Archive of Our Own

Don’t look back.

It might’ve been his own words and his own decision, but that didn’t mean that Ga-on felt any better as he trudged out of the Kang’s mansion and towards his apartment. It stung like a dagger plunged right into his heart, making his whole body throb with indescribable pain. But if he’d made his choice, then he didn’t have the right to take those devastating words back.

Feet dragging against uneven asphalt, grey clouds looming over his head like a storm threatening to approach any second. Ga-on let them hang.

Soo-hyun is my world, he’d said just moments ago, and ever since then, the words had been haunting his mind like a demon taunting him. How Yo-han’s gaze had gone dark, how his hand on Ga-on’s shoulder had lost its strength, how he’d stood there and watched without a word as the person he’d grown to trust had walked away from him.

Ga-on would never forget the look of aching hurt on his chief’s face. A selfish part of him had hoped that the other would chase after him, yet he also knew that Yo-han would’ve, no doubt, respected his choice and let him go.

“Ha,” he sighed as his footsteps came to a stop in the middle of the road and he looked up, staring at the gloomy heavens. What had he done? Would they ever be able to go back to what they used to be?

Soo-hyun was---no, had been his world. But now his world had erupted from a monotone into a flurry of colours. And the best friend that he’d known for as long as he could remember was still a part of his world --- a significant one, at that --- but no longer what encompassed all of it.

Yo-han, the name surfaced in his head, Elijah. Two strangers who’d somehow wormed their way into his life, and only now did he realise how empty it felt now that they were gone. In hindsight, if he’d pondered Yo-han’s words a little more, he might’ve responded in a way that would’ve left him with no regrets.

But in the heat of the moment, Ga-on had been afraid. He’d feared that if he picked a side, he’d lose the other, and he was far from ready to lose someone who’d been a constant in his life. And out of that fear, he’d turned a blind eye to any possible third option and retreated to what he was familiar with. Whom he was familiar with.

“Ah,” he exhaled again, wiping the tears off his lashes before they could begin to flow. He shouldn’t be the one crying. He shouldn’t be the one wishing that he could turn back time and fix something, just anything, that would lead the present down another path. He shouldn’t be even glancing back at the home that he’d just walked out of. But Ga-on couldn’t stop himself.

“Are you leaving for real?” Elijah had asked him at the verge of tears, and Ga-on had a sudden urge to take his clothes back out of his bag and stay by her (and Yo-han’s) side.

But that would have been wrong. After everything he’d just done, what gave him the right to take back his words? What gave him the right to stay in the home after he’d hurt the people who’d cared for him, the people who’d slowly but surely become his family?

Just deal with it, he told himself, forcing himself to continue walking. You’ll get over it eventually.

(Ga-on knew that he wouldn’t. But he didn’t know what else he could do either.)

“Drink up,” Soo-hyun instructed, passing a glass of water to Ga-on and taking a seat next to him.

Quietly, Ga-on obeyed. Hours had done nothing to lessen the guilt and regret that was clawing at his heart, chiding him for making a rash decision and having the gall to mope over it when those that he’d left were probably having it much worse.

Noticing his miserable state, his best friend sighed. “You made the right choice,” she tried to assure him, giving him a gentle pat on the back. “Elijah will understand.”

Ga-on didn’t respond, only kept his lips on the rim of the glass, sipping slowly.

Soo-hyun had been the first that he’d called once he’d gotten far enough from the mansion. He didn’t trust anyone else, after all. And though she’d been upset with him over Minister Cha’s death, she’d nevertheless come to take care of him, just like she’d always done.

The woman snaked an arm around his shoulders. “I get that it’s hard,” she continued, patting his arm like a mother consoling her child. “But if you’d stayed any longer, he would’ve ruined you.”

I don’t care, a small and stubborn bit of Ga-on’s thoughts piped up in the mess that his headspace was. He can ruin me. Yet, knowing that he’d be in for nothing but a scolding, he didn’t dare to voice those words.

As silence befell the two of them once more, Soo-hyun reached for the television remote, turning the news on. The blank display changed into a newscaster relaying the latest updates to the public. It was the same old, same old, things about the Foundation and whatnot.

What caught Ga-on’s attention, however, was the line of words at the bottom of the screen:

ALERT: Medical professionals raise suspicions of a virus outbreak, advising the public to avoid large social gatherings until further notice.

Ga-on frowned slightly, glancing at Soo-hyun, who didn’t seem to be paying attention to that tidbit of information. Not that it mattered, though, because he was pretty sure that this was just another part of Heo Joong-se and his group’s scheme.

Except that this time, as if on cue, the newscaster began to talk about that story and presented footage on the screen. From the corner of his eye, Ga-on could see Soo-hyun’s expression changing. He turned his attention to the screen, watching as several people in personal protective equipment were holding back a person who looked...in a terrible state, to put it at the very least.

“This is the seventh case since the virus was discovered,” the newscaster explained as the scene shrank to a part of the overall display. “Medical professionals have been consulted, but they have yet to figure out the cause. The public is advised to stay indoors as much as possible and visit a doctor if unwell.”

Though the newscaster was still speaking, Ga-on’s attention remained on the footage that was being shown. The restrained person looked far from normal --- his eyes were bloodshot and his veins were popping out of his skin. It was hard to note the fine details without being there in person, but more alarming was how he moved in jerking and aggressive movements, growling inhumanely at the people who were holding him in place.

Ga-on felt a shiver shot down his spine. He was most definitely going to try and stay indoors.

“Some of us at the station were called for back-up earlier,” he heard Soo-hyun tell him and he looked at her, seeing the worry in her gaze even as she didn’t take her eyes off the screen. “I didn’t realise that it was that severe...”

“Huh,” the man made a soft sound, unsure what to think. If this was all a ruse, then the President’s group had way too much money to spare.

Soo-hyun took the remote again, turning the television off. “Don’t worry about it, though. You have enough on your plate.” She took his empty glass of water, standing up to head to the kitchen. “Just take care of yourself first. I’ll figure out what’s going on.”

Soo-hyun left before midnight and Ga-on found himself seated on his bed, staring at his phone. Or to be more specific, at a certain contact. He had no doubt that Yo-han had already watched the news, or at the very least, was aware of that strange incident with the virus. Ga-on wondered what he thought about it.

For a good few seconds, his finger lingered over the button to call the man. What if Yo-han didn’t want to speak to him? He would totally understand that --- if he were Yo-han, he wouldn’t pick up the call either --- but it’d still feel a little...painful. And it was hard to deny any longer that part of him longed to hear the other’s voice, just to know that they hadn’t fallen back to strangers.

Maybe he was being too melodramatic. After all, they were still co-workers and would be seeing each other at the courthouse pretty often. His phone screen dimmed as part of the auto-lock system and Ga-on finally mustered the courage to call his chief. He held his breath as he heard the phone beginning to ring.

Yo-han didn’t pick up.

Consoling himself with the belief that the older man was busy, Ga-on tried again five minutes later, only to receive the same result. His thoughts uncontrollably went to the worst possible explanation that he could conceive --- that Yo-han didn’t want to talk to him anymore.

And as much as he believed that he deserved it, it still made him feel empty. Ga-on switched his phone off and kept it aside, turning onto his side in bed and covering himself with his blanket. He didn’t know exactly how long it took, but he knew that he didn’t fall asleep until much later.

Light beamed in the hallways as Ga-on made his way to his chief’s office the next morning. It’d been a terrible night’s rest --- if it could even be considered rest at all --- and Ga-on had plenty of thoughts flooding his mind, like water waiting to burst through a dam. Thoughts about the virus, thoughts about the man on the news, and as much as he tried to shut them out, thoughts about Kang Yo-han.

“Come in,” he heard after three knocks and he slowly opened the door, peeking inside.

Seated at his desk, Yo-han’s eyes barely flickered up. “What are you doing here?” he asked without looking from his work as Ga-on quietly closed the door and walked over.

“I wanted to talk to you,” Ga-on settled on a simple answer.

For a moment so brief that he might’ve imagined it all, Yo-han’s stern expression softened. “What is it?”

“The virus,” the associate judge replied promptly, “and yesterday’s news.”

“You watched it too,” Yo-han concluded.

Ga-on nodded, standing in front of his chief’s desk. “Do you think,” he asked, words measured with caution, “that it’s part of the plot?”

Contemplation gleamed over the older man’s face and Ga-on observed him in silence. “I’m doubtful,” Yo-han finally said, letting out a shallow sigh. “It seems a bit too far of a stretch for them to be faking it to this extent.” He tapped his pen restlessly against the file on his desk. “Did your cop friend say anything?”

“Only that they’d received a call at the station and that she hadn’t realised how severe it was.”

“I see, I see,” Yo-han mumbled, turning to look out of the window. Ga-on followed his gaze, noticing Jin-joo on the billboard, talking about the virus.

“They dragged her into it,” he stated, sounding a little disdainful. Jin-joo was his fellow associate judge in the court show, but sometimes, he worried that he and Yo-han leaving her out of their dangerous work would only backfire on the ambitious young woman.

“Mm,” the other only hummed in agreement.

Voice laced with conviction and urgency, Ga-on declared, “We need to expose them.”

But Yo-han looked sceptical. “When we figure out what’s going on, that is. I don’t think Jung Sun-ah is stupid enough to go along with a crazy plan like whatever this is.”

“They could do it without her,” the younger pointed out.

Yo-han shook his head. “She would’ve said something by now.”

Glancing at the billboard which had changed to a different display, Ga-on asked, “Then---”

He was cut off by a loud screech and both he and Yo-han immediately looked in the direction of the disturbance, which’d come from outside the office. Slowly, the latter stood up and Ga-on followed him to the door.

To say that it’d been ear-piercing would be an understatement. Not only was it shrill, but Ga-on could tell that it wasn’t a sound of surprise but of pain, like the cry of a prisoner being tortured. “Did something happen?” Ga-on asked without thinking.

Yo-Han paced quickly through the hallway, not sparing Ga-on a glimpse. “You ask as if I’d know.”

Without any more words exchanged, they followed the people who’d come out of their various offices to find out what was going on. And when they finally made it to where a crowd had formed, Ga-on nudged his way to the front and froze.

What. The. Fuck.

A head snapped violently in his direction and his gaze met that of a young woman who was pinned to the ground. She was one of the people who worked for the security office, he recognised in a glance, but she looked strikingly different.

Her arms were bruised with dark blue veins protruded out of her cracked skin and her eyes had been completely fogged into a dirty white colour, with the exception of the bluish cracks branching out from behind her eye sockets. If Ga-on looked closely enough, he’d have seen the dark fluid pooling in the woman’s half-opened mouth, slowly dripping off her lips.

Everything about the way she glared at Ga-on screamed bloodlust, especially as she began to thrash around as if she were trying to get close enough to maul him. Ga-on wanted to scream, but he couldn’t find his voice. Instead, he took an unsteady step back, then another, and another, until he bumped into someone’s chest and felt a pair of strong arms gripping his shoulders.

“Judge Kim, don’t look any more.”

Ga-on turned his head to see Yo-han looking at him. The man’s expression was unbelievably calm, despite the chaos that’d overtaken the atmosphere. How could someone be so indifferent after witnessing that horror? But it gave Ga-on comfort, even if just a little, and so he did as he was told.

“It’s real,” he realised aloud, looking fearfully at his chief because no sane person could possibly be fine after seeing that. “The virus, it’s---”

“Kim Ga-on,” Yo-han spoke his name firmly, “let’s go.” With one arm still on Ga-on’s shoulder, he led the younger judge away, guiding the two of them back to his office.

The moment they’d reached, Ga-on felt his phone buzzing in his pocket. He answered the call in spite of his hands still trembling.

“Ga-on-ah! Are you okay?” a frantic voice came from the other side of the line.

“S-Soo-hyun-ah...” Ga-on stammered, side-eyeing Yo-han, who’d gone to stand by the glass and was looking out at the city. “I’m fine...”

He heard his best friend heave a loud sigh of relief. “Thank goodness,” she said. “I heard about what happened. Stay in your office until they’re gone, okay? And go home as soon as you’re done with your work. I’ll come over to check on you tonight.”

“You too,” Ga-on found enough of his voice to reply. Once the two had said their goodbyes, the call ended.

There was a long pause as Ga-on joined his senior by the window. He didn’t like the unnerving silence but at the same time, he wasn’t sure what to say. He could try and assure the other, except that he didn’t think that Yo-han needed any assurance now and it was pretty much the contrary. He could ask about what they’d do, but after seeing that, it didn’t feel right to speak of it so soon. Thankfully, Yo-han broke the ice first.

“Are you feeling fine?” he asked.

Ga-on tensed up. “No,” he croaked.

Yo-han didn’t respond, not that Ga-on had expected much because he knew that the older man wasn’t good at comforting others. Ga-on fidgeted with the hem of his blazer, a flurry of thoughts in his head. What exactly was going on? Why had that woman seemed like she’d lost her mind, literally? And did this have something to do with the President’s group?

“You can get off work early if you need to,” Yo-han offered after a while, noticing that Ga-on hadn’t spoken in nearly half a minute.

However, Ga-on shook his head. He didn’t provide a reason for his decision, but his traitorous heart had urged him to stay with Yo-han for as long as he could, where he’d somehow feel safe amidst this mess. Although, he doubted that Yo-han would appreciate his presence after what had transpired no more than a day ago.

“If you wish.” Yo-han returned to his seat, going back to looking through his files.

Ga-on, on the other hand, didn’t move.

“...Do you plan to stand there for the rest of the day?”

Maybe, Ga-on thought. “No,” he said instead.

He started heading to the door, only to catch himself midway and turn around. “Chief,” he said, and the man looked up, “can I stay here until lunch?”

A fleeting expression of surprise crossed Yo-han’s face. Ga-on braced himself for a rejection, only to hear the other sigh, gesturing to a stack of files on the desk. “If you’re going to, then you might as well make yourself useful.”

Ga-on flashed a half-hearted but grateful smile. “I will.”

Cases of the unknown virus, first discovered three days ago, are on the rise. Medical professionals call it the Plague but have yet to find a treatment or cure for it. The death toll is on the rise but authorities will not disclose the exact figures until they have been confirmed. However, what has been revealed is that there are likely to be several undetected cases in the community and that the virus spreads through bodily fluids. Symptoms manifest within a day and vary randomly from person to person. Should you require any assistance, do not hesitate to call the police.

The public is advised to stay at home and visit a doctor if the following early symptoms are exhibited or if close contact has been made with an infected individual:

• Severe nosebleeds
• Irritability and aggression
• Headaches or migraines
• Darkened veins visible under skin
• Strangely coloured blood

More updates will be available shortly. Please refrain from attending social gatherings and remember to remain calm. Do not interact with any individual who appears to be undergoing the mentioned symptoms. Instead, inform the police where you are and keep your distance. We have made it through one pandemic and we can do it again.

Source: http://www.koreanewstoday.com

When Ga-on opened his eyes in the wee hours of the morning, the first thing he noticed was that he wasn’t at home. His bones were stiff and his legs were numb as he stood up, glancing around his dark office. Oh, he realised. He’d ended up falling asleep before he could go home.

He checked his phone, noticing several missed calls from Soo-hyun and some urgent text messages asking him where he was and why he wasn’t answering his door. Oh, of all days that security could miss somebody staying over, it just had to be this night.

“Soo-hyun-ah,” he said groggily as soon as she picked up the call.

“Kim Ga-on! Where are you?! Why didn’t you come home?!” Soo-hyun immediately started firing words at him, clearly concerned and upset.

Stealing a glance at the clock on one of the walls, Ga-on noted that it was just a little past five in the morning. “Sorry,” he apologised, running his fingers through his hair and combing it back. “I fell asleep at the office.”

“You need to come back to your apartment,” the woman continued. “The news just came out a few minutes ago and the situation’s worse than I thought.”

“How much?”

Soo-hyun clicked her tongue. “Everyone’s started to panic and is trying to leave the city, but it seems like Seoul is in lockdown.”

“What the hell,” Ga-on muttered, gathering his belongings and whatever else he thought he might need. “Where are you now?”

“Outside your apartment,” his friend replied.

Ga-on held the phone between his shoulder and his ear. “What about your family?” he asked.

The line went abruptly silent and when Soo-hyun spoke again, her voice was strained. “They’re gone,” she said.

The man halted his footsteps. “What?”

“They’re gone, Ga-on. I woke up this morning to screams and when I went downstairs, my parents were tearing each other’s skin out. Literally. I barely managed to leave the house without them noticing...”

“Soo-hyun-ah,” Ga-on exhaled softly, feeling his heart clench.

His childhood friend’s parents might never have been that fond of him because of his delinquent ways at some point in time, but they’d still looked after him whenever he’d stayed over at their house.

“I’m coming back,” he told her. “Just stay there and lock the door, and don’t open it until I call you again.”

He heard a soft sound of acknowledgement and hung up on the call, just in time to hear a click and feel something pressing against the back of his skull.

It didn’t take him more than three seconds to figure out that it was the barrel of a gun and that he was now at the mercy of whoever had just entered his office. He hadn’t expected that anyone would still be at the office at this time, besides the security guards who definitely wouldn’t be pointing a gun at his head.

Ah, just his luck. Perhaps he shouldn’t have faced his back to the door.

“Drop his belongings and raise your hands up,” a cold voice instructed.

His belongings? Well, maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched for someone to mistake him for a thief when he could barely make out his close surroundings in the current darkness. But the voice that came with the warning was one that he’d recognise anytime.

“Chief?” he said quietly, his grip tightening on his phone.

There was a beat of silence and Ga-on worried that he’d been wrong, until the pressure on his head was lifted and he heard a familiar sigh.

“Judge Kim,” the other said, “what are you doing here?”

Ga-on turned around to see his chief looking at him, pistol in hand. Unlike his usual office attire, Yo-han was only in a casual turtleneck sweater and long pants, with an oversized blazer over his outfit, as if he’d come here not for reasons other than work. His hair was down and a little messy, like he’d bolted out of bed and left the house with no time to tidy up his appearance.

