010.

               The room started to shape again. A few head shapes formed in circle around her. Her head was still spinning and her body still felt slightly light. Then, the heads started to hone into faces, revealing Erika, Suho, Jongin, and Naeun. Their knots in their faces shift loose as Naeun’s eyes blinked. She was now leaned against the wall. She felt a hand behind her head as to protected her from the wood carving on the wall.

               Erika’s face turned pale. “I’m sorry, Naeun. It was my fault.” She offered a glass of water that she had been holding.

               Naeun took the glass and sipped it slowly. Suho gave a tight smile and his eyes casted upon Naeun and then Erika. He kissed Erika on her hair. His hands brushed against Erika’s hair and it. “I’m sorry, too, Naeun. We should’ve warned you.”

               Naeun heard Jongin’s deep voice on her right ear. “Are you feeling better?”

               Naeun instinctively beveled from the source of his sound. It was so gentle she almost didn’t recognize him for a slight second. Naeun realized as she shifted that Jongin’s arm had been reaching the back of her head, settled in its nest. She still wasn’t used with Jongin in a short-ranged gap on her, especially since these months of cold shoulder. It wasn’t because she didn’t like his presence, but the walls he build between her was shoving her into an uncomfortable position every time they were close to each other. She needed to acclimatize to his newly-built walls because it was different than former conditions.

               “I-I’m good. I’m okay.” She sat up and felt the hand behind her head slipped away. Jongin put his hand across his head, running on his ruffled hair and making more mess on his hair. His brows were still furrowed, but he managed to level off the rest of his look. His dark eyes were shimmering in resentment. Naeun knew that he was impatient.

               “So, do you have any idea who is it?”

               Erika sighed. “Our best bet is Huang Zitao. But, he is never called Zhuzi.”

               Suho’s hand rested on Erika’s shoulder as both shifted to sit on the floor. “It’s definitely has something to do with the Chinese family. My knowledge in the Chinese families is limited.”

               Alan spoke up from across the room. “Father has a lot of enemies – in and out of South Korea. Chinese mainland is not exempted of it. The guesses are just too variable.”

               “What do they want from me?” Naeun managed to ask. Her words were still slightly trembling.

               Erika rested her palm on Naeun’s leg, reassuring her. She wasn’t the person that acted like she wanted to whip Naeun’s leg for entertainment. No. Her expression was much more genuine and her touch was too gentle. It made Naeun barely remember the Erika she met a few months ago. Erika looked at Naeun. “I don’t know. I have no idea.”

               Naeun spoke. Her tone was firm. “This is Huang Zitao. I’m sure. He’s behind everything.”

               Jongin heaved a sigh before he gave a little nod. He gained his posture and his voice turned adamant. “This has everything to do with Han Naeun.”

               Naeun felt the energy she built up rushed out in agitation. She had to put the glass down on her thigh or she might break the glass.

               “I pulled the Huangs out from the agreement because he almost put a bullet on Naeun’s head.”

               Erika and Suho tensed. Naeun knew about this information, but her face was still tight from hindrance. Alan, obviously, knew about it. He was the first person to know. This news didn’t seem to affect him as he didn’t give much reaction upon this revelation. Instead, Alan scrutinized Naeun. His eyes bore through hers. He seemed cared less to nothing by the uncomfortable sentiment he sent to the back of Naeun’s spine. It shoved Naeun down to the ground. He did nothing but shift on another leg. He broke off the stare and Naeun felt she could exhale.

               “Why did you not tell me sooner?” Suho asked Jongin.

               Jongin just shrugged. “I didn’t think it would get this big.”

               “That makes sense,” Erika pondered. “Last I heard from my source that Zitao was pulled from various projects. I think his father pulled his buttons.”

               “Alan,” Suho called. Alan strode to him. “Did the Huangs ever contact us after the incident?”

               “Once,” Alan answered. “I believe it was a particularly brief conversation with Father.”

               “What did he say?”

               “He said sorry and it was ashamed for his son behavior,” Alan elaborated in a tedious tone. “Father said what Tao said must not be condoned – fùqīn said he doesn’t condone it either.”

               “So, he betrayed his family?” Naeun questioned.

               “Then, our next question will be,” Suho summed up. His tone was full burden. “Whose wings he hides on?”

               Nobody gave an answer. There was a long silence before Jongin stood up and strode on a big cabinet near Father’s desk. He pulled one of the books that was stored there and there was a loud whizzing sound as the books shuffled out of sight, revealing a lot of weapons. He fiddled with those, picking up several guns – scrutinizing them – put them back in place – scrutinizing another – checking it, then slid it on his pants’ holster.

