Chapter Text
Weeks turned into months, and time passed in what felt like a blink—just one day after the other. Sleep, eat, work, repeat.
It was… kinda boring, if Goo was being honest. It's not that he enjoyed fighting, or killing, or whatever kind of job he could pick up. He’s done it his whole life. It felt like a usual nine-to-five. Nobody was particularly strong enough to give him a challenge. This must be what his Gun felt like constantly.
He didn’t like that he could relate to that weirdo.
Goo couldn’t believe it’s winter now. They came here in the late summer, pretty sure it was August, now it’s almost December, just a few more days. It's been cold for a while, but it hasn’t snowed till now.
Gun was the one who shoved him awake with a foot.
“Goo, up.”
“Don’t wanna,” He practically growled, dragging the pillow over his head like it’d save him.
It never did.
“Goo, it's snowing.” His voice was eager, not quite excited, but something Gun wanted to show him.
Eventually, he groaned and got to his feet, peering out the window with a grimace.
Yes, it was snowing.
“How fun,” He drawled, resting his elbow on Gun’s head. Gun’s eyes were wide and blinking at the white covering the streets and rooftops.
“I wonder if it’ll be any different here than in Japan,” Gun said, turning to look up at him.
“I doubt it. It's just cold.”
“I don’t get why you don’t like the cold.”
“Because it's cold!”
“It doesn’t feel that cold.”
“Says the kid whose body temperature like a hundred or something. Make sure to bundle up, I don’t want you getting sick.”
“I don’t get sick, aniki.” Gun huffed, pulling away from him. He was already dressed for school, his tie hanging loose around his neck.
“Don’t jinx it.” Goo faceplated into his own pillow again. Just a few more minutes… wait a minute. “Gun, where’s your dad?”
“He went on a walk a little while ago.”
“...did he say why?”
“No, just said it’d be good for him.”
“No nightmare or anything?”
“If it was, he wasn’t moving around much during the night.”
Goo stared into space for a while before closing his eyes again. That guy could take care of himself. He shouldn’t worry. As long as the hulk didn’t get spotted, it should be fine.
“Don’t you have work…?” Gun was nudging him with his foot. Goo swatted at it with one hand.
“Nope, someone picked up my shift.”
“Aren’t we supposed to be making money?”
“I am making money.”
“No, you're sleeping.”
“I don’t remember you being this naggy.”
“I learned from the best.”
“Who are you calling naggy?” Goo quipped, sitting up. He probably wasn’t going back to sleep at this rate.
Gun didn’t reply, instead choosing to stare at him.
Goo narrowed his eyes. This kid wanted something.
“…breakfast?” He tried; they had eggs and rice, and he could make something easy.
Gun didn’t respond. His head turned towards the door he was standing next to.
“…no, I don’t want to go out!”
“Let’s go out, I want to see it.”
"Go alone!"
"No."
“Shingen’s going to think we’re abducted if we’re not here.”
“I’ll leave a note.”
“We don’t have good winter clothes.”
“I don’t care.”
“I don’t want to go!!”
“I’ll drag you.”
The blonde glared furiously while Gun looked unfazed. This was ridiculous. It was eight thirty in the morning, not a good time to go out into the cold.
Gun didn’t look ready to take no for an answer. So Goo gave up. He groaned softly, turning his face into the pillow one more time before pushing himself up.
“Breakfast first. Have you eaten?” He already walked the couple of feet to the kitchen and opened the fridge, his eyes skimming leftover containers like they offended him somehow. How long could he drag out eating these…?
“…no.”
Goo shot him a look, grabbing the eggs, he’d make something fresh today, or eat leftovers for lunch or dinner. “You need to stop skipping meals.”
“I could say the same to you.” Gun lifted his chin, his nose wrinkling slightly. He looked so high and mighty.
“I eat when I feel like it, can’t say the same for you.”
Goo barked out a laugh when Gun actually made a face at him—a displeased one where his face scrunched up for a split second before returning to normal. Goo decided to be nice and drop it, falling into a comfortable silence. He even ignored Gun when he peeked over his arm to stare at what he was making.
“…can you hurry up?”
Goo felt a vein bulge in his temple—the absolute audacity of this little shit. Goo was going to burn his eggs into charcoal.
~~~
In Gun’s defense, he really should have known Goo would try something as soon as they stepped outside. He’d been bundled as well as he could in a jacket, scarf, and two layers of socks.
