Chapter 68
The night air in Seoul had turned jagged, a cold front sweeping through the concrete canyons and biting through the fabric of Haru's jacket. After the warmth of the dinner with Mae-rin and the tiny, glowing joy of Na-bi's "big flower" recital plans, the walk back to his neighborhood felt like he was floating. He was still vibrating with the quiet thrill of belonging, he finally got a step closer to Mae-rin. His heart was burning with joy.
But the universe, it seemed, had a perverse sense of timing.
As he turned the corner toward his apartment , the golden hue of his mood was abruptly snuffed out. A sleek, familiar car sat idling near the entrance, its engine a low, predatory hum against the silence of the residential street. Haru stopped, his hand tightening around the strap of his bag. He didn't need to see the license plate to know who was waiting.
He let out a long, weary sigh that clouded in the freezing air. The "Haru" of before might have felt a spike of paralyzing terror, but the Sunghoon residing within him only felt a profound, bone-deep exhaustion. He briefly considered turning around and walking in the opposite direction, but the futility of it stopped him. Shadows like these didn't disappear just because you closed your eyes. He walked toward the vehicle, his footsteps heavy on the pavement, and rapped his knuckles sharply against the driver's side window.
The tinted glass rolled down with a slow, mechanical hiss, revealing a face that had haunted Haru and complicated his life more than it already was.
"What are you doing here?" Haru asked, his tone flat and unwelcoming. He didn't bother with the polite honorifics or the masks he wore for the public; he spoke with the irritation of a man whose sanctuary had been trespassed upon.
Min-hyuk didn't answer immediately. He leaned back against the leather headrest, his eyes tracing the line of Haru's jaw with a strange, unsettling intensity. "I didn't know you came in so late," he murmured, his voice lacking its usual sharp edge of intimidation.
"How is that any of your business?" Haru countered, crossing his arms over his chest to ward off both the cold and the man's gaze.
Min-hyuk didn't answer immediately as he let out a dry, mirthless chuckle
He pushed the door open and stepped out into the night. He stumbled slightly, his hand catching the frame of the car to steady himself. He was dressed in an expensive suit that probably cost more than Haru's yearly rent, but he carried himself with a slight sway, a lack of the usual shark-like precision Haru associated with him.
Haru took an instinctive step back, his senses sharpening. He remembered the vague, unspoken tension that seemed to exist between Min-hyuk and Raiven - the way Min-hyuk's name had been a forbidden topic. He could ask, he could probe into the history that linked the idol and the gangster, but he didn't want to grant Min-hyuk a single second more of his time than was necessary.
"Were you with someone?" Min-hyuk asked.
There was a jagged edge to the question - a trace of genuine pain that caught Haru off guard. It was so out of character for the ruthless debt collector that Haru internally questioned if he had imagined it.
It didn't matter.
"What if I was? How does that concern you?"Haru's voice rose, a spark of anger finally igniting in his chest.
Min-hyuk's expression hardened, the shadows of the street making his features look like they were carved from granite. He tried to take a step toward Haru, but his balance betrayed him again. He lurched forward, nearly pitching into Haru's space.
Haru caught him by the shoulder, more out of a reflex to keep the man away from him than out of kindness.
Up close, the scent hit him: expensive cologne drowned in the sharp, fermented sting of high-end whiskey.
"Are you drunk?" Haru asked, his voice dripping with frustration.
"What… are you worried about me?" Min-hyuk's voice was slurred, a ghost of a smirk playing on his lips as he leaned closer. His hot, alcohol-laden breath fanned across Haru's face.
Haru recoiled, backing up until the cold metal of the car's rear door pressed into his spine. "You shouldn't drive while drunk. Someone could get hurt."
"Are you worried I'll get hurt?" Min-hyuk asked, his tone shifting into something dangerously flirty, his eyes searching Haru's face with a desperate intensity.
"I'm worried about the innocent people on the road, not you," Haru snapped, his patience evaporating.
