GANGNAM-GU

FIVE YEARS EARLIER

Baekhyun all but fell inside the warehouse.

Hyunjin was beside him in the next second, grabbing and pulling down the shutter door with hasty movements using as much strength as his arms could lend to him. As soon as the door thudded against the floor with a metallic noise, he rushed to try the smaller doors inside for any other entry points. Normally, making sure they were safe would be Baekhyun's job, but he was a little more than incapacitated at the moment.

The informant gasped, scrabbling on the floor for purchase as he tried to get to his feet, but everything slipped under his bloody hands. His glasses were askew, spatters of red on the glass marring his vision, but Baekhyun blinked away the whiteness in his sight and tried to get up. He couldn't afford to be like this, not now. Not when they were almost at their destination.

His hand slipped on the floor again, and Baekhyun tumbled to the ground in a heap. He closed his eyes and let his head fall against the floor, feeling the cool surface of the ground against his hot forehead. It was dusty and dirty, bits of grit getting caught under his nails and against his cheek, but that was the last of his problems at the moment.

Instead of attempting to get up again, Baekhyun stayed on the floor for a few more moments, trying to get as much of a break as he could. The muscles in his abdomen and sides still hurt every time he breathed, but thankfully, nothing felt broken. There were going to be ugly bruises on his skin soon, but he could care less about those.

A pair of warm hands wrapped around his biceps, pulling him up. Baekhyun exhaled slowly, trying to put as less pressure on his chest muscles as possible, and let the boy try to raise him up for a few second before trying. With Hyunjin's help, he got to his feet, and took a few, staggering steps all the while leaning most of his weight against the boy, and collapsed against the wall.

Baekhyun's back slid down the wall, his spine feeling arched under his skin like a bridge. It hurt where it pressed against the wall, but the sharper ache on his body hurt more. The back of his head hit the wall, and he closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing, pulling his legs up and resting his arms on the knees. Hyunjin collapsed next to him, breathing hard, a sheen of sweat covering his anguished expression. For a long moment, the only sound in the hollow warehouse was that of their mingled breathing.

"What was that?" Hyunjin asked at last, something fearful and angry mixed in his voice.

"Just some people I have a history with," Baekhyun mumbled, swallowing against the dryness in his throat. Thankfully, his face was mostly injury-free, so it wouldn't draw the racers' attention too much. He knew he had to get cleaned up, but he could barely muster the strength to speak. "Bad blood. Nothing to do with you."

"Are you sure about that?" Hyunjin snapped, a bitter edge creeping into his voice. He rummaged around in the small backpack of supplies and pulled out a water bottle, which only had a few sips left. "Because every time we run into your buddies, it always has to do with me."

"Not this—"

"And how come we don't have any help, huh?" the boy barked, continuing on as if Baekhyun hadn't tried to speak. He looked livid—the goons hadn't gotten to him, which was because he'd been at home while Baekhyun was out for supplies. Apparently, they hadn't gotten to Hyunjin, because he seemed unharmed, but he had been the one to get Baekhyun out of the fix and it hadn't been easy. "Does anyone even know about you being here? With me?"

Baekhyun stayed quiet.

"Does my sister even know?" Hyunjin asked. He faced Baekhyun with a snarl, face taut with pain. "Or was that a lie?"

No answer.

"What, do you think I can't take it?" Hyunjin spoke bitterly. "That I'm some spoiled sheltered kid who can't handle the realities of life? Because that's not true. You don't know shit about me or what my life has been like, and you can't hide from me." He was breathing harder by the end of the sentence than at the beginning. "You owe me this one thing. Does she know about me?"

Baekhyun gritted his teeth, feeling the muscles of his jaw clench painfully. "No," he admittedly quietly.

Hyunjin got to his feet, and the place was silent again for a few more seconds. Then he spoke, "Could she have known? Could she have figured it out like you did?"

"...yes."