“I was here the whole night,” Ga-on answered. “What are you doing here?”

Yo-han seemed to hesitate for a moment before saying, “I was looking for something.”

“Oh,” the younger judge breathed. “Did you find it?”

His eyes met his senior’s for a heartbeat that felt way longer than that. “Yeah,” Yo-han said without breaking eye contact, “I did.”

Quiet again, and then Ga-on asked, “Do you know what’s happening out there?”

Yo-han exhaled sharply. “How could I not?” He turned around, beckoning for Ga-on to come with him as he started walking to the door. “Let’s go,” he said, leaving no room for argument.

“Where?” Ga-on followed him.

“Back to the mansion.” Yo-han opened the door, holding it for Ga-on and letting it shut by itself once they were out of the room. “Why, do you have somewhere else you need to be?”

“Soo-hyun’s waiting at my apartment,” Ga-on told him. “Her family’s gone and she doesn’t have anyone else.”

There was uncertainty written all over Yo-han’s face but the man only sighed again. “She can come along,” he relented, causing Ga-on to smile in relief. At least this time, he didn’t have to choose a side. Maybe for once, even in this situation that he’d rather not have, Yo-han and Soo-hyun would get along.

On the ride back to his apartment to pick Soo-hyun up, Ga-on learnt that the city was now in a state of havoc. The media had ceased reporting anything and the last thing that had been made known to the public was that Daegu was the only safe city left in the whole of Korea, with all others having at least one case and with the virus rapidly spreading to increase the numbers. In fact, it was hard to tell if the virus had spread outside of Korea, or if it’d even come from beyond the borders.

But the problem was that all public transportation had ceased and every city had shut its borders, unwilling to let cases escalate. Which meant that it was near impossible to make it to Daegu, which was rumoured to be guarding its borders so strictly that it’d shoot down any threats who got too close. Yo-han claimed that they’d find a way to get there, but truth to be told, as much as he didn’t like to doubt his chief, Ga-on worried that they wouldn’t make it before the virus got to them.

According to Yo-han, the housekeeper had been fortunate enough to find herself in Daegu when the lockdowns began, having gone to see her family there for the weekend. And with that, she was keeping in contact with the Kangs to provide any information necessary about the safe city. It was through her that Yo-han had discovered that all public train services to Daegu had been terminated the moment the virus was detected in the country and so it’d be hard to get there without a willing train operator.

As they travelled along the road, Ga-on saw bodies littering the streets, many of which were disfigured beyond recognition. It was a gruesome sight and he shuddered when he made eye contact with one of the infected people loitering around and the said person came running at the car, leaving stains of fresh blood on the window before falling away. It happened multiple times up to the point that Ga-on stopped looking out the window completely and instead opted to keep his eyes on the vehicle’s dashboard all the way to his apartment.

Fortunately for him, there weren’t any infected individuals in that area, though there were some dead bodies around. Ga-on tried his best not to look at any of them and when he made it to his doorstep, he heaved a huge sigh of relief.

“Are you sure we can trust him?” Soo-hyun whispered to her best friend when he led her to Yo-han’s black SUV by the roadside.

“I trust him,” Ga-on answered. And, albeit reluctantly, Soo-hyun eventually got into the car.

It wasn’t just because having Yo-han as an ally was probably the best way for Ga-on to survive for as long as he could. It was also a chance for him to return to Yo-han’s side, maybe finding a way to mend the relationship that he’d regretfully broken. Soo-hyun didn’t have to know that, though. Ga-on was sure that if she knew his intentions, she’d definitely want out because she’d never had a good impression of Yo-han in the first place.

The trio were awkwardly quiet on the way to the mansion, unlike the ride to the apartment where there was hardly a point in time that neither Yo-han nor Ga-on had something to say. Soo-hyun looked wary and kept glancing at Yo-han, who seemed to notice but pretended that he didn’t or simply didn’t care.

When they arrived at the house, Ga-on was relieved to see Elijah again and despite their clash a few days ago, the girl on the wheelchair looked pleased to see him as well. Besides Elijah, K was also at the mansion. Ga-on had rarely spoken to him but he did know that the man was rather close to Yo-han, even if they labelled their relationship as “strictly business”.

“So what happens now?” Soo-hyun queried, sounding more hopeless than anything else. She’d lost her family in a day so that wasn’t unusual of her and sensing that mood, the others were relatively on edge.

“There’s no way out of the country at the moment,” Yo-han stated bluntly, plopping himself down on the couch. “Trains have been shut down and much less, airplanes.”

“No shit,” Elijah mumbled, a frown on her face directed at no one in particular and just at the circumstances. “But we can’t survive if we just stay here.”

Yo-han drummed his fingers against the handrest of the couch. “The only place we can escape to is Daegu and if there aren’t any public train operators willing to take us there, then we’ll have to find someone who can take the job.”

“Someone who’d take us there?” Ga-on repeated, appearing sceptical. “If anyone’s willing, I’m sure they’d already be gone.”

“What he said,” Soo-hyun agreed, leaning against a wall with her arms folded. “Plus even if we could make it onto a train, it wouldn’t mean that we’d be safe. I’m sure plenty of people would have the same idea.”

Yo-han sighed. “It’s not that easy for just anyone to find a train that’ll go there. And if anything...the only ones who’d be able to command a train service at will wouldn’t allow people to tag along.”

“Heo Joong-se and his group,” Ga-on guessed, to which the older man nodded. “As soon as the railway is back up and running enough to operate a train, they’ll definitely be on their way out.”

“Of course they would,” Yo-han scoffed, as if a bad memory had resurfaced in his head.

At that moment, K, who’d been relatively silent through the discussion, finally spoke. “Even with a train running, it’ll be a challenge to board it safely.”

“What do you mean?” Soo-hyun asked.

“I went to the station to take a look last night,” he explained. “It’s more crowded than I’ve ever seen it be. By the time we’re able to get a train to leave, most of those people gathered there will be infected and it’d be hard to get on board without coming into contact with them.”

“They’ll be a problem,” the policewoman lamented. “The Infected, I mean. That’s what we called them at the station. But still...it’s worth a shot. Anything’s better than doing nothing.”

Leaning forward and clasping his fingers together, Yo-han said, “We’re getting ahead of ourselves, aren’t we? We’ve yet to figure out where we’ll get a train. I may have connections, but a train conductor isn’t one of them.”

“And what if we could make use of someone else’s connections?” Ga-on suggested.

Soo-hyun’s eyes widened. “Surely you don’t mean...”

“Heo Joong-se,” Ga-on clarified, confirming her suspicion.

The woman looked apprehensive. Yo-han, however, looked pleased.

“You read my mind,” he said with a sly smile that sent a proud flutter through Ga-on’s chest. “We’ll pay them a visit tomorrow. I’ve got a good idea of where they’re hiding.”

The group of five spent the rest of the afternoon in the house. It had, after all, been a traumatising day for some of them, especially the one who’d lost her family. Elijah and Ga-on tried to comfort her, but in the end, it seemed like Soo-hyun just needed space.

“I’ll make dinner later,” Ga-on decided in the late afternoon as he saw Yo-han opening the drawer where the instant ramyeon was kept. “It won’t take long.”

But Yo-han seemed to have other ideas. “We’ll have to get used to eating meals like this,” he said, “and we don’t have enough ingredients.”

“Butler,” Ga-on called, but Yo-han placed a single packet of ramyeon on the table and shook his head.

“Do you think we’ll still have delivery services now?” he asked, looking rather dismayed.

“Right,” the younger sighed. “Then I guess we’ll just---”

“We don’t have enough ramyeon,” Yo-han dropped the bomb and Ga-on’s expression changed in an instant.

“What?”

The older man shut the empty drawer. “You heard me.”

A single pack of ramyeon was certainly not enough to feed the five of them. Ga-on stared at it, pondering his next move. “What do we do then?” he asked when no good solution surfaced in his head.

“What else?” Yo-han replied. “We have to go out to get more.”

After they’d spent time in the safety of the mansion, going out was that last thing that Ga-on wanted to do, even if he knew that they’d have to do so eventually. “Is there no other way?” he asked wearily, despite knowing the answer.

Instead of addressing the question, Yo-han merely said, “I’ll go out.”

“Wait.”

Before Yo-han could leave the kitchen, the word slipped out from Ga-on’s lips, stopping him in his tracks.

“I’ll come with you,” he said decisively. He’d surprised even himself with that choice, but for some reason he couldn’t quite pinpoint, he wasn’t willing to let Yo-han walk into danger alone. “It’s not too far away, right?”

Yo-han thought for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll get K to drive. Let’s go.”

It was eerily quiet in the mall, since all the shops had shut down after the virus had sent the nation into a state of turmoil.

K had dropped the two of them off and was waiting in a nearby alley where it was unlikely that there’d be many threats. And though Ga-on had visited this mall numerous times in his life, it felt frighteningly foreign when he set foot into the building, under completely different circumstances from previous occasions.

On the bright side, however, Yo-han had given him a knife to defend himself. So at the very least, he didn’t feel like he was walking into a battlefield unprepared. “It’s on the left,” he said when Yo-han was about to turn right, clearly a stranger to this mall.

“Mm,” the older man made a soft sound of understanding. The two headed to the supermarket.

The shutters were halfway down, but high enough that they could slip under it. Ga-on was careful not to make any noise, lest they attract unwanted attention from anything lurking in the darkness. Rows of shelves were mostly empty, suggesting that someone had beaten them to raiding the mall. There were a few fallen cans of food and several bottles of drinks rolling about, likely the remainder of a hurried escape.

“How much should we get?” Ga-on asked the other.

Yo-han picked a can off the floor, shining his phone’s torch at dim brightness to read the label. “Whatever’s not expired,” he said, keeping the can in his coat.

It felt a little wrong to be taking the goods without paying so Ga-on had to keep reminding himself that there was no one who even cared about the money anyway. He stacked several cans carefully, making sure that he didn’t drop any by accident. When he saw that Yo-han had gotten enough canned food as well, he moved onto the next aisle to see if they could find some finger food.

“Is this your first time going shopping?” he said casually as he grabbed a few bags of partly-crushed potato chips. He laid his jacket on the floor and put the items inside, securing them tightly with a knot and slinging the bundle over his shoulder.

“Is it still shopping if we’re not paying?” Yo-han responded in a murmur, watching what Ga-on was doing and looking mildly impressed. He slipped some granola bars into his pockets in the meantime, keeping the food compact enough that it wouldn’t make too much noise when he moved.

Ga-on shrugged, standing up. “I guess not.” He couldn’t remember when was the last time he’d had canned food as a full meal. “Anyway, the ramyeon should be just down the third aisle, unless they’ve moved it since the last time I came here.”

“Got it.” Yo-han followed his instructions, coming back with a few packets. “How much have we got?”

“Not much,” Ga-on mused, rather disappointed. “It seems like we’re taking the leftovers. It’ll only last us a day or two.” They’d probably have to check out another store as soon as possible and hopefully they’d be the first when they did. Ga-on looked at the empty shelves around them and then at Yo-han. “Shall we---”

He cut himself off at a low growl coming from several aisles away.

Glancing warily at his companion, he whispered, “Is it just me or---”

Yo-han moved in a flash, clamping his hand over Ga-on’s mouth. He began to inch in the direction of the shutter and Ga-on moved with him. Footsteps grew louder and the duo moved faster, faster, but not fast enough.

Just as they reached the end of the hallway, a shadowy figure emerged at the other side, only less than ten metres away from them. Ga-on gulped, gripping his stash tightly.

“Run,” Yo-han hissed, and he released the younger, grabbing his wrist and dragging him as they started to run to the shutter.

Ga-on’s heart was pounding in his chest. He wasn’t bad at running --- in fact, he took pride in being one of the top runners back in high school --- but weaving his way around the shelves was definitely a different story. He knew that Yo-han couldn’t fire a gunshot because they’d only be asking for trouble if he did, so all he could do was run with the other, scrambling over fallen cans and glancing back every few seconds just to check how far away the enemy was.

It didn’t take too long for them to slide out from under the shelter, hearing growls and other barbaric noises following after them. But when they stood in the walkway of the mall, Ga-on realised that the nightmare had only just begun.

The Infected had somehow found out about their intrusion and there were at least five on each side of the corridor, slowly approaching the pair.

“Fuck,” Yo-han mumbled, “we’ll have to fight.” It wasn’t a small number, but it wasn’t that much either that it’d be worth firing a shot. “Run and no matter what, don’t look back, don’t wait for me if I’m behind. I’ll meet you at the car.”

Before Ga-on had the chance to speak, Yo-han grabbed the back of his collar and shoved him towards the entrance they’d come from, and then they started running.

Ga-on had never felt this anxious before. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he pushed through the crowd of enemies, pushing them away with the blade of his knife. He swung the bundle of cans at them whenever they got too close, but at the same time, he was careful not to let the fabric tear. Yo-han seemed to be doing well, fighting off each enemy easily and skilfully maneuvering his way around them.

It felt immoral to be harming living beings, except that Ga-on didn’t think the Infected constituted as living beings anymore. That didn’t make it much easier to drive his knife into their bodies, sometimes hitting vital areas to hopefully kill them. He forced himself to look away whenever the scene got too gorey, whenever his knife tore out chunks of skin and left blood spurting out of deep wounds. It was absolutely disgusting and he couldn’t wait to get out of the mall.

Cursing under his breath as one of the Infected that he’d kicked off reached for his ankle, Ga-on stepped back. He jabbed away someone and received a shriek in response, only making him more desperate to get out of this place. His knife required close range and he wasn’t willing to lose it, so he fumbled for a can from his stash and threw it squarely at the head of the nearest enemy. He’d rid himself of his assailants for enough time to catch up with Yo-han at the entrance.

“Let’s go,” Yo-han urged, grabbing the younger’s wrist and heading off. That was, until Ga-on felt something latching onto his calf and he turned around in horror to make eye contact with an infected man.

The sharp stare bore holes into him and Ga-on felt like he was about to meet his doom. He started to tremble, doing his best to keep his calm but failing miserably as he let out a soundless scream. He shook his leg, attempting to kick the hand off, but the grip was stronger than he’d expected and it was hard to find a good deal of strength amidst his panic. The enemy reached out, fingernails digging into and slashing across Ga-on’s back, causing pain to shoot through his body.

And then Ga-on heard a gunshot and the grip on his leg loosened enough for him to free himself. “We have to go now,” Yo-han said, harsher than before now that they’d probably gotten more attention. Ga-on nodded and disregarded the pain as much as he could, running with Yo-han to the car.

“So how is the situation out there?” Soo-hyun inquired as Ga-on walked into the kitchen, with Yo-han and K not far behind him. “Was it dangerous? Did you get hurt?”

“It’s the same as what you described.” Ga-on emptied his stash onto the table, starting to take out the items in Yo-han’s coat that was currently draped over his shoulders. “It was, but no, I’m not,” he lied about his injury, not wanting to make his friend worried.

Taking his claim as the truth, Soo-hyun didn’t probe.

“So how much did you get?” Elijah wheeled herself over to the table and asked.

Yo-han took a glance at the food items and his expression darkened. “Not enough,” he said simply.

“The supermarket was already raided before we got there,” Ga-on elaborated. “We only managed to take what was left.”

“Pity,” Soo-hyun maffled, tapping her finger against the table for a while before going to the drawer, taking out some cutlery. “Well, we can’t survive on an empty stomach. At least, we have enough for today.” She turned to K. “Could you boil some water?”

The man swiftly obliged, standing by the kettle once he was done.

Soo-hyun was a lot more talkative than usual, Ga-on noted as he watched his friend scramble around, like she was trying to take care of the whole household, busying herself with whatever task she could find. “Ga-on-ah,” she said without looking up from arranging the canned food, “where’s the cutlery?”

“I’ll get it,” Ga-on answered. He did understand why she was behaving this way --- she probably felt like she had to be useful if she wanted to stay with this group that was implicitly led by the man she hadn’t been the nicest to prior to all of this.

He laid the cutlery out on the table, stepping away once he was done, and K brought the kettle over and poured water into the disposable bowls of instant ramyeon to let them cook.

The five of them sat around the table once the rest of the food was stored properly in some of the cabinets. Ga-on could tell that Soo-hyun, who was seated opposite him, was slightly fidgety. He shot her a look to assure her that she didn’t have to feel like a stranger to the rest. He was sure that Yo-han didn’t hate her or anything like that. At most, they just didn’t get along perfectly.

With a grateful smile, the woman gradually regained her composure. “The food should be ready in five minutes,” she said as Elijah lifted one of the flaps to check on the noodles.

Reflective silence then enveloped the table, as if everyone was taking the time to process the events of the past day.

When the ramyeon was done, they each took one bowl and a pair of chopsticks, and ate.

The last time Ga-on had a meal like this, at a table full of people that he felt connected to, had been when he’d cooked for the Kangs and their housekeeper. And before that, it had been when his parents were still alive.

Nostalgia overwhelmed him the moment they began digging into the food. Stirring the soup in his bowl, he could feel the steam rising up, fogging the air above the ramyeon. It sent him back to the past, back to when he and his parents had sat around the table in their small yet homely apartment, talking about their day as they ate together.

“Aren’t you gonna start eating?” Elijah asked him, nudging the side of his arm.

Ga-on hadn’t realised that he’d been stoning. “Oh,” he snapped himself out of his trance, “yeah.” He picked up some noodles with his chopsticks, putting them into his mouth and chewing as he stared at the soup.

Another nudge came, from Yo-han on his left this time. “Is something bothering you?”

“Nothing,” Ga-on said truthfully after swallowing his food. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve had a meal like this.”

“Like as a family?” Elijah guessed.

The man paused, then nodded.

“Honestly,” Soo-hyun piped in, “I didn’t think I’d ever eat with this many people again.”

Beside her, K seemed to agree.

“It’s not bad,” Ga-on continued, smiling glumly but contentedly at the same time. “I miss this.”

