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“Kim Min Joon!”
No response. Typical.
Jang Ha Ri barged into the room belonging to the man she was completely prepared to strangle into oblivion the moment she laid eyes upon him. “Kim Min Joon!” She called again, because she knew he was in here and she was not letting him hide from this one. Not again.
She pushed past the camouflaged door by the cupboards on instinct, shouting the asshole’s name. She was going to kill him. She was going to absolutely eviscerate him.
“Kim Min-”
A child stood at the end of the hallway.
“-Joon?” She faltered, relentless pace slowing.
The child was holding a baseball bat high over his head. “Who are you?”
She frowned. How did a kid get in here?
“Who are you?”
The boy tilted his head up, a pompous cocky manner Ha Ri had only ever seen from one person.
“I’m Jan Gebaeur,” The boy’s lip curled defensively. “Kim Min Joon. The name you’re calling.”
Ha Ri stared at the boy. It couldn’t be.
The boy forged forth, his little face coming into the light. He had the same slitted eyes, the same sharp jaw, the same tense way of standing that made him look more vulnerable than as predatory as intended.
But it couldn’t be.
“Answer me,” The boy spoke, voice a silky calm, and yet his hands curled tighter on the bat. “Who are you and why are you here?”
…It absolutely was.
Shit.
Ha Ri closed her eyes and lifted her head skywards.
-
Kang Woo stared.
“How did this happen?” Sun Jung bent down, hands clasping knees, examining the child with gleefully wide eyes.
The boy scoffed. “How did your hair happen?”
Sun Jung’s face reddened. Nu Ri snorted somewhere in the back.
Yeah, that was him, alright. A smaller, angrier version of Kim Min Joon, but Min Joon nonetheless.
“I don’t know,” Ha Ri ruffled her hair in frustration, falling into a nearby couch. “I just went up and found him like this.”
“Like what, exactly?” Min Joon narrowed his little eyes, and it looked almost cute, if they weren’t currently in an operation that vitally required Min Joon’s presence to continue.
An operation that was very much a bet on Min Joon’s life, because the bastard had a tendency on taking on suicidal self-sacrificial missions. Because he was an idiot.
And now the idiot was a child. A pre-pubescent, grumpy child just inches above the height of Kang Woo’s waist.
That was their Dr. Kim.
“He can’t stay here alone,” Kang Woo decided, watching Nu Ri try to hand mini Min Joon a juice box. “It’s too dangerous.”
“I agree, Mr. Choi,” Ha Ri nodded along. “But where can we put him?”
“Well, I can’t say I’m not enjoying this,” Nu Ri said, all smiles and sunshine as he shoved multiple variations of convenience store gimbap the kid’s way. “I’ve never had a younger brother on this team before. How old are you anyway?”
“Thirteen,” Min Joon scowled. “And I don’t have any brothers.”
Nu Ri’s grin did not flicker. “You do now.”
Min Joon firmly set the food down on a nearby counter.
Sun Jung straightened his back, muttering. “Still the little shit, huh.”
Suddenly Kang Woo was reminded of seaweed soup, and stories of Mija Gebaeur, and the older version of this lost boy seeking approval for a well-made meal. He thought of bars, and ice-cream, and the boy who would grow to be kicked out of his own home and made to beg on the streets.
He thought of Min Joon, crying for a brother he was too late to acknowledge.
He thought of Min Joon, calling him hyung.
“He’s staying with me,” He decided, and no one refuted. Not even sullen miniature Min Joon.
-
“Did my parents send me here?” Min Joon asked, acutely aware of the way his voice shook, but he had to ask. He had to know.
The very tall man turned to look at him with his weird stoic face.
“Um,” The man had a deep voice. “Yes. Your parents sent you here.”
Min Joon’s jaw tightened. It wasn’t like he didn’t expect this, he’d seen it coming for a while now. He just didn’t think they’d ship him off without even a single word to him about it. He thought they liked him more than this.
And now he was all alone, in yet another unknown place, with a language he hadn’t spoken in years, with nobody but himself to call for help.