"So if I get in this car right now and drive away... you won't stop me?" Min-hyuk asked, his eyes challenged Haru's. He turned, fumbling for the door handle, his movements clumsy.
Before he could pull it open, Haru's hand shot out. He grabbed Min-hyuk's wrist and yanked it away from the handle, the force of the movement making Min-hyuk stumble back toward the opposite wall of the alleyway.
"Are you crazy?" Haru scolded, his voice rising to a near-shout that echoed in the quiet alley. "You're going to kill someone!"
To Haru's horror, Min-hyuk started to laugh. It was a dry, hacking sound that lacked any real mirth. He leaned against the brickwork, sliding down slightly until he was propped up by his own sheer stubbornness.
"Give me your phone," Haru commanded, stepping forward. When Min-hyuk made no move to comply, Haru reached into the man's jacket pockets himself, prying the device out. He tried to wake the screen, but it remained a stubborn, dead slab of glass.
"Which gang member walks around with a dead phone?" Haru muttered, glaring at the unresponsive tech.
"We can just go inside," Min-hyuk suggested, his eyes roaming over Haru his gaze heavy and unfocused.. "Your place is right there."
"No!" Haru's refusal was instantaneous and firm. There was no universe in which he was letting this man across his house especiallywith Se-hee inside.
Gritting his teeth, Haru grabbed Min-hyuk by the arm and hauled him toward the back seat of the car. Min-hyuk groaned, his body heavy and uncooperative, but Haru managed to shove him into the plush leather interior. He threw the dead phone onto the passenger seat and climbed into the driver's side.
"Where do you live?" Haru barked, looking at the slumped figure in the rearview mirror.
Min-hyuk only responded with an incoherent grunt, his head lulling against the headrest.
"Great. Perfect," Haru cursed under his breath. He remembered seeing Se-hee use the car's built-in GPS before; after a few frustrated attempts and a string of muttered curses, he managed to pull up a list of recent destinations. He pointed to a secluded apartment complex address in a high-end district "Is this it?"
Min-hyuk offered another non-committal grunt.
"You are determined to make my life harder, aren't you?" Haru shifted the car into gear and pulled away from the curb.
The drive was silent, save for the rhythmic clicking of the turn signal and the occasional mumble from the back seat. Haru drove with a focused intensity, his mind racing. The "Good Samaritan" trope was one he had played before, but never with a man who had threatened to break his legs only months prior.
When they arrived at the secluded complex, the atmosphere was eerily quiet. Haru parked the car and walked around to the back. When he opened the door, Min-hyuk was out cold.
"Wake up," Haru said, shaking his shoulder. No response.
Haru stood there for a long moment, looking at the sleeping man. He could just leave him here. He could lock the doors, drop the keys in a nearby bush, and walk away. He actually started to do it, walking several paces toward the main road, but the ingrained morality of his soul forced his feet to stop.
With a low groan of his own, he walked back.
He hauled Min-hyuk out of the car, grunting under the man's dead weight. He managed to hoist him onto his back in a fireman's carry, his knees buckling slightly. Haru realized with a surge of annoyance that the building didn't have an elevator service.
By the time he reached the third floor, Haru's breath was coming in jagged gasps ,his lungs burning. Min-hyuk mumbled against his neck, something about the third floor. By the time Haru reached the landing, he was drenched in sweat despite the cold and his muscles were screaming. He shifted Min-hyuk's weight, trying to shake him awake. "Which door?" he wheezed.
There were four doors in the hallway. Min-hyuk's arm lifted weakly, pointing toward the one at the very end. Haru carried him to it and leaned him against the frame.
"Passcode. Give it to me."
It took three tries and a series of incoherent mumblings before the electronic lock finally chirped and clicked open.
Haru nudged the door open with his foot and stepped inside. He was surprised by what he saw. He had expected something cold, clinical, or perhaps gaudy with the spoils of criminal life. Instead, the apartment was spacious and possessed a casual, homey vibe. There were books on the shelves, soft lighting, and a settled warmth that suggested a life lived in private, away from the violence of the streets.