Though no one responded aloud, there was a consensus among them. And with that, they all slowed down their eating for a while, as though they were all deep in thought.

At the back of his mind, Ga-on wondered how many more meals he’d be able to enjoy in this fashion. Well, “enjoy” wasn’t the right word for a meal in the middle of what was likely becoming an apocalypse, but he didn’t have a better way to describe it. It was hard to guarantee that they’d survive till their next dinner and even harder to say for the days after that. While he felt somewhat joyous at the moment, Ga-on knew that he shouldn’t get used to the feeling.

“Ah, the food is getting cold,” Soo-hyun suddenly spoke, causing everyone else to pull themselves together once more. “We should finish quickly and go to bed; it’s been a long day.”

Ga-on’s back stung for the next few hours. He wasn’t sure what was supposed to happen now. Part of him feared that he’d been infected, that he’d slowly lose his mind and turn into one of those zombie-like beings. He didn’t want that, of course. Not only did he find it daunting to be undead yet not alive, he also didn’t want to put any of the people he cared about in danger.

Yo-han had wrapped his coat around the younger man while they were in the car, masking the large tear of his clothes. Only the two of them were aware of what had happened. While he was grateful that Yo-han hadn’t spoken a word of it since then, Ga-on didn’t think it was right for his injury to go unnoticed either, especially when it could pose a danger to everyone in the mansion.

He sighed, washing the blade of his knife under a running tap. The blood, coloured both red and dark blue, diluted in the sink’s water and went down the drain, leaving no trace of ever being there. If only his wound would do the same.

“Ga-on,” he heard someone call his name and he turned around, noticing Yo-han at the kitchen’s entrance, leaning against the frame.

He turned the tap off as the man walked over. “Chief,” he said.

“Yo-han,” the older man corrected, glancing at the knife. “I’m not your chief anymore.”

His words were a painful reminder of how much had changed and that they’d never be able to return to the life they’d once had. “Yo-han,” he echoed. The name felt comforting on his lips, giving him a sense of familiarity. “What are you doing here?”

“Come with me,” Yo-han replied. “We need to talk.”

And as Ga-on followed him quietly to his room, he was pretty sure that he’d figured out what this was all about.

“Take a seat,” Yo-han instructed, nodding his head in the direction of his bed.

Ga-on did as he was told, sitting down at the edge. He felt the mattress sink down a bit as Yo-han sat behind him.

“Take your shirt off.”

Knowing what would be revealed under the clothes he’d changed into, Ga-on hesitated. He didn’t think that Yo-han would want to get rid of him because of that injury. If he did, he wouldn’t have rescued Ga-on from the infected man at all. However, it still made him uneasy anyway.

With a sigh, Yo-han tugged gently at the hem of Ga-on’s shirt, repeating, “Take it off.”

And with a reluctant sigh, Ga-on did.

He held his breath as he felt a gentle touch travel across his back, tracing the wound with care. “It’s worse than I thought,” Yo-han mumbled, sounding somewhat worried. “Don’t move.”

He got off the bed, retrieving a roll of bandages and a first-aid kit before he returned. Throughout that, Ga-on remained still.

Yo-han then began to clean the wound, first applying an antiseptic lotion to disinfect it. “Does it hurt?” he asked, and the way that Ga-on flinched at the medication was enough of an answer. “I’ll make it quick, as long as you stay still.”

Ga-on groaned and clutched the bedsheets in response, ignoring the pain to the best of his ability. He bit his lip to distract himself, so much that the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth, tainting his taste buds. “What do I do?” he asked when Yo-han finished bandaging his body, securing the bandages with a safety pin.

“Hm?” Yo-han looked at him.

“The wound...I’ll get infected, won’t I?” As though he didn’t want anyone else to hear about it, Ga-on’s voice was quiet. “I should leave...” he lamented, averting his eyes. “I don’t want to put any of you in danger.”

“You might not,” the older man countered. “Not everyone who gets hurt gets infected.”

Face plastered with disbelief, Ga-on argued, “You saw how bad the wound was. There’s no way I’ll be just fine. I need to leave before I hurt everyone, Yo-han. I need to leave before I hurt you.”

“Ga-on-ah,” Yo-han said softly, and Ga-on felt his heart swell at how smoothly his name rolled off the other’s tongue, “I’m not leaving you behind.”

“But...” Ga-on started, only to find that he didn’t know what to say.

Yo-han shifted to lean against the headboard of his bed. “Some people are immune to the virus,” he explained. “There’s no guarantee that you’ll succumb to it.”

Ga-on was sceptical. “How do you know?”

With a sigh, Yo-han patted the area of the mattress beside him and Ga-on moved over, sitting there. “Because Elijah is,” Yo-han muttered, like it was a secret that no one was supposed to know.

In an instant, Ga-on’s eyes widened. “What?”

The other man nodded. “Before the virus was all over the news, one of the infected people broke into the mansion and attacked her in the early morning. Her right leg was hurt pretty badly.”

“How long ago was this?” Ga-on asked.

“...After the night that you left.”

Ga-on’s heart ached as he sensed pain behind those words, but it was far too late to apologise for that. That day alone felt like an eternity ago. He bowed his head instead. “Then it’s been much longer than a day,” he deduced, remembering that he’d read about how symptoms had shown within a day for all reported cases thus far.

“My point exactly.” Yo-han nodded. “It’s not as rare as it may seem.”

“I see,” Ga-on said. “But what if---”

“No ‘what if’s,” his companion cut him off. “I told you, Ga-on, I won’t abandon you.”

“Why?” the younger asked candidly, his tone a bit stronger than he’d intended for it to be. “I left you behind.”

Hurt flashed across Yo-han’s face at the reminder and Ga-on regretted not keeping his mouth shut. “Just...because,” Yo-han managed to say.

It was an unsatisfactory answer, but Ga-on knew better than to ask any further.

Instead, he said, “Thank you.”

Yo-han’s lips curved up in a tiny smile, but it faded as quickly as it’d come, as if he’d caught himself in an act that he shouldn’t have been in.

“Sleep here tonight,” he requested before Ga-on could stand up to leave. “We don’t have enough rooms, just the guest room and my old room for your friend and K.”

The idea came as a surprise, although it brought mixed feelings along with it. “Are you sure?” Ga-on asked hesitantly, not because he didn’t want to but because he was afraid of invading the other’s personal space. And moreover, he still felt bad about what he’d said before and he didn’t exactly want to...take advantage of the situation. “I can sleep in the study.”

“Sleep here.” Yo-han didn’t take no for an answer, rather he spoke more firmly than before. But he kept talking right after, sounding like he was scared that he’d sparked a misunderstanding, like he wasn’t as sure of himself as he had been seconds ago. “If you’re not comfortable with sharing a bed with me, I’ll take the study.”

Immediately, Ga-on shook his head. “I’m completely fine,” he said quickly. “Very comfortable.” Maybe a bit too comfortable.

“...If you say so.” Yo-han eyed him a little questionably and Ga-on could feel his face flushing red.

He cleared his throat abruptly, ceasing his thoughts that were beginning to spiral out of control to places where they shouldn’t be. “...I’ll go wash my face.” He scurried to the bathroom without another word.

And as he lay down on the bed no more than half an hour later, he thought that maybe this whole virus ordeal wasn’t that bad after all.

(Of course, that thought didn’t last long. It faded the moment he heard howling in the distance, and then Ga-on regretted entertaining it for even a second.)

The bed was cold when Ga-on woke up. He didn’t know what he’d been expecting --- it was still the middle of an apocalypse and certainly not the time for a lazy morning with someone who wasn’t even his lover. He rubbed his eyes gently, sitting up and seeing Yo-han getting dressed by the closet.

“We’re going to find Heo Joong-se and the others today,” the man informed Ga-on, who nodded sleepily and took a few seconds to process his thoughts. “Put on something appropriate. We’ll be leaving in half an hour.”

Ga-on released a soft groan as he stood up. His back felt better but it was still far from recovered, not that he believed it’d recover anytime soon.

Yo-han paused in his motions, resolute expression faltering. “You don’t have to come along if you’re not up to it. I could bring K instead. Then you could go get supplies with your friend in the afternoon if you’re feeling better by then.”

“I’ll come,” Ga-on insisted, because again, letting Yo-han go without him didn’t settle right in his head. “Just give me a few minutes to get ready.”

While he appeared doubtful for a moment, Yo-han relented and agreed. “But if you don’t feel well at any point in time, you have to let me know,” he set a condition, to which Ga-on easily accepted.

After all, Ga-on decided, he didn’t have that much left to lose. Who knew if he’d still be sane the next day or if he’d have fallen victim to the virus? While he was still able to, he wanted to do as much as he could to help those that he cared about.

He caught the clothes that Yo-han tossed at him and went to get changed.

As Yo-han had figured, the group of elites were indeed gathered at the Blue House. From a distance away, Ga-on could already tell that the lights on the second storey were switched on, indicating that there were people present inside. It wasn’t surprising that there weren’t any infected individuals around at the moment, since the house was pretty isolated compared to the cramped city.

The two made it to the entrance before they were stopped by a pair of guards who asked what they were doing there.

“Tell them that Kang Yo-han wants to talk to them,” the older man requested and the guards exchanged glances before one of them contacted the people inside via intercom.

It took several minutes until the guards allowed the pair to enter. Ga-on stayed close to Yo-han as they entered, having never been inside the house before.

“Well, who do we have here?” an obnoxiously cheerful voice, belonging to none other than Heo Joong-se himself, greeted them as they entered the main chamber. “Kang Yo-han, I almost didn’t recognise you! What brings you here today?”

As his companion exchanged greetings with the rest, Ga-on let his eyes wander around, taking note of who was present. It was the same group that’d been at the event he’d first attended with Yo-han back when he’d yet to open his eyes to how the world of the upper-class was, minus the late chairman of the Foundation and someone else who seemed to be missing. But what shocked him was when his eyes landed on a familiar face.

Standing at the corner of the table, looking a little awkward, Jin-joo waved sheepishly at Ga-on. What the hell is she doing here? he wondered, glancing at Yo-han, who seemed to have noticed but chose to ignore it.

The last time he’d seen Jin-joo was in their shared office on the day that someone in the building had been infected. Ever since then, the two hadn’t communicated at all and Ga-on had been harbouring apprehensions about whether she was safe or whether she’d been infected. To see her here, though, as much as he was puzzled, was a relief.

He smiled at her, having half a mind to take her aside and find out what had happened.

She beat him to it.

Taking advantage of the fact that no one was talking to him, Jin-joo walked over to Ga-on, then headed to the door and gestured for him to follow. And he did, because he still had some level of trust for his former co-worker.

“Why are you here?” he asked in a harsh whisper when they were out of the room, standing along the corridor.

The woman glanced around, shifting closer so it’d be harder to hear whatever they were going to talk about. “Jung Sun-ah found me,” she said at a faint volume, “and she brought me here.”

Ga-on frowned, knowing that Sun-ah had always given him a bit of a bad vibe. “What about your family?”

“They’re safe in my hometown, Daegu, thankfully,” Jin-joo answered with a sigh. “But my brother...he was supposed to stay over for the weekend and now he’s stuck hiding in my apartment. I’m definitely going back for him when we’re ready to leave but until then...this is the best hope of survival, both for me and for him.”

“You’re leaving,” Ga-on noted her response.

“Don’t you want to as well?” Jin-joo said frustratedly, like she was at the verge of quitting the mess that her life had turned into. “There’s no hope of living here. It’s a matter of time before everyone gets infected.”

Seeing an opportunity to get answers, the man asked, “How are you going to leave, though?”

Jin-joo’s eyes scanned the hallway for any potential listeners before she beckoned for Ga-on to come closer and when he did, she murmured into his ear, “There’s a train---”

“Jin-joo,” a voice interrupted her and she immediately moved away from Ga-on like she’d been caught in a tryst. “What are the two of you doing here?”

“Sorry, Sun-ah-ssi,” Jin-joo promptly apologised, explaining that she’d merely been catching up on current affairs with Ga-on.

Though Sun-ah looked uncertain, she didn’t pursue any further. “Come back in,” she said, turning around and holding the door open. The guests are leaving soon and we have things to discuss.” Her eyes flickered in Ga-on’s direction, like a subtle warning.

Jin-joo nodded, shooting Ga-on an apology through her gaze before she went back into the room. Ga-on followed behind her, his mind still on her half-completed sentence.

There’s a train, he echoed it in his head, walking over to where Yo-han was standing, so there’s a way out.

The older man looked rather impatient, like he couldn’t wait to be out of the company of these people. They disgusted him, after all, which was expected after what had taken place in the church fire those years ago. Ga-on knew that, and he understood.

He tugged Yo-han’s sleeve lightly and when the other turned to look at him, Ga-on shot him a look as if to say that he’d found something already and that there was honestly no point staying here any longer, especially when neither of them wanted to.

“We’ll take our leave now,” Yo-han declared, putting on a plastic smile that disappeared the moment he turned his back to the people in the room. He left with Ga-on, not looking back even once.

Once they’d gotten back to the car, Ga-on sighed loudly.

If only Sun-ah hadn’t come at that time, he’d probably know a bit more than the little information he had. Still, however, it was better than nothing, and he was pretty sure that Jin-joo was the only one who’d have provided useful information. Blackmail was no longer an option now that people had nothing but their lives left to lose.

“What happened with Jin-joo?” Yo-han asked, starting the engine and beginning to drive.

“We were right,” Ga-on replied, fidgeting with his fingers over his lap. “There’s a train leaving the city and they know about it. No, they’re probably the ones who are organising it.”

Yo-han exhaled in a knowing laugh. “And there’s absolutely no way they’ll just let us board it with them.”

Ga-on was silent in agreement.

“In that case, we’ll have to find a way to get on board in their place,” Yo-han thought aloud.

“Can’t we just sneak on board?”

Stepping on the accelerator to run over some infected people who’d gathered at the front of the car and were hitting it with blunt objects, Yo-han huffed sharply. “It won’t be more than a single carriage if they don’t want to attract attention, and that means that hiding will be nearly impossible. And when we’re caught, do you think they’ll just stand by and watch us leech off them?”

The younger man squirmed in his seat as he heard bodies crushing under the car’s wheels. “I guess not...”

“I’ll find a way to get rid of them,” Yo-han assured him, rubbing his hand up and down Ga-on’s arm to console him. “Excluding Jin-joo, I mean. Whatever it is, we’ll definitely get out of here.”

Ga-on forced a small smile onto his face but didn’t say a word.

“So there’s a train, but we don’t know when it’ll depart,” Soo-hyun confirmed what she’d just been told. She picked up some instant ramyeon with her chopsticks, blowing lightly at it to cool it down.

“Or where it is,” K added, unintentionally mimicking her action.

With a sigh, Ga-on nodded. It hadn’t sounded as hopeless in his head. “It’s probably the railway station, though,” he pointed out, stirring his food slowly. “And I don’t think it’ll be for the next day, at least.”

“You’ll never know,” the policewoman said with a shrug.

K hummed in agreement, and Ga-on wondered why the two seemed a little closer than before. Perhaps the crisis had, interestingly enough, brought strangers together and forged new bonds.

“It’s possible, but it’s only a slight chance,” Yo-han spoke his opinion. “Right now, we don’t know what state the station is in. Heo Joong-se and his group won’t risk venturing into a station that’s infested with half-dead creatures.”

“People, not creatures,” Soo-hyun mumbled, but her words went ignored by the man.

Yo-han placed his chopsticks on the empty bowl, leaning back and folding his arms. “The only way to find out would be to visit the station.”

“I’ll go with you,” Ga-on offered. “I’ve been to the station before. I know my way around the platforms.”

“It’s dangerous,” Soo-hyun warned.

But Ga-on had already made his decision. “Someone has to,” he said. “We won’t make it to Daegu by staying out of danger.”

Knowing that he was right, the woman didn’t object any further. “Did Judge Oh say why she’d joined their group?” she asked curiously, looking at Ga-on for answers.

The man thought for a while. “Only that it was her best bet at survival, for her and for her brother.”

“They’re probably just using her,” Elijah lamented, as if she felt sympathetic for the former associate judge. She patted Kkomi, who was sleeping on her lap like a cat normally would. “Those people...they won’t just help anyone out of kindness.”

“It’s true,” Yo-han agreed with his niece, standing up and walking to the sink to place his utensils. “But when people are desperate, they don’t think of the consequences.”

Furrowing his brows, Ga-on released a long exhale. He hoped that Jin-joo was fine. She’d been a great colleague for the little time they’d known each other and honestly, she was practically becoming a sister to him. Shaking his head to get rid of those worrisome thoughts, he stood up to place his dishes in the sink.

“Anyway, that aside,” Soo-hyun spoke again, “is there anything that anyone wants from the convenience store?”

“Potato chips,” Elijah answered in a heartbeat and the woman chuckled.

Yo-han walked back to the table, standing behind his chair. “We already got that yesterday,” he said, gesturing in the direction of one of the cabinets where they’d kept the stocked food.

Elijah rolled her eyes. “You only brought back two packets.”

“Well, it’s not healthy anyway,” Yo-han shot back.

The pair continued to bicker as usual and Ga-on watched fondly, reminded of how it’d been like when it’d been the three of them living in the mansion. From a stranger who’d been taken in for safety reasons, Ga-on had made a place for himself in their house, making it into a home. The once gloomy mansion had become one that was filled with laughter and warmth, as if they’d become a family.

A family. His smile morphed into a melancholic one as the realisation sank in once again this afternoon’s bliss was only temporary. All he could do was to hope that it’d last for as long as it could.

Soo-hyun and K left for supplies a few hours later. The store was a walking distance away and because it wasn’t located in the city, it was less frequented. The group of five had plotted the area in their proximity on a map, narrowing down to a few places where they could get supplies, and they’d settled unanimously on that store, under the premise that it was the least likely to be raided at the moment.

Meanwhile, the other three sat around the tables in Yo-han’s study.

