Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

It always started with a small mistake, a small nothing that should’ve, could’ve, been solved with a civil conversation but that man was not civil. 

He was a violent drunk who then began to yell so loud his voice ricocheted through the thin walls and into Kim Dokja’s room where his mother hid him. She never wanted him there when things got bad.

Absent-mindedly, Kim Dokja wondered what his mother did ‘wrong’ this time to cause such treatment. Not like she deserved it of course, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it was worth it, to fight back.

In the other room, he heard the slapping of skin against skin, the man’s hand against his mother’s cheek. His hands came up slowly to cover his ears. With the sound muffled, Kim Dokja attempted to sleep.

That was instantly broken by the slamming of the door handle against the wall, his body dragged harshly against the cheap carpet by a large hand at his wrist. He’s thrown onto the living room floor hard and with sleep knocked out of him, sudden awareness hits him that something was different,

He sees a vague image of his mother’s body blocking him from that man. The man yells something incoherent to his foggy brain. He pushes himself up and inches back towards the kitchen.

His mother is crying something to the man, who shouts back with an ear shattering sound. Kim Dokja notes how much he hates how loud it is. How loud his mother cries and how loud the man yells.

He inches closer and in the corner of his eye, a knife block. A gift from his mother’s mom.

All but one of the back handles is missing.

It sits next to the sink to be washed.

His small hand reaches for it, only thinking of how loud it was. How much his head ached from the sound.

With his hands away from his ears, he could hear the conversation in full, even without context he understood, there wasn't context anyways. There never was. 

He trudged forward with the knife held in a loose grip.

Time seemed to slow when he approached. His mother turned to him. Her eyes moved down to the knife and widened. The man saw nothing as he continued to yell and then slap her across her already stinging red cheek.

She fell with a hard sound that was surely the breaking of bones. His foot moved to kick her. Kim Dokja squeezed his eyes shut. Another cracking sound.

In a rush, Kim Dokja moved forward. The knife was raised. His mother yelled something and tried to stop him but it was too late.

Up close, the smell of alcohol and cigarettes filled his nose, and then a heavy metallic smell that burned his nose.

Kim Dokja stepped back as the man’s body fell and blood began to pool around him. He thinks the man might’ve yelled something but the ringing in his ears is all he can think of.

The room is silent for a moment.

And then his mother swears quietly as she checks the man's body. Kim Dokja hears her say that he still breathes. She whispers under her breath. A plan.

She edges away from the body and blood and to Kim Dokja.

She slips the knife from his hands onto the floor and squeezes him tightly. His arms dangle at his side. The smell of blood is thick in the air and makes it presence known.

“Itwasn’tyouitwasn’tyouitwasn’tyouitwasn’tyouitwasn’tyouitwasn’tyouitwasn’tyouitwasn’tyou” the words are repeated in a whispered frenzy to the point that they slur together. 

It was him though. He can still feel the sticky blood on his cheek and hands.

“I'm sorry.” He doesn't mean the words but he feels as though he must say it.

His mom’s hand rubs the back of his head and he allows himself to bury his head in the crook of her neck for a comfort he didn't know he needed.

“This is what we’re gonna do–” Her following words are spoken in a rush whispered he has to strain to hear past the quieting ringing.

He nods at the end of it and picks the knife up.

His mom turns to that man's body.

Kim Dokja doesn't look back as he scrubs the knife clean enough to see his reflection, a tired boy splattered in blood. He puts the knife in its block and then washes the blood from himself the best he can using the kitchen sink.

As his mom instructed, he goes to his room and buries himself deep under the thin covers, curled into a tight ball, and wishes he could have helped more. The situation has begun to dawn on him.

No matter what his mother said, it was him who pushed the knife through skin and muscle. It was almost strange how easily it went in. 

Kim Dokja hears the front door open and knows that if he were to leave his room and go against his mother’s wishes, he would be greeted with his mother heaving a black garbage bag out the door, a trail of blood drops following her. She wouldn't want him to see that though so he respects her wishes and pretends that it is all fine.

That man has decided to be quiet. That’s all.

—

His mother enters his room later that night (or early in the morning he cannot tell), she hugs him close to her and Kim Dokja can feel the chill of her body. She smells heavily of bleach and chemicals. In fact the whole house does.

“Go back to sleep, we’ll pack in the morning.” Kim Dokja nods and holds her as close as his small hands can manage to provide a feeble comfort. Her body shakes slightly but she hides it behind a small smile, the one she gave him often when things had truly gone wrong.

He holds her a little tighter and drifts off to something akin to sleep though it's hard to tell due to the fact that whenever he closes his eyes a little too long, he sees the image of that man’s twitching, clearly still alive body, bleeding out, and Kim Dokja swears the man reaches for him and begs for help but before any words leave his mouth, Kim Dokja is awake.

That morning they pack the necessities. They never had much and so easily his life was packed and sealed into a backpack in less than an hour. His mother is done and out of her room a little after he finishes.

When they leave their rooms and have to pass through the living room to get to the front door, Kim Dokja averts his eyes from the huge bleach stain in the now ruined cheap carpet. Kim Dokja never cared for it anyways.

Any pictures of them are gone.

He gives the house one last glance and then he’s out and gone. 

He doesn’t return for a long time.

Chapter Text

A Few Years Later. Spring.

“Do you remember the way home?” Kim Dokja nods with false confidence. The middle school in front of him looms with disaster.  His mother squeezes his hand with comfort.

“I’ll be home late. Will you be okay?” Kim Dokja gives another nod, but the confidence is truer this time.

She lets his hand go to hold his shoulders and kiss the top of his head.

“Good boy. I’ll see you tonight. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Her eyes squint into a grin and then she’s off and Kim Dokja is left alone in front of the school.

Anxiety is a ball in his chest that makes each step shaky and clumsy. There was no time for school after the accident. Things had settled though and it was what his mother wanted for him, to get a highschool diploma at least; so he swallows his fears and pushes the door open.

He swears everyone is staring at him in his slightly too-big uniform.

In his hand is a black and white map of the school and he struggles to find his first class. The layout wasn’t necessarily different from his old school but he has not attended in a while and any memories of that school were horrid and often he opted to block them out.

The late bell rings and the last small group of kids who actually intend to attend classes rush past him.

Left alone stranded in an almost eerie hallway; the sound of classes in session echo quietly.

He checks the classroom number in front of him and then the small arrow to his class, neatly written in red by his mother. 

With his eyes glued to the map he begins to walk without looking up once, not his smartests move admittedly, because the moment he turns a corner, he bumps into someone and falls backwards.

“Watch where you’re going!” A girl’s voice yells.

Kim Dokja grabs the map that settled just a few inches away and looks up to her.

The girl has short, black hair, a mole under her sharp dark eyes, and wears a purple hoodie over the standard school uniform. Something Kim Dokja questions considering to his knowledge the dress code was rather strict.

“Sorry!” He says quietly while trying to flatten the wrinkles in the page. The girl glares at him but after doing a onceover his probably pitiful state, her eyes soften, if only slightly. She trudged forward and took the map from him.

“Is the circled class your first class?” Her voice was sharp but held no malice, Kim Dokja nodded in response.

“Follow me.” She gave the map one more glance before stuffing it back into his hands and with one swoop, picked her bag that had fallen, and led him to his class.

She didn't bother trying to make conversation during the walk and Kim Dokja, too wrapped up in his own thoughts, didn't try either. The girl clearly had no intention of being friends with him and while he appreciated her kind gesture, he knew all too well how kids really were.

The walk was short and soon they were in front of a classroom numbered the same as the one on the map.

“Thank you.” He said out of courtesy. He didn't need her totally hating him.

She waved a hand up in acknowledgement and then was gone around a corner.

Kim Dokja could feel the anxiety returning as he stood before the door. Iit had left with the distraction the girl brought to his thoughts, but now he could feel it in full. It hurt to breathe and his sweaty hands shook slightly. He wiped them on his pants and opened the door.

Everyone turned to him. He gulped.

“You must be–” The teacher, an old man with curly white hair and sharp glasses, dressed in a black suit, looked down at the paper in his hand, “Kim Dokja.” Kim Dokja nodded and the teacher pointed at an empty seat near the back of the classroom, right beside the window. Kim Dokja gave him a grateful smile at the seating arrangement and walked swiftly to his seat, ignoring the teacher who scolded him for being late.

He sat down and waited for the tide of a school schedule to wash over him and for his thoughts and anxieties to get lost in the passage of time, but his wishes were never so easily granted.

The day went painfully slow. He didn’t speak a word and only by following tides of students did he find his other classes more quickly. He ate his pathetic lunch in a bathroom stall. It wasn't worth the effort to ask to sit at someone's table just to be denied. 

The lunch bell rang and Kim Dokja went on with his dreadful school day, full of strange stares and ‘accidental’ bumps from others.

The last school bell rang and Kim Dokja watched kids gather near his desk, discussing plans for after school and whatnot.

“Excuse me.” A boy gave him a harsh glare and moved out of the way like it was the hardest thing to do.

The walk to the train station was slow, the train was slow, the walk home was slow,it was all so unbelievably slow he wanted to scream. 

The door handle squeaked when he turned it.

The ‘house’ was dark and quiet. He walked through the living room and into the ‘kitchen’ which wasn't really a kitchen, but a fake tiled area in the corner, surrounded by a few cheap cupboards, a small sink that ran tinted water, and a microwave.

