Sometimes I have a really good memory. It just depends on how important the certain event is to me. That particular winter ate up my whole. I am still numb from it.

They say winter is coldest season of all seasons. When the cold sweeps in, those alive and well go under cover for warmth. That winter, I couldn’t find the warmth to hide behind, so I bared the cold.

Even so, even when I found the warmth…I couldn’t hide behind it.

This is the longest memory I have.

The heat of the fire was quietly crackling from his right; its flames distorting the room with its shadowy images. Every time it climbed up the walls they looked like the monsters in his dreams long ago.

Eased breathing wept beside him coming in and out, in and out so calmly. Xiumin turned to look at her sleeping away soundly. They were lying together in a bed in a hotel he was staying at. Yesterday night was still clear in his memory. The torture from having looked at her had ripped him up inside. It’d only been a few hours ago, but he could still feel heated lips hovering over his chest and his heart raced.  

It was perhaps late into the night. Much too late already.  

A motorcycle zoomed by outside the window before death silenced in again and he couldn’t hear a thing, but her breathing. The soft of her skin brushed his as she shifted, made some noise, and continued sleeping.

She was like a lost child, nothing mattered to her. There was no sincerity left inside her heart as if all that made her up were packages of ice.  

Xiumin was jealous. He wanted to be sleeping well too, but there were too many things running through his head. Things like this shouldn’t have happened. This night should have belonged to his best friend; the person who was no longer alive. Things like she shouldn’t be out here like this. Things like his job. Things like his responsibility to fulfill his dead friend’s wish and return her home. Things like that crisscrossed through his mind splurging him with sick oncoming anxiety and worry.

Kim Namjoo completed their trio. She was their light, the glue to the group, the sunshine, and the one that kept them going. But one day she suddenly left home.

Xiumin was always jealous of her. His parents were divorced, but Namjoo’s father was a pastor; her mother a Sunday school teacher. She had the ideals in society he didn’t have, but she never seemed proud of it.

Xiumin knew Daeho always liked her. From the first time they met Xiumin knew. He probably still loved her up in the high heavens and had probably seen everything. Daeho probably knew everything he was thinking. Xiuimin lay there sunk in guilt and listened to the fire continue to cackle.

Namjoo shifted again beside him and he felt her head touch his shoulder.

During the first snow fall when he just received news of his probation the call came. Daeho, who had been suffering a severe case of lung cancer, was now dead.

Jang Daeho, his best friend, had always been a good kid. A clean record consisted of his neat biography; he was a church boy, a good worker, helped the homeless, and gave food to strays. The nicest of the nicest was his best friend. Daeho never swerved off track until the day Namjoo destroyed the trio. Being a bum was his career, smoking every single minute of the day had been his choice. Destroying and abusing himself had been a long term goal and he was only meant to die that way.

During the years Daeho spent searching for Namjoo; Xiumin busied himself for a set future. A well off future was his goal. Something different from his parents’ lives was what he aimed for. Not poverty, not a life drowned in love and love again. Xiumin wanted different, so he became a cop and the only one of the two who moved on.  

Kim Namjoo was now in Daegu, was someone who helped smuggle in innocent young girls to sleep with older men, who stayed at the brothel for free without price. That was his and Daeho’s Kim Namjoo. There was no mistake.

At Daeho’s funeral service his mother, crying breathlessly, had handed him a letter and some pictures. Daeho had taken them on his trip around Korea, she’d said, and had wanted him to have them. These things were…the last gift from the friend who remained a duo with him, who took up position in the trio, but would no longer make up the duo or trio.

Xiumin would be a solo until he found Namjoo.

He didn’t believe in it; that Namjoo was still in Korea, alive and well even when Daeho had snapped a picture of someone who resembled the young missing friend. He wanted to ignore Daeho’s last favor, but Daeho had never once asked him of anything. Lounging in his home without news of an assignment for a week he finally headed down to Daegu.  

In winter the days are the shortest and nights the longest. The liveliness that Xiumin thought was still there had actually melted long ago. When in Daegu, after scouting the streets for days in the cold, he discovered not even one-percent of him believed Daeho at all. The Xiumin who used to be giving and carefree wasn’t him anymore. He just wanted a well-paid job and to be on his own.

Everything was a burden.

On his last day in the city he spent the last hours of the gloomy day outside in the cold with a cup of coffee in hand. The snow was falling, its flakes thick and pure white covering the city in a sheet of white. They glittered underneath the mournful sun looking like a thousand sunsets.

Pausing in the middle of the district Xiumin lined up beside some passengers in wait for the bus. Jumping from feet to feet would keep him warm and moving, so he did just that. The cup of hot coffee in his hand was now cooling off which meant he’d need to get another cup before scouting around again.