“It’s likely that we’ll run into some of the Infected in the station,” Yo-han stated what everyone had figured but no one had dared to raise. “But unlike the shopping mall, there’s going to be hundreds of them there. If we can stay in the car, it’ll be best, but even so, the car doesn’t guarantee our safety.”

“We’ll have to go there when we board the train, anyway,” Elijah pointed out before she took a sip of the water from the cup she was holding onto.

Yo-han nodded. “But at least by then, we’ll only have one destination to run to.” He paused for a moment, then turned to Ga-on. “You said that you’re familiar with the station, didn’t you?”

Ga-on nodded.

“So where would the trains to Daegu normally be?”

“It changes sometimes, depending on the route,” the younger man recalled. “But it’s usually the South platform.”

“And you know where that is?”

He nodded again.

Yo-han exhaled slowly, hugging a cushion to his chest. “That’s good,” he said, “that’s good.”

“Would it be fine to just park the car somewhere, though?” Ga-on brought up a concern, sounding unsure of himself.

“It’ll be good if K can drive and look after the car,” Yo-han replied, “but otherwise, I think we’re fine with just one person going out...” His voice trailed off and he looked at Ga-on as if to ask what he thought because if one person was going out, it’d only make sense for it to be the one who knew his way around.

Ga-on had not a trace of hesitation on his face. “Sounds good.”

With that, it was settled, and the room fell back into silence. At the start of the calamity, Yo-han had still seemed unaffected by it. But the more time went on, the more Ga-on could tell that he, too, was worried. Maybe not about himself, but at least, about Elijah.

And so was Ga-on, to be completely honest. As much as he wished that it wasn’t the case, it was unlikely that all five of them would make it to the end. He’d already been mauled by an infected person and though he’d yet to show symptoms, what were the chances of their entire group being immune? He knew that Elijah was, and perhaps himself, but as far as he knew, the others had just yet to get hurt. (He hoped it’d stay that way but to wish for that was already asking for a lot.)

“Please,” the girl suddenly broke the ice as she gripped onto her cup lightly, “be careful.”

From the corner of his eye, Ga-on saw the other man smile. “We will,” Yo-han assured his niece. “I promise.”

Sharp, frantic knocks on the door startled Ga-on that evening. He hurried to the door with Yo-han not far behind him, opening it for the two that had returned. “She needs help,” K said, looking more alarmed than Ga-on had ever seen him be. “Urgently, that is.”

With an arm around his shoulder and blood dripping out of her mouth was Soo-hyun, who looked as though she could collapse any moment. Seeing his childhood friend in that state, Ga-on felt his heart race in fear or what that implied. What had happened to them?

Her eyes were a little red and there were fresh wounds on her body, especially on her right arm. There was a trail of blood visible behind the two who’d returned, travelling so far out that it was hard to tell where it’d started, if the beginning was even in view at all. She looked weary, clinging to her consciousness like she was hanging off a cliff.

While K wasn’t in a state as bad as she was, even he wasn’t in perfect condition. His clothes were tattered and dirt stained his skin, as if he’d walked out of a battlefield from a war he’d narrowly survived. Blood stains were visible on his limbs, although they looked like small scratches rather than marks from being attacked.

“What happened?” Yo-han questioned, holding the door for them.

Elijah had rushed out of her room at the commotion and was stunned at the sight that met her eyes, finding herself speechless like Ga-on was.

“We were ambushed,” K explained, leading the injured woman to the study where he lowered her onto the couch. “She took a bullet and the Infected started to gather around us. We barely made it out, but she’s badly hurt.”

Yo-han frowned. “A bullet?”

Clicking his tongue, K wiped some blood off the corner of his lips. “Jung Sun-ah,” he said. “We ran into her on the way back.”

“Isn’t she with Heo Joong-se and the others?” Yo-han sounded shocked.

Ga-on clenched his fists, cursing the name in his head. He’d never liked that woman, but he hadn’t expected that she’d pull something like this. It infuriated him greatly.

“I don’t know, but she said something about wanting you to be alone,” K told Yo-han, whose face flashed with anger.

“I’m sure that she meant to get us killed,” Soo-hyun spluttered, coughing out blood afterwards.

K took out a bottle of mineral water and uncapped it to pass to the woman, who thanked him and gulped down half of it. Once she was slightly more stable, K took some cans of food and packets of chips out of his coat’s pockets. “We got some supplies but we dropped quite a bit along the way.”

“It’s fine,” Yo-han mumbled, looking at the food items. “Is it just her arm that’s severely injured?”

K nodded and Yo-han went to get medical supplies.

“Soo-hyun-ah.” Ga-on sat down beside his friend, appearing distressed. “How bad does it hurt? Will you be okay?” They were meaningless questions, but Ga-on had no idea what else he could say. His mind was in a flurry and it was hard to think, much less think properly.

“I’m fine,” Soo-hyun cracked a weak smile, reaching out to ruffle his hair, only to pull back and wince. “Ah,” she groaned, “dammit.”

“Unnie...” Elijah looked frightened, face pale as a sheet. She certainly hadn’t expected the trip for supplies to go this wrong. Neither had anyone else, to be honest. When Yo-han and Ga-on had gone out the day before, they’d come back in one piece. But now it wasn’t only the Infected that they had to look out for, but other survivors as well.

Ga-on didn’t believe in deities, but as he watched his friend smile through her pain even as blood trickled from her lips, he prayed to any deity who would listen that this would be the last time anything like this happened, and that by some miracle, they’d all make it out alive.

Alone in the study, Ga-on sat on the couch, thinking. Truth to be told, his head was in a mess. He could hardly keep his composure on the outside and on the inside, he didn’t even bother doing so. Though he knew that going out would pose a danger, he hadn’t expected that someone else who was, supposedly, still not one of the Infected, would’ve been the one to pull the trigger on his best friend.

“Ga-on-ah.” As if on cue, Soo-hyun came into view at the entrance. “Can I talk to you for a while?”

Her arm was bandaged and she’d taken a shower to get all the blood off, but the weary look in her eyes was hard to miss. Ga-on avoided staring, lest he feel even worse, and patted the seat beside him for her to come over.

Soo-hyun did, albeit silence took over for a good minute, like she had something to say but didn’t know where to start.

“Is something wrong?” Ga-on eventually found enough of his voice to ask, knowing that Soo-hyun had sounded serious to the point that he knew she hadn’t come here for casual conversation.

“I guess I just missed talking to my best friend,” the woman said, probably only half true. “And after I was attacked, I realised that I need to say something to you while I still can.”

Ga-on didn’t lift his gaze from the floor. “What is it?” For some reason, her words felt ominous.

He heard a deep exhale. “I don’t know if I’ll still make it out alive,” Soo-hyun stated, as if it was a well-known fact. “But I don’t have that much left to lose, anyway --- only you.”

The man opened his mouth to argue, but she didn’t give him time.

“So promise me,” she said, words tender yet desperate, “that no matter what happens to me, you’ll make it out of here. And that once you do so, you’ll stop being so reckless and take care of yourself instead, and that you’ll continue to find joy in the little things like plants and won’t lose yourself to what’s happened here, and that you’ll be able to move on from this and start again and...be happy.”

Not knowing what to say, Ga-on could only shake his head. He didn’t want to lose anyone, including her. He didn’t like how she was talking like this was their final goodbye.

“Please, Ga-on.” Soo-hyun pulled him into a short hug and let him go with a tearful smile. “You have to promise me that.”

Ga-on averted his eyes. “...Fine.”

Soo-hyun’s smile seemed a little brighter once he’d agreed. “And you and Kang Yo-han...” Her words trailed off and she let out a distant laugh. “I thought I’d be over it by now, but I guess it still hurts to see my first love falling for someone else, especially someone who used to be the enemy.”

“Soo-hyun-ah...”

“But,” the woman continued, sounding sincere, “I want you to be happy, even if that means that it’s with him.”

Ga-on bit his lip gently. “He doesn’t like me in that way.”

As if she couldn’t believe what she’d heard, Soo-hyun picked up a cushion, chucking it at her friend. “Are you serious? Everyone else can see the way he looks at you; K even asked me if I knew what was going on between you two!”

Ga-on caught the cushion and hugged it tightly, simultaneous to his best friend’s exasperated sigh. “He can’t like me, Soo-hyun,” he insisted. “Not after I...hurt him.” The last words were significantly quieter than the rest.

However, Soo-hyun didn’t seem to agree. “Remember that day I was waiting at your apartment?” she asked, and Ga-on nodded when his memory jogged back to that point. “Before I called you...Kang Yo-han came over.”

The man’s eyes shot towards her. “He did?”

“And he asked where you were.” Swaying a little from side to side, Soo-hyun stared at her feet. “He cares a lot about you, at least enough that one of the first things he did when the world was starting to end was to look for you.”

Oh, Ga-on mouthed dumbly.

“Mhm,” Soo-hyun hummed. “So whatever happens, I’ll support you.”

Ga-on smiled, but his smile faltered when he read the words she hadn’t said.

Whatever happens, I’ll support you, even if I’m not here anymore.

Soo-hyun turned in early that night and shortly after she did, Elijah did the same, leaving only the three men in the study.

“What do we do?” K finally voiced the question that was in everyone’s heads.

“She might be infected,” Yo-han answered pensively. “Her wounds were worse than they looked. Any virus would’ve already entered her bloodstream by the time the two of you returned.”

K seemed to understand what he meant. “The people who attacked her were infected, no doubt. Then...” As his words faded away, he glanced at the woman’s best friend.

Ga-on shook his head profusely, looking at his former chief with imploring eyes. “We can’t abandon her,” he said firmly. “She’s still sane and hasn’t done anything to harm us. And she might be immune, right?”

“Kim Ga-on.”

“Maybe she won’t succumb to the virus. Not everyone who gets infected does. There’s no guarantee that she will, right? That’s what you---”

“Kim Ga-on.”

The man shut up and only after a few seconds of hesitation did he say in a quiet voice, “Please.”

Yo-han’s hard glare softened and he looked away.

“She’s my best friend,” the younger man pleaded. “I can’t abandon her, at least not when she might still have a chance at survival...”

“Ga-on, you saw her wounds,” Yo-han started.

“And you saw mine,” Ga-on finished, leaving K unsure as to what was going on between the two.

There was a conflicted look on Yo-han’s face. Of course, to compare the two wounds at face value wasn’t right because one was obviously much worse than the other. But it was also true that their group could be a miracle group full of immunes, unlikely as that was.

“Fine,” he eventually relented, shaking his head with a sigh.

“Thank you,” Ga-on immediately said, bowing his head gratefully and having the sudden urge to go over and hug the other.

“But,” Yo-han continued before Ga-on could even move, “the moment she shows any symptoms, she’s gone.”

It was hard to think of kicking Soo-hyun out, but Ga-on knew that Yo-han had a point. He wasn’t going to sacrifice everyone else to save someone that he couldn’t even save. “I understand,” he said rigidly. “That’s fine.”

Ga-on had a dream that night.

The five of them had reached the station, only to find that the train was departing. And they ran after it, but no matter how fast they ran, it was out of their reach. And when they were out of breath and the train had disappeared into the horizon, the five of them turned around and saw a wave of infected people coming towards them.

But none of them had the energy to run any longer. They stood there, knowing they’d missed their one and only chance, and let the Infected maul them to death. The screams sounded so real in Ga-on’s head as he could do nothing but watch the painful deaths of the people that he cared about, seeing them look at him and smile like they were trying to comfort him even in their last moments.

Blood stained the ground, seeping out and tainting the small pebbles around the railway tracks. They were crimson red, but some parts were dark blue where the blood of the Infected had blended seamlessly with that of his companions. And then he felt a hand around his ankle and looked down to stare into the bloodshot eyes of an infected person.

He screamed in his head.

He opened his eyes.

“Ga-on-ah,” he heard Yo-han say in a low and sleepy voice. “What happened?”

The younger man bolted upright and panted to catch his breath. Then he looked at Yo-han, who was still alive. Alive. Alive and well and in no way at the verge of death. “Yo-han,” he said in a shaky voice, reaching out with trembling fingers as the other sat up slowly.

“What happened?” Yo-han asked again, in a voice so unbelievably tender that Ga-on almost wondered if he was still dreaming. He took Ga-on’s hand in his, intertwining their fingers gently. “You can tell me about it, if there’s something bothering you.”

“I had a nightmare,” Ga-on said, clutching the sheets tightly. “We made it to the station but we were too late, and then the Infected came after us, and then...”

He didn’t have to finish his sentence for Yo-han to understand what he meant. “It’s okay,” the man assured him, “it was just a dream.” He shifted closer, pulling Ga-on into a warm embrace.

“It felt so real,” the latter said, voice strained.

Pulling away but leaving his hand on Ga-on’s shoulder, Yo-han consoled him. “I won’t let it happen. I’ll make sure we get there on time, I promise.”

Ga-on bit his lip and held back tears as Yo-han let go of him, lying down again.

“Sleep,” he said, inviting Ga-on closer. “We’ve got a long day waiting ahead of us.”

At his word, Ga-on lay back under the covers and shuffled closer till he was in Yo-han’s arms. He lodged his head under Yo-han’s chin, burrowing into the crook of his neck and feeling his presence. He shut his eyes.

“How’s your wound?” Yo-han asked, making small talk to distract Ga-on from the nightmare.

“Better,” the younger replied.

Delicately, Yo-han threaded his fingers through Ga-on’s hair, holding him close. “That’s a relief,” he said, letting out a sigh.

Ga-on made a soft sound in response. Never would he have thought that he could feel so safe while the world was falling apart outside. It felt like for as long as he could remain in bed with Yo-han by his side, no nightmare or horror could snatch him into its clutches.

“I’m scared,” he admitted quietly, letting his thoughts flow freely. “I don’t think Soo-hyun will make it.”

“Don’t,” Yo-han said, his voice momentarily dipping an octave. “Don’t say that. Don’t give up on her until you’ve seen for yourself that she’s gone.”

Filled with uncertainty, Ga-on muttered, “But earlier, you said...”

“Ga-on-ah,” Yo-han cut him off and spoke his name with such endearment that Ga-on felt his heart flutter, “stop thinking about whether you’ll lose her and treasure the time you have while she’s still here.”

Don’t be like me, his unspoken words continued, and miss someone only when they’re gone.

Ga-on’s heart ached for a moment. Perhaps Yo-han was referring to his brother, or perhaps Yo-han was referring to him. Ga-on couldn’t read the other’s mind and so he wouldn’t know, but his thoughts nevertheless returned to that fateful day once more.

Maybe it wasn’t too late to apologise. And even if it was, Yo-han deserved one anyway. “I’m sorry,” Ga-on whispered, fumbling for Yo-han’s hand and lacing their fingers together once more. “And...thank you.”

“What for?”

“For walking away from you,” Ga-on answered, pressing a light kiss to Yo-han’s collarbone. “And thank you for not leaving me behind.”

Yo-han chuckled. “As if I could.” And then in a voice so faint that Ga-on might’ve missed it had he not been paying attention, he added, “But thank you for coming back.”

This time, the bed was warm when Ga-on woke up. He opened his eyes to see Yo-han sleeping soundly, until the man stirred enough that Ga-on knew he was awake.

“Good morning,” Yo-han mumbled, eyes still half-lidded and evidently in a daze.

Ga-on was pleased to discover that he hadn’t let go of Yo-han’s hand. “Good---”

The door slammed open.

“Yah! It’s past nine already, why are the both of you still in bed?”

The two of them immediately scurried away from each other and Ga-on saw Elijah at the entrance with Kkomi resting peacefully on her lap. “We were just about to get up,” he excused nervously.

Elijah rolled her eyes, albeit there was no malice behind her actions nor her words. “Sure,” she said, though she didn’t seem to believe him. “We’re having breakfast now. Join us whenever.”

She wheeled herself away and Yo-han pursed his lips defiantly before getting out of bed, Ga-on following suit.

“When will we head off?” Ga-on queried, taking off his shirt to change into a fresh one.

“The plan was to be out by now, but clearly that’s not happening. So as soon as we’re ready, we can go.”

None of them said it, but Ga-on knew that it’d be a risky trip, given K would be unable to drive them there as he’d have to watch over Soo-hyun and Elijah, and that would leave the pair on their own. “Half an hour from now?” the younger suggested.

With a nod, Yo-han concurred. “Sounds good.”

(Throughout the time they spent getting ready, neither of them made an attempt to address what’d happened during the night. It was as if it’d been a single moment of vulnerability, one that was meant to be forgotten with time. Ga-on didn’t know how to feel about that, but a fraction of him was irrefutably disappointed.)

The two of them went to get changed and by the time they arrived at the dining table, the others were already almost done with their breakfast. With nothing else to do, though, they were still seated and talking to one another.

“Took you guys long enough,” Elijah lamented, crushing the empty wrapper of her bread and tossing it into the nearby bin. “But well, I assume you slept well, judging from...” Her voice shrunk but her implication was clear.

“What happened?” Soo-hyun asked regardless, and K leaned closer like he was curious as well.

The teenage girl made a face. “You don’t want to know.”

“It was nothing,” Yo-han cut in frigidly, catching a packet of bread when Elijah tossed it to him. He quickly changed the subject after that. “Do we have enough food or will we have to make another trip out?”

“Fortunately, we have enough,” K informed him, taking a granola bar and opening it to eat.

Soo-hyun half-smiled. “We might’ve dropped some of the food along the way, but there’s sufficient for at least the next few days.”

“That’s good,” Yo-han said, only then beginning to have his breakfast. “Then I suppose we don’t need to make any more trips for supplies.”

“That means there’ll be a lot of free time,” the woman mentioned.

Ga-on hadn’t thought about that. “But we’ll have to spend all of it in the mansion,” he tacked onto her words.

Stroking Kkomi’s fur as the cat settled down on her lap, Elijah said, “I don’t see how that’s too bad. I’ve done it for a long time.” She looked at Yo-han, who sighed.

“We could play some games,” Ga-on suggested, remembering when he’d played Jenga with the Kangs and their housekeeper. “Elijah’s right, there are plenty of things to do.”