He grabbed a container marked dinner on a sticky-note written in his mothers writing that ended with a heart. 

He sat on the living room floor in front of a blank tv and ate.

It was still cold even after heating it up.

His mom came home late, long after the sun had set and the city had become a bustle of people getting home.

“How was school?” She squeezed him into a hug after slipping off her shoes. Her voice was tired but it held a grin just for him.

“School was good! I met–lots of new people..um made some new friends.” His voice held false optimism.

“Really?” Her eyebrow quirked up.

“Really.” He gave her a grin and she saw it. His nostrils flared and she could do nothing but bury her face in his har and hug him tighter.

“I know things have been rough. I’ll get a stable job. I promise. It will be okay.” The words were whispered in that way she did when they still lived with–

He buried himself into his mothers faded shirt and hugged her like he was a kid again. Only to himself would he admit the few tears he shed.

She held his face, wet with tears, with both hands and placed her forehead against his. Her eyes fluttered closed.

“It will be okay.” She whispered into the space between them and for a moment Kim Dokja believed it with all his heart.

For a moment he was free of fears of the future.

—

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going.”

Kim Dokja looks behind him and is met with a wall. He shields his face with his forearms without thinking before Song Minwoo’s fist can crash into his teeth and are met with his arms instead.

It’s a temporary solution because the boy grabs him by the collar and sends another fist into his jaw and drops him onto the ground. Kim Dokja lets the foot kick him in the gut and only moves his arms to support his heaving lungs that struggle for breath.

“You're not gonna fight back huh? Gonna make me the bad guy?!” His words make Kim Dokja’s ears ring. 

“You.Fucking.Asked.For.This.You.Tattletale.” His words are now a crisp but harsh whisper against his ear. A hand holds him up by his hair.

Kim Dokja lets his body go sluggish.

Song Minwoo drops him and kicks him one more time right into his ribcage, hard enough for a crip crack to echo through the empty halls.

Kim Dokja lets out a choked cough that fades into darkness.

—

“So sorry–yes.”

Words fade in and out of his muffled ears.

He turns his head to look around and groans.

Everything hurts.

“Mo–”

“Don't start with that.” His aunt's words are harsh the moment the doctor is gone.

“I'm not going to be able to keep covering for these little outbursts of yours.” 

Kim Dokja would laugh if his body let him. What bullshit.

She doesn't say anything else and grabs her purse from the chair and leaves. Her heels clack behind her.

It’s hard to breathe and maybe if he cared more he would call for a nurse but he just cannot be bothered.

Hair flops in front of his eyes and tickles his nose. It’s long enough now to cover his eyes. She always cutted his hair for him. With those cheap kitchen scissors. He always grumbled and whined like a little brat the whole time. Now he would beg for a moment like that again.

His lids are heavy with something more than just his body wanting to heal. Before they close he thinks he sees a purple hoodie.

“Don’t–”

The world is dark again.

—

The teacher's voice drones in the background as he stares out the window. He can see some students ditching, the road that leads to the train station, and a few houses in the distance.

How would his body look against that pavement, he wonders. The thought only lasts a second before the wind carries it away and the bell rings.

He doesn't look at the words scrawled in messy black marker on his desk. His eyes avoid them on their own and find his bag. His hand reaches for it but someone else grabs it before him.

He doesn't meet the boy’s eyes but rather watches as the few things that were in his bag are spilled out against the floor. His crappy phone with them.

He rushes to grab it but the man grabs it faster when he sees Kim Dokja’s reaction. One of the boy’s friends yells a joke that truly isn't funny but they all laugh anyways. Kim Dokja wonders how they are getting away with this with the teacher in the classroom but with a look up he sees the teacher is gone. Probably ran out of there the moment he saw the group approach Kim Dokja.

Someone yells something Kim Dokja doesn’t hear because a punch is thrown into his nose when he reaches for the phone. 

He’s thrown back but gets up with a desperation he didn't know he had.

“You want your phone? Go get it then.” It's thrown and Kim Dokja swears time slows and he watches in slow-mo as the phone flies through the window.

“If that's what you really want.” Kim Dokja whispers and runs to the widow and jumps. He sees his phone and reaches for it. It falls with a shatter, pieces of glass fly, the case breaks into multiple parts, and with it Kim Dokja.

—

She always watched afar and tried to help him in any feeble way she could. She had tried to befriend him that first day but her words fell on deaf ears and eventually she gave up. She tried again when the bullying started. She tried to threaten them separately but they just punched harder and he ended up in the hospital. The guilt was heavy from then on and Han Sooyoung wonders how it got so bad.

How her attempts to help only made things worse.

How it ended with his body at her knees. 

His blood on her hands.

She thinks she's screaming but she can't hear a thing.

A hand falls on her shoulder and red and blue lights flash around them.

Hot tears fall down her cheek.

“Please don't die.” She pleads to his unmoving body before it's taken away.

—

Rain taps against her window as Han Sooyoung types away at her keyboard. The blue light has begun to slightly hurt her eyes.

She rubs at them for the nth time and after seeing how late it is, she saves her work and closes the laptop. 

She moves to the kitchen to get some water when someone pounds on the door. She ignores it at first. Anyone knocking so late at night only meant trouble. She grabs a glass from the cupboard and then more knocking. She sighs deeply and finishes pouring the glass. She takes a sip and approaches the door slowly. More banging.

“Give me a second!” She yells through the door.

“What the he–” She freezes. Her glass slips from her hand and shatters. Blood swells instantly from the small cuts on her palm and fingers.

In front of her stands a drenched Kim Dokja holding a dirtied white dog. His eye is swollen shut and an ugly mix of deep purples and pale, almost gray, blues. His nose is definitely broken by the way it’s titled, the color, and the blood that bleeds through the useless napkin and trails down, over his lip and jaw, and drips onto her porch. 

He offers her a grim smile and Han Sooyoung doesn't know if she should make it two purple eyes or hug the life out of him. She decides to do a mix of it but before she can both hit and hug him, his body falls.

Damn bastard couldn't even stay awake for her to beat him. 

The dog moves around the glass mess and leaves muddy prints over her wooden floors as it scampers inside. Han Sooyoung curses and debates calling an ambulance but taking into account the fact he went to her and not a hospital tells her all she needs to know.

She drags his body inside (that is definitely too light for his age) and props him against her bathtub.

She grabs her first aid kit, wraps gauze on the cuts on her hand quickly, and after a quick search, she bandages an ice pack against his eye and then cleans up the blood with a wet towel. In the light, she can see the bloodstains on his too big faded t-shirt for a band she has never heard of. She holds a towel against his nose and ices it with the other hand. It's no longer a throbbing red and she's grateful for that.

Her head is swarming with thoughts that fight for her attention but she ignores them and offers attention to the dirty dog that meekly approaches them. 

The dog doesn't go to Kim Dokja immediately but stops and sniffs her for a moment before nuzzling against her pajama pants and then settling itself next to Kim Dokja’s leg.

Han Sooyoung lets out a hagride sigh and calms herself.

All that matters was that he was alive. She could yell at him all she wanted later for now she would simply relax with the knowledge that he lived. She didn't kill him.

It had been three long years but he had returned to her.

Her low laugh echoes off the walls as she shakes her head.

Life could be so funny sometimes.

—

“What the actual fuck, KIm Dokja.” Han Sooyoung seared with anger and her head spun slightly at the man in front of her, on her porch again, beaten and bloodied, though more conscious this time, holding the hand of a girl to the right of him, and a boy to the left. 

His eye was bruised purple and blue but it appeared that he could still see out of it. His lip was split and bleed actively while blood was also smeared bright red against his pale skin. The girl with short blonde hair had a few light bruises but overall appeared to be fine and the boy with curly brown hair had a skinned knee but any blood had already dried.

“Look. I know it’s been a while–”

“A while?? Are you fucking serious? It’s been five years!” Her voice rose to a yell and she wasn't blind to how the girl flinched lightly.

“I know…Can we please just talk inside?” His voice cracked with desperation and Han Sooyoung thought she must be losing it because she lets them in and fixes the kids up first. As she thought, the girl just had a few bruises that Han Sooyoung gave her ice for and other than the skinned knee, the boy was fine. She sent both children to the guest bedroom with some of her clothes. It was oversized but it would work as pajamas for now.

Once she was sure they were gone, Han Sooyoung let her hand fall hard against his cheek. He winced but didn't move to avoid it and even laughed slightly like there was anything funny about the current situation.

“I deserved that..I’m sorry.”

She bends down and begins to clean up his lip with no gentleness. His teeth clench as she cleans the wound.

“If you were sorry–you wouldn't have disappeared in the first place.” She says between clenched teeth.

Beside her, Biyoo is oblivious to the mood and only wags her tail in excitement and paws at Kim Dokja’s leg.

“It’s not that simple–”

“It never is with you.”

She throws away the bloodied paper towels and comes back with ice.

Kim Dokja holds it against his eye and looks away.

“I promise to explain everything but–” His voice is grave and his eyebrows are set in hard lines.

Han Sooyoung's eyebrows furrow.

“What?”

“I really messed up this time.” He looks up at Han Sooyoung and his face is deathly pale. His hand not holding the ice quivers and only stops when he clenches the material of his pants between his fingers, and pure, undeniable fear fills those dark eyes. More fear than she’d ever seen in him before.