The thought of his bed at home made his heart fluffy and warm. After this week it would be less than two months before his probation ended and he’d become a full-time cop. Till that day he just had to continue lounging around.

“You’re looking for an easy job, aren’t you? You can make lots of money from this,” a voice broke into his thoughts.

“Are you sure? This sounds like a scam.”

“No, not at all! Believe me, I would never lie to you,” the woman convinced. “My boss is looking for immediate recruitment. Why don’t you come meet him?”

Xiumin turned away from the women determined to mind his own business, but something about it was pricking his mind. When the two women started to turn away Xiumin twisted around. There was a woman with short hair in the shade of a very light brown color and another woman with longer hair that swept over her shoulders like a curtain.

Tilting his head to the side gave him a better view of the two and when their faces went out of his view did he feel his pulse accelerate. The short haired woman had been the one caught in Daeho’s photo.

Namjoo?

With eyes widening in quick surprise he chased after her.

“Excuse me! Excuse me!” Xiumin shouted, but neither of them turned around.

He watched the short haired woman put an arm around the other woman’s shoulders to prevent her from looking away as they talked on.

His mouth opened and Xiumin almost hesitated before calling out the name he hadn’t done in so many years.        

“Namjoo!”

Xiumin was right.

The short haired woman stopped in her steps before turning around to look at him. Her eyes had a sharp piercing gaze the Namjoo he knew never had. Darting her eyes up and over him she turned away, pushing the woman beside her.

Doubt filled him when she started to walk away, but he felt like he wasn’t wrong. Something about the way she looked gave him the vibe that Daeho was right after all. This was her, this was their missing friend.

Should he let it go? Or should he keep going after her?

Irritated with how he had to debate he quickened his steps to hurry after them.

“Excuse me,” he darted in front of them to bring her to a halt and searched her face again.

Yes, this was her. This was the friend who ran from home.

Too surprised, Xiumin was unable to speak. His lower lip fell, but no words came.

She narrowed her eyes at him and stepped to the side, pushing the younger woman along with her. Quick to block her Xiumin moved in front of her.

“What are you doing?” She demanded; her tone stiff and impatient.

“Me, you don’t recognize me?”

She had to. He hadn’t changed much except for some of the weight he’d lost while working out, but he was still practically the same in looks.

The younger woman turned to watch Namjoo run her eyes over him, “You’re not that eye catching. Go hit on someone else, loser.”

Slightly shoving him away Namjoo walked away with the woman leaving him to stare after them.

Infiltrated by unexpected shock he stared after her. The Namjoo he knew could never say something rude like that. Being the observer he was he could tell something about her was quite in a hurry.

What was going on?

Irked, he followed.

Blocked by oncoming traffic after they’d already crossed the street Xiumin waited for the signal to cross. By the time he was across the road Namjoo and the girl had disappeared into one of those buildings used as hostels and businesses. The building was a stale yellow with cracked walls and glass doors that had been continuously smudged over time until it could no longer be shiny.

Xiumin thought to follow, but hesitated. He didn’t feel very positive about this. On the other hand, did it matter to him?

Turning around he finally felt the cold chill his bones before hurrying back to the bus stop.

That evening he sat on the bed staring into the little fireplace in his room.

Please find her. Bring her home. I just want her safe. I’ll trust in you.

Tossing himself back onto the bed Xiumin stared up at the ceiling. He really wanted his familiar bed instead of one in a strange place like this. The bigger part of him didn’t want to worry about someone who said she didn’t know him. If Namjoo was like that it only meant she didn’t want him back into her life.

She’d left them first, why should he follow her now? Why had she left home? The perfect sanctuary Xiumin envied so much?

Pulling the blanket over him he burrito wrapped himself and dug his face into the fat pillow.

Early the next morning when the sky was still gloomy and gray Xiumin was lounging around the streets. He’d gone back to the building Namjoo had disappeared into. Pacing back and forth with his third cup of coffee in hand he told himself that he wouldn’t leave until he saw her again.

Things needed to be straightened out, he thought, and he’d do just that before he left. If Namjoo didn’t want to come back with him, he’d leave her.

That had been the plan that had backfired on him so badly.

Even when he kept watch till his fingers went numb not a single soul left the building, which deeply puzzled him. Finally grabbing a passerby Xiumin started his investigation.

“Excuse me, but can I ask if anyone lives in that building?” Xiumin asked.

The young woman furiously shook her head and walked away after pulling away from him. Left alone and freezing Xiumin jumped from foot to foot again before blowing at his hands. He’d forgotten how hard it was to keep warm. If it weren’t for Namjoo he would have gone home by now. His breath seemed to become solid particles in midair before dissipating at the speed of light.