And honestly, part of him yearned to feel like this household was a family again, no matter the current circumstances surrounding it. Even this breakfast together felt like a family affair, something he’d done with his parents back when they’d still been alive.

“I don’t mind,” Soo-hyun said with a shrug. In the past few days, Ga-on could feel that she’d started to warm up to this mansion and its occupants, including Yo-han. Seeing that made him happy, given that the two had been at heads before this, at least on Soo-hyun’s part.

K nodded in agreement, appearing interested. “Me too.”

“Then we’ll do that.” Elijah beamed, looking pleased. Her expression going stern in a nonetheless light-hearted way, she looked at her uncle. “That includes you.”

“If you insist,” the man responded. In spite of his apathetic tone, Ga-on could tell that he was looking forward to it. “But of course,” Yo-han kept speaking, “only after we’re done with what we have to do.”

“Stay safe,” Elijah said.

Ga-on smiled. “We will.”

They headed out on time, with Yo-han driving and Ga-on staring out of the window.

Most of the remaining population had been infected already, leaving only several who were immune. But even then, being immune to the virus didn’t make survival any easier --- not when one could still be ambushed and murdered by the Infected. As they drove through the streets, not a single healthy person was in sight. All that Ga-on could see were groups of infected individuals, some of which flocked to the car, trying to tear it into bits.

And each time they did, Yo-han only stepped down on the accelerator harder than before, his mien not changing in the slightest. It was like he’d already gotten used to everything and accepted this as the norm. Even as they ran over dead bodies and crushed some of the Infected alive, Yo-han kept his eyes on the road, as if he’d already been desensitised long ago.

And Ga-on kept his eyes on Yo-han, away from the blood that slithered down his window whenever the Infected threw themselves at the car, away from the shrill cries that the windows failed to block out from his ears, and on the only source of solace he could find amidst the chaotic and blood-soaked streets.

“We’re almost there,” Yo-han said calmly, as though he’d sensed his companion’s unease. “Just ten more minutes and the roads should be slightly clearer on the path we’re taking.”

Ga-on could only nod and hope that he’d be right.

Thankful enough, Yo-han was. The narrow road to the station was practically empty, granted the station was likely to be more packed than that. That being said, it would be easy enough to sneak to the platform as long as nothing was done to attract excessive attention.

Yo-han parked the car by the roadside, no more than a hundred metres from the nearest entrance to the station. “Will you be fine alone?” he asked.

Following a brief few seconds of thought, Ga-on nodded. “I’ll be fine,” he said, a fleeting smile on his face before he opened the car door. “See you soon.” It was a simple three words, but a promise as well --- that he’d be back --- and Yo-han seemed to have caught on to that hint.

“See you soon,” he replied, lifting his fingers in a small wave. With that, Ga-on closed the door as noiselessly as he could and hurried off.

He made it to the closest platform rather fast, but what awaited him was a worrying sight. There were crowds of people gathered, some in groups with blankets strewn over their bodies like they’d been staying here for days, and Ga-on knew that surely that could not be good. The news had specifically said to avoid crowds and this was exactly what was advised against.

He frowned a little, sneaking past a group that was asleep and to the board which displayed which trains were at each platform. Then it dawned upon him that he had no idea where to begin. What could he possibly find from all this? It was far too dangerous to be searching the carriages, but at the same time, the platform had turned into nothing but an open space for people to gather as they waited for a hope that wasn’t coming to save them.

The information displayed on screens around was outdated and thus inaccurate, which made sense because there wasn’t anyone to update them now that transport services had been shut down. The ticket office some distance away was abandoned and Ga-on could see some people seeking shelter inside, though it looked far from comfortable. They’d probably been infected already and were just waiting for death to approach. He scanned the area with his eyes, trying to find any useful clues.

Maybe he should just call it a day and head back before he put himself in more danger. After all, he was pretty sure that if he stayed out for too long, Yo-han would come looking for him, and if Ga-on was gone by that time, then it surely wouldn’t end well. Still, it didn’t feel right to go back now as he’d have wasted precious time and even if he knew that Yo-han wouldn’t be upset with him, he’d feel bad anyway.

He noticed a few detached carriages in the distance and decided that he’d make a detour around the station to check them out. It shouldn’t take more than a couple of minutes and he’d be relatively safe if he stayed far from the crowded areas. At least, that way, he’d have some information to share with the rest of the group. So Ga-on slowly started backing away from the platform he was on, fortunately going unnoticed, and jogged towards the trains he’d spotted.

Coincidentally enough, the South platform had several trains on its tracks. Some of which, however, had been derailed for reasons that Ga-on was pretty sure he could figure out. Corpses lined some of the tracks, positioned as if they’d been trying to board a train that was gone. Ga-on wondered what’d happened to those who’d left. Perhaps the trains had carried infected people and everyone on board had perished --- that was the most likely case. Otherwise, they’d probably have ended up stuck between borders.

Focus, he reminded himself, stopping when he reached the part of the station which was closest to the carriages. But that was where his journey had to end. It wasn’t possible to get any closer, he realised, because he could see people wandering the tracks. And although it was hard to tell if they were really infected or just in a bad state, the pandemic had created an unspoken rule: Do not interact with anyone that you don’t already know.

Ga-on sighed, retreating one step and about to turn around, only to feel a tap on his shoulder. He flinched, turning around and ready to throw a punch on instinct, until he saw a familiar face and took a double take in shock.

“Jin-joo-ssi,” he said, his surprise showing discernibly in his voice, “why are you here?”

“Are you alone?” Jin-joo returned a question first. “Where’s Chief?”

“In the car,” Ga-on answered, glancing around to make sure that no one else was around to potentially pose a threat. “Why did you come here?”

Jin-joo lowered her volume significantly. “I was looking for you guys,” she said. “I figured that after knowing about the train, you’d come here.”

Ga-on nodded, but before he had the opportunity to say anything else, the woman was talking again.

“Look, I need to go soon, so listen carefully. The train departs the day after tomorrow, at exactly midnight. That means you have less than 48 hours to figure out what to do about...the others.”

“The others,” Ga-on repeated. “Are they here too?”

Shaking her head, Jin-joo replied, “I came alone. The others...well, Chairman Min was infected before the two of you visited yesterday and though they locked him in an isolated room, it’s only a matter of time before the rest of them get infected.” She sighed, looking distressed.

Hesitantly, Ga-on asked, “What about you?”

Jin-joo rolled up the lower half of her shirt, revealing a bandage around her abdomen. “Jung Sun-ah and I were the first victims of Chairman Min,” she explained. “He managed to escape and attacked us shortly after you left yesterday, and then the rest tried to lock us up too, but I ran away before they got the chance.”

“What the hell...”

The woman let her shirt fall back down. “Somehow, the two of us weren’t affected in any way besides the wounds, even after nearly a whole day. Or more than that, by now.”

They’re immune, Ga-on realised, feeling a bit bitter that the one who’d caused Soo-hyun to end up the way she currently was had been fortunate enough to be immune to the virus. He wanted to tell Jin-joo about it, but there wasn’t time to explain something that wasn’t too crucial.

“But that’s besides the point,” Jin-joo’s continued, words increasingly hasty. “What I want to say is, look for the red single-carriage train near the South platform, two days from now at midnight. You might have to run a short distance but it won’t be much. Whatever it is, don’t be late because that’s the only train that’ll be leaving for a long time.”

“The red single-carriage train, two days from now, at midnight,” Ga-on confirmed.

Jin-joo nodded. “Exactly. Don’t be late; you won’t get another chance.”

Knowing that she was alone, Ga-on offered, “Do you want to come with us?”

However, Jin-joo shook her head to politely decline. “I can’t,” she told him, “not until I find my brother.”

At that, Ga-on nodded in understanding. “Thank you, Jin-joo-ssi.”

The woman smiled, then as if she’d suddenly remembered something, her eyes lit up. “One more thing,” she said, fishing for something in her pocket. “Open your hand.”

Confused, Ga-on did as told and Jin-joo pressed a black thumb drive into his palm, closing his fingers over it. Her gaze was earnest, locked onto his eyes.

“Jung Sun-ah passed this to me before I escaped and told me to keep it safe,” she informed Ga-on, letting go once he had secured his grip over the small item. “I didn’t get to check its contents, but I’m sure that Chief will know what to do with it.”

“...I’ll let him know,” the man agreed, thanking his former co-worker once more.

The woman began to back away gradually. “Stay safe, all of you.”

“We will,” Ga-on promised, “and you too.”

And with that, Jin-joo smiled again. “I’ll see you guys in two days.” She was gone before he could reply.

“Jung Sun-ah passed this to her?” Yo-han clarified for the second time, as if it was that hard to believe. He took the thumb drive when Ga-on passed it to him and plugged it into his laptop.

“It sounded important,” Ga-on mused as he watched the contents load, revealing a single file.

Yo-han hummed in acknowledgement and clicked the file to open it. “It’s encrypted,” he announced, leaning back against his chair’s backrest with a sigh. “We need a passcode to access it.”

“To access what?”

Ga-on turned to the entrance of the study, where Elijah had a mildly smug look on her face. “Just in time,” he said, pointing towards the laptop. “Will you be able to get past the encryption?”

“Of course,” Elijah answered pronto, wheeling herself over and taking the device from her uncle. “It’ll just take a few minutes.” She began to type at the keyboard and then waited for her application to work its magic. “So what did the two of you find?”

“There’s a train,” Ga-on told her, “and it’s departing in less than two days.”

“That’s good news,” the girl replied. “Do we have its location?”

Glad to share the good news, Ga-on nodded. “A red single-carriage train near the South platform.”

“That should be easy enough to find.” Elijah shrugged. “I guess...maybe we’re really getting out of here.”

“We are.” Ga-on smiled. And once they did, everything would be much, much better.

If his life was a roller coaster, then this was one of the lowest points, alongside his parents’ death. But the thing about hitting rock bottom was that Ga-on knew that things could only improve hereafter. The worst had already happened and he didn’t think anything else could possibly wreck him any further.

“So what about those people?” the girl asked curiously. “The President and whoever’s with him, I mean.”

Ga-on had yet to figure that out. Yo-han, on the other hand, seemed to have plans.

“We just have to get rid of them before they get to board the train,” the man asserted. “Before they can get to the station, in fact.”

“You’re planning to go to the Blue House?” Ga-on guessed.

“If I have to, I don’t see why not.”

“They’d probably have lost their minds by then,” Elijah predicted, tapping away on the keys again. “Or at least, most of them would’ve. Though I wouldn’t be surprised if they’d want to get to the station anyhow.”

Ga-on recalled Jin-joo’s words. “The situation sounded dire.”

“No shit.” Seconds later, Elijah returned the laptop back to Yo-han. “There, done.”

Shuffling closer to Yo-han on the couch, Ga-on looked at the screen. “Virus X-58,” he read the title on the first page and his eyes scanned the contents of the file as Yo-han began to scroll down.

It started out with simple information about the virus and a simple letter signed off by Heo Joong-se, but then progressed to clinical trial results and the transcript of several experiments in which subjects had come into contact with the virus. There were images too, many of which showed people who’d been terribly mutilated, some so severe that they didn’t look human anymore.

Ga-on felt sick in the stomach and had to shut his eyes a few times. He didn’t know how Yo-han was reading it with a blank face, but knowing the man, he shouldn’t be that surprised. He wondered what Jin-joo would think if she knew about the file. Unlike him, she hadn’t been exposed to the wickedness of the group of high-class individuals, at least not that he knew of.

“What the hell,” Ga-on mumbled, fingers clenched over the fabric of his pants. “What the hell is this?!” Beside him, Yo-han’s breathing got thicker and slower, like he was trying to process a load of information that’d been dumped on him. “Yo-han, what---”

“I’m reading,” Yo-han deadpanned, looking more serious than Ga-on had ever seen him be.

Opposite them, with an impatient look on her face, Elijah frowned. “What’s going on?” she asked, but her question went unheard.

Test Number: 31
Subject Information: Male (45 years old)
Medical Record(s): -
Results: Subject 31 passed away in less than a day from infection. He displayed milder symptoms than the previous subjects and passed away in a shorter time. Further tests should be conducted to verify the accuracy of this result. However, this has been the most successful test thus far.

Test Number: 32
Subject Information: Female (18 years old)
Medical Record(s): -
Results: Subject 32 quickly displayed intense aggressive behaviour and had to be promptly disposed of within an hour. It is much to our regret that we did not get any useful results from her. We will do our best to ensure that this does not occur again.

Test Number: 33
Subject Information: Male (13 years old)
Medical Record(s): -
Results: Subject 33 was more quiet than other subjects and remained in a corner of the room for the first day. He was well-fed but suffered from a severe nosebleed after 22 hours. At the 27-hour mark, Subject 33 started to tear his skin out and died by the 29th hour due to excessive bleeding.

Test Number: 34
Subject Information: Female (34 years old)
Medical Record(s): Kidney transplant (1 year ago)
Results: Subject 34 seemed to have lost her mind within 22 hours and bled to death after repeatedly pounding her head on the glass.

Test Number: 35
Subject Information: Female (28 years old)
Medical Record(s): -
Results: Subject 35 was abnormally calm. However, when we sent a doctor in to check on her at the 23-hour mark, she attacked him viciously. Unfortunately, we had to dispose of her due to her dangerous tendencies of aggression. Our condolences go to the doctor who passed away.

Test Number: 36
Subject Information: Male (68 years old)
Medical Record(s): -
Results: Subject 36 displayed similar results to Subject 31. He passed away promptly and relatively painlessly, much to our pleasant surprise. As the virus is blood-borne, it is projected to be easily contained, so long as any infected patients are quickly isolated. It may be best to cease experimentation and proceed.

Ga-on’s throat was dry by the time he was finally able to take his eyes off the report. “This...it doesn’t make sense...” he maffled with an ironic laugh, as if he couldn’t believe that any of this was real. “Yo-han, this...”

The other man appeared sombre, like he was deep in thought.

The symptoms were far too similar for all this to be a coincidence. Furthermore, why would Sun-ah have passed the thumb drive to Jin-joo for no good reason? And yet, it was hard to think about what all of this was implying --- that nothing thus far had been the fault of nature itself.

There had been a virus, and it had been made to kill. But like any project without adequate examination, it’d failed and ended up backfiring into a disaster. And all this while, no one had suspected any foul play. Who would’ve been able to come up with such an absurd possibility? It was one thing for Heo Joong-se and his group to lie about the existence of a virus, but it was a whole other level to substantiate their claim with this sort of malicious scheme.

“Let me see.” Disliking how she was the only one who still didn’t know what was going on, Elijah took the laptop, skimming through the file. Ga-on watched as her expression changed from one of confusion to one of horror. “What the hell?!” Her scrolling got faster and faster until she glanced up to meet Ga-on’s gaze, then her uncle’s. “Kang Yo-han, what is this?!”

“Isn’t it clear?” Yo-han retorted, brushing his hair back with his fingers as he released a sharp sigh. If Ga-on didn’t know better, he’d have thought that the man was unaffected, but he could tell that Yo-han was just as shocked as he was. “The Plague isn’t just a normal virus. It was man-made, Elijah. And endorsed by the President himself, no less.”

“Tch,” Elijah clicked her tongue lightly, shoving the laptop back at Yo-han. “Just...what the hell is wrong with him?! What kind of President...dammit, just to prove that his excuse wasn’t a lie and now that it’s out of control, he wants to flee?”

Ga-on only sat dumbfounded as the uncle-niece pair continued to talk. How could this be? It felt like a plot out of a fictional movie, and yet...here he was, living it in the flesh.

“They need to know,” he finally spoke up, eyes flashing with determination. “Whatever’s left of Korea needs to know the truth. They deserve to.”

“They do,” Elijah agreed, a little quieter than before. “We have to---”

The three of them flinched as a blood-curdling scream resonated through the mansion.

“Soo-hyun,” Ga-on recognised the voice despite how inhuman it sounded. “Something happened.”

He was on his feet in an instant and the three of them headed in the direction that the sound had come from. Footsteps thundered in the corridor, yet unable to drown out the screams the screams didn’t stop. Ga-on could hear the sounds of limbs crashing against walls and pressing calls for assistance.

Ga-on felt his heart drop at the sight of K restraining Soo-hyun as much as he could, while the woman’s eyes were almost all white and her skin was tainted with dark blue veins. Fluid of a similar colour was overflowing from her mouth, splattering all over the ground as she made beastly noises, trying to writhe her way out of K’s grip.

She kicked and slammed her arms on the walls, like she was a stranger to pain and couldn’t feel a thing. And when she cried out, all that came out of her mouth were unintelligible noises. It was a petrifying sight, and at the same time, it was a devastating one because Ga-on knew that the woman who now seemed like a monster was not just anyone but the childhood friend that he’d grown up with. He’d known her for longer than he hadn’t known her and to see her in this state was breaking his heart.

“We were just talking,” K explained between ragged grunts, “and then she went silent and the next thing I know, she’s trying to claw me to death.”

“Knock her out,” Yo-han instructly gravely. And when nobody made a move, he raised his voice slightly. “Someone bring something that we can use!”

Understanding the severity of the situation, Elijah wheeled herself away and came back with a large wooden bat that Ga-on had no idea how she’d gotten. Yo-han knocked the woman out in one blow and she went limp, slumping against the wall the moment K let her go.

Noticing Ga-on stoning at the sight and not moving in the slightest, Yo-han said harshly, “Kim Ga-on, snap out of it.”

And the younger man did, taking deep breaths like he’d just finished a marathon.

“Are you alright?” he heard Yo-han ask K.

“Fine,” K responded, though clutching his side. “I’ll take her to the guest room.”

Yo-han shook his head. “I’ll go do it. You get yourself fixed up and Elijah, take care of Ga-on.”

Ga-on only calmed down when it was just Elijah and him left in the hallway. “Ga-on, are you okay?” Elijah asked, her gaze laced with concern. “I’ll get you some water, wait here.”

