When Seungwan arrived at Chen's building, she found the door to the basement open. It was resting up against the frame with the metal bar of the lock slid out, like it had bounced open after being closed before the lock could catch. It made her immediately nervous, because Jongdae did not strike her as the kind of person who would be careless like that. Not when he was part of such dangerous things.

"Jongdae?" she called carefully. All the things that could have gone wrong for a person who associated with drug runners and gangsters flooded through her mind. His enemies could have found his place, or he could have gotten injured again and been too badly hurt to close the door...when she got no reply from inside, she carefully pushed the door further open and crept down the stairs. She heard nothing from inside, but the dull light bulb was on. When she peeped around the edge of the stairwell wall, she saw nothing but an empty room. Her eyes went to the bed first, the mattress on its old wooden pallets, but he wasn't there, and the bathroom door was open, showing her the tiny tiled combined shower room and laundry was empty too.

Convinced that there were no intruders, at least, Seungwan stepped inside properly and looked around. It was then that she finally saw Jongdae, sitting against the same wall she had been looking around, out of her line of sight until now. His legs were pulled up, arms folded on his knees and head buried in them, so that all she could see of him were messy black locks of hair falling over his arms. Curled up tight like that, so small when you took away the air of lethal grace he carried himself with, he looked childlike and painfully alone.

"Jongdae," she said softly, feeling like she was trying to approach a wounded, wild creature. "It's me. Seungwan."

The only sign that he'd heard her was a slight tightening of his fingers. She walked cautiously over and crouched down in front of him, reaching out carefully with the intention of taking his hands and unfolding them from where they gripped his elbows. As soon as her fingers brushed his skin Jongdae lifted his head and looked straight at her. His face was tear-stained, eyes red. He'd been crying.

Seungwan's heart fell. Before she could even think, she was scrambling on her knees to his side and wrapping her arms around him. She felt him stiffen for just a second before he relaxed, leaning into her as she pulled his forehead gently to her shoulder. Like this, she could feel that he was very slightly trembling. She held him a little tighter.

"What is it?" she murmured. She wasn't really expecting him to answer her, and he didn't, at least not in words, but the way he pressed against her told her how much he needed her. He knew she was with the police, and still he was allowing her to come to him. That told her that she was right to trust her instincts.

After a few moments Jongdae whispered, "Why are you here?" 

"I needed to see you," Seungwan said. "Chanyeol told me you found out, that you wanted me out. I had to tell you that I never meant to lie to you. I was doing all this for Baekhyun. When I first met you in the convenience store, that very first time, before I even knew you were Jongdae, let alone Chen, I think I knew even then, just a little bit...there was something about you that drew me to you. And what happened the other night...that was something I can't give up, Jongdae. You are something I can't give up."

Jongdae lifted his head, pulling back a little to look at her. She let her arms fall as he shifted around so that they were facing each other. She'd seen pain in his face, in his eyes, before, but what she saw now was nothing but despair. That look shook her right to the core.

"You must," he told her. "You must give me up. You must get out of this world. I cannot keep you safe here."

"I don't care about being safe," Seungwan said fiercely. "If I cared about that, I'd never have started all this. I care about you. I don't care what you do. I don't care if you're a drug dealer or a gang leader or whatever. Baekhyun loved you, and I -"

"You mustn't," Jongdae interrupted. His eyes, his voice, were tight. "Please, Seungwan. Please don't."

She wanted to hold him so badly, but she could see how he was closing himself up, building walls, trying to push her away.

"Why?" she whispered.

"I have to do something today," Jongdae said. His eyes were shuttering too, now. "Something very dangerous, and..." his voice cracked. "I've lost Xiumin. So I have to do it alone."

Seungwan felt a chill creep down her spine. "Jongdae, what are you saying?"

He shook his head tightly, and when she reached for him he made a strange, pushing gesture with his hands, almost blindly. He scrambled to his feet and took a step backwards, away from her. 

"You started this to find Baekhyun's killer. I know who that is now. What I'm going to do tonight, it's going to make it so that Park Chanyeol can get him. It'll all be over. So go to Chanyeol, Seungwan. He'll look after you. Forget about me. I was just a part of your cover, nothing more."

"No!" Seungwan scrambled to her feet too. She knew he was trying to protect her by saying these things, but how, how could she listen when every word was tearing them both apart? "Jongdae, how can I just stop caring for you? Caring isn't like a switch I can turn on and off. I can't just forget you. Hearts don't work like that."

Jongdae curled up a little, hunched forward, like what she'd said had hurt him somewhere deep inside. "I know," he whispered. "But I still have to go."

"Don't," she begged. "You say it like you won't come back. Please, Jongdae. I don't care how important whatever you're going to do is. Don't make me lose you too."

Jongdae took a shuddering breath and let it out. "The world gives us back what we show it," he said, and his face twisted, as though saying these words caused him some great pain she couldn't understand. "I was hurt too young, Seungwan. I never had a chance. But you can still show the world your smiles. And because of that, the world will smile on you."

"Jongdae..."

He stepped forward and put both his hands on her shoulders. "You'll make a great police officer, Shon Seungwan," he whispered, and leaned in to press a gentle kiss to her forehead. "I'm proud of you."

Seungwan closed her eyes with the pain of it. She felt his hands leave her shoulders, and when she opened her eyes again, he was gone.