               Jieun helped Naeun got up as the rest began to stand up and make space for themselves. Erika was talking in a low whisper with Suho, nobody could hear whatever they were discussing except a few vowel sounds. Alan sat near the desk, observing everyone with a dreary look. Naeun realized that he looked the most well than anyone in the room. Considering his high position, Naeun thought he would look more bewildered than well-kempt.

               “I’m coming with you.” Jieun said to Jongin.

               Jongin immediately shook his head. His eyes didn’t betray from list of daggers in front of him. “No. This is strictly me and Naeun. We can’t risk another casualty today.”

               “There will be no casualty!”

               “Of course,” Jongin didn’t waver. “But, worst-case scenario.”

               “That’s bull!” Jieun refused. Her tone was higher. “We both know that Naeun can’t even hold a weapon.”

               Somehow, the statement made Naeun’s stomach tightened. Jieun had made it sound like Naeun was pathetic and she knew that Jieun was true. Naeun just wanted to vomit of how exact she was. She realized something that she needed to take care of herself. She brought this upon herself and the least she can do was to protect herself. It dawned her that she had always treated Kim Jongin as her safety net and she hadn’t had any contingency plan. She just relied to Kim Jongin so much because he was always there … around the corner.

               Naeun walked closer to them. She peered on the list of daggers and guns on the cabinet. There were so many: mostly black and pocket-sized, but there were shiny ones – revolvers and with the daggers, they vary in shapes and sizes. Jongin’s hand hovered between the small needle-like daggers and gold eagle pommel with slim blade. Though the blade was slim, it still can seriously maim with its sharp edge. The dagger began to materialize clearly in her sight, calling for her to take it. It promised to be a compliance – companion. A resilient friend.

               Naeun spoke up. “I’ll take the gold handle.”

               Jieun looked at Naeun, astounded. She exchanged gaze with Jongin, but Naeun could swore Jongin’s lips perked up. He took the gold dagger and offered it to Naeun. She held the dagger, caressing the blade gently. She could feel the edge of the blade foreboding to amend Naeun’s skin. The dagger was surprisingly light despite its look. It fit right on Naeun’s hand.

               Naeun felt Jongin’s smirk as he gave her a dirty golden sheath. “Careful.” He walked past her.

               Naeun looked at Jieun for assurance, but she only raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. Then, she gave a low chuckle before patting Naeun in the shoulder. She sighed and sat on the floor, back leaning against the desk.

               Naeun sheathed the dagger and followed her. It has been a while since both saw each other and she admitted that the apartment was getting boring without Jieun in it. But she knew that Jieun was doing her part in the family. Naeun just wished she could be more of a help to Jieun. She sensed Jieun’s tense shoulder against her.

               Jieun put her head on her shoulder. Naeun shifted to make her more comfortable. She was still holding the gold dagger. “I’ll be okay, Jieun.”

               She paused. “I know you will.”

               Naeun jabbed Jieun’s stomach lightly with the pommel of the dagger. “That’s bull.”

               “Fine,” Jieun flinced and gave up. “I am worried.”

               “Maybe you can give me a few lessons on using weapon?”

               Jieun looked at Naeun for a while, amazed. Then, she shrugged and sat up. “Sure. I’ll talk to Jongin about it.”

               Naeun heaved a relieved breath. She didn’t really want to ask permission to Jongin at the present moment.

               The tension in the room lessened as Alan left the room. Naeun watched his back leave the room and her spine drove a familiar chill on her spine. Alan’s boring eyes came into the forefront of her mind and it lingered enough to make Naeun wondered of Alan. His existence alone could let her know that she was unwanted on sight.

               Suho’s call on Naeun crashed away her thoughts. Naeun stood and walked to him. She didn’t need to tell Jieun to follow because she was already tailing her. Suho was unsmiling when Jongin caught into the circle. He looked back and forth to Jongin and Naeun before he spoke to Jongin. “What’s your plan?”

               Jongin shrugged. “Go in there and ask.”

               Erika tried hard to not roll eyes at his response. Suho didn’t seem pleased with him, too. “You’ll need a plan.”

               “I’ll improvise.”

               “You won’t get to improvise if you died first, brother.”

               Jongin defied Suho’s disapproving stare. He played with his tone in a way to provoke him. “So, what are you suggesting, The Eldest?”

               Suho barely flinched to his label. But the tension between them spiked and their similar dark eyes blaze. Noticing the energy shift, Jieun hid behind Naeun and let out a conscious cough. She was reluctant to see the matter unfold. Naeun could pick up that both of them had something against each other. And everyone seemed to acclimatize to the situation as if it was something that happen regularly. She had a feeling that it wasn’t over some trivial things, such as the letter.