There was a loud crash as the bottle smashes against a wall, making Baekhyun flinch. He looked up at Hyunjin, who was standing with his fists clenched, his teeth bared in a snarl as he glared at the floor. The sleeves of his shirt had been rolled up, revealing the veins that stood out on his forearms like the blood pressure had suddenly gone up.

"Your sister has a lot on her plate right now," Baekhyun said, assuming the most placating tone he could manage. He shifted, which sent a bolt of pain up his side, making him wince. "The last thing she can do right now is look for a missing link."

But even as he said it, he understood the boy's anger. The fact that she was unable to look for him didn't help the knowledge that she could have. And for a boy with nothing left in his life, no one looking for him except a complete stranger and a group of killers, maybe the idea of family was the only thing left to keep him going.

And now Hyunjin didn't even have that.

"Hyunjin," Baekhyun started, then hesitated. He didn't usually use the boy's name until it was for an order or an urgent matter. It felt strange tasting it in his mouth, the empathy mixing with the blood and making it taste like metal. "You won't have to run much longer."

Hyunjin didn't relax, but his fists opened. He looked away for a second so Baekhyun couldn't see his face, then turned towards him. "What about you?" he asked lowly, then scoffed. "What are you running from?"

Baekhyun glanced away, mind working. Not a lot of people knew about his past, but the only ones who did held it over his head as blackmail material, waiting for him to slip up and commit the same mistake again. But Hyunjin... He's just a boy, his thoughts whispered. You were just a boy.

"I was a snitch," he began, one corner of his lips lifting slightly. "Back when I was a kid, just a runner for drugs and messages, the police offered me a deal: provide them intel, or serve jail time." He could still remember it vividly—the cold room like the inside of a meat locker, the sunny outdoors, the sharp-eyed officer who smoked three cigarettes during the conversation. "I chose the former, of course. I was just a kid. When I got back home that day, my parents were dead."

His voice had dropped to a murmur. Hyunjin was looking at him with a stony expression, but his eyes were bright.

"Anyway, they're still after me," Baekhyun murmured. "Those guys you just met? They would have killed me a long time ago, but I forged alliances so they couldn't hurt me." He shrugged a single shoulder, which made his muscles ache. "Now that I've broken them, I could die any moment. I would have died then, if you hadn't gotten there in time."

Hyunjin stared at him with an unreadable expression, then walked over and sat down next to him.

"Is that all the family I have?" he asked, voice sounding tinny. He had long ago declared that his father was dead to him, which Baekhyun hadn't opposed. "Her? Could someone else be looking for me, or is she the only sibling I have?"

For the first time, Baekhyun didn't know how to answer.

He could have told him the truth, he supposed, but Yeji could be long dead by now. Finding out that Baekhyun had given her away wouldn't help, either. Better to just let him believe there was no one.

"Yeah," he said quietly, so Hyunjin couldn't hear the words choking him. "Just the one."

──────

PRESENT TIME

Splitting up was almost always a bad idea, but Yeeun was used to going solo.

The past few years had helped, though, ever since she'd dropped the contract bit and just become a killer instead—a rightful one, almost. It wasn't even her fight to pick, but the Lee clan had become her mortal enemies, and she'd gotten by so far just fine.

They were in a neighborhood of closed factories and car plants, with a small section of warehouses where she had pinpointed the location of her dozen clan members. Seulgi, Jennie and Hwang had split away from the rest of them, and Jinyoung was on getaway duty, so it was just her, Taehyung, and the dysfunctional duo (as they'd collectively dubbed Vernon and Taeyong). Despite their problem, they were good at acting as a team, and though this was the biggest number they had ever tried going for, she was confident in their abilities.

Or had been, until it all went horribly wrong.

A single flash of movement ignited Taehyung's instincts, and a volley of gunshots was fired against the wall, of which none was embedded into a body. Yeeun threw herself against the back of a truck chassis for cover, ducking with a hiss and a curse as Taehyung got down beside her, Taeyong and Vernon taking cover behind another one.

"They weren't supposed to know we're here," Yeeun hissed. Taehyung tried to peek out the side, only to duck back in when another torrent of bullets was fired. "They can't know about us, because there can't be an informant, unless—"

"It's a fucking trap," Taehyung said. He faced her, eyebrows drawing together. "But how?"