He draws a single, long breath and begins.

Chapter Text

The crime scene was already secured and surrounded in yellow tape by the time they arrived. No one even asked the notorious man to show his badge as he ducks under the tape and approaches the crime scene. Behind him, his Lieutenant shows her badge and mutters apologies.

The body is easy to find, surrounded in another circle of yellow tape and tags surrounding it mark evidence as investigators mutter things between themselves and reporters fight to get good glimpses at the body.

“Who is he?” 

“Song Minwoo. Twenty-nine years old.” A familiar voice says with somberness. 

Lee Jihye turns and though she suspects it, she is still surprised to see Commander Uriel, in her typical black suit with a pencil skirt that sits just above her knees. Her blonde hair falling in waves around her.

“Commander Uriel.” Lee Jihye salutes but her expression lacks seriousness.

“You’re fine Lieutenant.” Uriel waves her hand dismissively and Lee Jihye relaxes with a grin despite the body in front of them.

“What are you doing here?” Yoo Joonghyuk folds his arms in front of his chest with a grimace.

“Oh come on, I know you’re happy to see me!” Uriel snorts but her expression falls, perhaps because of the dawning realization they were in fact at a crime scene and it wouldn’t look good for the commander of police to be messing around.

“Forensics was already here. Whoever did it is either very lucky or very clever. Some blood was found a few feet away but considering the condition Mr.Song was left in, I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s his. Other than that, there were no witnesses to our knowledge. An employee at a club some feet away found him on her way home. A Ms.Jung Hewoon. Her alibi was already confirmed by others at the club.” Uriel speaks with a crispness devoid of emotion.

“Suspects?” Yoo Joonghyuk has given up questioning the older women about her reason for being on the scene and instead had begun his own investigation of the body without actually touching it.

The man had dark hair partially matted to his head with dried blood that dripped down the side of his face. His skin was a pale blue that contrasted his dark brown eyes, devoid of any life, and wide open stuck in permanent fear. The whites edged with a bright red. His lips were parted slightly and a darker blue, chapped and smeared with blood that had trickled from his nose. His neck was lined with an ugly purple-blue bruise.

“Too dark to catch the fight and no one in the neighborhood heard a thing.”

“How convenient..” Yoo Joonghyuk mutters before asking, “The parents have identified him?” 

“An hour ago. Seems like he comes from a wealthier family, they’re putting up a hefty sum to find the killer.”

‘Well that explains why she’s here .’ Yoo Joonghyuk thinks before stalking off. He had seen everything he needed to. Lee Jihye gawks for a moment before jogging to catch up and waves hurriedly towards Uriel.

“He really doesn’t change.” Uriel says to herself aloud before leaving the scene in a stride.

—

Her eyes were heavy with sleep but Han Sooyoung couldn't close them, not after what she heard.

Kim Dokja was asleep on the couch in some of her baggier clothes that still managed to be slightly small on him.

She was tempted to call Yoo Sangah. The woman was good at providing comfort and would surely answer, despite how late it was, but then Han Sooyoung had to remind herself that by doing so she would have to explain everything and that was something she couldn't bring herself to do. To even try to repeat the words said, even to herself, left her throat dry.

The slight breeze provides some comfort in its own way however. She let herself get lost in the sound of chirping cicadas and the quiet breeze that passed through the trees.

“Um–” Han Sooyoung turns to find the young girl standing in the doorway. Her eyes move from watching Kim Dokja with concern to hers. As predicted, the t-shirt was too big for her and reached just above her knees. The fuzzy pants bunched loosley at her ankles to allow her to walk.

“Is ahjussi going to be alright?” Han Sooyoung looks away.

“Don’t worry, the bastard was always skilled at getting himself out of these types of messes.” She spoke the words with gentleness when she remembered how the girl had flinched earlier.

In the silence that stretches between them, Han Sooyoung turns at the sound of soft footsteps. Hovering around the corner is the boy with curly brown hair holding a sheet from the guest bed around his shoulders.

“Did he tell you who I was?” As expected, they both shake their heads .

“I’m an old friend. I’ve known him for a long time–maybe even as long as how old you are.” Han Sooyoung’s eyes drift back out the front porch,

“Really!?” Shin Yoosung looks in disbelief,

“How did you meet ahjussi?” Memories of highschool flash for a terrible moment.

Han Sooyoung gives them an attempt of a smile.

“That’s a story for another time. You guys should be heading to bed. We’ll figure things out in the morning.”

Lee Gilyoung moves towards them and walks to the small space of the couch not being taken up by Kim Dokja. He moves a pillow and snuggles himself and the blanket into it with a satisfied smile. Shin Yoosung pouts at this scene and stomps over.

“I wanna sleep next to ahjussi too!”

“There's no room! And quiet down, he’s sleeping.” At his remark, Shin Yoosung does quiet and opts to forcefully shove him over so that they are both huddled in the large white blanket at Kim Dokja’s feet.

They both look quite unhappy at the sharing of space, but it’s been a long day and soon the two children fall asleep. Their heads rest against each other and Biyoo  has somehow made a spot for herself between them.

Han Sooyoung can’t help but laugh lightly at the mundane scene and a sense of peace falls over her, despite what Kim Dokja has told her.

—

“Here’s the report of the suspects the victim bullied. Seems to be a dead end in my opinion. All of them have solid alibis confirmed by friends or family.”

She sets the report on the desk and in turn Yoo Joonghyuk looks over it. As he does Lee Jihye makes herself comfortable in the chair across from his desk.

It only takes a few minutes for him to flip through it and as she said, on a surface level they all appeared clean from word alone though they would know for sure after the forensics came back. 

“You’re missing one.” The file flops on the desk with a small smack toward her.

“Huh!” Lee Jihye looks over the file with confusion.

“Kim Dokja. Where is his interview?”

“Oh…Uh he’s missing. He hasn’t been seen for thirteen years.”

“Any living relatives?” Yoo Joonghyuk begins to tap the desk as he speaks.

“His aunt and her family and a mother who hasn’t been reported deceased but I can’t find any current information on her and her family claims to have last seen her several years ago. His father is deceased with no living family.”

“Have you brought in the aunt individually?”

“Uh yes–” Lee Jihye pauses to pull out a notebook from her jacket pocket. “Apparently the mom was seen to be unfit to take care of Kim Dokja so he was forced to live with his aunt. When he was fifteen he got in an accident and was hospitalized–”

“What accident?”

Lee Jihye flips through a few pages and frowns slightly.

“Attempted suicide. He was only in the hospital for two weeks before he disappeared. I have yet to talk to the hospital he was administered to but the aunt claims he was in no condition to run away.”

“I need you to get the address of where Kim Dokja previously lived, talk to the hospital staff and see if any worked there when he was administered. As well as a report about what you’ve found on Kim Dokja by tomorrow morning.”

“Yes sir!” She says with a playful smile and loose salute before leaving Yoo Joonghyuk alone to his thoughts.

“Kim Dokja..” He mutters the name with strange familiar that causes him to call Uriel.

The phone rings for only a moment before she picks up.

“Did you work on the case of a missing fifteen year old boy, Kim Dokja?” He wasn't willing to vocally admit it, but the other women had years on him when it came to experience,

“Kim Dokja..” Uriel ponders the name on her tongue before it suddenly hits her.

“I think there was a case about…ten years ago or something like that, where the victim had the name Kim..something, perhaps it’s a coincidence but we could never find the killer and the case became cold. Why? Are the cases connected somehow? Same killer?” Her voice rises with intrigue.

“I’m not sure, but I’m going to find out..” Yoo Joonghyuk stops tapping his finger and stands.

“Do you think that you could send me the file on that?”

“Of course but seriously, what’s this about?” She said with a more grave tone.

“I’ll keep you updated. How long are those forensic reports?”

“Considering how much the parents are paying, I would say two weeks minimum.”

‘ Two weeks to find this mystery boy..’ 

“Alright. Thank you.”

“No problem!”

Beeps ring through the room and Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyes focus in on the file brought by Lee Jihye.

“Just who are you?” Yoo Joonghyuk said underneath his breath with frustration.

—

“Kim Dokja! Just what do you think you’re doing?” Han Sooyoung demands from the hallway. In front of her, Kim Dokja still wore her clothes and had a foot out the door.

It was way too early to be up but her doors creaked occasionally and whenever someone left or entered, she knew.

“I’m just gonna grab some things.”

“From that house? Are you sure you want to go back there?”

His mouth set in a determined line but grief was heavy in those eyes.

“I have to.” Han Sooyoung drew a long breath.

“One second.”

She left and Kim Dokja was left standing alone awkwardly until she returned soon after.

In her hands was a school bag and black beanie.

She pushed them into his arms and leaned in close to whisper something into his ear. “I swear to–Swear you’ll come back. Swear it.” Her voice was soft with vulnerability. 

He fixed the backpack on and adjusted the straps so they sat comfortly on his shoulders before sliding the beanie onto his head. 

He grabs her shoulders in a sort of hug and whispers in a hushed tone “I swear it.”

Lee Gilyoung stirs slightly and Kim Dokja pulls back.

Han Sooyoung grabs a lollipop from her hoodie pocket and sucks on it as she watches his back dissapear into the rising sun. The artificial lemon fills her senses and calms her.