“It’s fine,” Ga-on quickly said, faking a smile. “I’ll be fine.”

The girl looked sceptical. “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” the man confirmed, “but I think we should check on K.”

Tension lingered in the air for the rest of the day. Everyone had something they wanted to say, yet no one had the courage to be the first. Ga-on stirred his ramyeon, watching the steam rise into the air and then vanish as if it’d never been there.

He was pretty sure that for as long as he lived, he’d never be able to forget the traumatic scene he’d just witnessed. Whether it was Soo-hyun or a stranger, being so close to something like that was incredibly chilling. And after that, Ga-on couldn’t help but worry that this wouldn’t be the last time that he’d be faced with that sort of situation.

The moment he closed his eyes, he saw Soo-hyun’s face, skin tattered with blood and eyes painted with dark veins that shouldn’t be there. Sometimes, he saw Yo-han’s face instead. And then, he’d open his eyes and search frantically for the man, only feeling relief wash over him when he’d located him, safe and sound.

Ga-on had never wished this much that he could change the world.

Though they’d locked Soo-hyun in the guest room and Ga-on doubted that she’d wake up so soon, he could still hear her ghostly cries echoing around the mansion. Chills shot down his spine whenever he passed by the room in the hallway. He was afraid of what they’d find when they checked on her the next morning.

Needless to say, the plan to play games together was called off. Ga-on stayed as close as he could to the others for the rest of the day, like he was scared that if he strayed too far away, he’d lose them for good. And Yo-han seemed to notice, for he gave Ga-on a comforting pat on the back whenever their eyes met. The atmosphere in the mansion, however, had dampened greatly to the extent that Ga-on almost likened it to a graveyard in his head. He’d never have imagined the day that he couldn’t wait to get out of this place.

But now, all he wanted was for the rest of them to make it to Daegu, where they’d be able to, hopefully, leave behind the past and start again. As much as he didn’t want to admit, he knew that Soo-hyun was beyond salvation. There was no known cure for the virus, after all, and even if there was, they wouldn’t get their hands on it in time. Ga-on knew that he had to let go, whether or not he wanted to.

Maybe when they got to Daegu, the remaining four of them could live together, like a family. He’d love to go back to what they used to be, with K joining them this time. They could have meals together, play together, and if it wasn’t too much to ask, he could make up to Yo-han all the times he’d done him wrong, and he could love.

Ga-on lost his family when he was sixteen. Soo-hyun then became his only family, until he’d met Yo-han and suddenly, his world had started to become a brighter one again. He found family, he found love, and he found everything he’d thought that he’d lost for good when his parents had passed away. And to know that he could lose all of it in an instant was the most frightening thought that haunted his head.

If only time could freeze in this moment, where he still had everything by his side. Where he could fall asleep to Yo-han’s steady heartbeat, finding a peace that had become scarce; where he could prepare food for his found family, even if it was just instant ramyeon; where Soo-hyun wasn’t gone yet, no matter if she would be soon.

As he choked back a broken sob, he looked up to see Yo-han walking in with two glasses of water in hand. The man joined him on the couch, passing him a glass.

“Drink,” he said.

Ga-on obeyed, sipping the cold water.

Watching him, Yo-han asked, “Are you okay?” From the corner of his eye, Ga-on could see Yo-han reaching for his hand, only to catch himself and retract it, pretending that he’d never moved in the first place.

It was Ga-on’s first instinct to lie that he was fine, but as he remembered that this was Yo-han, the one person that he felt like he could be honest to without guilt, he shook his head.

“I understand,” Yo-han said softly, and two words alone were enough to warm Ga-on’s heart for the moment. “Can I do anything to help? I’ll get you some food, maybe. You barely touched your ramyeon---”

“Stay,” Ga-on replied, looking earnestly at Yo-han as he held loosely onto the man’s wrist to stop him from standing up. “Just...stay.”

Without protest, Yo-han sat back down and made himself comfortable on the sofa as Ga-on moved closer to lean on him. Yo-han seemed stiff at first, but soon enough, he began to relax.

And neither had to speak a word. Even in the silence, Ga-on felt a little better, knowing that he wasn’t alone.

Knowing that Yo-han was still with him.

It was around two hours to midnight when K walked into the study.

In the rare peace of the night, something that Ga-on had begun to appreciate greatly, all that was heard were the sounds of birds chirping and trees rustling. Outside, the sky was a dark palette of blue and black, with stars splattered across the vast night sky.

The same sky that had watched Ga-on grow up; the same sky that would watch over him for the rest of his life. Ga-on took comfort in that, knowing that in the rapidly changing world, there were still some things that kept constant.

“K? Is something the matter?” Yo-han asked, wondering why the man had yet to go to sleep like he’d done by this time for the nights before.

LIfting his head off Yo-han’s shoulder, Ga-on listened curiously as they spoke.

“Nothing, sir,” K responded. “I just wanted to thank you.”

Yo-han looked puzzled and so did Ga-on. “What for?” the older man asked, standing up to walk closer, as if he’d sensed that something was amiss.

“For everything,” the other said. “From the moment I met you, you’ve been nothing but good to me.”

“Don’t put it like that,” Yo-han chided, putting a hand on K’s shoulder. “You have plenty of time to thank me in the future.”

K maintained steady eye contact and Ga-on saw him flash a smile for the first time. “Still, sir,” he said, “thank you for everything you’ve done for me.”

Yo-han looked uncertain. “I didn’t do that much.”

“You did enough,” K disagreed. “When my father died, I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t have anywhere to go. But you took me in, and you...” He seemed to hesitate with his words. “And you became family to me,” he finally finished. When Yo-han didn’t speak, K looked as if he was fretting that he’d said something wrong. “Sorry, I---”

“You’re like family to me too.”

K looked stunned.

“You have been,” the older man continued, “for a long time.” He fidgeted a little, like saying this was something unusual to him. “We’re almost done here and once we’re in Daegu, you should stay with us. Or not, if you’d prefer that. Anything, as long as you’re happy with it.”

“Thank you for the offer,” K started, “but I think it’ll be better if I didn’t impose on you any further.”

“Ah,” Yo-han sighed, looking away. “I’m not used to this much sincerity.” He lowered his gaze, letting out a small huff and then looking back up with a smile that almost went unnoticed. He reached his hand out, wiping a semi-dried but obvious stain of blood off the top of K’s lip. “You’re not imposing on me. But if you really want to leave, I won’t oppose it, so long as you make sure to live well.”

For a moment so quick that Ga-on might’ve imagined it all, K’s smile hid a hint of sadness. “I understand.” He looked at Yo-han, then at Ga-on, and then back at Yo-han again. “Sleep well,” he told them before he left.

(And Ga-on couldn’t pinpoint why, but for some reason, it sounded more like a goodbye.)

“It’s less than 24 hours till the train leaves,” Ga-on thought out loud as he lay in bed with Yo-han, hugging the latter from behind. It’d come naturally, like the two of them had made an unuttered pact to drop any boundaries the moment night fell. It fueled Ga-on’s desires a little, making him long for the day that it’d extend beyond sunrise too.

As much as both of them knew that it would be a long day ahead, neither could calm down enough to get some rest. Still, by some miracle or whatnot, exhaustion couldn’t catch up to them fast enough. Ga-on was certain that once they were out of the city, he’d finally crash out and get a good night’s sleep.

“It feels so far away,” Yo-han lamented.

Ga-on made a soft sound of agreement. “But once it gets closer, it’ll feel like too little time.”

The other shifted in his arms, making himself comfortable. “I guess.”

“What do you want to do after this?” Ga-on asked, searching for Yo-han’s fingers and slipping his own between them.

“Hm?”

“Once we’re out of here, I mean.”

Yo-han chuckled. “I haven’t thought about that,” he admitted. “I don’t think there’s much left for us in Korea, though. At least not for a long while.”

It was sad to think about that, but Ga-on knew that his home country wouldn’t be the same for years, or maybe it’ll never be the same again. “Then where do you want to go?”

He felt Yo-han shrug subtly. “Maybe Switzerland, to find a way for Elijah to walk again.”

“That’s across the globe, isn’t it?” Ga-on pointed out.

“I’ve been donating to this organisation that might be able to help her,” the other man explained. “Even if we have to travel, it’ll be worth it.”

“Ah, I’m sure she’ll be happy to hear that.”

“I hope so,” Yo-han concurred, “and it’s not like I have much left in Korea anyway.” Then after a short pause, he added at a much lower volume, “If you come with us, that is.”

“I will,” Ga-on responded in a heartbeat.

He worried that he’d been too hasty when Yo-han was quiet, but then he heard Yo-han speak again, albeit he seemed insecure. “You will?”

“Yo-han-ah,” Ga-on murmured, planting a light kiss to the other’s nape, “I won’t leave your side again, not unless you want me to.”

“...Promise?” Yo-han sounded hopeful.

“Promise.”

He didn’t have to look to tell that Yo-han was smiling. “Then it’s settled...we’ll go there together.”

Ga-on held him close. “Yeah,” he agreed. “Together.”

At three in the morning, a spine-chilling shriek followed by the sounds of bodies slamming against hard surfaces shook the whole mansion awake. Ga-on was out of bed the very minute it began and he nudged Yo-han, earning a look of confusion from the older man.

Yo-han groaned, getting out of bed and rubbing his temple to soothe a rising headache. “Let’s go,” he said, heading to the door with an arm around Ga-on’s waist.

Elijah met them on the way to the source of the mayhem --- the guest room.

The three of them stood warily in front of the door, hearing the noises getting louder and louder like it was a crescendo nearing its highest point. Curiosity and panic were bugs infesting Ga-on’s mind and they ate at him, urging him to check out what was going on inside.

But even then, he knew better than to open the door, and judging from the way that nobody budged, the others knew the same.

“At this rate, it’s gonna attract too much attention,” Elijah said in a displeased voice. “Yo-han, what do we do?”

“We can’t go in,” Yo-han immediately answered, as if any of them even wanted to get close to what was going on inside. “We just have to wait for it to calm down.”

Elijah raised an eye at him. “Will it?”

Yo-han said nothing.

It wasn’t as if any of them could provide a satisfactory response to that question. Ga-on himself felt like he was at a loss, no longer knowing what to think, what to feel, except for that fear that’d begun to make its nest in him.

What surprised him the most, however, was that his mindset had changed. He’d stopped being afraid for the people that were far too gone to be saved. He’d started to learn to let go and it was as he stood by the door that he realised that he’d stopped fearing for Soo-hyun. Seeing her pain, her suffering, he knew that she’d be happier if it was over for her. And now all that he feared for was himself and the people that he still had.

The screams got louder and more tumultuous and Ga-on had half an urge to turn around and retreat from the scene. He looked at Yo-han, who was staring at the door, and then at Elijah, who was staring at Yo-han. Ga-on knew that Soo-hyun was inside but as he heard the dreadful sounds coming from behind the door, it’d become no more than a monstrosity in that room. Soo-hyun was gone, he understood, and he would never get her back.

Ga-on’s ears rang as the cries peaked in intensity and he held his breath.

And then as abruptly as it’d started, the noise ceased.

“I’ll stand guard,” Yo-han said without taking his eyes off the door. “Elijah, get me the bat, and Ga-on, get K.”

With a quick nod, Ga-on hurried off to Yo-han’s old room, which had now become K’s room. He knocked several times and when he didn’t get a response, he opened the door carefully.

“K?” he called.

Silence.

His footsteps were brisk into the room and at the sight of an empty bed, he froze. Dread washed over Ga-on as he began to piece the puzzle together in his head. He took an unsteady step back, then turned and bolted down the hallway back to where the others were.

Ga-on didn’t know K that well. But when they’d met along with the other members of their little group, he’d found familiarity in K’s family background, and he’d thought that maybe, once the whole fight against the elite was over, the two of them could be friends. They had so much in common, after all. Both had lost their parents in similar ways and then both had met Yo-han who’d changed their lives.

Now, that was nothing but a fat chance, and if he’d picked up the clues right, then there wasn’t even a chance at all. It felt like a loss that he hadn’t thought of till it’d happened.

No wonder, he recalled. No wonder it felt like goodbye.

“Where’s K?” Elijah asked as soon as Ga-on returned, though from the look on her face as well as that of Yo-han, the pair had already figured out what was going on.

“He’s already here,” Ga-on said in a tiny voice. “He’s inside the room.”

Yo-han’s hand was on the knob in a flash and he turned it. The door didn’t open. “It’s locked,” he deduced aloud. “They locked it last night.” He looked at Ga-on and for the first time, it looked like Yo-han was completely lost.

“Should we go in?” the girl queried.

But the man shook his head. “It’s too late,” he said. “They’re gone.”

A fragment of silence passed like eons compressed into a single second. Yo-han fell to his knees, and then Ga-on scrambled next to him, reaching out to him and holding him in a gentle embrace.

At first, neither said a word. Even if he wanted to, Ga-on didn’t know what to say.

It’s okay? his brain suggested. But it wasn’t okay.

It’ll be fine? But he wasn’t sure anymore.

And eventually, Ga-on simply said, “I’ll be here for you.”

Seated around the dining table, the three remaining survivors were silent.

Hours had passed, but none of them were in the mood to be doing anything. There was so much that could be said, yet nobody had the guts to speak, and nobody knew how to start even if they did.

While Ga-on had already seen this coming from a mile away, it felt different to actually know that it’d happened, that it was part of his new reality. It made him feel helpless, as if he was merely a bystander that could only watch the world fall apart around him. He didn’t like that.

“I should’ve sensed that something was wrong,” Yo-han muttered after what seemed like forever. He stared at the bread that they’d decided to have for breakfast but didn’t even touch it. “I should’ve known that he wouldn’t be sentimental for no reason.”

“He would’ve done it either way,” Ga-on tried to convince him that it wasn’t his fault, and although Yo-han frowned, it was obvious to them that it was true.

The older man clasped his fingers together, elbows on the table, and leaned forward to rest his head on his hands. “We were so close; we just had to board the train tonight.”

Ga-on could do nothing but wordlessly agree.

“What do we do now?” Elijah asked quietly, sensing discomfort but knowing that to give up would be to waste all the sacrifices and progress thus far.

“We have to get to Daegu,” Yo-han replied before Ga-on had the chance, “no matter what.”

There was unspoken agreement between the trio.

So much had happened in less than a week. In fact, it’d only been around four days since the start of what seemed like an apocalypse for the whole of Korea, perhaps even more. And yet, the day that Ga-on had walked out of the Kang’s mansion seemed like months ago in his head.

And in just those few days, he’d already lost so much. His job, his ordinary life, and most of all, his best friend. Ga-on hoped that at least, she wasn’t in pain anymore. If she was still able to talk to him, he was pretty sure that she’d tell him to keep moving, to make it to Daegu at all costs, just like she’d made him promise that night.

It’d been a hard promise to make back then, but now that she was gone, he realised how much stronger his resolve to survive was. He wanted to get to Daegu, and not just by himself but with Yo-han and Elijah. He still had things to lose. He still had people to lose. And he wasn’t willing to let himself lose anything more than he already had.

As the cat on her lap jumped onto the table and curled up to nap, Elijah sighed. Part of Ga-on envied how carefree the animal could be, ignorant of the chaos. “Have we figured out how to get rid of the others?” the girl inquired.

Yo-han and Ga-on answered with opposing answers at the same time and then all eyes were on the former.

“You have?” Ga-on asked.

Determination was evident in Yo-han’s eyes as he declared, “I have.”

“What is it?” Elijah tilted her head to the side.

Instead of revealing his idea, Yo-han shook his head. “Don’t worry about it,” he said, leaning back and crossing his arms. “I’ll settle it.”

Ga-on and Elijah exchanged glances. But curious as they were, both knew better than to argue.

“Where are you going?”

Yo-han spun around like a deer caught in headlights. “Ga-on? What are you doing here?”

“You weren’t in the study.” Ga-on walked over to the man who was standing by the mansion’s doorway. “Where are you going?”

“I’ll be back soon,” the other evaded the question.

Ga-on reached out to grab his wrist. “I’ll come with you,” he insisted.

However, Yo-han only shook his grip off, gently but firmly. “Someone needs to stay with Elijah in case anything happens,” he said, albeit Ga-on could tell that he had other reasons he wasn’t telling. “I’ll be back in a few hours.”

“Promise?” Ga-on pleaded.

He didn’t miss the way that Yo-han hesitated. “Promise.”

The older man took a few steps out, only to stop and turn around. “If,” he said, “and just if, I’m not back by two hours to midnight, take Elijah and leave without me.”

Ga-on felt his heart stop. He didn’t want to consider the possibility, yet the way Yo-han said it made him feel like he was watching his loved one go out to war. “You have to come back,” Ga-on said, a painful gaze directed at his companion. “Please.”

Yo-han’s expression was unreadable. “Don’t miss the train, no matter what.”

He left with those words, leaving a inauspicious feeling washing over Ga-on’s body as he turned back to look into the house, seeing Elijah wheeling herself over as though she could tell that something must’ve just happened. By the time he looked back at where Yo-han had been, the man was gone.

“Where’s he?” Elijah asked, undoubtedly referring to her uncle.

Ga-on was unable to hide his worry. “He said that he’ll be back soon.”

“You didn’t go with him?”

“He told me to stay here with you,” Ga-on explained. Knowing that someone had to be calm, he wore a half-hearted smile. “It’s okay, he’ll---”

“I’ll be fine on my own.”

Ga-on shut up at the interruption.

“Stay here,” the girl murmured, wheeling herself away down the hallway and coming back several minutes later. “Catch.”

She tossed Ga-on a set of car keys that he caught in midair.

“Go after him,” she continued, sounding sure of herself. “He’s too reckless to be left alone.” She moved herself closer, pushing him gently out the door. “I can take care of myself. Just come back with him, please.”

Then Ga-on was gone, rushing to where the cars were parked and getting into one. Yo-han hadn’t told him where he was going, but Ga-on was almost certain that he knew where Yo-han would be. He began to drive, headed in the direction that they’d gone two days ago.