"Hey, brother dear, are you out there?" called out a somewhat familiar voice from beyond, and Yeeun's expression went flat. Jimin. "Long time, no see!"

"Of course." Taehyung rolled his eyes, before calling back, "Let me come out and meet you! It's been so long since I saw your prissy little face!"

Yeeun pressed herself against the truck's back, tuning out their voices as she thought hard. Vernon and Taeyong were still against the opposing truck, and they were relatively closer to the side entrance to the warehouse. As long as their attackers' attention was on Taehyung, they could still slip away unnoticed.

A dozen, she thought almost dazedly. I can take out a dozen.

"Call Jinyoung," she muttered to Taehyung, who frowned but nodded. Then she turned to the opposing chassis, and waved her arm to get Taeyong's attention. He saw her almost instantly, alert eyes fixing onto hers. Go, she mouthed, and his brow furrowed. Go!

Taeyong turned to murmur the instructions to Vernon, whose lips thinned, but he nodded slowly. Yeeun jerked her chin in a single nod, knowing they would head straight for the girls instead, and watched them creep out of the back.

"Taehyung," she murmured, and the man turned towards her. "In a few seconds, we're going to sprint into the open, towards the opposite side, so Taeyong and Vernon can make a break for it unnoticed." Taehyung nodded. "On the count of three. One, two—"

Gunshots blasted all around them as they made a break towards the other side, but got behind the wall unharmed. Yeeun flattened herself against the wall, looking out of the side of the column in case someone was creeping up on them. "Okay, so here's the plan," she muttered. "There were supposed to be a dozen, but since there's an ambush there are probably more. We're going to wait for Jinyoung and circle back, maybe call for backup. There are five on the other side, so they have a higher chance of getting out—but there's no saying anything, because they're probably after her."

"Noted," Taehyung muttered, and she glanced at him. He was against the wall too, but there was a slight strain in his voice, and the fabric at his side seemed to shimmer when it caught the light—

Her vision went white. "Taehyung, you've been shot."

His eyes flicked to hers. "What?" he whispered, then glanced down, reading up to touch the cloth. His face paled slightly. "Ah, fuck."

Trembling only slightly, she pulled him down in a sitting posture, propping him up against the wall. "Put some pressure on it," she muttered, trying to keep the tremor out of her voice as she grabbed the cloth and pressed down on the wound. Taehyung sucked in his breath. "You can't go into shock. We'll just—we'll wait for backup, and—"

"Couldn't even shoot me from the front," Taehyung muttered, cupping the wound. The bullet hadn't exited his body, which was good, since they didn't have the time to stem the blood flow otherwise. "Fucking...pussy."

His breathing was becoming shallow. Yeeun's chest tightened in alarm, and she pressed harder against the wound, making him groan. His neck shone from the sweat of the pain. "Would you believe me if I said I'd never been shot before?" he asked, one corner of his lips twitching. His words were becoming slightly slurred. No, no, no, no.

"I would," she said, biting the words. "You look like you don't know the pain."

He laughed a slight, choking laugh, and fresh blood flowed from the wound. She felt the blood rush to her head, and leaned against the injury, trying to clear the buzzing in her head.

"If I die, tell Hyunjin..." He trailed off, eyelids fluttering, and her pulse spiked. Then his eyes opened again. "Tell him I'll take him out for drinks on his twenty-first birthday, like a proper fucking adulthood ceremony." She couldn't help the slight laugh, arising from panic and sharp relief. "When's his birthday?"

"A few weeks," Yeeun replied, not once looking away from the wound.

"Hey," Taehyung mumbled. She glanced up at him, and his mouth curved into a soft, drunken grin. "I'll live. Don't worry so much, your majesty, you don't want frown lines to go with that crown." He chuckled again, and she felt her eyes sting despite the smile on her face. "What the fuck? I'll fucking live."

"You better," she whispered, and his smile widened.

"Whatever your highness wishes."