“May I know who you are, please?” He asked politely, because this man seemed like he had all the authority and Min Joon had learned wisely not to press people with all the authority.
“Ah, sorry,” The man turned to him again, something strangely dissecting in his eyes, and Min Joon desperately wished he would just keep his eyes on the road. “I should have introduced myself earlier. I’m Choi Kang Woo.”
“I’m Kim Min Joon,” Min Joon pursed his lips. “But I feel like you already know that.”
Mr. Choi chuckled, shifting his attention back to the road. He popped a mint into his mouth and offered another to the side. “Want some?”
Was it rude to refuse one’s elders in Korea? Min Joon didn’t remember. He hadn’t been here since he was five. Since his brother Beom Jun told him to let go.
He took the mint stiffly. “Thank you, sir.”
“Don’t mention it.”
The rest of the car ride went on quietly, with nothing but Min Joon’s forcibly controlled breathing to fill the silence.
-
“You can sleep in this room,” Kang Woo gestured easily to the master bedroom, where Min Joon had stayed during their stint with Lee Yeong Ho. Thank the lords Min Joon hadn’t been this pint-sized during that ordeal. That would have been shit to deal with.
Not that now was any better.
Min Joon looked like he expected Kang Woo to be spitting nails and breathing fire out of his nostrils at any given moment.
“Thank you, sir,” was all Kang Woo got in reply and he couldn’t believe he was actually wishing for some lip from the boy. Something, anything to prove that this was really their Min Joon.
There was still the ordeal of figuring out what in the world had caused this change to happen. Min Joon had just completed a mission, one where he had to retrieve information from inside a rich man’s pharmaceutical lab.
“Are you hungry?” It was a simple enough question.
Min Joon looked like a deer caught in headlights. “No, sir.” His stomach rumbled in contradiction.
Kang Woo raised an eyebrow. Min Joon flushed a deep shade of red.
“Take a seat,” He pulled out a chair at the dining area. “I’ll make you something.”
“You don’t-” Min Joon stuttered. “I can make my own food, sir.”
Kang Woo grimaced. Did he really look so inept that a child could tell cooking was the man’s one true weakness? Granted, the child in question was Kim Min Joon, but still, it smarted.
“Alright, then,” Kang Woo nodded, settling into the chair himself. “Make us something, yeah?”
At this, the boy visibly calmed and Kang Woo silently counted it as victory. The boy probably just wanted some control over this entire situation.
“What would you like, sir?”
“Anything,” Kang Woo shrugged, already opening his laptop for work. “I’m not picky.”
The boy nodded and set to work. It was comforting, the clinking sounds of knife and plates as Kang Woo worked on his cases. It wasn’t unfamiliar, not since he’d been released from prison. Min Joon had made a habit of crashing at Kang Woo’s place on a whim, which meant that his cup, his toothbrush, his chopsticks were always kept by Kang Woo’s on the side.
Kang Woo couldn’t say he didn’t appreciate the company.
-
When dinner was ready, Min Joon was happy to present it to Mr. Choi. The man had been so deeply engrossed in his work he didn’t think he would look up at all when he placed the bowl of seaweed soup next to him.
The corners of Mr. Choi’s lips quirked upwards. “Seaweed soup?”
Min Joon tensed. “Do you not like it, sir?”
“No, no,” Mr. Choi regarded Min Joon warmly. “I love it.”
Min Joon’s shoulders deflated. Thank god. He didn’t think he could survive being kicked out for the second time in a day.
Mr. Choi took an exaggeratedly hearty sip, and then smacked his lips. “It’s good.”
Min Joon felt oddly like he was being patronized. He bit back a sneer.
“Why aren’t you sitting?” Mr. Choi pointed his chin at the seat opposite him.
Min Joon shifted on his feet, unsure, but in the end he decided that if he was to be living here, he might as well get familiar with the man’s house rules.
“When am I allowed to eat, sir?”
Mr. Choi paused mid-bite.
“I don’t mean to offend,” Min Joon hurried. “Only, I would like to understand the rules of your house, sir.”