You’d think he’d have sensed it when the sudden complaining stopped, the annoyed grumbling, and even the steps trailing behind him as Gun walked down the snow-covered path.
“Hey Gun, look at me for a sec.”
It was a painful sense of Deja vu when he turned around and something cold and white exploded across his face. He might have inhaled some of it, and, to be honest, he was so stunned that he stood there for a solid second, processing what was thrown at him. Melting snow clinging to his face.
Goo was grinning with that overly smug look, smile too big, but at the same time, obviously enjoying himself and the new chaos he’d created. He got his revenge for being dragged outside.
Gun glanced down at the melting flecks of white now covering his scarf, his face stinging faintly from the sudden cold.
“…was that a snowball?” He asked dumbly. Goo was already smooshing together another one. Only when it was being hurled at his head did he think to duck, crouching as it whizzed by him.
Goo had the gall to pout at him, upset at the kid for dodging.
Gun’s seen these, briefly stalking the streets and watching groups of kids build snow walls to defend themselves. Gun didn’t have friends at the time, and he’d get in trouble for joining, so he always trudged back home.
“Stop that, it’s cold!” He snapped, jerking to avoid another snowball.
“I thought it wasn’t that cold.” Goo mocked him, already dunking his hands into the snow.
Gun felt a rush of annoyance light up his veins. Two could play that game. Gun made a… rather sloppy snowball just to chuck it at Goo’s face before the blonde could finish his own. The yowl he got was deeply satisfying when Goo scrambled back.
After that, it was all chaos. Gun lunged behind a wall just before another snowball could hit him. Goo was relentless, but Gun was patient. Waiting and creeping around the buildings until he had gotten behind the blonde who was crouched, making another snowball.
And it was just the opening he needed.
It took a weird kind of concentration not to crush the fragile ball of snow and his hands. He had already failed a few times trying to make one, but he was pretty sure he had it down.
Goo yelled loudly when it hit him, scrambling up and pulling at his shirt with his back arched. Gun was sure snow had gotten down the back of his shirt. Gun grinned maliciously at Goo’s dance and pelted him with another snowball before running.
Goo cursed loudly and gave up with snowballs entirely and just peeled after him.
Gun jerked his hands out of the snow that had piled up against one of the houses and bolted.
He rounded a corner just as Goo went flying past him in an attempted tackle and dove into the snow.
Gun’s snickered, forgetting to run, and that was his last mistake. Goo pushed himself up and whirled at him, and they both went down.
A wail ripped out of him as Goo shoved a bunch of snow down the back of his shirt. The cold was shocking. Gun yanked at his shirt and coat, wriggling like a fish as he tried to get it out.
“Who’s not cold now?” Goo stood up, brushing himself off.
Gun glowered at him, and Goo decided to have mercy. He grabbed Gun under the arm and yanked him up, shaking him roughly, which helped a tad, and then set him down.
“That’s cheating; we were having a snowball fight. You're a sore loser.” Gun stated in a sour tone.
“Ah~? We didn’t list any rules, as far as I know, I didn’t lose at all!” Goo waved his hands with an innocent expression. Gun could see him trying to keep a smile off his face.
He didn’t bother to dignify that comment with a response, giving him a glare with all the salt he could muster. Only to get his hair ruffled, shaking white flecks of it.
“Don’t let your guard down, cub, I’m going to ambush you next time!” Goo said turning around because, apparently, outside time was over.
Gun watched him go with a blank face before crouching, his eyes narrowing.
“You're never going to know what hit yo-“
Gun pelted him with one more snowball before bolting back in the direction of their house, ignoring the shout of outrage that meant he was going to suffer for that later.
Gun’s life was saved because his father had come home, and Gun had barreled into him with a very angry blonde on his heels. Gun used his father as a shield until they both got scolded for dragging snow into the house.
~~~
Goo pretended not to see Gun lurking over his shoulder one morning. He was kind of hard to miss, though, as he was too close for someone who “loved their personal space” and radiated curiosity.
Goo was leaning against the kitchen counter with his elbows propped up on the hard surface, scrolling through bounties.
Gun got tired from circling for two minutes, unable to see, and just wedged himself under Goo’s arm, forcing him to lift it to make room. The kid was getting bold.
“Is that job stuff?” He asked, peering at the screen.
“…yes.”