—

For the nth time, Yoo Joonghyuk checks the address on the post-it note. It looked as abandoned as it did in the black and white photo he saw before which was not surprising at all considering its history with the police and who he suspected as Kim Dokja’s fathers death.

The door was slightly rotted with its faded white paint and stood out against the more well kept houses around it.

The handle made him cringe with its creaking but surprisingly it was unlocked.

The inside of the house was truly a wreck and looked its years.

From the doorway, he could see a couch against the wall, torn up with strange stains and murky smells that made his nose scrunch. Across from it was a tv with its screen shattered, a large crack across the middle. In the distance between the cheap couch and a kitchen area, a large dirty white stain in the brown-grayish carpet. It was clear police tape surrounded it at one point but the tape was torn and a walkway was made to the kitchen area. With his hand over his nose, he gave the kitchen a quick glance. Any food that was there was ransacked. He left quickly, as the smells and dust were starting to get to him. A single hallway led him to two bedrooms. He entered the first one that had a torn piece of paper taped to it. The letters ‘Ki’ were written in light blue crayon. Faded with age.

He opens the door and is met with a truly depressing sight.

A mattress was shoved against the corner and maybe there were blankets at one point but now it was stripped bare. Something had eaten through the top layers of it and small holes exposed the inside stuffing. Papers littered the floor, children drawings, smudged and faded like the paper on the door. He picked up one that stuck out the most with its descent condition.

In that childlike way, the drawing depicts a stick figure with a too big head and short back hair. This stick figure held the hand of a taller stick figure with long brown hair. Both figures had wide smiles and simple lines for eyes. He traced a finger over them and felt the wax before his hand drawled to the figure in the lower right corner. Bright red scribbles pushed so hard into the paper that he could feel the indents.

He doesn't know why he does it. Perhaps curiosity. Perhaps something else. Whatever the reason, he folds the drawing and pockets it into his coat.

Suddenly a sound from the closet. Something akin to the clatter of objects.

His instincts perk up and a hand hovers over his gun’s holster.

“Who’s there!”

—

Kim Dokja’s hand shakily hovers over a familiar door handle. 

His nerves are shot for more reasons than one and nothing will calm them.

He finally gets a tight enough grip to jiggle the door handle until it unlocks and opens as it did when he was a child and nostalgia fills him only to die at the state of the house. He didn't necessarily love it and most memories were not the best, but the ones he did have, the ones that made home for themselves deep in his mind.

The stain yells for his attention, surrounded by bright yellow police tape, broken by raiders most likely. It's no longer stark white as he remembers when they left that day but stained gray with dirt and..other things.

He looks away when a wave of nausea hits him. 

He avoids his eyes from it and heads for his room.

The sign he made as his child with his name was torn with only a small piece hanging off.

He takes a  big breath and enters the room.

The first thing he notices is the missing sheets and papers that scatter the room. Old drawings he did as a child.

He shows them no care as the crayoned drawings crinkle in an almost satisfying way.

He sits atop his bed, riddled with small holes and stains. 

He mentally acknowledges that it's probably a health hazard but he can't bring himself to stand again. Kim Dokja wonders if he could feel his mothers warmth if he laid as he did when he was a child. Could he become a child again? Pure with no worries of school and the police. 

“I never graduated, mother.” His eyes are closed and the words come out as a hard whisper that leaves aches where they resided for so long. For so long he wished to apologize to her. For that at least.

“I’m sorry.” The moment hangs in the air and then falls as he lets it go.

“I guess I should do what I came here for.” Kim Dokja mutters to himself and walks to the small closet in the corner of the room across from his bed.

He opens the closet with hope but is met with disappointment. Everything he left was gone. It was expected but he still wanted to think that at least his clothes he left behind in the move would be left. It would've made getting clothes for the kids easier. He already owed Han Sooyoung so much, he couldn't bear to owe her more.

Kim Dokja jumps at a sound from a different room. No one else would enter the house, He heard rumors (and made some) over the years. 

‘It’s just a bug.’ He tells himself but still moves a little quicker than before.

—

Yoo Joonghyuk side steps while his other hand not hovering over his gun opens the door quickly. A rat surries out and leaves a mess behind it.

Yoo Joonghyuk drops his stance and stands awkwardly for a moment like a fool.

The mess left behind is a variety of beer bottles and cans shoved in the corner.

He mentally notes it and as a small stupid chill overcomes him, he closes the closet and leaves. 

Yoo Jooghyuk wasn't scared. Truly. But there was something about that room so vulnerable that it felt like an invasion of privacy to look through. The house had one room left but one look from the door tells him there is absolutely nothing. The room left completely bare all for a few ragged clothes.

With a sigh, he leaves the apartment and is about to call Uriel again when she calls him first. He picks up quickly.

“I found something you may wanna see.”

—

Kim Dokja has just slipped his shoes off when Han Sooyoung suddenly shoves the screen of her phone into his face.

He pauses and reads the headlines and his brain promptly shuts down with panic.

“Han Sooyoung..Listen to me. I didn’t do it.”

Han Sooyoung pockets her phone into her back pocket.

“You’re sure that he was–”

“Yes. Gosh..” Kim Dokja stops himself from saying anything else when he hears the approaching of the kids.

“Hyung!”

“Ahjussi!”

They pushed and shoved each other and Kim Dokja, who was still shaken from that damned article, fell in the excitement of it all. His back hit the door with a bang and a sudden silence fell over everyone,

And then Kim Dokja was laughing hysterically. The kids gave him concerning looks and he heard Shin Yoosung ask Han Sooyoung in a whisper if he hit his head or something. However he just couldn't stop laughing because there he was, most likely being searched for by the police, with two kids he was definitely not qualified to take care of, and a hyperactive dog.

“Hyung? Are you crying?”

Kim Dokja brought a hand up to feel the small droplets that hung off his eyelashes in shock.

“I'm fine–really.” He said in between airless breathes. “These are happy tears.” 

Once the comotion had ended, the kids ate lunch and while they did Kim Dokja and Han Sooyoung talked in the other room.

“What was that about earlier?” She lounged on the couch with her laptop in her lap. She peered at him over the top of it.

“It’s just–” He paused as embarrassment plagued his cheeks. “I just never thought I’d have kids or um–someone who’d be so happy to see me–no offense to you of course! It’s just…different.” Kim Dokja shook his head and searched for the right words to explain the warmth in his chest. 

‘ Perhaps this is how she felt’ The thought hits him like a truck and leaves an ache where there was warmth.

“Motherhood?” Han Sooyoung says teasingly with a snicker but that is exactly it. Or something like it. Kim Dokja does not say that though. Instead he laughs with her and shakes his head. She would most likely never get it and that was alright. 

“Hey about the article–” Han Sooyoung starts and Kim Dokja cuts her off before she can continue.

“Let's not talk about this right now, I don't want the kids hearing. They don't need to be reminded of what happened.” His grim expression stops her from saying more as they sit in silence.

—

“Master! I mean sir, I can't believe you went without me!” Lee Jihye says with a pout right after barging into his office waving around a file and some papers in her hand.

“If you finished your previous assignment on time, you could’ve.” Yoo Joonghyuk smirks slightly.

“Oh you know that’s not fair.” Lee Jihye rolls her eyes and pauses when she sees Uriel.

“Don’t tell me he brought you to see the house.” Lee Jihye said with mock despair.

Uriel smiles and shakes her head, “He didn’t.”

“Back to the task at hand–” Yoo Joonghyuk shoots Lee Jihye a slight glare and causes her to stand beside Uriel, “How did you even find this place?” In his hands was a picture of an aged house though not broken down like the house he had previously visited. 

“It was actually kinda strange. Someone called in claiming that they had seen him there. Wouldn't even tell us their name. Just gave us the address and hung up. What was weirder was that Kim Namwoon claimed the voice sounded like a woman trying to conceal her voice by how awkward it is. It’s not a lot but its all we really have to work with.” Uriel sighed. Even her high spirits were lowered by the case. She prided herself on her efficiency to finish a case or atleast find leads and while they had one it was flimsy and there was no other evidence to work with.

“I guess we do.”

Chapter Text

"Is this really necessary?" Kim Dokja says with skepticism as he looks down at the outfit Han Sooyoung had picked out for him, something from the nicer racks he never would have dreamed of even glancing at in the past.

The outfit was a black vest worn over a long-sleeved white button-up, paired with black slacks and a matching black bowtie. The fabric, a smooth silk material, feels cool against his skin, though undeniably uncomfortable compared to Kim Dokja's usual attire.

"If you really want the job? Definitely," Han Sooyoung gives him a thumbs-up and a sinister grin that makes him feel even more uncertain.

"Ahjussi! You look so cool!" Shin Yoosung says from beside Han Sooyoung with wide eyes.

"Hyung! I think you look cooler," Lee Gilyoung adds from her other side.

Kim Dokja can't help but tug on his sleeve as his cheeks heat up.

"What’s this job anyway?" Kim Dokja asks Han Sooyoung as he begins to study himself in one of the nearby mirrors.

"At a bar a friend of mine owns. You start tonight."

Kim Dokja can only turn quickly and stare at her in a mixture of shock and overwhelming gratitude. Han Sooyoung has already done so much for him with the guise of an annoyed smirk.