Catching sight of a man heading his way Xiumin thought to try again.

“Excuse me,” he jumped in front of him, “that building over there, do you know if anyone lives there?”

The man turned to look at the stale yellow building under the now white sky, “You’re not planning to go there, are you? I’m telling you, just stay away from that place. It’s under police investigation right now.”

One of his brows twitched, “Investigation? Why? What is that place? It’s not a hostel?”

“Hostel?” The man repeated shocked. “Are you kidding me?” Stepping back the man observed Xiumin, “You’re not from around here, are you?” Then stepping closer whispered, “I heard they opened up an illegal ion site inside there. There was a report that a 15 year old girl was inside for seven hundred dollars.”

The man moved away and shook his head mumbling some dirty words before walking off. Still clutching tightly onto the cup of coffee Xiumin stared hard at the building.

Illegal? What would Namjoo be doing in a place like that?

It didn’t make sense. Namjoo was a good church goer. Her parents were religious, this was sinful…she wouldn’t do anything like that, but what if…what if she was in some kind of trouble?

Worried Xiumin looked around before crossing the street, his face streaked in red from withstanding the cold. At this point he could barely feel his nose. He was cold, but couldn’t find it in himself to leave just yet.

A gut of an alleyway separated the stale building from the one beside it. Making his way through it Xiumin discovered that at the back was a dumpster stuffed with smelly garbage and rotting food. Plugging his nose he squeezed his way around it before sighting a window on the other side.

Feeling hopeful that he might discover something he slowly edged around the dumpster, first poking his head around it. Through the window he saw two figures talking furiously about something.

It was a man and a woman.

What was going on?

Xiumin edged further around the dumpster watching as the man suddenly grabbed the woman, forcing himself onto her. His brows knitted themselves together very tightly before he suddenly recognized the woman inside. Without thinking he zipped out from his hiding place to try and pounce against the window, but instead ended up hurting his shoulder.

The man inside froze before turning to look out the window, but Xiumin had slunk to the ground just in time.

“Who’s there!?” The man shouted as he started to the window.

Crawling his way around the garbage Xiumin shot to his feet once he was around it. Namjoo needed his help, he thought.

What was she doing in a place like that!?

Almost sliding and tripping in the snow Xiumin caught the handle of the door just in time before he stared down the hallway that smelled like old cigarettes. Quickly mapping out the room in his mind from the back of the building he hurried forward opening door to door only to discover majority of them were well locked.

It wasn’t until he was around a corner and down the hall did he hear a frantic male voice shouting upset at the interruption. Upon the opening of a door and loud footsteps which quickly faded out another door Xiumin made his way toward the earlier noise. The door was just about closing when he made it. Running forward he pushed his weight against it and heard a surprise shout. When the person behind the door fell back Xiumin threw the door open and walked in.

Namjoo stared at him with wide eyes, but said nothing. From the shock in her eyes he knew well that she recognized him; whether as her old friend Xiumin or the man from yesterday didn’t matter. All that counted was the hint of recognition there.

Without further wait he stepped forward to grab her hand to drag her out.

“What the heck are you doing!?” Namjoo screamed fighting to pull back. “Let go right now!”

“What are you doing here!?” Xiumin shouted. “I’m taking you back home. You shouldn’t be here.”

At the mention of ‘home’ Namjoo roughly pulled back as if frantic about something. Pain scorched her hand from how tightly he’d held onto her. She barely tripped backward, but caught herself and glared at him.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” her eyes went sternly wide in warning. “Just leave.”

She started to turn away, but Xiumin grabbed her arm, “What are you doing here!? This place is illegal! Don’t you know what he tried doing to you!?”

Roughly tugging out of his hold she shifted to stand face-to-face, “I do it all the time here. Why? You want to buy me for a night?”

His hand immediately formed into a tight fist. How could she talk like that? How could she say those words that degraded her worth so easily like that? What was wrong with her!? How could she do this to herself?

Gullible Xiumin clenched his teeth. With just a glare Namjoo turned to walk away, but as horrible as his conscience was he couldn’t leave. He had to take her back. Daeho wanted her back home and Xiumin had to do that for him.  

“Namjoo,” he called out.

If he told Namjoo his identity she might just listen to him. Xiumin still believed that some part of her had missed them, and she’d listen.

“It’s me, Xiumin. Come back with me. Lets go see Daeho.”

But Namjoo didn’t hesitate, not one bit. Ignoring him out rightly she strutted down the hall back to the room leaving him there to stare after her.

After that incident he was even more determined to make her go back with him. He wasn’t just about to leave his best friend with some dangerous men like that. He wouldn’t be human if he did.