“You're going to go kill someone?”
“Maybe… depends on the details, and if there’s anything in the area.” Goo tried to lift his arm more to pull the phone away, but Gun yanked it back down.
“Who are you going to kill next?”
“None of your business? Aren’t you meeting up with your little friend today?” Goo was fighting him now, trying to pry his arm out of Gun’s grip, but he made it impossible.
“I have time, I have to wait for the bus. Where did you get the phone anyway?”
“I made a deal with Jinyeong, and I promised to pay him back.”
“What deal?”
“He wanted answers about how I ended up with you two and who I was. I gave them.”
“I bet you did your little vague answer thing.”
“At least I was honest, and he was desperate, paranoid, and so very, very suspicious. I’ve had this for a few months, and I already paid it back.”
“So we’re saving for a new house now?”
“Yup. Amongst other things.”
“Like what?”
“Might get you and Shingen phones. Probably burners. But something you can call with.”
Gun paused for a moment. “Can you get games on them?”
“No, not burners. Maybe when we save enough, we can get smartphones.”
“How long is that going to be?”
Goo thought about it for a moment, letting out a gun. “Maybe a year or two. You get paid well for jobs like these. But we’ve got to prioritize some things over others.”
“So why are you skipping over ones with more money?”
“You’ve got to be careful with the kind of jobs you pick, cub. This is black market and Underworld type stuff.” Goo’s voice turned a bit stern, eyes narrowing. Gun shifted, he could sense the change. Goo softened after a couple of seconds. “Do you know why you shouldn’t pick the most expensive stuff?”
Gun froze; he clearly wasn’t expecting to be quizzed. But he considered it seriously. “…because you shouldn’t make a name for yourself? We’re staying under the radar.”
“I mean, yeah, but there’s another reason.”
The raven pondered on that for a while, staring at the lit-up screen with an amusing amount of concentration. He reached out and tapped one of the bounties to read the details, eyes skimming the words as he scrolled through it. Then something clicked.
“There it is,” Goo said with a smirk.
“It’s suspicious. The person or company who can pay that much money for something simple like killing someone-“ Gun tapped the screen. “-can also have just as much to lose. They can hire you to cover their tracks, but if they're smart, they won’t leave any open ends, so it’s better to kill the person you hire too.”
Goo barked out a laugh and ruffled his hair. “That’s right! Smart kid, I guess being a yakuza taught you a few good life lessons.”
Gun batted his hands away, annoyed, but his eyes were still glued to his phone.
“…how old do you have to be to get on there?”
He stopped cold at that. His entire demeanor shifted. Gun sensed it, leaning away from the look at his face.
Goo didn’t even need to grace that question with an answer for Gun to know he would never be touching this line of work as long as Goo lived.
“…I want to make money too…” Gun mumbled, looking away. Goo didn’t get like this very often, and it was unnerving. The expression, the silence, the way he could convey everything with just one look, that made the hair on his arms stand up.
Goo took in a breath, calming down unwanted emotions, and rested a hand on Gun’s head. He needed to calm down; that was scary.
“Maybe when you turn fifteen or sixteen, you can get a part-time job, but you have to stick with school, get your diploma. That’s a must.”
“I could do both.”
“I don’t want you to kill people. I don’t want you to be around that kind of stuff.”
“Killing people is the reason I was born. To fight, lead, you know…”
Goo frowned. They’ve had this conversation several times. Gun isn’t good at changing; he’ll get there.
“There’s more to life than fighting. And I’m going to show you that.” His voice was soft when he spoke again. Sometimes he doubted whether his actions would change anything at all, given that fighting was in Gun’s blood. It felt like he had nothing to go on; all he could do was remind himself that change takes time. Goo had time.
For now, that was good enough.
~~~
The worst part of winter was the nights. They bothered him, until they didn’t, and now they were back again.
Back when he was loaded, he could crank the heat up, take a warm bubble bath with a nice cool face mask, put on a fuzzy robe, and curl under a mountain of blankets in a king-sized bed, watching TV until he passed out.
God, what he wouldn’t give to have it back.
Now he was stuck in a cramped house that was more like a shack, under a threadbare blanket with two people beside him. His feet were freezing, and his only source of warmth was Gun.
He was always done with this stupid reason. His complaining wasn’t going to make this better.