Ga-on finally understood the feeling of caring about nothing but his destination. The car ran over more than a hundred people throughout the journey, both dead and alive. And Ga-on had shuddered each time he felt the crunch of the bones at first, but then slowly, they became nothing but background noise to him.

The roads were rather empty, as if the havoc had finally begun to die down. Most people that he noticed were already dead or at the verge of death, making him feel like he was truly in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, just like in the movies or in one of his childhood nightmares. Except that this time, Ga-on knew that he wasn’t going to wake up.

The more he thought about it, the more he had a bad foreboding about what was going on. Yo-han always came up with all sorts of unthinkable ideas and danger was often the last thing on his mind. What if he did something impulsive? Ga-on pressed his lips into a thin line, stepping down harder on the accelerator. Every speck of time could ultimately matter a lot.

He’d only been to the Blue House once, but thanks to his memory and (a lot of) desperation, he was able to locate the house, only losing his way once or twice but getting back on track promptly. He parked the car where it wouldn’t be found and ran across the once lush, green grass that had now started to wither, signalling the arrival of death. The air reeked of blood and he caught sight of some dead bodies around, belonging to the guards that had greeted Yo-han and him the last time they’d visited.

And there, at the entrance of the Blue House, was Kang Yo-han.

Ga-on called his name, feeling time slowing down as he rushed over, just as the other halted and turned around. “What are you doing?” he asked, looking into Yo-han’s eyes. In his gaze, Ga-on could see a mixture of hatred and a burning desire to tear the house down. It made him afraid, not of Yo-han but of what Yo-han was planning to do.

“Kim Ga-on,” Yo-han said sternly, clearly upset. “I thought I told you to stay at home.”

Ga-on looked as unyielding as he could. “Elijah said that she’d be fine on her own.”

“And you listened to her instead of me?” Yo-han shot.

Gritting his teeth, Ga-on took a step forward, only to freeze and step back when Yo-ha held out a lighter, the flame flickering at a single click. “I was worried about you,” he retorted, only to look down and notice the indistinct trail of gasoline that appeared to surround the Blue House.

Yo-han was silent.

Ga-on felt his heart stop.

“Kang Yo-han,” he said in a shaky voice, “what are you planning to do?”

Clicking the lighter again, Yo-han replied coldly, “I’m burning this place down.”

“It’s dangerous,” Ga-on picked his words carefully, as if the slightest mistake could ruin everything in an instant. “Step out of there and do it from outside.”

But Yo-han didn’t budge. “I’m going in,” he said, like he’d made up his mind a long time ago. “I told you to stay at home.”

“Then I’m going with---”

As soon as the lighter was pointed at him again, Ga-on cut himself off.

“You will not,” the older man demanded. “You will go back and do as I told you to.”

With danger at the back of his mind, Ga-on reached out to hold Yo-han’s wrist, not even considering for a second that the other could easily hurt him. He knew that Yo-han wouldn’t. “I’m not leaving you behind,” he said softly.

Yo-han licked his lips and turned away. “Just go,” he held his ground, tugging his wrist free. “Trust me, Ga-on, and go back. I still have business to settle with them.”

The moment Yo-han turned around, Ga-on stepped over the gasoline, but the former shot him a warning glare. “Step away,” he ordered harshly. “If you pass the line again, I’ll set the house on fire.”

It was an empty threat and Ga-on knew that, but he wasn’t willing to take the risk.

He took a step back.

“Trust me and return home,” Yo-han said once more. This time, his voice was surprisingly tender.

Ga-on remained where he was and watched Yo-han enter the house.

Five minutes later, the house burned before his eyes.

“KANG YO-HAN!” Ga-on shouted, breaking down the doors in his way and glancing around the first storey of the Blue House, trying to find any sign of Yo-han’s presence. Minutes after Yo-han had gone in and Ga-on was sure that he’d be able to sneak after him undetected, he’d followed the trail of gasoline on the ground.

But before he could figure out where to go next, a wave of fire burst out of one of the doors, startling him and forcing him to retreat. He could feel the heat piling up on his skin, tearing at his flesh. Flames danced through the hallways, coming closer and closer to where he was. Still, he pushed through, searching whatever place he could reach, only to no avail.

And when he felt like he was at the dead end of his capacity, he remembered that Elijah was still waiting for him.

Trust me, Yo-han’s words replayed in his mind.

Ga-on didn’t know what else he could do. He barely made it out of the house before it started to crumble.

“Yo-han,” he breathed, collapsing to his knees as he watched the Blue House burn.

Soot-stained tears rolled down his cheeks like a river, falling to the ground beneath him. “You said you wouldn’t leave...” he choked, as if the other would even hear his words.

He wanted to believe that Yo-han was still alive, but it was hard to do so when all he could see was thick, black smoke rising from the windows of the building and the fire that pranced around inside. He was far from the flames now, but the heat still itched and sweat still clogged his pores. If he listened hard enough, he could hear the screams and cries of the people in the building, begging for anyone to help them, even if they knew that nobody could.

And all he could feel was his world crashing, bringing down every last pillar that’d held him up from the day he’d first lost everything.

It’d been two days since the virus had overtaken the city. Soo-hyun and K were set to get more supplies in an hour but for now, the group of five had decided to spend some time in the living room, in one another’s company.

With Ga-on and Yo-han on the sofa, Elijah beside them, and Soo-hyun and K seated on chairs, they’d subconsciously ended up gathered in that one spot and from there, none of them showed any desire to move elsewhere. It was strange to consider, at least in Ga-on’s opinion, how it seemed almost like a family gathering.

Perhaps this was what they meant when they said that crises brought people together.

“It feels like it’s been forever since before the whole virus ordeal happened,” Soo-hyun lamented, leaning back and supporting herself with her palms. “I hardly remember what it felt like back then.”

“Less stressful,” K offered his input, to which the woman chuckled.

“Definitely,” she agreed, “a lot less stressful.” She lifted her gaze to stare at the ceiling, a distant smile forming slowly on her face. “I wonder what’s left of the RSI.”

Elijah pursed her lips as Kkomi jumped off the couch and went to Soo-hyun, who sat upright again and welcomed the cat with open arms. “What’s the last that you know?” the girl queried, observing as the cat curled up on the woman’s lap.

Soo-hyun shrugged. “I’m not sure, to be honest. I know that most of them ended up infected, but that’s about it.”

“Ah,” Elijah said. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” the woman responded. “I wasn’t close to any of them anyway.” But the sadness behind her eyes told a different story. Ga-on was sure that strangers or not, Soo-hyun would still feel upset about how things had turned out. “On the brighter side,” she continued, trying to remain optimistic, “I’ll have the chance to try a new job if we get out of Seoul.”

Curiously, Elijah cocked her head to the side. “You don’t want to continue being a cop?”

With a half-smile, Soo-hyun answered, “It’s not that I don’t want to, but...there are other things I’ve wanted to try out.”

It made sense, Ga-on thought. Soo-hyun had pretty much chosen her career with him in mind, but that also meant that she’d forsaken her own interests, ones that weren’t influenced by anybody else.

“Like what?” K inquired.

“Maybe working with animals,” the woman said with a genuine smile as she patted Kkomi gently. “Volunteering or something.”

K appeared surprised. “That’s...meaningful.”

Soo-hyun’s smile widened. “Isn’t it?” She looked happier than Ga-on had seen her be in quite some time. And then returning the question to K, she asked, “What about you?”

As if he’d never considered that before, K looked uncertain. He and Yo-han made eye contact for a second, the latter giving him an encouraging nod. K had, after all, been working with Yo-han for years.

“I don’t have anything particular in mind,” the man admitted. “I think I’d just like to try out as much as I can until I find something that I like.”

“Hm...sounds nice,” the former policewoman said.

Ga-on hadn’t spoken a word since the start of the conversation, yet he found it comforting enough just to listen. Some of them had been barely acquaintances or even strangers two days ago, but somehow, here they were now having a heart-to-heart talk.

He inadvertently directed a glimpse --- which ended up way longer than that --- at Yo-han, who was the only other who’d yet to speak as well. The man looked calm and if Ga-on looked closely enough, there was even the smallest trace of a smile on his face.

“Kang Yo-han,” he suddenly heard his best friend say, and he averted his eyes before anyone could catch him staring. He’d lost track of where the conversation had flowed to with just a moment’s absence.

Yo-han met Soo-hyun’s gaze, probing her to continue.

The woman let out a light laugh, realising that her tone had come out harsher than intended. By habit, probably, and Yo-han was rather amused, judging from his mien. Then Soo-hyun’s expression turned serious, albeit a warm smile remained visible. “Thank you,” she said, much to everyone’s puzzlement.

Raising an eye at her, Yo-han clarified, “For?”

“For letting me stay here, with the rest of you,” she explained. “I know I haven’t been that nice to you --- well, I haven’t been nice at all --- so I didn’t expect you to just...accept me into this group.”

“You’re not even close to as bad as a lot of the people I know,” Yo-han told her simply.

Soo-hyun chuckled nervously. “That day with Elijah...”

“I haven’t forgiven you for that, but if you protect her properly this time, I’ll consider.”

“Ah,” the woman exhaled. “I guess that’s...a relief.”

Ga-on watched as Yo-han broke into a hardly noticeable smile. “You only have Ga-on to thank.”

At the mention of his name, the younger man looked startled.

“Thank you, Ga-on-ah,” his childhood friend laughed. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Her words were a little dramatised to poke fun at him, but Ga-on could tell that they were heartfelt as well.

His eyes darted to Yo-han, who merely shrugged. “It’s nothing,” Ga-on dismissed the gratitude. He, of course, hadn’t planned to leave Soo-hyun behind in the first place. “I’m just happy to see everyone getting along.”

A beat of silence passed before Soo-hyun spoke again.

“If you guys don’t mind,” she said, picking her words carefully, “it would be nice if we could stay together even after this.”

“I don’t mind,” Elijah answered almost instantly.

And even though the city was slowly falling apart around him, Ga-on found it in his heart to smile.

By the time Ga-on managed to muster enough strength to drag himself back to the mansion, night had already arrived. The moon hung amidst the twinkling stars, shining light onto Ga-on’s path. It was a beautiful sight --- at least it would be on any other day --- but Ga-on felt numb to everything. All he could think of was Yo-han and how he’d lost him again, except that this time, it was for good.

Elijah greeted him at the doorstep, looking anxious when she realised that only Ga-on had returned. “Where’s Yo-han?”

Ga-on looked sadly at her. “I’ll make dinner,” he said instead, brushing past her and walking towards the kitchen.

“Kim Ga-on!” she called loudly and when he turned around, she spoke quietly. “Where is he?”

There was hurt written all over Ga-on’s face. “Gone,” he said. “He’s gone, Elijah.”

“He’s...” The girl’s voice trailed off.

Ga-on bit his lip and let the blood swarm within his mouth.

“Who killed him?” Elijah questioned bitterly.

“Nobody,” Ga-on replied, in a voice so tiny that he could barely hear himself. “He did it on his own.”

The girl’s expression fell. “Why?” she asked, a spark of desperation in her voice. “Why did he do it?!”

“I don’t know.” The man’s words were strained and distressed. “He took them down but I don’t know why he had to go with them.”

Elijah began to sob and Ga-on almost did the same, even if his eyes had already been drained of tears.

He averted his eyes, holding back tears because someone had to remain strong. “I’ll make dinner,” he said again. “I promised him that I would get us to Daegu.”

He walked away before Elijah could respond because he knew that he’d be unable to hold his emotions in any longer if she did.

The two barely spoke for the rest of the night till it was time to depart.

“Are you ready to go?” Ga-on asked, taking whatever he deemed important to him in the house, including a few of Yo-han’s belongings. His throat felt dry and he was hardly clinging onto himself, finding just enough determination to get the remaining two of them to the station.

Elijah nodded meekly, but as she looked around the study, it was obvious that she couldn’t bear to leave. After all, she’d grown up in this house and for a good many years of her life, she’d had happy memories of this place. “Do you think,” she said, even if she already knew the answer, “we’ll be able to come back here again?”

Kneeling beside her, Ga-on hugged her as if she was the only thing he had left. “I don’t know,” he said honestly, because to lie would be meaningless now. “Maybe someday we will, but we won’t know until it happens.”

“Give me a few minutes,” the girl requested feebly. “I just...want to look around one last time.”

Understanding, Ga-on let her go.

With nothing else to do, and feeling nostalgic himself, Ga-on decided to take a walk in the house as well. How long had it been since he’d first moved here? A few months or less? Somehow, even in that little time, it’d become a home to him, more than his own apartment was.

He walked to the kitchen, staring at the dining table as memories began to worm their way into his head. He saw the three of them --- Yo-han, Elijah, and himself --- seated around the table and having a meal together, the uncle-niece pair seeming more carefree than he’d ever seen them, and closer as well. He remembered cooking for them, having one of them walk in halfway and ask what he was making, causing his heart to swell as he felt like they were a family.

It made him happy whenever he saw that they liked what he’d made. Food was what had initially gotten Elijah to warm up to him --- that time he’d made toast for her in the morning --- and it was also how he’d shown his care for the Kangs, particularly by making dinner for Yo-han to curb his unhealthy eating habits. Cooking for someone, essentially, was Ga-on’s best way to show that he loved them.

He ran his finger over the table’s surface, over the back of the chair that Yo-han often took when they sat down for meals. He could practically picture the man’s smile in his head, one that he’d found attractive from the very moment he’d first laid his eyes on it. He was so different when he was at work as compared to at home and it made Ga-on feel lucky to be able to see that other side of Yo-han.

Tears weighed down on his lashes and Ga-on had to tilt his head up to stop them from flowing down. He looked around the kitchen one last time, then exited and travelled along the hallway to Yo-han’s bedroom.

Or well, for the past few nights, it’d been his bedroom too. Walking in, the image of Yo-han on the bed, slapping Ga-on’s hand away after a nightmare, appeared. That had been shortly after the younger man had moved in, when he’d first begun to learn of the trauma that the person who was so dangerous to everyone else was hiding.

It was the first time that Ga-on looked at Yo-han and realised that perhaps they had something in common. Back then, he wouldn’t have expected that someday he’d be sleeping in that bed too. If anyone had told him that someday he and Yo-han would fall asleep in a tangle of limbs, he’d have laughed and told them that it was ridiculous. But from the first night they’d slept together, Ga-on had decided that he wanted it for the rest of his life.

Reaching the bed, Ga-on took one of the pillows, hugging it to his chest. Yo-han’s scent was still fresh on the cover, almost enough for Ga-on to forget that he was gone. “Yo-han-ah,” he whispered softly, closing his eyes as he buried his face in the pillow, imagining that Yo-han was by his side, within his hold and never straying too far away. Ga-on longed to be in his arms again, to hear him calling his name even just one more time.

And when he finally put it down and left the room, it felt as if a part of him had been left behind as well.

Ga-on stood at the door of the guest room. It was the place he’d first woken up in the mansion. The place where Yo-han had tended to his wounds, his touch electrifying on Ga-on’s skin, regardless if the younger had tried to pretend otherwise. Part of him wanted to go in again, just to relive the scene while he was still in the mansion. But the locked door stood between him and the room inside, reminding him that it was all in the past now.

And finally, he went to the study, the place that the most significant memories had been forged. The place where he’d learnt about Yo-han’s past, yet also the place where he’d walked away from him.

For a good half a minute, Ga-on found himself at the entrance, unable to bring himself to walk further in. It was only when he noticed Kkomi laying on the couch that he entered, taking a seat beside the cat. As he stared at Yo-han’s desk, an old memory surfaced in his head, one in which the two of them had been talking casually, like there was nothing going on in the world, like it was just the two of them and Elijah and nobody else.

It felt incredibly domestic whenever he entered the study to find Yo-han reading a book, the latter always appearing so focused as if he hadn’t noticed Ga-on walking in. Ga-on was pretty sure that Yo-han had noticed him each time and had only been pretending not to, but whatever the case, it made Ga-on feel as if he was watching his spouse unwinding at home after work. Which had been a peculiar thought back then and he’d questioned himself several times for it, but now it felt so natural that it surprised himself.

The reminiscence of Yo-han’s smile as he’d watched Ga-on playing with Kkomi on the couch was enough to warm Ga-on’s heart, despite leaving a hollowness after the initial solace had faded away at the remembrance that he’d never be able to see that smile again. Yo-han had merely been joking around with him about some dream that he’d had, but he’d looked ever so beautiful, so relaxed and carefree. Ga-on closed his eyes, letting out a deep, long exhale.

And when he eventually opened his eyes again, his mind had conjured an image of Yo-han standing a distance away. The man’s clothes were tattered and his skin was burnt, with traces of soot all over his body. Like a ghost, Ga-on thought with a sharp pang through his heart. Because of course Yo-han’s ghost would return to the house where all his memories were held.

“Yo-han,” he spoke the man’s name, even if he knew that it would do no good.

Ghost Yo-han smiled.

Ga-on’s heart ached.

“It’s almost ten,” the figment of his imagination said.

“I know,” Ga-on replied, not taking his eyes off the other for even a fraction of a second. He stood up, walking closer. “Why did you do it?” he asked in a trembling voice.

“Do what?”

Ga-on felt his breathing stagnate. “Kill yourself with them.”

With a small smile, Yo-han’s ghost wiped a tear from Ga-on’s cheeks. “I didn’t.” His touch felt so real that for a moment, Ga-on believed that Yo-han had really come back to him. “Your eyes are red,” the ghost said.

“I know,” the younger man replied again.

He reached towards the other’s face, wanting to brush some of the soot away, no matter if it was possible to do so. But before he could, he felt a gentle grip on his wrist and then fingers lacing seamlessly with his.

Ga-on froze.

Ghost Yo-han smiled again.

Except that he wasn’t a ghost.

“Yo-han?” he said cautiously, wanting to believe that this was real, yet afraid to get his hopes up and have them brutally crushed. He cupped Yo-han’s cheek in his other hand, then ran his hand down the other’s body --- all the way from his pectorals down to his torso and then back up again, feeling him in the flesh. And with every touch, his movements got faster and faster until Yo-han finally wrapped him in a hug.