And although she would most likely never admit it to his face, it's clear she cares. It's evident in the ways she takes him in every single time he shows up on her doorstep, accepting the story he gives her for why he was gone, even if she's obviously doubtful. It's clear in the way she gazes at him when she thinks he isn't looking, in the way her eyes soften and she sees something he doesn’t. Her annoyed smirk is only a guise.

"I—" He tries to find the right words, but her amused tone cuts him off.

“C'mon, let's check out. We need to be there in an hour."

"I swear I’ll pay you back," he says quickly, just quiet enough that the kids, who are off looking at different racks, couldn’t hear.

"Damn right you will," she says with a playful grin and laugh before passing him to round up the kids.

Kim Dokja can only watch them with a small smile.

—

Yoo Joonghyuk's eyes flip from the photo in his hands to the building in front of him. It's a considerable size, stretching far both ways from the dirt path where he, Uriel, Lee Jihye, and Kim Namwoon stand.

Although they are far enough to see the whole building, Yoo Joonghyuk, if he squints, can pick up some of the smaller details.

Like the old-fashioned design of the main entrance. Although the stairway leading up to it was battered, most likely from years of erosion, it appeared quite stable. The door the stairs led up to was tall and wooden. Above the door was what appeared to be a concrete balcony littered with yellowed plants and thin vines that crawled down the side of the balcony and swirled around the top of the door.

Despite it being mid-afternoon, from where they stood it was impossible to see past the darkness emitting from the doorway that hid what was just beyond the balcony. On each side of the balcony entrance were square, yellowed windows.

The roof of the main entrance was angular and worn down but still held an almost grand air to it.

“It’s almost beautiful…” Lee Jihye whispers to herself under her breath as she takes in the overwhelming building.

And Yoo Joonghyuk cannot help but agree as he looks over to the other side of the building.

On both sides of the main entrance were wide buildings that stretched rather far and appeared to be connected to the main entrance. Like the entrance, there were aged brick steps that led up to a pair of cracked doors some distance apart.

A pair of long, cracked, concrete columns on both sides of the steps supported the balcony above the doors. The balcony was guarded with rusted rails that caught light and left a glimmer of orange-green on the walls. Parallel to the doors below them were what appeared to be door.

The left side of the building matched this setup all for the steps leading up to the pair of doors, which was missing completely. The roof of these long sections appeared to be the same and stretched behind the roof of the main entrance. The roof itself appeared to be some sort of wood littered with patches of dark paint but for the most part, all the paint had been worn with time.

“Are you sure you wrote the right address?” Lee Jihye says skeptically.

“I was but…” Kim Namwoon’s voice trails off as his eyes study the building with confusion.

“It has to be at least be..twenty something years since it was inhabited.” Uriel’s voice trails off as she steps forward to inspect the building closer.

Yoo Joonghyuk moves with her as his eyebrows furrow.

“I’ll check the right side if you want to check the left and then we can have Lee Jihye and Kim Namwoon circle the parameter to make sure no one is here and then have them meet us in the entrance?” Yoo Joonghyuk nodded at Uriel's suggestion and made way for the left entrance.

Upon closer inspection, he could see an imprint in the ground where the brick staircase must have been but all that was there now as a few bricks scattered some inches away.

Yoo Joonghyuk slipped on a pair of leather black gloves that rested snugly at his wrist, gifted to him by Lee Jihye the year they started working together.

He tested the wood where the steps should have ended and was satisfied when it didn't give out with pressure under the weight.

Cautiously, Yoo Joonghyuk pulls himself onto the wood, right in front of one of the doors. Up close he can see how truly rotted the door is: chipped, cracked, and grayed. Yoo Joonghyuk feels the cuts beneath his fingers when he runs his hand over the door lightly before pushing it open.

The door gives way with a loud creak that makes him cringe. In front of Yoo Joonghyuk, his shadow stretches against the wooden floor as sun streams in from behind him and warms his back.

Yoo Joonghyuk is immediately met with the fact that the room is a mess in a way that isn’t natural. Yes the blankets laid lazily on the single mattress in the corner of the room and pillows were thrown about the room; however, the way they laid was methodical and unnatural.

His point was proven by the few books strewed on the floor by the bookcase to his right. A few were opened perfectly in the middle and some laid on top of eachother in a perfect stack. The books were in perfect condition except for some dust on the covers.

He slips his phone from his pocket and clicks a few photos of the books and bed before putting it back.

“Like a stage…” Yoo Joonghyuk muttered quietly to himself as he began to take a closer look.

Next to the bed was a small coffee table covered in a thin layer of dust with a single drawer. He pulled the wooden handle and grimaced at the dust that emerged and made his nose itch. The drawer opened with a push and revealed a single picture frame.

Around it were shards of glass and upon closer inspection Yoo Joonghyuk found that the frame itself was broken diagonally.

Carefully, he pulled the pieces to reveal the back of a photo. He began to pull the photo out when he realized that it was in fact ripped in half. He dusted shards of glass from each one and slipped them into a plastic bag before studying them.

The photos were black and white and depicted at least twenty different children lined up with the tallest in the back. It was when he tried to line the two pieces up that he realized that the photo was not complete, A good few inches were missing from the middle.

He slipped each photo into its own bag and then the remnants of the frame in another.

‘Just in case..’ He thought.

Yoo Joonghyuk frowned and moved in front of the bed where a staircase to the upper area led.

Light from the balcony area brightened the room to reveal absolutely nothing.

Yoo Joonghyuk sighed and approached the balcony, The railing was gray and partially rusted. Despite that, the view was quite nice. He could see the dirt path where they came from and fields of overgrown grass littered with colorful bulbs.

“Master!!” Lee Jihye’s voice echoed from below and it only took a moment before he spotted her.

“We’ll wait down here for you and we can search the main entrance together!!” She echoed through cupped hands.

“I need to search the other room first!” They nodded and headed in the direction of the main entrance. Yoo Joonghyuk began to make his way down the stairs. His head was full of thoughts concerning the strange rooms.

—

“Are you sure the kids will be okay?” Kim Dokja asked again as he tugged on his sleeve. Feeling the rich material between his fingers and fiddling with the cuff’s button.

“They’ll be fine. Now stop worrying and focus on the job.” Kim Dokja nodded and stared out the window. Images of apartments and stores blurring together.

“Are you sure the kids will be okay?” Kim Dokja asked again as he tugged on his sleeve. Feeling the rich material between his fingers and fiddling with the cuff’s button.

“They’ll be fine. Now stop worrying and focus on the job.” Kim Dokja nodded and stared out the window. Images of apartments and stores blurring together.

The silence felt so much heavier between them now that the kids and their bickering were gone.

It had started sometime after they left the shop and Han Sooyoung checked her phone.

Kim Dokja turns to her and catches her eye. He starts to say something when her hand quickly flips to the radio.

The feeling of something close to love he felt at the show has dropped to the pit of his stomach and is replaced with a sense of anxiety. Kim Dokja has surely done something wrong but he doesn’t know what.

“Are you-” His words are cut off by Han Sooyoung turning the radio up.

The rest of the ride goes like that.

Radio blasting and a sense of overbearing anxiety festering in Kim Dokja as he stole looks to Han Sooyoung, who quite frankly, looked a mixture of confused and pissed.

When they finally got to the place in which Kim Dokja was supposed to be working, Kim Dokja exited the car awkwardly. Han Sooyoung had already gotten out and waited at the bar’s doors.

“Isn’t it a little early to be drinking?”

“Very funny.” She gave him a tight grin and together they entered.

The bar, while not very big, had a cozy feeling to it, with some seats lined up at the bar counter. Behind the counter was more bottles of alcohol than he'd seen in his life as well as a metal door that he assumed led to a kitchen of some sort (something about the smell of food). Next to the shelves of alcohol was a menu with some food and a tv that played some sort of sport quietly.

Opposite of the counter, were booths lined up against the white wall with black seats that appeared rather comfortable. Near the seats was a pool table that Kim Dokjas fingers itched to try out.

Warm light brightened the room and some sort of 2000's rock played quietly in the background.

“We’re clos-'' A woman emerges from a metal door behind the counter and pauses when she sees them.

“Sooyoung-ssi!” The woman quickly hurried towards them and gave Han Sooyoung a hug.

Once they were done Han Sooyoung turned to Kim Dokja.

“This is Kim Dokja.” They shook hands and Kim Dokja took the moment to study the woman’s appearance.

Her black hair was tied into a tidy bun though a few loose strands framed her face. Her eyes were a brilliant hazle that studied him back. She wore a white button up and red tie under a black vest similar to his own. Her sleeves were bunched at her elbows and she wore a pair of tight fitting black gloves.

“Nice to meet you.” Kim Dokja says awkwardly and pulls his hand back.

“I’ll see you guys later.” Han Sooyoung says with a wave and is gone as quick as they entered.

“Dokja-ssi? You alright?”

“Ah yes, fine, sorry. This is kinda my first job in a while..” He revealed nervously.

Jung Heewon’s eyes softened and she smiled slightly.

“What’s your experience in making drinks?” She asked while leading him behind the bar.

“Oh uh none. I-don’t really have the best experience with alcohol…” Kim Dokja looks anywhere but the other woman's eyes as he speaks quickly.

“I see. Well, we’ll start you on waiting.” Jung Heewon does not push for more information and Kim Dokja is grateful for it.