               “The last time you gave any suggestion, someone died.” Jongin added.

               No.

               It definitely dug deeper. It was bad blood and past.

               Suho had to clenched his jaw to maintain his resolute posture. Naeun saw Erika’s fingers slowly tangled on Suho and she saw him relaxed. But Erika stepped forward, shaping Suho’s infuriation into her own.

               Erika’s eyes pierced to Jongin as it satiable to kill. Suho had to step in first. “I’m suggesting for a contingency plan, brother,” Suho said. “In case you don’t want to die. But, be my guest, brother. I can order you a slot for cremation right away.” He imperviously added. Jongin only cocked his head slightly in aggravation. Jieun almost made a sound on his statement. She was enjoying the view.

               “Whoever it is, they won’t want an uninvited.” Jongin replied.

               “True,” A hint of pique in her voice still dripped down. “That’s why we need a rendezvous point.”

               “Where do you think that would be?” Jieun said, interested.

               “There’s a safe house in Sinheung-ro,” Erika tapped her phone a few times before she looked at Naeun. “I’ve sent the exact coordinates to the GPS in the car you’ll be taking.” She shifted her eyes on Jongin. The malice in her eyes were no more than a wariness. “Whether things go south or not, you’ll be meeting us there. I’ve facilitated it with security and medic – just in case.”

               Suho peered at the hanging clock behind Naeun. “It’s almost thirteen hundred hour. You must go.” Then, he looked at Jongin. “Careful.”

               Jongin only gave a brief gaze on Suho before he turned his heels and he met Naeun’s eyes. His dark eyes shifted into a dark gleam. He was ready for anything. But Naeun was hovering between doubt and fear. The sheathed dagger in her hold began to damp from her own cold sweat. Jongin didn’t break his gaze when he commanded her, “Put the dagger behind your back. Place it between your jeans and your back.”

               She compelled at once. She slipped her dagger between her jeans and underwear. He waited Naeun to settle her dagger on her back without splitting his gaze from her. His eyes shimmer with fire, as usual, but there was a hint of hushed sincerity just inside his pupils. Had it not been the struggling dagger behind her back, she would have lost in it. She had to break the gaze first in the act of fiddle with the dagger, but he didn’t stir. Just when she decided to hide the settled dagger with untucked her shirt and let it fall freely on her thigh, he gave a faint reassuring nod.

               “Good girl.” He said as he walked out the room.

               The car ride with Jongin alone didn’t feel as suffocating as she thought it would be. Jongin was quiet the whole journey, turning and swerving to crossroads and alleyways like he’d been there before. He didn’t even need to activate the GPS. He only tapped his fingers against the steering wheel occasionally as the traffic lights turned red. Both didn’t exchange any conversation throughout the ride. He didn’t even spare Naeun a glance and kept his eyes on the road. Even when she put down the visor against the burning sun.

               Itaewon looked barren with the closed clubs and night shops. There were only several shops that opened in the daylight. She wondered why they needed her in Itaewon – in bright daylight. As she looked at the road ahead, she felt separated of her surroundings. Her own heart felt like it sunk onto her back as if it was begging to be concealed. Her thumb unconsciously was digging deep on the cuticle of her other thumb. It surprised her how numb it felt like. She thought that a few months would acclimatize her to the constant vigilance of mortal peril. But it never really got better. It still plagued her as cruel as the first.

               If they wanted to kill her, they would’ve done it when the sun has set. Right?

               The thought mended her strained heartbeats for a bit.

               As the car turned to another lane, Naeun began to know why they – whoever it was that sent the letter – wanted to meet in the Chung Food Express. The scorching hot sun was almost invisible. The weather became an overcast with lines of shadow of shops intertwined on the asphalt road. The lining shops on each side were dark and unscathed. Like everybody had forgotten this part of Itaewon. Naeun could count on one hand for the shops that were still open.

               This didn’t seem like Itaewon at all.

               The car turned to a dead end in between the shops and Jongin turned the car off. He shifted on his seat, pulling out the gun that he had tucked on his holster. He put his left hand over the top of the slide and pulled it back in quick reflex. In quick seconds, the magazine fell out to his hand and he scrutinized the magazine before putting it back inside the gun. He put the gun back in the holster and stepped out of the car.

               Jongin didn’t need to speak for Naeun to follow him. She stalked behind him, looking cautiously left and right, even though it was just walls surrounding her. She slipped her hand on the dagger, feeling it – trying to feel more secure. The tracing of the eagle pommel soothed her. At least, this time, she didn’t walk into the fire empty-handed. She had a dagger. Her first weapon. The sentiment of being defenseless had already felt like a shimmer. It was there, but it wasn’t as disturbing. She could settle with it for a while.