Mr. Choi swallowed his food, and then very calmly (a dangerous sort of calm) asked Min Joon to sit.
This time, Min Joon sat. He felt oddly like he had pissed the man off and he wasn’t even sure what he had done. He wrung his hands together under the table.
“When are you usually allowed to eat?” Mr. Choi asked. “At the Gebaeurs.”
Finally, something Min Joon could answer. “I’m allowed dinners on weekdays, and on weekends I’m allowed breakfast.” That last one was a lie. He wasn’t allowed anything on weekends, but Mr. Choi didn’t need to know that. “If I work well, they allow me pocket money to buy something outside.”
Mr. Choi’s grip on his spoon went frighteningly taut. “Work?”
Min Joon nodded emphatically. “Yes, I can work. I can- I can clean, and cook, and make things neat.” These weren’t terribly remarkable things, but at this point, Min Joon knew he needed anything, anything that could convince Mr. Choi let him stay. At least for a day or two. “I can help you sort files. I can fix cars too. And- and I don’t need so much for dinners, really, just a bowl of rice is good enough.”
Mr. Choi’s face spasmed.
“Or, half a bowl,” Min Joon squeaked. “Half a bowl is fine too.”
“No,” Min Joon flinched at Mr. Choi’s terse voice. “You can have as many bowls as you like, Min Joon-ah.” He pushed a full bowl of food Min Joon’s way, stacking it with the egg rolls Min Joon had fried for him. “You can eat.”
For how long, Min Joon wanted to ask but didn’t dare to. Not with Mr. Choi looking positively thunderous, even as he nudged another bowl of soup his way.
In the end, Min Joon simply lowered his head, and thanked him for the food.
-
It was eventually revealed that Min Joon had gotten himself sprayed by some age regression inducing drug that their client’s perpetrator had been working with. It brought the person who came in contact with the drug back to a certain period of their lives when they were young, limiting their physical and emotional maturity to only that age that they had been regressed to. Their memories, too, were only up till whatever age they ended up at. The only way to turn him back to normal would be to steal the reversing antidote.
Either that, or they left Min Joon the way he was till he turned back to normal. The age regression drug, according to Nu Ri, could only last as long as a month.
Kang Woo didn’t think he could deal living with mini Min Joon for a month.
“Why? Is he raising a ruckus in your home, Mr. Choi?” Sun Jung teased, peeling a banana on the side. “Wouldn’t put it past the little punk to be nose deep in your files by now. Just because he’s bored.”
One would think that to be the reason. It turned out to be the exact opposite.
“You don’t ever bring him to work,” Nu Ri pouted. “I wanted to talk with him some more, you know.”
Perhaps he should. Maybe Min Joon was just afraid being in Kang Woo’s empty home all the time.
That was the only word Kang Woo could think to describe Min Joon’s behaviour. Afraid.
He acted like he was constantly walking on eggshells, wary of Kang Woo's every move. The first night he spent in the master bedroom, Kang Woo had found him sleeping on the floor. When asked, the boy had looked at him quizzically and said, “I didn’t know the bed was allowed, sir.”
Who didn’t allow their child to sleep on a bed?
“What are you thinking of, Mr. Choi?” Ha Ri asked, sharp as ever. “We’ve agreed not to keep things from each other, have we not?”
Mr. Choi gave a short sigh, scrubbing the side of his face. “It’s nothing, it’s just-” Mr Choi paused, searching for the right words. “Min Joon isn’t acting the way I expected him to.”
Nu Ri frowned, mulish. “What do you mean?”
Mr. Choi stood up, looking out the window, if only for something else to look at other than his team’s confused faces. “I feel he hasn’t been treated right,” He said haltingly. “As a child.”
Sung Jung furrowed his brows, but Ha Ri looked unsurprised. She always picked things up faster than the others.
“He is incredibly defensive, isn’t he?”
“It’s not just that,” Kang Woo shook his head. “It’s…”
“Maybe we should go visit him!” Nu Ri piped up. “It is frightening to be thrown into someone’s house without knowing anything, even without the whole memory regression situation.”
