"Did you really have to do that, Jongdae-ssi?"

Jongdae looks up from the ashes before him, the smell of burning making him feel so, so satisfied. Jongdae throws a forcefully sweet smile over his shoulder, because he is so not in the mood for Zhang Yixing and his self righteous lectures. "They wouldn't have listened otherwise." Jongdae says, through gritted teeth. He blinks and adds a mocking "Hyung." for good measure.

Yixing just smiles, his dimple making an unwanted appearance, and Jongdae has the sudden urge to electrocute something. Then Yixing sighs and he looks so, so old that Jongdae is strangely reminded of Joonmyun. "I've always thought you'd be better at this." Yixing gestures around them, "At controling yourself."

Jongdae rolls his eyes, he can't help it. "They want to kill us, hyung."

Then Yixing turns so, so serious and disappointed and Jongdae wants to tell himself that it doesn't affect him, but his heart still twists a little. "They're just following orders."

"So are we." Jongdae points out, determined to maintain eye contact with Yixing. He will not be the first one to look away.

"I know." Yixing murmurs and Jongdae doesn't miss the bitter look in his eyes. Jongdae has always been the observant type and sometimes he really, really hates it. "But there's never any excuse for murder."

"Self defense." Jongdae corrects, instantly. There's a long moment of silence where they just stare at each other, the tension between them almost suffocating.

"I miss the old Jongdae." Yixing whispers, almost inaudibly, as if he doesn't want Jongdae to hear him.

But Jongdae still knows Yixing, he knows that everything Yixing does and says is well thought out. Everything Yixing does is done with purpose, with a goal. Jongdae knows that Yixing meant for Jongdae to hear those words. Jongdae momentarily wonders if Yixing knows that late at night, as Jongdae stares up at the ceiling and listens to Baekhyun's steady breathing from the bed beside him, Jongdae misses the old Jongdae, too.

Jongdae watches as Yixing turns on his heels and suddenly the ashes around him don't seem quite as satisfying anymore.