By the time Xiumin left the cathedral well into the afternoon, he had cried everything out of his system.  He still felt empty, but regardless of what the priest had said about confessing before committing something not being truly penitent if you then went on to carry it out, it was like a little weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and the claws of guilt gripping at his stomach felt like they’d been blunted.

They still didn’t stop him from dropping by the hospitals that Junhong and Tao were in on the way home, though.  He didn’t dare go into Tao’s ward for fear of the boy’s reaction, particularly if Semi had spoken to him about the previous night.  Tao was bound to have asked questions about the criminal husband and the fake marriage, and Xiumin would have been very surprised if she didn’t bring up their argument.  He did, however, stick around long enough to ascertain that Tao looked set to recover well and that he was already complaining about being on too many painkillers and wanting to lower the dosage.

Junhong’s condition was not nearly so good.  He had second and third degree burns on the side of his face from when the gun had exploded in Seungri’s hand – Xiumin was pretty surprised that Seungri hadn’t brought that up as breach of the Code, because if Junhong had been injured, Seungri’s hand couldn’t be in brilliant condition either – and he had a phenomenal amount of other injuries that appeared to have been inflicted on him either before or shortly after Jongin had reached the boy and been shot himself.  They’d nearly lost Junhong twice in surgery even after a blood transfusion and the first night had been almost as hairy.  The surgeon who’d operated on him told Xiumin that he’d done all he could, and that everything now relied on Junhong, though once he’d stabilised, things had started looking up.

“We had to put him into a coma to stabilise him,” the surgeon added, “but it looks like we might be able to bring him out of that pretty soon.  We’re going to try to wake him up on Wednesday.”

Xiumin nodded, looking down at the unconscious boy on the hospital bed.  His only real memory of him was Junhong and Semi cowering into the side of a snow-covered alley while he had dealt with the people chasing them.  He was still shocked that Junhong had been reckless enough to try defying Seungri for somebody that he barely even knew.

He arrived back at the apartment before he had even realised it, and he spent time staring blankly through the glass doors into the foyer.  He had become so accustomed to living there that he was really going to miss it.

But before he could let that get to him, Taeyong and his mother appeared out of nowhere, apparently done with delivering invitations, and Taeyong accosted him again about joining them at the party.

“You can bring all your friends?” he suggested hopefully, as if that would make a difference.

“I-I really don’t think…” Xiumin began as Mrs Kang apologised and tried to tell Taeyong off for harassing him.

“Hyung, do you not have any friends?” Taeyong asked suspiciously.  “Is that why you don’t want to come?  Because you can still come without your friends.”

“It’s not that—”

“Isn’t Semi Noona your friend, though?” Taeyong persisted.  “You only need to bring one friend.”

As Mrs Kang hustled Taeyong away into a different life, Xiumin tried to banish the image of Luhan laughing happily with the child.  With a sigh, he turned away from the apartment doors.  He was calm now; he had made his decision even though it hurt him horribly to do so; it was time to follow through.

Luhan did not seem surprised to hear from him again.

“Are you okay now?” he asked.  “You were quite distressed when you rang last.”

“Yeah.”  Xiumin exhaled loudly.  “I can’t do this anymore.  Give me time to say goodbye and then… whatever you think’s best.  I can’t bring myself to care because it hurts too much.  I’m not even capable of crying right now.”

“You were never a cry baby, though,” Luhan pointed out.  “But Xiumin… are you sure?  Is this really what you want?”

Xiumin pursed his lips so that he wouldn’t bite them again.  He had a feeling that chewing on his bottom lip once more would draw blood.  “I knew I’d have to make a choice eventually.  It’s just….”

“Just what?”  Luhan sounded sympathetic.

“Just… let me bring her to you, okay?  Don’t let Seungri do anything funny this week.  And I don’t want to know what you do with her.”  It was difficult getting the words out.

“You never know,” Luhan said, as though trying to reassure him, “she might re-evaluate when we meet.”

“Then we deal with it then.”  Xiumin felt drained.  “This is going to require organisation, though.  There were cameras down in the carpark where I last spoke to Semi, so they’re probably somewhat aware of what’s going on whether or not Semi’s said anything and they’re going to be on guard.  They would be anyway because I’m your blood brother and they’re going to be focussing on your case now.  They’re probably going to expect me to try to make some kind of move.”

“And you need cover to get away,” Luhan agreed.

“I’ve already got an idea for that.”  Xiumin fiddled with the zip for his