It was eleven pm by now, and he’s been lying awake for hours, glaring at the ceiling. He was fed up, and it wasn’t even January yet. He was going to make it. His skin was already drying out. It was unacceptable when he couldn’t buy moisturizer.
Goo shot up, turning his head to glance at Gun, no, past him to the giant furnace asleep next to him.
Desperate times call for desperate measures.
There was no way to switch without waking Gun up, so just abandoned any form of sneakiness.
Goo easily slid his arms under the boy and pulled Gun to his other side, immediately going to take his spot.
Gun’s eyes shot open, bleary and confused, like there was some disturbance in the force.
Gun’s eyes narrowed at the ceiling, then he turned his head right to where Goo should have been, but now wasn’t.
The light from the porch light that shone through the window made Gun’s look of absolute betrayal clear as day.
“What are you doing?” Gun asked in the most accusing tone possible.
“I’m cold.”
“The middle is my spot.”
Goo stuck his tongue out, letting Gun be salty. He pointed to Shingen, who might be asleep, but might not be. “He’s warmer and bigger than you. I’m freezing.”
“But it’s my spot…” Gun pursed his lips together.
Goo grinned, oh my god, Gun was pouting like a full-on pout. He looked so unhappy.
It was too much. Goo snatched him around the neck and hugged him tightly. He had gotten a lot less clingy now that Gun was 92% socialized to his antics, but what could he do when Gun Park of all people was pouting at him? Because Goo stole his spot!!
Gun sulked in his arm, shoving half-heartedly at him, but didn’t pull away.
“I’ll give it back when it starts getting warmer,” Goo whispered, still trying to be quiet and patting his head playfully, a gesture meant to be annoying.
“You don’t even like being this close to him!!” Gun hissed back.
“Yeah, I know, I have attachment issues, leave me alone. Desperate times call for desperate measures.”
Their hushed whispering was interrupted by the heavy thud of a fist landing above their heads, causing Goo to jump and Gun to stiffen.
Shingen had one eye open, a white eye staring daggers at them. The message was clear: he wanted them to shut up and let him sleep.
Not wanting to risk his wrath at eleven thirty at night, they both settled down.
What was the saying, Don’t poke the bear?
Gun flipped a couple of times before turning towards him and closing his eyes, shifting every now and then. Goo felt a little bad knowing it would take a while for him to fall asleep.
Not that bad, though; he didn’t have that problem, and he was already warmer!
~~~
Gun had already learned this lesson months ago when Goo had started trailing him outside back in Japan.
Shingen had yet to experience it.
Gun had warned him when he heard both of them were going to the market, Shingen just hummed his acknowledgment.
Gun had said something about not looking away from Goo or else he’d vanish. With how loud the blonde was, Shingen doubted it.
They were both looking at vegetables, or at least he thought they were, because as soon as Goo was out of his peripheral vision, he disappeared. Not like Shingen watched him pull away. Just straight up gone like he was never there in the first place, and some woman had taken his spot.
Shingen blinked once, then twice, wondering if the stress was finally making him hallucinate.
It took a few minutes to find him; he was four stalls down, staring at a watch with a thoughtful expression.
For a minute, Shingen thought he’d been kidnapped or something, but he was fine.
“Oh… hey.” Goo looked at him nonchalantly then went back to staring. Shingen could see the gears turning in his head as he considered whether they could afford it. The answer was no.
“I was just looking,” Goo explained, he definitely hadn’t been, and they both knew it.
“Uh huh.” He said back, disbelievingly, and nudged him away from the stall.
Shingen thought that’d be the end of it.
It wasn’t.
Shingen lost him again, not even six minutes later. Once again, standing in front of something absolutely meaningless, and they couldn’t afford, but was a little shiny.
“…what?” Goo was oblivious to the fact that Shingen had been looking for him.
He exhaled softly through his nose and herded him away again.
Shingen was now actively keeping an eye on him. You’d think it’d be easy, he had bleached blonde hair, albeit the roots growing out more now.
But no.
Shingen stopped to negotiate over new silverware. They had broken a lot of theirs, the boys' fault, of course. But he made the mistake of turning his back.
Andddddd now Goo was gone again.
It took ten minutes of wandering to find him again. Looking at hair dye products.
Goo glanced up at him and set down a bottle of navy blue, presumably for Gun.
“Hey Ahjussi, let me get some bleach again, my roots are growing out.”