Xiumin stalked the building everyday being careful to remain out of sight. He saw Namjoo wheeling with her random women and young girls on several occasions. What happened inside…he didn’t want to imagine.

In the middle of the night he’d follow her to watch her drink alone, but nothing really happened until he slept in one morning only to arrive on watch too late. When he arrived on site three police cars had blocked off the road, barricading the area with yellow tape. Spectators had surrounded the cars, but no one was allowed near it.

From what Xiumin understood after minutes of observance was they were infiltrating the building in search of something or maybe someone. He didn’t know what was going on, which left him dramatically concerned.

What if Namjoo was in danger?

Then out of the corner of his eye he spotted something dark like a shadow making a skillful escape out of the alley, just behind the cars. The figure camouflaged itself into the crowd before suddenly starting down the street freely since no incoming traffic was coming.

His jaw dropped and he glanced toward the stale building before quickly following. It looked like a woman, but he wasn’t totally sure. His steps started off slowly before gradually picking up pace. As if catching sight of him she quickened her speed forcing him to run even faster.

A sudden commotion rose up behind him before he heard sudden screaming from the police officers. The pounding of footsteps against the concrete seemed to make the ground shake heavily. Confusion rammed against Xiumin when something else shot out from out of the blue before tackling Namjoo to the ground.

Skidding to a stop his sight zeroed in on the woman to confirm that she really was Namjoo. The snow underneath his feet splashed up as he watched them wrestle.

Xiumin didn’t recognize this man. He definitely didn’t have the figure as the man who had forced himself onto Namjoo the other day. His arms were of big build and his shoulders bulged out due to the excess growth of muscles.

The man was trying to kill her, Xiumin realized, after making a grab for .

“Get off her!” Screaming he searched his pocket with his numb hand.

His coordination skills seemed to have disoriented from the freezing cold, but he felt the gun he brought everywhere with him. It was hidden deep inside his coat in a secret pocket he’d sewn on himself. He’d been mighty proud of it. The stores didn’t sell coats with inside pockets, well not any good ones he could use so he’d made his own.

Pulling it out Xiumin fought to aim for the man.

“I said get off her!” Xiumin repeated his order loud and clear, but the man didn’t seem to hear him. “I’m warning you!”

His hand was a little shaky, but his chapped lip he thought he didn’t have much choice. There was fear sharpening his insides and he became uncertain about what to do. Then suddenly Namjoo bolted up from the ground to make a run from the man, who quickly followed.

Seizing his chance with his target clear in front of him Xiumin pulled the trigger; not to kill him, but to scare him. Usually, criminals themselves didn’t want to die. They’d cower after the shot of a gun since it was so powerfully loud that it created scare. And it worked most of the time.

That was the method Xiumin sought to use, but it backfired.

Xiumin had pulled the trigger and everything just seemed to happen at the speed of light; the man hurling forward to grab hold of Namjoo but tripping himself instead. In the blink of an eye his friend’s body tumbled forward, becoming limp in another blink of the eye before landing against the ground.

All in that instant Xiumin only heard the gun ringing in his ear, deafening the whole city into silence as everyone held their breaths.

He shot her.

A month ago….that happened a month ago. The wound he had penetrated into her had slowly closed up, but the mark left behind would never fade. On Namjoo’s precious body, even kisses wouldn’t soothe the scar. Never would he be able to break the cold inside her.  

Convincing her to return with him had been all, but a dream. Manipulating her in the process did no good. Namjoo was there in bodily presence, here and there whenever and doing whatever as she pleased but she’d never fall; never over her head and never over her heels, not for him; not for anyone.

Xiumin still hadn’t told her of Daeho’s passing. Once she got into the car with him back to Seoul, once he got her to, he would.

Xiumin would tell her everything then.

When he woke up the next morning Namjoo wasn’t in her spot beside him. It was cold and barren as if her bodily warmth had never slept with him at all.

Rising up to sit he glanced down at the floor where they’d messily tossed their clothes in the moment of heat to see that only his still lay in a bundle.

“Namjoo?” He called out.

No reply.

Namjoo was gone.              

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***Something did happen, there's a reason why she left home; that's why she panicked when he mentioned 'home'.

***Well I'm not about to turn this into a story nor a short story, cause you know what will happen if I do. If it becomes a story it either becoems unfinished or too long or left hanging on hiatus. If it becomes a short story...well...it's gonna be long anyway. You know what I'll do? I think I'll just write up part by part with oneshots. It totally makes things easier for me.

***Plus, I'm already stressed as it is and it's only the first week of classes. My future is like shaky right now. Anyway, better head off to bed since I'm really tired. Thanks for subscribing. Look out for new oneshots! 

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