               Jongin turned to the main road and passed three impassable shops with broken windows and half-attached signs. He stopped in front of a dim shop. When Naeun looked up, her sight was greeted by a hanging sign of a dusty illustration of a Chinese boy holding a bowl of noodles. Familiar blocks of words surrounded the boy as his identity.

               CHUNG FOOD EXPRESS.

               They arrived. Jongin peeked at the shop and Naeun followed his gaze. Her eyes caught two heads inside the shop, their back was confronting her sight. She couldn’t see their faces nor did she would know.

               Jongin opened the door carefully. As the hinge creaked like they were meant to wake the dead, the blemished ring taped on the door chimed in great volume. Naeun flinched by how bad the ring rebounded in her eardrums. Nevertheless, she followed Jongin forward, stepping onto dusty ceramic floor. Its marbles had lost its sparkle and all it left was an overlay of brown dust. She could feel the heels of her shoes complained as the dust begged to join her.

               The white walls had fractures on each side of the room. The kitchen counter looked like it was cleaned just enough to put down plates. Whoever designed the counter, they didn’t have sense of décor at all. It was the blandest counter she had encountered in a shop. Almost all of the tables and chairs were folded against one side of the room. It only left one table in the middle of the room with four chairs which two were occupied by two masculine figures.

               “Ah! Right in time,” The man bellowed in zeal. “Come here, The Right Arm.” His left hand was waving in the air but he paid no effort to move the rest of his body.

               They walked to the table. There were two men, eating their respective box of noodles. One was a rather old man with canescent hair. He looked neat with his set of dark blue suit. The other one was a rather young man. He dyed his hair to a blonde and slicked it back neatly. His face was beautiful: no aging lines, smooth textured skin, and slim features. He didn’t dress as formal as the latter. He only wore a white shirt with two upper buttons purposely left unlatched and a basic black pants. His allure was confident to compete against Jongin. It didn’t matter much. Jongin with his fitted black shirt would win the challenge any time.

               Naeun stood with Jongin, waiting for them to notice their presence. The pretty boy only spared Naeun a half glance as he ate his food.

               The older man looked up to see them and smiled. “Ah, be my guests.” He beckoned at the two empty seats opposite them.

               Jongin pressed a thin line on his mouth and sat down. Naeun sat in front of the pretty boy, preoccupied with his chopsticks and catching the noodles between his teeth. The older man gave a delightful hum as he grinded the noodles on his mouth. He waved his noodles in the air as he said with a full mouth of noodles. “I’m sorry for our manner. This noodle is so good.”

               “Please, Mr. Lu.” Jongin leaned back. His tone bit back the impatience on his gaze.

               “How is Father?” Mr. Lu leisurely took a mouthful of noodle.

               Jongin clenched his palm beneath the table before he maintained an impervious tone. “I thought you knew as you are the one who shot him.”

               Mr. Lu laughed. “Oh, boy, I wouldn’t know.” He waved his chopsticks again. “We have no part in Father’s attempted assassination.”

               “Don’t try to lie, Mr. Lu,” Jongin leaned into the table. Both of his hands propped against the table. “I found the letter to this meeting after we searched the subdivision.”

               Mr. Lu stopped eating. He dropped his chopstick and looked straight to Jongin. His eyes was challenged. “Don’t accuse me of something so cruel, The Right Arm.”

               “I pointed out the truth.” Jongin fisted his palm under the table, trying to swallow the anger down.

               He narrowed his eyes and pulled out a piece of paper from his suit. He laid the wrinkled paper in the middle of the table. He beckoned at the paper. “Open it.”

               Jongin took the paper and opened it. The pretty boy stopped eating and peered to the opened paper against the table. Naeun held her breath as she noticed the same handwriting but different words were laid.

               ThE RiGHT ArM WiLL SeTTLE fOR A PaRLAY.

               1300. CHuNG FoOD EXpRESS. ITAEWON.

               Jongin went still. His eyes didn’t betray the content of the letter and read it all again. Naeun did too. She realized that the letter didn’t mention anything about her. Her insides felt like they were curled up into a ball. She could hear her heartbeats reverberating on her chest. It dawned her of what happen: she was trapped into the summit. But what was the fore contextual of her invite in the previous letter? Was it just to play with her? But who would play with her? Zitao, the main perpetrator, wasn’t here. So, what did Mr. Lu need from her? Unanswered questions swirling on her mind, breaking each piece of her heartbeats.

               “Where did you get this?” Jongin asked.