Jung Heewon holds the metal door for him which he sees leads to a decently sized kitchen where a well built man with short, dark hair, stocks and cleans. When he hears the door open he turns to them with confusion and then a grin.

“You must be the new waiter. I’m Lee Hyunsung.”

The other man held his hand out and Kim Dokja took it. His grip was firm but not crushing.

“Uh yeah-Kim Dokja.” Lee Hyunsung releases his hand with one more firm shake and turns to slip on a pair of gloves.

“Let me give you a mini tour! As you’ll see to your left is the stove and grill. In front of you is the plating station and in the back is an area for dishes as well as a fridge and freezer.” It was a rather simple set up and the kitchen wasn’t necessarily big but every inch of empty space was used effectively for storage without feeling cluttered.

“Well chop, chop! We open in an hour, so let’s finish cleaning up and stocking.” Kim Dokja and Lee Hyunsung nod and as Kim Dokja trails behind Jung Heewon back up front, an unexpected feeling of excitement wells at the thought of being able to provide for the kids and perhaps live with them in a nice home he paid for.

‘Even if it is naive-’ It didn’t matter. He would do it. He would provide for them.

—

“Soo what have we found?” Uriel clasped her hands in a small clap.

“We circled the perimeter and…found nothing.” Lee Jihye said with disappointment.

“Not even a trace of someone living here recently. Either they covered their tracks really well or…this was all pointless.” Kim Namwoon added.

Uriel looked towards Yoo Joonghyuk.

Yoo Joonghyuk removed his phone from his pocket and swiped through the photos he took of the rooms while he spoke.

“The rooms were all trashed and-” The photo suddenly felt heavy in his pocket as he suddenly remembered it. Yoo Joonghyuk should just hand it to her. Simple as that. However, there was something. Something he was missing…something wasn’t right.

He shook his head and removed the photos as well as the frame and handed it over to her. A prickling feeling of regret passed the moment it left his hand.

“This was in a dresser. The frame was broken when I found it. As well as everything else in that room.”

Uriel inspected the ripped photos and frame before slipping them into her jacket pocket before pulling out her phone and swiping for a moment and then turning it to them.

On the screen were pictures of rooms similar to the ones Yoo Joonghyuk had seen. Trash littered the floors, dust was settled on almost everything, and similarly, there was a mattress in the corner. The only difference being a lack of books or bookshelf.

Uriel flipped through a few more similar ones before turning the phone away.

“Why don’t we head back. Do you guys need a ride?” She asked Lee Jihye and Kim Namwoon.

They said something in response but Yoo Joonghyuk wasn’t listening. His eyes were transfixed on the strange home. Something about it gave him chills but he just could not look away.

“-hyuk..”

“Yoo Joonghyuk. Did you hear me?”

“What was that?”

“I asked if you wanted to get drinks after dropping them off.” She points towards the car where Lee Jihye and Kim Namwoon are already seated in the back.

Yoo Joonghyuk stared at her skeptically as he remembered the last time they went drinking together.

She drank a little too much and Yoo Joonghyuk had to pay for the drinks and her cab home.

“I promise to pay this time.” Though he was still skeptical he nodded as an idea came to him.

“Fine. But I’m choosing the bar.”

“Fine by me!” She walked off with a skip in her step; unaware of where Yoo Joonghyuk had chosen.

—

“You damn workaholic…” Uriel muttered under her breath as the car pulled into the parking lot of a familiar bar.

At the doors some reporters tried to push through each other and ask the owner something but she simply yelled back something about, ironically, calling the police if they weren’t there for a drink. Like rats, the reporters scattered to their cars or into the bar.

Once the doors had cleared up, Uriel and Yoo Joonghyuk went in.

Yoo Joonghyuk had briefly seen the inside of the bar, when they talked to the owner. A woman named Jung Heewon if he recalled correctly.

Though seeing it active and filled with people was something else.

Some booths were filled with a variety of people while others drank alone. Some played at a pool table and some sat by the stools by the actual bar area itself and watched some sort of sport Yoo Joonghyuk couldn’t be bothered to care about.

“I’ll go get the drinks while you find a booth?” Yoo Joonghyuk nodded before going off.

He found one in a quieter area of the bar and waited for Uriel.

Colored lights flashed and a rock song he didn’t recognize plated in the background while he waited and found his eyes drifting around the bar. Specifically to what wasn’t there before. An anxious man carrying a tray with food and drinks.

“Was he there before?” He asked an approaching Uriel.

“Uhh I think…Anyways I wanted to talk about the house from earlier.”

Yoo Joonghyuk shook his mind of the man and turned to her as she pulled a file from her purse.

“According to Kim Namwoon’s research, it should’ve been abandoned for at least a decade and yet no sign of being looted or animal festation...” Uriel trailed off and looked away from the file to meet his eyes.

Yoo Joonghyuk nodded. “As well as the mess…It felt..fake.”

“Have they found anything on the anonymous caller?”

“Nothing yet though there we have people on the case trying to decode the voice. They’re saying it will be done within a few days.”

“What about the aunt?”

“They brought her back in but she just said the same thing.” Uriel said with a sigh and a shake of her head.

Yoo Joonghyuk’s eyebrows furrowed and fell on the file but he came up blank. The only thing he could think of were the children's drawings and the strange photo he found in the house.

“What about-” Yoo Joonghyuk started before a waiter appeared.

“Your drinks.”

A man, the same man he saw earlier, stopped at the table with the tray and sat down two square cups filled with ice and a deep yellow alcohol that smelled strongly.

The man himself was dressed in a nice white shirt, a black vest, and black slacks.

‘The only notable things about him.’ Yoo Joonghyuk thought when he saw the man’s anxious, but plain face. His dark hair was messy but something you saw everyday. His eyes were perhaps the only thing of note. A dark gray, almost black, that seemed aged.

“Thank you!” Uriel started to wave him off and Yoo Joonghyuk watched the man’s image start to blur, the nametag no longer readable. A strange frantic took over him. Something yelled that he couldn’t let that man go without talking to him.

“Wait.”

Chapter Text

“What’d you do that for? Not that I’m complaining, it’s just very…unlike you.” Uriel’s voice is concerned though amused as she sips her drink lazily.

Yoo Joonghyuk looks away and sips his own drink with slight disgust. He didn’t drink often and when he did, it was in small portions.

And so, as he sipped drink after drink, watching the waiter he now knew as Kim Dokja, a familiar name he was sure he had heard somewhere, fill their drinks and become more confident.

It was a strange thing, to watch the man who had been so anxious earlier that night that Yoo Joonghyuk thought he was going to drop the tray, but sometime between a few drinks and talking with Uriel about the case, he had gained confidence.

His smile wavered ever so slightly but there was a playful light in his eyes.

‘That's the other thing.’ Yoo Joonghyuk thought and finished his drink.

Maybe it was because his cheeks were warming and the taste of cheap alcohol coated his tongue and throat and everything seemed to blur but the man and the curve of his jaw seemed so-

Yoo Joonghyuk reached over and downed Uriel’s full glass.

“Yoo Joonghyuk! Are you alright!” Uriel’s voice was surprisingly clear despite her fevered cheeks.

“Fine..” Yoo Joonghyuk rubbed the spot where he let his head hit the table.

“Maybe we should get going…You don’t look too good…” Yoo Joonghyuk looked up and saw the man behind her.

‘What was his name…’

“Yoo Joonghyuk.”

The man must have sensed his gaze because his head turned and sweat beaded down the man’s neck and for a moment it was just them. There was no crappy music Yoo Joonghyuk really didn’t care for, Uriel was not there, no one was there but them.

His eyes strained and so he blinked and then the man was gone. Yoo Joonghyuk felt that frantic anxiety from before pooling in his stomach and so without thinking he stood.

“Yoo Joonghyuk!” He vaguely registers Uriel yelling and grabbing his arm.

He pulls away and walks in the direction he thinks he saw the man but finds he is stupidly unsteady on his feet that feel so heavy and the blurring colors do nothing but make him feel sick.

“Where are you-!”

And then he sees him, coming from behind the bar without his usual tray and his apron hanging loosely. Yoo Joonghyuk approaches.

“Playaa game of pool with me.” His words involuntarily slur and he feels so stupid standing there in front of the man who looks momentarily confused before recognition gleams in those dark eyes and he smirks.

“Why?” It is obvious he is toying with Yoo Joonghyuk; however, Yoo Joonghyuk realizes the moment he lets him go he will feel a regret he does not understand.

“For your number.” He forces the words to come out clear and crisp. His head spins.

The man-Kim Dokja-as reads his loosely hanging name tag that he finally looks at, seems to blush at this comment but Yoo Joonghyuk cannot tell through the bright lights that must have somehow gotten brighter because Yoo Joonghyuk’s vision blurs and he spins for a moment and he is ready to go down like an idiotic fool when Kim Dokja catches him by the arm.

“I really don’t think you're in the condition to play fairly.” Kim Dokja whispers inches from his ear, his breath hot on his already fevered skin.

“Just-play me.” Yoo Joonghyuk’s breath came out hard and he gripped the bar counter hard.

“Fine.” Looking back, Yoo Joonghyuk wouldv’e found it suspicious how easily the other man agreed.

Kim Dokja led him by the arm and it all just felt like a dream. The edges of his vision blurred, the music filled and vibrated within him, and the bodies they pushed through felt unreal. Like nothing more than color and shadow.