“I told you to trust me,” he said, running his fingers through Ga-on’s hair, mumbling into his ear. “I promised you that I’d come back.”

And Ga-on hugged him back, holding the man as closely as he could, as tightly as he could. Because Yo-han was alive. His Yo-han was alive. And Ga-on was never, ever going to let him go again.

He pulled away just enough to look Yo-han in the eye, to remind himself once again that this was no dream. That this was real, real, real.

“I thought I lost you...” Ga-on clamped his hand over his mouth, holding back a sniffle.

Yo-han gently moved his hand aside and caressed his cheek, wiping his tears away once more. “I’m sorry for taking so long,” he apologised. “There was a bit of a delay on the roads, but I came here as quickly as I could.”

“Idiot,” Ga-on hissed, pushing Yo-han a little as tears brimmed in his eyes.

Then he tugged Yo-han closer and sealed the distance between them.

He started out cautious, as if he was worried that he’d be pushed away. But as soon as Ga-on felt Yo-han snake an arm around his waist, he dropped his hesitation and let his feelings take over him completely. They drove him to act on instinct without entertaining an ounce of thought, and Ga-on felt like an empty part of him was slowly being filled, broken pieces tenderly patched up by loving hands.

Desperation grew, like it was something they’d both been yearning for and had at last managed to attain, neither willing to let go now that they’d seized it. When Ga-on felt Yo-han’s tongue against his lips, he let him in, deepening the kiss and letting Yo-han have his way with him. And he may or may not have imagined this before, may or may not have pictured it in some of his dreams, but to have it for himself made it so different, so real, and his mind blanked out on everything else for the moment.

All he could feel was Yo-han’s lips on his and the man’s fingers threaded loosely through his hair, pulling him closer, closer, closer. And only when they were out of breath did they part, nevertheless remaining ever so close, so close that Ga-on could easily lean in and connect their lips once more.

“Yo-han,” he chided between ragged breaths, words as faint as a whisper, “don’t ever scare me like that again.”

Lips brushed at the corner of his mouth, a fleeting touch. “I won’t,” Yo-han assured him, looking at him like he’d hung the moon and the stars.

“Never?” Ga-on implored.

With a silent promise, Yo-han captured his lips in another kiss.

“Kang Yo-han?”

Elijah choked back a sob at the sight of her uncle, alive and well.

“Elijah,” the man said, crouching behind her, embracing her.

“You...” The girl looked like she was about to scold him, but then only ended up hugging him back as she started to cry. Yo-han sighed fondly, chuckling as he assured her that he was fine.

Ga-on couldn’t help but smile. The two had often bickered and argued about even the most trivial matters, but even so, even if they never showed it, the two were undoubtedly close. They’re family, after all, Ga-on thought as he leaned against the wall, watching them. And that was something that wasn’t going to change.

Maybe sometime ago he’d have been envious of them for having each other, maybe sometime ago he’d have wished that he had what they did. Now, however, he’d realised that he had no more reason to be jealous. After all, Yo-han and Elijah weren’t just each other’s family --- they’d become his family too.

It took him a good few seconds to snap out of his thoughts and find that they were looking at him, inviting him to join them. And so without a hint of hesitation, Ga-on walked over and embraced the two most important people that he still had with him.

After a minute or so, Yo-han let go of them, standing up. “It’s already past ten,” he announced. “Let’s go to Daegu, yeah?”

Kkomi hopped onto Elijah’s lap and Yo-han held the door open at the entrance, only letting it shut by itself when everyone was out of the house.

“Ga-on-ah, it’s time to leave.”

Ga-on looked away from the Kang’s mansion, seeing a melancholic smile on Yo-han’s lips.

He nodded, taking Yo-han’s hand in his. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

To think that this was probably the last time he’d be travelling through these streets made Ga-on feel a loss that he hadn’t thought would hit him until it had. This was the city where he’d grown up, where everything had happened to him --- both the good and the bad, the gain and the loss. The journey of just a little more than an hour sent a flurry of emotions swirling within him.

As if he’d sensed what Ga-on was feeling, Yo-han took Ga-on’s hand in his, squeezing it lightly. In the backseat, Elijah was fast asleep with Kkomi on her lap. It’d be a new life once they were out of here. Ga-on was both excited and anxious about it. Although, he thought, as long as he had Yo-han and Elijah with him, it’d turn out just fine.

He let himself stare out of the window, unflinching even when the Infected crowded their vehicle, even when Yo-han sped up the car to get rid of them. Ga-on only watched, and let himself absorb the remains of the city he’d grown up in into his memory.

They drove past his high school, the place where Soo-hyun had confessed to him multiple times. He’d rejected her over and over again and for some reason, she’d nevertheless persisted, but he’d always treasured her as a friend anyway. And as he remembered the final blessing she’d given him, tears began to clog his vision. Goodbye, Soo-hyun, he bid her farewell in his head as they got further and further away, and the school grew smaller and smaller till it was nothing but a disappearing point. Thank you for everything.

They drove past the narrow road that led to his apartment, where he’d lived in for nearly all his life but hadn’t returned to in what felt like far too long. He could see some shadowy figures roaming the streets and he wondered if his plants were still alive, or if they’d been ripped to shreds already. It pained him to think of that and he began to regret not bringing some of them along. But it was too late for that, so he resigned to promising himself that he’d adopt some new plants in memory of them once he was in Daegu.

They drove past the courthouse where he’d gone to work, the very place that he’d met Yo-han for the first time. Ga-on smiled as all the memories flooded back into his head, like a tsunami that spared him no time to digest all the moments that he treasured. He wondered how his mentor was doing, albeit he doubted that the man was alive if he was still in Seoul. There was much that he could thank him for, as well as so much that he was displeased with, but if there was one thing that he was eternally grateful for, it was assigning him to work with Yo-han.

As though he could read Ga-on’s mind, Yo-han gently stroked the side of his palm, reminding him that their story wasn’t over yet. It was only the end of a chapter, leading to the beginning of another and then many more.

He was going to miss a lot of this, Ga-on realised as they drove through street after street, passing by many familiar sights that he’d been to sometime in his life. Never would he have thought that there would come a day when he’d have to leave everything behind, but neither did he realise that in spite of all the pain that he’d gone through, this city still had a comforting grip on him, like a mother to a child.

“Yo-han,” he said quietly, careful not to wake Elijah up.

The man hummed softly, as if to let Ga-on know that he was listening.

“Will you,” the younger asked, “miss this city?”

Yo-han sighed. “How could I not?” he mused, tapping his finger lightly on the steering wheel. “You will too, won’t you?”

“Yeah,” Ga-on said in an exhale. “I will.”

“I guess that’s only normal,” Yo-han added. “After growing up here, it’s just not so easy to let go.”

As they began to enter the more remote parts of Seoul, closer to the station that was their destination, Ga-on began to think again.

Once upon a time, he recalled seeing his parents’ killer smirking at him, the criminal knowing that he’d be able to escape. And Ga-on recalled how spite had filled him and after he’d gotten home that day, he’d thought to himself that someday, he wanted to move elsewhere where he wouldn’t have to be haunted by the past.

How ironic that he was at that very position now, and yet it was far from easy for him to turn away, even if he didn’t have a choice anymore. Maybe this time, once the city was far behind him, he’d finally be able to start letting go of everything.

No matter how many bad things had happened, this city was still his home. And till the moment he was on the train, it would still be. Perhaps for even longer, as he doubted that he’d ever be able to leave this part of his past behind. Not that he really had to, though.

In retrospect, everything in his life had played out in the only way that would’ve brought him to this very point. Any different choice he’d made, any mistake he hadn’t made, any slight change in his past would’ve meant that he’d be in a different spot. Maybe one where he’d never met Yo-han, maybe one where he hadn’t met Soo-hyun, even.

And if Ga-on could go back in time, he doubted that he’d change a thing.

He would never be able to save everyone. After all, people had to lose the things closest to them, one way or another, sometime or another. But at the very least, he hadn’t lost everything. He still had Yo-han, still had Elijah, and still had himself.

Perhaps that was enough for him.

The view of Seoul’s streets was strikingly different from what it had been a mere week ago, before the world had turned into a completely different genre. The heart of the city faded into the rest of the buildings behind him, vanishing out of sight.

Ga-on kept his eyes on the road ahead.

The funeral hall was enveloped in silence.

With a dead look in his eyes, the teenage boy sat with his back against the wall, staring into nothingness. He felt hollow, as though someone had cut him open and dug out a part of him, and then closed him up without returning what they’d taken.

Countless emotions swarmed his head. Resentment, anger, grief, and most of all, a burning desire for revenge.

Why was it that all the innocent people had to suffer at the hands of those who committed misdeeds, those who showed not even a sign of guilt as they walked away from their victims unscathed? Why was it that the honest people always died first, that reality was the opposite of all those fantasies where karma wasn’t only a damn lie?

The world was unfair and Kim Ga-on hated it to his very core.

Why did they leave without him? Did they think he’d be fine on his own? Had they even thought about him when they decided that they’d be better off elsewhere?

Why? he cried, but only in his head. Why didn’t you take me with you? Why did you abandon me? Was I not good enough a reason to stay?

Questions consumed him, unanswered as they would be. Tears kept flowing down his face but he didn’t move, didn’t try to wipe them away. He let them fall, staining the ground with marks of his misfortune. He couldn’t even lift his eyes to look at the framed pictures of his parents placed in front of their coffins.

It wasn’t till he felt an arm around him, pulling him close, that he stopped spacing out and began to sob. “Soo-hyun-ah...” He leaned into his best friend’s embrace, letting her console him. “They’re gone...”

The girl only stroked the back of his head, hugging him as she began to cry as well. “I’m sorry, Ga-on-ah...I’m sorry...” She had nothing to apologise for, but someone as empathetic as her could understand the sense of loss that her friend was experiencing.

Ga-on couldn’t find the words to respond, so he only cried harder, letting all his emotions out without restrain.

That night, once he’d wept his eyes out, Ga-on sat with Soo-hyun on a bench near the Han river, staring out at the view. The sky had already darkened, the moon hiding in the clouds like a watchful guardian of the city. It was a peaceful setting, yet Ga-on’s mind was still in a state of turmoil.

“I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, voice small and indistinct.

Shifting closer to him, Soo-hyun reached out and pulled him closer so his head was on her shoulder. “You don’t have to know now,” she said, patting the side of his arm. “Take all the time that you need; I know that it’s not easy for you.”

The boy sniffled, wiping a tear away. “Why did they leave?” he asked, as if his friend would have the answer. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You didn’t,” she whispered, feeling hurt on his behalf. “It’s not your fault.”

“Then why did they leave?” Ga-on’s words came out harsher than they were supposed to. “They were all the family I had left...”

“Ga-on-ah,” the girl called his name softly, “they don’t have to be your only family.”

Biting his lip, the boy looked down at the grass beneath his feet. “But they are,” he spoke mellowly. “It’s not like I can decide that.”

Soo-hyun shook her head before she hugged him for a while. And when she let go, though keeping an arm around his shoulders, she said, “Family doesn’t have to be just the people related to you by blood. It’s also the people that you want in your life, who want you in theirs too.”

(Back then, Ga-on had merely nodded, accepting it on the outside, as much as he was sceptical within. It wasn’t till another ten years or more later that he found the feeling of family which had slipped away from him with his parents’ death.

But when he did, he looked back at her words, and he understood what she’d meant.)

“We’re running late,” Yo-han said urgently, parking the car by the roadside, as close to the platform as possible. “Ga-on, get the cat and let’s go.”

Nodding in acknowledgement, Ga-on nudged Elijah awake and took Kkomi off her lap.

“What time is it?” she asked.

“Five minutes till the train departs,” her uncle answered.

“I’ll take out the wheelchair from the back,” Ga-on said, only to see Yo-han shake his head.

“We don’t have the time for that,” the man objected, picking up Elijah in his arms and kicking the car door shut with his foot. “We need to go.”

Ga-on sighed sharply, acknowledging and beginning to walk.

The three of them snuck quietly onto the platform from the back. There weren’t many people in sight, at least not people who were alive. Ga-on could see more dead bodies than he had the last time he’d visited and the stench of rotting flesh drifted through the air, tainting it irreversibly. Of course, it wasn’t coast clear, for some shadowy figures could be seen walking about in staggered motions which made it hard to tell if they were infected or not.

Whatever it was, the trio would have to board the train without letting anyone else get on, lest they risk messing the whole plan up. It was a selfish decision, certainly. In fact, the Kim Ga-on of a month ago might’ve reprimanded the current him for so easily turning his back to potential survivors on the platform, knowing that this was the last chance out of the ruined city, or it would be for a long time.

But now, things were very different. He didn’t have the luxury to save others --- or even think about it, for that matter --- especially if those “others” were strangers that he’d never met in his life. Ga-on only had one goal left, and it was to get on board the train, along with Yo-han and Elijah. For the first time in the past few days, survival seemed like it was within his reach again and Ga-on couldn’t wait to take it in his grasp.

Ga-on wanted to live, with Yo-han and Elijah, even if it meant that the rest of humanity had to perish.

He felt someone prodding his shoulder and turned to look at Yo-han. “Do you see the train?” the man asked.

Squinting into the darkness, Ga-on shook his head.

Time was running out and he was beginning to feel a dreading sense of urgency, like this was the deciding moment between life and death. Truth to be told, it probably was. If they missed the train, they’d die here, just like what had happened in the nightmare he’d had two nights ago.

No, he couldn’t let that happen.

The man scanned the tracks with his eyes, taking note of every detail just to locate any clue as to which train they were supposed to board. “We need to go closer,” he said, a somewhat hesitant expression at the thought of venturing into what had become dangerous territory.

“Then let’s get closer,” Yo-han said, because maybe danger had stopped having any restraints on him long ago.

Ga-on took in the courage that radiated off his companion and began to move.

There were several more trains in sight when they were nearer to the tracks, many of which had been hidden behind others prior to the group’s shift in position. “Single-carriage,” Ga-on muttered, a reminder to himself.

“There are three single-carriage trains,” Yo-han observed, “but it’s hard to tell their colour.”

Clicking his tongue lightly, the younger cursed under his breath. “Then we have to check each one,” he concluded.

Yo-han headed towards the closest. “We only have three minutes left.”

And then, after they’d travelled a good distance from the platform undetected, the tracks became more uneven and forced the group to reduce their pace. Ga-on took wary steps, sucking in breaths like it’d make him any lighter. But when Kkomi tried to jump out of his arms, he panicked and his feet crunched onto pebbles.

It was a noise that’d normally go unheard, but in the pin drop silence, it was impossible to miss. Barely a second passed before a loud growl echoed within the station, followed by more and more like an uncoordinated orchestra resonating in the air.

“We need to run,” Ga-on said, subconsciously raising his voice in alarm. “They know we’re here!”

No longer caring about how much noise that they made, the trio boarded the first train, getting off once they found that it was empty. “Two minutes,” Yo-han uttered, picking up his pace towards the next train.

As he stepped out of the first train, Ga-on’s hope was beginning to diminish, like a candle that’d burned bright at its peak but was now running out of light to sustain its glow. “We can’t check both in time,” he realised, seeing that the remaining two were a good distance apart and that the Infected were catching up behind them. He began to freak out. “Yo-han, what do we---”

“CHIEF! KIM GA-ON!”

Ga-on’s head whipped in the direction of a loud voice and he felt relief washing over him like a tide. On the train in the direction that they’d almost forsaken was a woman who was waving her arm, as if she was trying to call the three over.

“It’s Jin-joo,” Ga-on said, his voice seeming a bit heartened. “Yo-han, she’s waving---”

The man was grabbing his wrist and running before he could finish his sentence. Heart palpitating in his chest, Ga-on ran, as fast as he could, as fast as his legs would allow for him to. And when he heard the sound of an engine starting, he leapt and caught the railing, pulling himself up and then helping the rest on board.

Only when they were all safely on the train did Ga-on finally slump against the carriage’s exterior walls, heaving a deep sigh of relief, letting out all the fear he’d been penting up for longer than he could remember. Kkomi jumped out of his arms and strode into the carriage.

“Thank goodness you made it in time,” Jin-joo said to the group, a reassured smile on her face. “When you weren’t at the platform ten minutes ago, I was worried that you wouldn’t make it...” Beside her stood a teenage boy, presumably her younger brother. Ga-on was glad that the siblings were safe.

“It was close,” Ga-on replied with a sharp sigh, gathering enough energy to crack a smile. “Way too close.”

“At least we’re all here now,” the woman lamented, walking into the carriage, the rest following after her. “The driver was confused when Heo Joong-se didn’t arrive, but I managed to convince him to take us anyway.” She took one last glance outside, watching the crowd running towards the train, but knowing that they wouldn’t make it in time.

Ga-on did the same. “I guess no one in their right mind would want to stay here.”

Jin-joo nodded. “Have you got the thumb drive?”

“Yeah, we’ll tell you more about it once we’re in Daegu.” Taking it out of his pocket, Ga-on showed it to her.

Once Yo-han entered the carriage, he placed Elijah near a wall to allow the girl to rest. Ga-on leaned against one of the sides too, slowly lowering himself to sit down.

“I’ll miss this place,” Jin-joo said, folding her arms as she stood opposite Ga-on. “Even if I’ve only been here for a year or so, I had a good time.”

“I get what you mean,” the man said. He let the memories flow freely in his head.

“Mhm.” Jin-joo tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, then tilted her head back, eyes on the top of the carriage. “But at least, it’s over now.”

“Yeah,” Ga-on agreed, speaking more to himself than to anyone else, “at least it’s over.”

The train departed punctually at the stroke of midnight.

As he felt the floor of the carriage rumbling beneath his feet, Ga-on looked at Elijah, who was staring into empty space, and then at Yo-han, who was smiling faintly at him.

He didn’t look back.