---

They reached Gwangju's house at 5 in the afternoon. The three-hour drive down had been almost completely silent. Chen had driven, the tall Chinese man in the passenger seat beside him, arm still in a sling from the bullet he'd taken to the shoulder back at the nightclub. Kris had bowed respectfully enough when Chen had picked him up from the detention centre, but that was about as far as their interaction went. Chen felt the absence of Xiumin fiercely. He should have Xiumin beside him now, laughing in the face of danger the way he always did, and Tao, the kid who'd become a permanent shadow to Xiumin along too, with his wushu skills making him need no weapon at all to be deadly. Instead he had silent, brooding Kris, and yet another wound in his heart. He hadn't asked anyone else to come with him to replace Xiumin. Tao, Kai, and Lay were all Xiumin's people, and he didn't trust anyone else enough for this.

They were both searched at the gate to the vast traditional hanok. Chen handed over his K5 and switchblade without protest. Now he had to rely on Jwi to somehow get his weapons back to him. He'd prefer the handgun, but the switchblade would be easier to conceal and pass in the palm of a hand. He hated this part of the plan. Relying on Jwi was something that went against every fibre of his being.

The guards let them through, and another pair began to lead them through the maze of wooden corridors. The hanok was single-floored, expansive and beautiful, multiple rooms and wings opening onto tidy courtyard spaces filled with ornamental trees and little ponds. They crossed a large central courtyard ringed all around by slatted-tile roofs with their curved-up corners. At the other side, Jwi appeared. He nodded at the two guards and fell into step beside Chen. 

"So glad you could make it, Chen," he said, smirking, and Chen felt the brush against his side as something slipped into the pocket of his jacket. The weight and bulk of it told him that it was the K5. He was grudgingly impressed. Jwi continued to blather inanely, sending a few taunts his way for good measure, until they reached a set of large carved wooden doors. There was a teenage boy waiting beside the steps to the raised veranda. He looked about fifteen or sixteen, dressed in wispy garments that showed off his thin, graceful limbs, and obviously on edge as he fidgeted with his hands and shot a nervous glance at Jwi.

"This is where I must leave you, Chen," Jwi said. "Heechul is waiting. He wanted me to get his lovely Luhan back for him, but your people hid him too well. With any luck, Taeyong here will suffice." He took Taeyong's chin between his finger and thumb and turned his face towards Chen. "Seems like Heechul's style, don't you think?"

Chen ground his teeth as fury kindled inside him. He wanted nothing more than to slam Jwi's filthy head into the ground and get this kid out of here, but he couldn't. This was Jwi's distraction for Heechul, so that Chen could get Gwangju without Heechul's support. He couldn't bear to reply. He looked away, promising himself that the first thing he would do after securing Gwangju would be to find this child and get him the hell out of here.

Jwi took Taeyong by the hand and led him away. The guards had been conferring with the ones on the inside of the hall, and now they let Chen and Kris step through. 

The room inside was large and dimly lit, lamps set into the wall setting the deep tones in the antique wooden walls and floors glowing. A huge table filled the centre of the room, and at the head of it, in a carved, high-backed wooden chair, sat Gwangju. Chen took in every detail of his surroundings as he made his way up the side of the large table. Two guards at the door, two more standing behind Gwangju's chair, and another two right up at the far end of the room. Six guards, plus Kris at Chen's side, who was injured but must still not be underestimated, and Gwangju himself. It was the first time Chen had seen the man in person, but he had studied photographs, which were not difficult to find, as Director Kim's legitimate activities as head of the cultural assets charity included many public events. In person Director Kim looked as kindly as he did in his public photographs. Chen could see a hint of Heechul's delicacy in the shape of his nose and chin. Heechul himself was nowhere in sight. Jwi was doing his job. Anger continued to smoulder inside Chen. He couldn't get Taeyong's scared eyes out of his mind. He was so sick of being forced to turn a blind eye. He was so sick of everything.

He just had to keep it together a little while longer. He took hold of himself firmly. No matter how much he felt like he was going to fly apart, he had to get through this one last task. This was the culmination of eight years of suffering. It felt like a lifetime. He could not let his emotions get the better of him.

When he got within a few feet of Gwangju, one of the bodyguards behind him held up a warning hand. Chen stopped and bowed a respectful forty-five degrees, holding the bow for several seconds longer than he usually would. Beside him, Kris went right down to his knees and kowtowed, forehead nearly touching the polished wooden floor. 

"You may rise, Kris," Gwangju said. His voice was deep and gravelly, and something about it made every nerve in Chen's body scream. He straightened up as Kris stood. Gwangju was looking at his returned guard approvingly. "I hear you were in custody for five days and never said a word. Your loyalty will be rewarded."

Kris bowed again, still not speaking, and at a gesture from Gwangju went to stand in place beside the two bodyguards behind Gwangju's chair. Gwangju's attention then turned to Chen. Chen felt everything around him go sharp, acute, the way it did when he was going into a fight. He stood poised, aware of everything.

"We finally meet, Chen," Gwangju said after a moment spent scrutinizing him from head to toe. "The man who even Suho couldn't take down. I've heard a lot about you."

Chen bowed slightly. He was acutely aware of his K5 in his pocket. When his chance arose, he mustn't hesitate. 

"My associate sent you to me with high praise," Gwangju continued. "You are willing to work for me?"

"Suho is dead," Chen said. "I can take his place. My people in Seoul know all the distribution lines. I can re-establish supply lines, get the trade flowing again." He took a calculated step forward. He needed to be closer. The