They reached the pool table and Yoo Joonghyuk forced himself to stay stable as he grabbed a pool pole and Kim Dokja grabbed the other

Opposite from each other on each side of the table, they began.

—

Kim Dokja picks up loose glasses and stacks them on a metal tray.

“Dokja-ssi, you’re good to head out. Hyunsung and I can finish by ourselves.”

Kim Dokja nodded and handed the tray off to her.

“What was with you and that guy earlier?” Jung Heewon asks as he passes the tray. Kim Dokja pauses and brings a hand to his mouth to hide his smirk.

“It was nothing…He just wanted to play a game of pool against me.” Jung Heewon eyes him with suspicion and it is clear she doesn’t believe him but then suddenly her eyes gleam with mischief as she takes the tray with her towards a dirty table.

“Who won?” She asks which she walks.

Kim Dokja’s cheeks heat slightly as the memory plays vividly in his mind.

“I did.”

—

The first thing Yoo Joonghyuk sees when he opens his eyes is the blinding light filtering through his window. And then it hits him like a ton of rocks. His head pounds so hard he thinks it will split and he feels so sick he has to force himself to rush to the bathroom and empty whatever was left in his stomach.

When he’s done, Yoo Joonghyuk forces himself up and is about to go back to bed when he notices the white bottle on his bedside table and then hears his phone ring. He lets out a huff and settles on the edge of his bed.

Answering while focusing on the clock that flashes 9:23 AM in red.

“Hello.” Yoo Joonghyuk supports his phone with one hand and his aching head with the other.

“Joonghyuk-ssi! How are you feeling?” For once, Uriel speaks quieter and Yoo Joonghyuk is grateful for it.

“Shit. What happened last night?” It hadn’t dawned on him immediately but while cleaning up, Yoo Joonghyuk realized that he could not remember anything after entering the bar and the vague image of a man.

Uriel’s laughter is so sudden and loud that Yoo Joonghyuk has to pull the phone away from his ear. Eventually her laughter dies into a sigh.

“You played pool.”

“I played…pool.” Yoo Joonghyuk says in disbelief as he searches his memory but comes up blank.

“And you lost.”

Silence drags on for a moment while Yoo Joonghyuk checks out the white bottle, which turns out to be a bottle of tylenol with a sticky note under from Uriel telling him to take some when he woke up, accompanied with a little drawing of her giving him a thumbs up.

If he wasn’t feeling so – perhaps he would’ve laughed at the drawing.

“Was there a reason you called me?” Yoo Joonghyuk asks finally.

“Oh yeah! So after keeping an eye on the Aunt, we found out that the anonymous tip came from her.”

It took a moment for the words to process through his pounding head, but when they did he sat up immediately and pulled out a piece of paper from his bedside table drawer and began to write.

“How?”

“We got another call last night, it was recorded, and then the voice was decoded.”

“What was the call about?”

“I don’t have the information with me right now but I believe she said something about having more information on the old house we visited before the bar.”

Yoo Joonghyuk is already standing and downing the tylenol dry by the time Uriel finishes her sentence and although his head still slightly spins, Yoo Joonghyuk can feel himself stabilizing.

“I’m on my way.”

“Alright but don’t push yourself too much. You really didn’t look good last night.”

“Okay.”

Yoo Joonghyuk hangs up and tosses his phone onto the bed. He grabs some clothes from his dresser and takes a quick shower, not even allowing himself to enjoy the hot water against his back as he scrubs away any remnants from the night before. He looks down in disgust at what swirls down the drain.

Once he gets out, Yoo Joonghyuk begins to pad his hair dry when he turns to the mirror that has begun to clear up and sees something on his cheek. Faint black marks almost resembling numbers. And then he looks down at his hand. In the same writing were smudged black numbers.

His eyebrows furrow. It is clear that it’s a phone number but who’s phone number is beyond him.

Yoo Joonghyuk leans against the bathroom counter, closes his eyes and despite the constant thrum of slight pain, Yoo Joonghyuk tries to remember.

He starts at leaving the broken down mansion. Remembering Lee Jihye and Kim Namwoon’s banter on their way home. He remembers pulling into the bar and sitting down. A plain anxious man. The thought hits him like a truck and he can almost see him in his mind. The dark hair. The man’s nice, if not slightly disheveled uniform. And his name tag with a name that he cannot remember. Yoo Joonghyuk tries to remember the man’s face but it only makes his head pound harder.

He rubs his eyes with a heavy sigh and begins to finish getting ready though his mind is only thinking of the strange man and the smudged numbers.

Once he’s done, Yoo Joonghyuk grabs his phone and keys from his room, but then his eyes land on the white bottle.

‘Just to be safe.’ He downs two more dry.

Yoo Joonghyuk starts his car and he really should just leave but then without a moment's thought, he types the phone number into his phone and sends a message.

[Who are you.]

He tosses the phone onto the passenger seat without another look.

—

By the time Kim Dokja gets home, it is almost three in the morning. It takes almost all his energy to force himself out of the car. He drags slowly behind Han Sooyoung.

Inside, he slips his shoes off by the door and nearly collapses on the couch. The only thing stopping him being the feeling of his shirt stuck slightly to his back and how constricting his clothes suddenly feels, despite the fact that they were tailored to fit exactly.

He instead heads to his room and is shocked to see the kids and Biyoo sleeping soundly on his bed. Or as peacefully the kids can together. Shin Yoosung sleeps on the far left and Lee Gilyoung on the far right. Biyoo being the border between them. He watches with amusement as Lee Gilyoung pulls more of the blanket towards him. Shin Yoosung frowns slightly and pulls it back. This continues until Kim Dokja grabs a blanket that was pushed onto the ground and fixes the blanket onto Lee Gilyoung who currently had it. Before Shin Yoosung can take it back, he places the new one on her and watches as they fall into a more peaceful sleep. Their faces relax and Kim Dokja cannot help but smile as he pushes hair out of Shin Yoosung’s face.

“They were trying to wait up for you. They had this plan to hide under the covers and scare you.”

Kim Dokja turns quickly and sees Han Sooyoung leaning in the doorway.

“When you’re down changing-can we talk?”

“Yeah…” Kim Dokja’s smile waivers as he looks away from her and to the kids again.

For a while longer, he sits and watches them as he tries to push away the blooming anxiety that makes his hands shake slightly.

Finally he stands and with a pair of pj’s he found discarded on the floor with the blanket. Most likely pushed off as well.

In the bathroom, Kim Dokja takes his time changing and only thinks about what he will say. He considers just telling her the full, unfiltered truth, but then he remembers his own mother’s devastated face when he told her and crumbles. Kim Dokja finishes changing and for a moment he stares in the mirror. He finds he doesn’t even recognize himself. His eyes are too alive and his hair is longer, resting just above his shoulders. His body is bony and he can still feel the grime from work despite changing into new clothes. Even his own teeth feel strange in his mouth.

Kim Dokja stumbles back against the bathroom wall and squeezes his eyes. His whole body thrums.

“I’m just being stupid..” He mutters to himself.

Kim Dokja stands straight and opens his eyes. His vision flashes black and white and then he can see again.

Kim Dokja avoids the mirror as he gathers his work clothes.

When he’s done, he folds them up nicely and sets them on the bathroom counter.

He opens the door slowly and walks down the hall.

He finds Han Sooyoung at the table. Her hair is tied back in a low ponytail at the base of her neck. She holds her phone with her left hand and a steaming mug in the other.

Kim Dokja watches her for a moment and then walks in.

She looks up and stops scrolling.

“How was work?” Her eyes follow him as he sits down across from her.

“Good. I-” Han Sooyoung sips her drink and then cuts him off.

“Look, I got a text from a friend of mine. She’s a fan of my books. She texted me after the clothing store and she told me briefly about the investigation.” Han Sooyoung’s neutral face quickly became concerned, almost angry. She scrolled through her phone for a second and then showed him an image,

Kim Dokja felt a chill run through him. On screen was a picture of a room he knew by heart. He knew how the mattress felt underneath him after a hard day and he knew how each and every book felt. Underneath the image, he could see a text.

[weird right!]

Before he could read the next text Han Sooyoung pulled the phone away.

“I-am sorry for snapping earlier but this looks exactly like the room you described to me from the orphanage and-” Her voice had gradually become louder and then suddenly she went quiet.

“I don’t want to lose you again. “

Kim Dokja’s shoulders fall and even though there is a knot in his throat and he truly doesn’t trust himself to speak Kim Dokja forces out the only words he can think to say.

“You’re not going to lose me.”

“They have evidence-!” Han Sooyoung starts but now Kim Dokja is the one cutting her off.

“They don’t have anything. We made sure of that when we left. It’s been like a week since they started investigating. If there was anything to find, they would’ve found it by now.”

Han Sooyoung nods, however it doesn't look like she believes him by the way her eyes narrow and she bites her lip.

“I promise.” Kim Dokja says with a light tone.

“You were never good at keeping your promises.”

“Like you would know.”

“And whose fault is that?” Han Sooyoung smirks as though she’s won.

“Whatever…” Kim Dokja scoffs as his heart feels a little lighter and the lie buries itself a little more until he is sure it will become embedded into his very being.

Han Sooyoung takes a sip of her drink and although Kim Dokja can see the concern still slightly etched on her face, she looks-lighter.

