After Jae Sang’s exit from the car, SeungHyun wasted no time in squeezing between the two front seats and easing himself into the driver's seat, in order to be closer to his dad.

His own thoughts were only with Seungri. Though grief still hovered at the back of his mind, his fear for Seungri had completely overshadowed it. He knew something of what Arashi had done; knew totally what he was capable of. And, though they had yet to find any solid proof, he knew that he had taken Seungri.

"Dad…" He didn't know what to say, but he had to try.

"I'm sorry, but…" Hyunsuk looked up then and stared bleakly towards their house. "It's all going to be the same."

"Dad?" SeungHyun floundered – not knowing what his father was trying to say.

"It will all look the same as it did yesterday." Hyunsuk’s eyes misted over, but they remained firmly fixed on their front door. "Everything will be the same, as though nothing even happened. The lounge, the kitchen, the bedroom… It will be the same as it was before… And I can't walk into that. I can't…"

SeungHyun sighed and looked away. He understood. His mom and Seungri had gone shopping; a few short hours later, he and his dad had raced to the hospital. But the house… the house was exactly the same as it had been when everything was normal. Before their entire world had crashed down around them.

But if Seungri’s kidnapper was going to get in touch with them, then he would do it through their telephone. They needed to be in the house to take that call.

Somehow, Seungri found himself back in his cell. No further words had been spoken. Seungri was too stunned and disbelieving to barely form a coherent thought – and his captors had clearly got their message across.

His hands had been released, but he had no memory of the cuffs being removed. He was still reeling from what he had heard and could only sit on the bunk, staring numbly at the floor.

Slowly, fragmented thoughts began to break through the haze of shock that enshrouded him: What did they know? How could they know? Wasn't his mom's death an accident?

What about dad?

Seungri tried to push that thought away but it was too late to un-think it. Once it was in his head, he simply couldn't shake it – or the confusion of memories it brought with it. His father had been so angry. Even the way he had spoken his name had been distant and alien – almost an unspoken accusation.

Dropping his head into his hands, Seungri tried to remember more clearly but his head was aching fiercely. Yang Seungri. It was the only thing that stood out with any clarity in his mind. When his dad used his full name, it usually meant that he was in trouble.

But this time… This time, it was cold and interrogatory. Condemnatory. At least, that was how his tortured and confused mind was remembering it.

Seungri collapsed back onto the bunk, using one arm to shield his eyes from the glaring lights that continued to assail him. Every ache and pain was making itself known to him and exhaustion rushed up to add to his misery.

Perhaps if he could just drift off to sleep, then maybe he would wake up and find the whole thing to be a terrible nightmare. He didn't believe it for a second, but he had to try something.

Sleep seemed an easy distraction.

Before he could even fully relax – could try to block out the voices constantly plaguing him – a deafening blast of noise split the silence of his cell. It wasn't music, it was just noise. Blaring, brutal, mind-piercing noise. And in amongst that noise, were some clearly defined words; screams amidst the cacophony: killer, death, murder.

Seungri tried to block his ears, but it was impossible. The unrelenting racket, the damning words never allowed him a moment of respite.

SeungHyun was beginning to fear that it was going to be an impossible task to get his father to enter their home. When he had tried to speak about the need to be by the telephone, should the kidnapper call, Hyunsuk had merely shaken his head tightly.

"Dad." SeungHyun had to keep trying. His brother's welfare – if not his life – might depend on it. "We don't know for sure who took Seungri." He didn't want to think about Arashi. He wanted to cling onto the slim hope that the timing of Seungri's abduction had been a massive coincidence. That way, he could also hold onto a slim hope for his brother's future.

"Arashi has him." Yang Hyunsuk still didn't raise his head and his tone never changed from one of utter defeat. "You know who he is. You know what he's done. There won't be any phone call."

SeungHyun bowed his own head. Yes, he did know Arashi. Though his crime was kidnapping, he never sent ransom demands; never wanted anything in return for his victims' release. His motive wasn't monetary, or political, or even – until now – driven by revenge. In fact, no clear motive had ever been identified – and it was impossible to understand how or why he chose his victims.

