Seunghyun was left feeling a discomforting mixture of relief, appeasement, frustration and anger. Too much conversation – and nothing seems related on his brother. Finally, he snapped.

"Why are you even telling us all of this?" He demanded, angrily. "How does this help us find Seungri?"

He glanced towards his father, expecting a reprimand for his outburst – but Hyunsuk's face was grim and he looked as though he was equally eager to learn the answers to those questions.

The next moment he knew that his suspicions were justified as the two agents exchanged a glance.

"What is going on?" Hyunsuk asked, his voice hard and unmistakably dangerous.

One agent answered: "We know Arashi's M.O. (modus operadi) and, if he sticks to it, then your son will be released." He spoke with clear reluctance. "He'll be our best shot at getting both Arashi and his partner."

Hyunsuk's previously stony features turned to granite. "You know Arashi's M.O. You know what he does to his victims." As he spoke, he slowly rise from his chair; leaning on his knuckles over the desk. "You know what he'll do to my son."

"He doesn't kill…" another agent valiantly tried to intervene.

"I have no intention of leaving my son in that madman's hands for one more day. Do you understand me?" Hyunsuk's anger was now at full steam and he made no attempt to rein it in. "You will help me find him, or you will leave my house. Is that clear?"

"I'll tell you what's clear, Mr. Yang," the second agent retorted, his own ire rising. "If you, in any way, impede this investigation…"

"I'm not impeding anything," Hyunsuk interrupted, clearly unphased by the threat. He'd been threatened before – and by better men than this agents. "My files are right there." He jerked his head towards the filing cabinet. "Knock yourself out."

"Dad…" Seunghyun tried to get a word in edgeways. It wasn't helping Seungri to be fighting amongst themselves – even if he did agree with everything his father was saying.

But, by this time, Hyunsuk was beyond hearing.

"If you don't want to help me," the PI continued – his words aimed at two agents. "Then when – when – I find my son, you won't get near him. Not for a long, long time."

Seungri hated the 'interrogation room' – as he had come to think of it. He hated it more than he hated his cell.

Admittedly, in his cell were the blinding lights and incessant noise; but that noise was formless. The words it contained were random and impersonal.

In this other room, with Arashi in his face, they were very, very personal.

"They locked me up." Arashi launched into him the moment he was back in the chair – and the accusations never changed. "I never killed anyone and they locked me up."

He circled behind where Seungri sat and then leant forwards, putting his lips right up against Seungri’s ear: "You killed your mom and what did they do to you?"

Breathing heavily, Seungri blinked back tears. He tried to hold on to the slowly fading memory of his brother's words: "It was an accident."

"What did they do to you?" Arashi asked the question; but then his partner provided an answer: "Patted you on the hand and sent you on your way," the thug sneered. "Hardly seems like justice to me."

"There will be justice." Arashi snarled. "Real justice. Every killer gets that –no matter how long it takes."

"I'm not…" Seungri could barely force the words past the tightness in his throat. Confusion was taking free rein and, because he had no clear memory of the crash, he didn't know whose voice to believe any more.

"Not what? Not a killer?" His captor leapt on his feeble words. "Yes you are, or else your mom would still be alive."

"No…" His answer was little more than a low moan.

"Then tell me why she's dead."

Seungri didn't – couldn't – answer that.

A short time later, he was taken back to his cell.

The doorbell ringing interrupted the tense atmosphere that had suddenly descended over Hyunsuk's office. All heads turned towards the source of the sound – a conveniently rigged extension for when the rest of the house was empty – but nobody immediately moved.

Seunghyun, for a brief and innocent instant, considered merely ignoring it. The half-formed thought that his mom would get it flitted across his mind. Then painfully familiar – and yet all too recent – agony stabbed through him. He'd taken his mother for granted in so many ways; there were going to be these constant reminders that she was gone for a long time to come.

Feeling tears sting at his eyes and not wanting to cry in front of the special agents, he rapidly got to his feet. He didn't bother to excuse himself – he didn't quite trust his voice at that moment.