Shingen relented after some negotiating and let him. He hoped that now that Goo got something he wanted, he would stop wandering off.
It didn’t.
It happened two more times, and Shingen was growing increasingly frustrated with this. It was ridiculous. Shingen grabbed the back of Goo’s coat and dragged him away from a window, peering into a store and kitchen knives.
“What’s up with you? You're looking salty.”
“Stop wandering off,” Shingen said sternly, having yet to let him go.
“I’m not wandering off, you are!”
That’s when Shingen stopped responding.
Shingen caught him in the act next time. Jerking his head around and grabbing the end of his scarf, he yanked him backwards. It earned a yelp and an annoyed look.
“Stop it.”
“Stop what?!”
Shingen was already done with this.
By the time they got back, Gun was studying, always studying that boy. Gun glanced up at his father's face.
“How’d it go…?”
“It went great! I got some bleach so I can do my hair again!” Goo held up the bag, but Gun was only half paying attention, gaze fixed on his father.
Shingen didn’t bother to respond with words, just gave him a tired look that said it was ten thirty and Shingen was already done with today. He caught Gun’s lips twisting into what might have been a smile.
“You gotta hold onto his sleeve or something,” Gun explained, his tone was light, sounding vaguely amused. “I told you not to take your eyes off of him.
Shingen sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose while Goo was talking about something random.
He should have listened.
~~~
“Gun. Need anything while I’m out?”
“No.”
“…”
“…”
“Mechanical pencils.”
“What happened to the last one I gave you…?”
“Used all the lead. When are you going to be back?” Gun glanced at him; it was two in the afternoon.
“I don’t know, it depends on how fast I can get this done.” Goo shrugged, pulling his shoes on by the door.
“Oyaji, need anything?”
“Soy sauce and fish sauce,” Shingen said, glancing at the oddly placed, incredibly smug look on Goo’s face after Shingen checked the cupboards. Then froze when he caught the nickname.
“Alright, see you later.”
Shingen heard the door shut, but he still didn’t move.
Goo had called him “Oyaji”. Shingen thought about that for a second before turning to stare at Gun, who looked away too fast to be normal when they made eye contact.
The silence was painful. Gun flipped back and forth between pages he had already mostly memorized in his notebook.
“Gun.” Shingen started, turning to face the boy fully.
“Hm?” The boy said, still not looking at him.
“What’d you tell him Oyaji means?”
“Did he call you that?” Gun said, playing dumb before he realized it was a little too dumb.
Shingen didn’t say anything, but his gaze was withering.
“…I told him it was an informal or casual way of saying old man,” Gun said quietly, as he was rubbing the corner of a page between his index finger and his thumb. “I didn’t lie.”
“Did you tell me what else it means…?”
Gun didn’t respond for a couple of seconds. “No…”
Gun finally met his gaze for a couple of seconds, trying to hold it bravely before dropping it. “Are you going to tell him?”
Shingen’s lips quirked up, and he walked over, crouching to his height.
Ah, he made the wrong expression. Gun thought he was in trouble.
Shingen thought about trying to force a smile, but the last time he had done that, Gun had gone from confused to mildly disturbed.
So he reached over and carded his one hand through Gun’s hair, a gesture to show he wasn’t in trouble.
“What’d he do this time?”
Gun perked up, shoulders untensing, then he huffed, looking annoyed.
“He stole my spot.”
“I noticed someone keeps kicking me awake with cold feet.”
“I don’t kick.”
“No you don’t.”
“So now you're pranking him.”
“Yes.”
“Are you ever going to tell him?”
“Are you?”
“…I’m a little curious to see how long it’ll take for him to learn what it means.”
“I bet he’ll be mortified.”
“He probably will.”
“He’ll bury me six feet under.”
“I hope it’s worth it.”
“It definitely is. I can imagine it. He’ll be red in the face.” Gun said with no ounce of hesitation, he was smirking.
Shingen smiled back, a small one. It was funny to see Gun pranking Goo. Unnatural, but it was new—a good kind of new. Gun was acting his age. Shingen stood back up.
“I’ll come to your funeral.”
“If they ever find my body.”
Shingen huffed out a laugh.
In the end, they made a bet to see how long it would take. Both of them could keep their mouths shut, and they were in it for the long game. Gun said two years, Shingen bet more than three. The loser had to do whatever the winner said.
Spoiler alert, they both dragged this out for years before he ever found out.