               “It came with the morning paper!” He said as if it was preposterous. He picked up his chopsticks again. “I thought the Kim is ready to lay out the terms.”

               “What terms?”

               “The terms to the collaborative project of ours.”

               “What collaborative project?”

               Mr. Lu titled his head. “You didn’t know?”

               “I didn’t.” Though he felt impatient, Jongin managed to control his tone.

               Mr. Lu shrugged, finishing off the noodles. “I asked for a clear pathway to join the Korea affiliation.” He shifted to sat up. “You see: I need my products to reach new market – simply branching out my business.”

               “You want to smuggle drugs into the Korea?” Jongin cocked his eyebrow.

               “To put it mildly,” Mr. Lu smiled. “Yes.”

               “And I take it Father doesn’t like the notion?”

               Mr. Lu waved in dismissal. “He just doesn’t see the bigger picture. While you—” He pointed at Jongin. “I heard that you are sensible and visionary in running businesses.”

               “Perhaps you think too highly of me.”

               “Perhaps,” Mr. Lu became much more eager. “But I believe this is the true calling to actually put this notion into the market.”

               Jongin paused, then shrugged in defeat. “If Father already denied, then I believe I have no choice than to refuse once more.”

               Mr. Lu eyes darkened. He put aside the empty box and make room for his clasped hands. “Then, I’ll take the girl.”

               She felt her heart dropped onto the floor. “I’m sorry—what?”

               The pretty boy set aside the leftover box and joined the play. He started by putting a smirk on his face. Mr. Lu explained with his eyes fixed on Jongin. He didn’t seem to set attention to the girl he had parlayed. “I believe you know Zitao, The Right Arm. He is an essential asset to my business and a loyal friend to the family. I treat him like my own son – but that’s not the point. A few weeks ago, Zitao was extracted from all Huang businesses and left to his own accords. My dear Right Arm, this has put all of my business in jeopardy. Some has to be taken down – well, it’s a mess.

               This is the outline of the scene you caused, The Right Arm. And I need the girl to be taken to my custody so I can take the girl to Fuqin and set matters straight. I personally think that this is a win-win solution for all of us.” He leaned back to the chair and put his feet on top of his other thigh.

               “What’s in it for us?” Jongin asked and Naeun felt her heart shattered across the floor.

               “We can make sure there will be no attempted murder on Father anymore.” The pretty boy finally spoke.

               “Then, you agree that you’ve planted the sniper for Father early today?”

               The pretty boy almost instantly shrugged. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He crossed his arms in front of his chest. “I just simply offer a hand to end matters.”

               Jongin tilted his head and tapped his fingers against the wooden table. “I am impatience to liars, Luhan.”

               The pretty boy only grinned to his name.

               Mr. Lu tapped the lying paper. His eyes gleamed unsatiable. “Is this not enough proof? Should we attest the power we both hold?”

               Jongin narrowed his eyes to the pretty boy. “What should I do to hold your statement?”

               “I’ll give you my firstborn daughter.” He replied lightly. Jongin wasn’t pleased with his answer. The room knew that it was just a witty rebuttal. He had nothing to give to proof his statement was true, and so did Jongin. But he had to try.

               “The Lu family griefs with you on Father attempted assassination, The Right Arm.” Mr. Lu gave a concerned look. “We mean no harm.”

               Jongin paused, calculating in his head.

               “So,” Mr. Lu cocked his eyebrow, confident to end of the summit. “Are you willing to give the girl to me?”

               “She’s been branded.”

               Mr. Lu shrugged in dismissal. “She is not needed for any manpower. I just need the girl.”

               Jongin pursed his lips into a thin line. “I’ll see if it fits.”

               Naeun couldn’t feel her chest. It was hollow – every sense in her body emptied out on its own and she wanted to scream into the cavity. But she could only feel the aching of immense despair flowing through her body, like fluid, like poison. It pinched the columns of and she felt like she didn’t know how to breath. She wanted to gasp for air, but then an abrupt laugh and chairs creaking against the floor numbed the pain away for a second.

               Mr. Lu and Luhan stood up in unison. Jongin reluctantly stood and as Mr. Lu proposed a hand to shook, Jongin shook them without second thought. Luhan stared onto Naeun, inspecting her on every part of her body. Then, he stayed just under her chest. They rested on her . Naeun felt her dagger throbbed behind her back. Then, he tilted his head and clicked his tongue in displeased.

               He hovered his finger and made a turning motion with it. “Turn around, Han Naeun.”

               Naeun didn’t conformed.

               He clicked his tongue again. “Not even an obedient dog.”

               They left her writhing in her own despair.