“But seriously, how was work?”

“It was…a lot-but it was nice. I actually met this guy. He asked to play pool for my number and he lost but he was too cute to pass up.” Kim Dokja’s cheeks heat at his own words but when he looks up to see Han Sooyoung’s gleaming eyes he gets a bad feeling.

“Has he texted you yet? What did he look like? What’s his name?” Han Sooyoung’s bombardment of questions shocks Kim Dokja but he is almost happy by them. Although he had been living with her, they hadn’t actually sat down and had a normal conversation.

“I didn’t catch his name. He was..really drunk. I doubt he has texted me because of that but even drunk he was hot, I’ll admit. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and he was kind of scowling. Muscular build.” Kim Dokja leaves out the fact that he suspects the man might have been a cop due to the way he pulled out the stack of bills for a drink, though that wasn’t what set Kim Dokja off. It was the way he watched Kim Dokja. Like he was going to kill him or something. It was a look Kim Dokja was familiar with. It was a look cops in the past had given him like he was a nuisance.

“Oh my gosh!” Han Sooyoung’s sudden laughter brings him back as he watches her almost fall out of her chair, tears forming at the edges of her eyes.

“What?!”

“He’s going to hate you when he sobers up!” She says between laughs.

“What do you mean!” Kim Dokja says completely baffled before bursting into laughter with her at his own obliviousness. He cannot help it. Not when she looks so genuinely happy.

Once they both calm down, Han Sooyoung gets him a glass of water. Kim Dokja takes a long sip and then gives her a more serious look.

“Seriously though.”

“He’s probably going to have the worst hangover and associate that with you.”

“Oh gosh..” The moment she says it, it all makes sense.

“Don’t worry, if he was that into you, he’ll look for you.”

Kim Dokja nods and then looks at the microwave clock and groans as a wave of exhaustion falls over him. It was almost five in the morning.

“I should get to bed. I work tomorrow.” Kim Dokja stands and stretches, letting out a long yawn.

“Alrighty.” Han Sooyoung nods and leads him to the kids bedroom.

“You can use their bed. I’m sure they don’t mind.”

She stops in the doorway as Kim Dokja flops into the bed.

“Thank you, Han Sooyoung.” He whispers and although she says nothing back the way she pauses, tells him that she heard.

—

“Hyuuuung! It’s almost one in the afternoon. Time to get up!” Kim Dokja turns to his side and opens his eyes slightly to see a blurry image of Lee Gilyoung shaking his shoulders.

“I’m up.” He musters out and flops an arm over his eyes.

“Cmonn.” He feels Lee Gilyoung shift next to him and sit down on the bed.

Kim Dokja tries to fight back sleep when he suddenly feels a hand brushing his hair.

“How long are we staying with Sooyoung-ssi?” Lee Gilyoung asks quietly.

“Do you not like it here?” Kim Dokja mumbles though his mind is clear.

“It’s not that! It’s just…you always look tired and upset. Did something happen when…you went to visit your mom?”

Kim Dokja stills instantly. He forces himself to breathe as he removes his arm and looks to Lee Gilyoung.

“Nothing happened. We’re just staying here until I can get enough for our own place.” He gives him the best smile he can and places a hand on the boy’s head.

Lee Gilyoung nods and grins back.

“Will Biyoo come too?”

“Of course.” Kim Dokja relaxes as the topic changes.

“I’m coming too!” Shin Yoosung yells, appearing suddenly in the doorway.

She runs toward the bed and snuggles herself between him and Lee Gilyoung. Biyoo follows not soon after.

“No!” Lee Gilyoung huffs and pushes Shin Yoosung away to hug onto Kim Dokja’s arm. In response, Shin Yoosung shoots Lee Gilyoung a sharp glare and pulls Kim Dokja towards her.

“Well he’s going to sleep in my room!”

‘It’s like I'm the blanket from last night.’ Kim Dokja thinks with amusement until the tugs become harder.

“Break it up! You’re going to tear his arms off.” Han Sooyoung yells though her face makes it clear she is enjoying the scene.

The kids both let go and Kim Dokja rubs his arms where their hands were.

“Now go eat lunch and let him get ready.”

Both the kids pout but still get out of the bed and walk out the door, whispering something that sounds like threats to each other. Biyoo stays and circles into his lap and rests her head on his knee.

“Thank you.” Kim Dokja sighs and drops his head.

“Do they not know about Song Minwoo?” Kim Dokja’s head shoots up.

“No and I don’t plan on them ever finding out.”

“Are you sure that’s the right choice?”

“Would you prefer I have possible murder charges against me?”

“I thought you said you didn’t do it and that if you did, they had nothing against you.” Han Sooyoung retorts quickly.

“I didn’t and they don’t; however, I just don’t want them to get evolved.” And I don’t want them to grow up like I did if I do get arrested, Kim Dokja left out.

“Alright just-go get ready for work. Jung Heewon asked if you could come in earlier, I already washed your clothes. They’re on the bathroom counter. Don’t forget to eat lunch!” Han Sooyoung yells behind her as she leaves.

Kim Dokja’s head falls into his hands. Somehow it felt as though the words he had just spoken were not true.

Kim Dokja stays like that until his back aches and he has to force himself up.

When he finally does, Kim Dokja looks at his phone and is surprised to see a message from an unknown number.

[the waiter from the bar]

Kim Dokja bit his lip and thought for a moment about leaving it like that but then Han Sooyoung’s words rang in his head and so Kim Dokja wrote one more quick message and tossed his phone.

—

“I deserve to be put in witness protection! He’s killed before and once he’s found out what I’ve done, he’ll kill me next!” Ms.Kim yelled before dramatically shoving her face into her hands.

“Ms.Kim, we can discuss that after you start from the top and tell us what you know.” Yoo Joonghyuk tapped his pencil against his clipboard and looked at her.

She took a long breath and shoved her hands into her lap.

“About twenty years ago that bastard killed my brother. I tried to tell the police but no one believed m-”

“How do you know it was him?”

“Before he passed, my brother told me how the brat always acted out when someone visited. And it was clear the way he acted around my brother that he hated him.”

Yoo Joonghyuk copied down what the women said though he paid no mind to it. He had looked into it after looking through the crime scene and considered the facts that he could find and decided that the only person that could’ve killed the man would be his mother who was still missing.

“And how did you find out about the mansion?”

“I was getting there. After the murder they moved, but that bitch, Lee Sookyung, got custody taken away and he came to live with me-” She paused as though she was going to start crying and then continued in a strained voice.

“I tried my best to parent him but I have my own kids to look after and I guess he just slipped through the cracks and next thing I know he’s in the hospital. They told me he jumped.” She sheds a single tear and it takes everything in Yoo Joonghyuk to not cringe. She had started off with so much hatred for Kim Dokja and now she was currently crying. It was clear how fake it was all to make her look better.

“And after that?”

Ms.Kim paused and looked away before facing him again with sorrow.

“He went missing. I hired a detective to look for him and I found out about the orphanage. It’s funded anonymously by this couple who go by ‘Hades and Persephone’. I would've figured out a way for him to come live with my family again but we weren’t in a place, financially, to house him. I really did regret it but now seeing what he’s done..”

Yoo Joonghyuk wrote a few more notes and set the pen down.

“Thank you Ms.Kim. We’ll be in contact.”

Ms.Kim stood and was escorted out by Lee Jihye. Yoo Joonghyuk stayed in the interview room thinking over the other woman's words.

It was clear she didn’t like Kim Dokja and blamed him for her brother’s death. She was using the story of him staying with her to make herself look better and probably didn’t even bother to try to take him back.

Yoo Joonghyuk sighed and massaged his head.

‘Hades and Persephone.’ The names rang in his head and he stood. Perhaps the interview wasn’t totally useless, Yoo Joonghyuk thought vaguely and was met by Lee Jihye’s curious face as he opened the door.

“What’d she say?”

“I’ll go over it in the office later. I need a coffee.”

“Want me to grab it for you?” Lee Jihye offered with a grin.

“It’s fine. I need some air.”

“You do look like crap.” Uriel chimed in from behind him.

Yoo Joonghyuk scowled and walked away quickly.

Once outside and hit with the chilly breeze, Yoo Joonghyuk felt himself relax as he fished his phone from his packet and walked towards the coffee shop not close from the station that he had been to a few times.

And then paused at the texts on his screen.

[the waiter from the bar]

[we played pool]

His head swarmed but he forced himself to keep walking.

Uriel had mentioned something about pool but-

Without warning images, memories, of flashing lights and another man, the one he vaguely remembered, playing pool together. He remembers the way the man laughed when he lost, as Uriel said, and yet his nametag…his nametag was as blurry as his face.

Yoo Joonghyuk typed something back quickly and put his phone away. With everything going on with the investigation, he wouldn’t have time for any type of relationship. Still…it wouldn’t hurt to know his name.

Chapter Text

Hello! I debated on whether to even make something like this, but it’s been almost half a year since the last chapter so I thought it would be better than complete silence. To be completely clear, I have not abandoned this project and I even have some of chapter five done (which I can post if you guys would like and just split chapter five into two parts), however I cannot guarantee when the rest of the other chapters will be finished because the program I am in at school keeps me busy (even during summer). Thank you so much for your patience though, I’ll do my best to post again when I can <33