He navigated to the bedroom and practically dumped Min-hyuk onto the large bed. Min-hyuk groaned, rolling over onto his side as the mattress dipped under his weight.
Haru stood there, his chest heaving, sweat dampening his brow. He should leave. He had done his duty. But his eyes caught the way Min-hyuk's expensive shoes were tracking grit onto the clean sheets. He sighed, leaning down to remove the shoes and set them aside. He walked to the kitchen, found a glass, filled it with water, and placed it on the nightstand.
"I'm done. I better not see you again," Haru whispered to the shadows of the room.
He turned to leave. He was two steps away when a hand shot out from the bed.
With a strength that belied his drunken state, Min-hyuk gripped Haru's wrist and yanked. Haru, caught off balance, stumbled and fell across the bed. Before he could scramble up, Min-hyuk was over him, pinning him down with the heavy, suffocating weight of his body.
Min-hyuk's eyes were open now, but they were still clouded by a drunken, agonizing daze.
"What are you doing?" Haru asked, his voice sharp with a sudden rush of adrenaline. He tried to pry Min-hyuk's hands off him, but the man possessed the terrifying, singular strength of the intoxicated.
Memories of the warehouse - the smell of dust, the cold steel, the looming threat- flooded Haru's mind. A wave of bitter regret washed over him. This is what you get for being a good person, his inner voice hissed.
"Why did you change?"
The question hit Haru like a physical blow. It wasn't a threat; it was a plea filled with a deep, agonizing pain.
Min-hyuk's hand moved, his fingers trembling as they cupped Haru's face his touch was surprisingly gentle. Haru looked away, his jaw tightening, trying to create distance between them even as they were so close.
"I know I'm not good enough," Min-hyuk sobbed, the sound raw and unexpected. He buried his head in the crook of Haru's neck, his hot tears dampening Haru's skin. "But… you don't have to look at me like I'm a stranger. Please."
Haru sat there, stunned into a terrifying silence. The words filling his ear didn't belong to the Haru he was now. They belonged to the old Haru - the one who had a history with this man, a history that clearly went far beyond what he could imagine.
"We can start over," Min-hyuk said suddenly, his voice thick with a desperate hope.
Haru felt his chest tighten, a strange, suffocating sensation.
"I can do better!" Min-hyuk propped himself up on his elbows, forcing Haru to lock eyes with him. His face was a wreckage of emotion, his eyes swimming with unshed tears the mask of the gangster completely shattered. "I can treat you better. I'll do anything. Just... don't leave me. Don't look at me with that coldness anymore."
Min-hyuk started to lean down his intent clear, his movements slow and agonizingly deliberate. He wanted to close the gap, to reclaim something he thought he had lost.
Haru didn't hesitate this time. He used the leverage of his legs to buck upward, prying Min-hyuk's grip loose and rolling out from under him in one fluid, practiced motion. He scrambled to his feet, his heart hammering against his ribs.
He stood at the foot of the bed, looking down at the man who was now curled into a ball, weeping silently into the pillows.
"I am not the same Haru," he told him, his voice firm, echoing with the authority of Sunghoon. It was the only truth he could give him - a truth that was both a confession and a rejection. "That person is gone."
He didn't wait for a response. He didn't look back to see if Min-hyuk tried to follow. He turned and walked out of the bedroom, through the living room, and out the front door.
Inside the room, Min-hyuk tried to follow. He rolled off the bed, his feet tangling as he staggered out the bedroom. He stumbled, hitting the floor with a dull thud, his fingers reaching out toward the empty doorway. He watched the light from the hall disappear as the door closed, leaving him in the dark silence of a home that felt more like a tomb.
Haru didn't stop until he was back on the street, the cold night air finally filling his lungs. He looked up at the moon, shivering.