke to the real thing, the process of killing everyone involved, the entirety of their escape, he tells it all. Even though he leaves out his relationship with Hwanhee, it seems like the captain already knows.

“Very well.” He stands up, and Jinhwan can see the faint sadness in his eyes. “That matches up with what Gyuri told us.” He pauses, evidently struggling to find the correct words. “I thought you were a good kid. I liked you a lot, you know.”

He hadn’t known, but it doesn’t make any difference now.

***

Jinhwan’s heart falls as they roll him into the room. It’s a machine, not a person, that will execute him. He knows why - the executioners would gain IQ points that way - and the bitter irony makes him laugh, a short, humorless bark that echoes off the bleak walls of the execution room. Somewhere else within the depths of the prison, Gyuri must be facing the same situation, strapped into a gurney, waiting for death.

“Will it hurt?” he asks out loud, craning his neck into an uncomfortable upright position. It’s pointless asking; the attendants have already left, and he is alone in the room. The single large window across from him is tinted, clearly only visible from the other side. Jinhwan wrinkles his nose at them, twisting his wrist to give the window a middle finger. “At least answer my question, I deserve to know.”

There will be no answer, he knows, because there is no speaker in the room. With another bitter laugh, Jinhwan lets his head fall back onto a thin pillow. Probably there so he doesn’t bash himself to death on the plastic gurney before they kill him.

“You know,” he says, as a loud whirring sound fills the room, “I would have really loved to be executed by firing squad.” Beside him, the armlike machine extends, and with a clank, a vial of clear liquid drops into a holder of some sort. Jinhwan’s heart skips a beat.

“Aw, come on.” He can’t help but pull at his bonds with all his strength, desperately seeking escape. It’s useless; he can’t move a single inch. The room grows hot, and his own breathing echoes loudly, raggedly, in his ears. “Come o-on! Drugs, for real?”

He’s desperate now, panicking, and all the while, the machine is assembling the syringe. Jinhwan feels his chest constrict suddenly, as if someone has stuffed cotton into his lungs. He can’t breathe, something isn’t letting him breathe, the cotton is too much -- but his lungs are fine and his throat is fine, but he just can’t breathe, and tears form in his eyes as the machine finishes the syringe and takes it in its robotic hand.

“No!” His voice bursts out the same time as his tears. Jinhwan is crying, sobbing, trembling on the table, trying to move away from the machine as it advances towards him with his death sentence. “No, no, no, I don’t want to die!” He’s babbling now, tears running down his throat and choking him for real. Something cold and sharp touches his upper arm, and Jinhwan knows it’s all over.

He closes his eyes and resigns himself to death.

How utterly pathetic, he thinks, as coldness seeps through his veins. The IQ points aren’t even worth it.