All they knew for certain was that those people were held for anything between two and four days. Then they were simply released. If Arashi stuck to his MO then Seungri would eventually be returned to them, but Seunghyun knew they could not afford to wait for that eventuality.

Arashi released them – but they came back broken.

As much as he didn't want to think about it, the knowledge came back to him anyway; everything that his father had told him and what he had learnt through his own research. And everything he remembered only served to chill him to his very core – and to increase the sense of urgency that was beginning to build in him.

Though Arashi had never actually killed anyone with his own hands, he did destroy lives. His lengthy sentence handed down by the courts had reflected his part in driving three people to suicide.

No, Arashi wasn't a killer but he was an insanely cruel man. He used mind games to take control; to toy with and manipulate his victims; to make them so desperate that the only escape they could see was to take their own lives.

And, if he had Seungri…

Seungri, who was already reeling emotionally and hurting physically, would prove to be the perfect prey for his twisted games.

He tried to push the thought away, but it had now taken full rein of his imagination and he was beginning to feel terrified for his brother – wherever he might be. He couldn't just sit on his hands, no matter how badly his dad might be hurting.

Focus on the living.His thought from the hospital came back to him – but now he had cause to add to it: And ensure they keep on living.

Seungri felt like he was going to die. His head had been aching before they had even begun this latest form of torture. Now it had degenerated into something beyond agony.

He gritted his teeth and pressed his palms against his ears. It didn't even seem to make a dent in the volume level.

Come on! He silently admonished himself. Doesn't hyung always say that you can sleep through anything? You know he's always right – not that you'd ever admit it to him!

But his attempted pep-talk did nothing other than to cause a new pain to sear through him – but this pain was purely emotional: he had briefly wondered as to what happened after he'd sent his brother after their father; but now Arashi was here and clearly unharmed. All Seungri could hope was that the felon had somehow eluded them.

He couldn't even contemplate the alternative: that there had been a confrontation and Arashi came out on top. Surely if that had been the case, then his captor's would have said something; would have gloated; would have used it to torment him even further. But they had only mentioned his mom.

In a cruel piece of timing, that thought coincided exactly with the word 'murder’ screaming at him from the speakers. The damning words contained within the racket came sporadically and randomly – but that particular one felt like a bullet to his heart.

Every other conscious thought was sent fleeing from his head, as he was forcibly reminded of the chilling and bitter truth: he had been driving the car…

Desperate for at least a little respite – from both the racket and his own convoluted thoughts – he tried wrapping the threadbare pillow around his head; clamping down on it tightly to keep it in place. He thought that maybe – maybe – the edge was taken off the raucousness. It wasn't enough.

The noise was still there; the words were still there. And so were his own recriminatory thoughts.

Tears sprung into his eyes and he was powerless to prevent them from spilling down his cheeks.

SeungHyun had enough. They were just wasting time sitting in the car – and it was time that Seungri didn't have.

"Alright, maybe it is Arashi," he conceded – knowing, in his heart, that that supposition was true. "So we have to start looking. And we're not going to find him by sitting here!"

Hyunsuk's only response was to stare desolately out of the window towards his front door – and another minute shake of his head.

"What, dad?" SeungHyun had to snap his dad out of it and he wasn't below using a dirty tactic. Somewhere a clock was ticking for his younger brother. "Are you grieving for him already? He isn't dead, dad! Seungri isn't dead yet and we have to help him! You know what Arashi will do and we have to stop that. I can't lose…"

"Don't say it!" At last that provoked a reaction. It was raw and emotional – but it was a reaction. It was the best SeungHyun could have hoped for.

"Dad, you have to help me." Tears filled SeungHyun's eyes as he unashamedly begged. He couldn't do this alone. "Help me find Seungri."

Hyunsuk squeezed his eyes briefly shut and then looked back out at the house again. "It's going to be so hard," he confessed quietly – and it was clear that they were no longer talking about Seungri. "It feels like she's going to be in there waiting for me."

"I know, dad." SeungHyun did understand.