As soon as he was out of the office, he managed to draw in a deep and steadying breath. It somehow helped – as though the air in the office had been cloying and suffocating.It made his escape feel almost welcome.

Then the doorbell rang again – louder now that he was back in the main house – and he hastened to answer it. He grimaced as he recognised the figure standing on the doorstep. The normally formidable looking woman seemed somehow smaller than the last time he had seen her, just a few short months ago.

As he disabled the alarm system, he glanced back over his shoulder. As he'd known he would, he saw the door of the corridor leading to the office ajar and his father standing there watching him. His stance, even in silhouette, clearly showed that he had his hand on his gun.

Seunghyun offered a half-smile: "It's Aunt Ga-in," he explained.

If anything, Hyunsuk's stance tensed even further; then he turned abruptly and headed back into the office.

Seunghyun felt more than a little irritated; Aunt Ga-in was his father's sister, after all. Couldn't he have at least stayed long enough to say hello?

And then he opened the door and was captured by his Aunt's embrace. Even as she clung to him, he felt her tears soaking his sweater. Though his aunt seemed stern at times – and had her own somewhat brash opinion of how both he and Seungri should be raised – she did love her family; his mother included. And no difference of opinions in the past was ever going to change that.

Yang Ga-in was as devastated as the rest of them – and she didn't yet know of Seungri's abduction.

Seungri had no way of knowing that his Aunt Ga-in had arrived at the family home; he had no idea of anything that was happening within his family. He didn't know that the cops were putting in so many hours of their own time, in an effort to find him. He certainly didn't know that the special agents had now got involved.

All he knew was that Arashi had found a new spin on his torture.

After being returned to his cell, he had found himself immersed in silence and darkness. But he didn't dare relax. He didn't even dare lie down; knowing that, the moment he did, the lights or the noise – or both – would return to assail him again.

Seconds passed – and then minutes. Seungri looked upwards into the absolute darkness and dared to hope. He still didn't dare to lie down, but instead slumped back against the wall and let his eyes drift shut. The darkness didn't change but, in spite of the torment raging through him, he tried to believe that exhaustion would win out. Sleep would finally take him and maybe it would silence the voices.

Maybe it would also invoke nightmares, but he was too damned tired to care about that. All he cared about was rest.

Then lights shone and noise blared and he was jerked cruelly back into wakefulness.

His resistance was almost completely gone. Seungri would never think of himself as being broken; wouldn't even consider that he was weak – but he was reaching the end of his endurance. Even he had to admit that.

Clamping his hands as firmly as he could over his ears, Seungri lay down onto his stomach and buried his face into the pillow. It didn't matter that he could barely even breathe, or that the stale smell from the bed left him wanting to gag. He craved peace and darkness.

As if his desperate prayer was heard and then answered, Seungri suddenly got both. Turning his face away from the pillow, he gasped in clean air even as his body convulsed into a sob.

He rubbed one hand over his eyes and tried to force himself to relax; to take this moment of respite and give in to his body's need to sleep. He lay on his side – his body comfortable in a parody of the first-aid 'recovery position' and gradually his breathing evened out.

And then the noise and the light came back with a suddenness that had him jumping clear off the bed. Sitting back down, he hugged his arms around his mid and tried not to give in to the urge to beg.

Then it stopped again and, after a few seconds of fearful anticipation had passed, Seungri lay back down again.

And then it started up again. He didn't know why he had even dared to hope.

With no way to track the passage of time – and not having the wherewithal to try and count seconds and minutes – Seungri had no way of knowing how long this went on for. It was indeterminable and it felt, to Seungri's tortured mind, that the gaps were getting longer and longer.

Each period of silence long enough to allow him to hope that he might sleep; each blast of noise brief enough to kill that hope.

Sudden darkness and silence; sudden brightness and noise.

Seungri thought that he was going insane.

TBC...

---thank you for all of ur supportive comments...pls enjoy readingXD

---until we meet again...