Sometimes Kang Woo forgot that Nu Ri himself had been a neglected child. He would probably understand Min Joon the most, out of all of them.
“That’s a great idea, Nu Ri,” Kang Woo turned around, smiling. “Let’s buy dinner and have it my place, alright?”
The answering grins and chorus of acquiescence were music to Kang Woo’s ears. He loved his team so much.
-
Based on the three days Min Joon had lived with him, Mr. Choi was a ridiculously lenient man.
He allowed him to eat whenever he was hungry, and didn’t even stop him when Min Joon sneaked food from the pantry at half past midnight. He allowed him to sleep on his large double bed, and seemed disturbed when Min Joon asked to sleep on the couch instead. He constantly looked for Min Joon’s opinions over the most mundane of matters, like what colour he liked his cup to be or whether he wanted milk or juice for breakfast, and he actually listened when Min Joon tentatively said that he liked black and wanted juice. He never raised his voice once when talking with Min Joon.
Mr. Choi was an absurdly patient man.
Which was why, when Mr. Choi arrived with three other individuals in tow, Min Joon was wholly, undoubtedly and irrevocably terrified to his very bones.
He had done nothing to convince kind Mr. Choi to keep him. He had nothing to offer.
Min Joon did not cry. He was way too old for that.
He took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and steeled his nerves.
“Min Joon-ah,” Mr. Choi hovered in the doorway. “Do you remember who these people are?”
Min Joon took a look at the visitors. They were the same group that had found him that day at Mr. Choi’s office.
“Yes, sir,” He smiled amiably, hands clasped behind his back. “I’ve seen them before. Would they be wanting anything?”
“There’s no need for that, punk,” The man in nursing garbs grinned, holding up the packets of takeout. “Got us some jokbal, all right and ready here for dinner.”
“That’s wonderful,” He said. “I’ll just set the table.” And then went to do just that.
“While you’re doing that,” The kid who had offered him gimbap the other day came sidling up beside him. Min Joon tried hard not to frown. “We didn’t get to introduce ourselves that day. I’m Ohn Nu Ri.”
“Park Sun Jung,” said the nurse, setting the food down and then dropping casually into one of the available seats. Min Joon distinctly remembered spiking his sharp toungue at the man. He had to be careful with that one.
“Jang Ha Ri,” The quiet lady raised her hand, as Min Joon finished setting out the utensils for everyone.
Mr. Choi Kang Woo sat at the head of the table, smiling lightly.
A weird silence went on for several beats where no one was touched anything. Min Joon shifted in his seat, befuddled. Why weren’t they eating what they bought?
“Um, Min Joon,” Nu Ri was the one who broke the silence. “Why didn’t you get yourself any utensils?”
Min Joon felt his cheeks heat. Damn his pale skin and vampire-esque looks.
“I wasn’t sure if-” He cut himself off before he could finish that sentence. The faces around him reflected varying degrees of astonishment and concern. anyone with working deduction skills should probably work out by now what it was that they expected him to do. “Never mind.”
He stood quickly, rifling through the cabinets and fishing out a pair of chopsticks. He forced a smile. “Sorry about that.”
Halfway through the meal, he snuck a look at Mr. Choi, whose face was adorned with a perceptibly strained expression.
Min Joon’s heart fell. He failed. He embarrassed Mr. Choi in front of his friends. He was going to get kicked out by the end of this night.
-
The night dissolved into one of light chatter and occasional laughter. Everyone was making an effort to include Min Joon in the conversation, actively asking and offering him things. Sun Jung had even managed to rope the kid into playing chess with him.
It was nice to see Min Joon show more emotion other than the collected calm he always held himself with. The triumphant smirk that alighted his features when he won against Sun Jung three times in a row was victory enough in Mr. Choi’s books.
“His intellect sure is something, huh,” Ha-Ri remarked, cracking open her third bottle of soju.
Kang Woo always made a note to stop her before the fourth bottle.
“He’s always been a smart kid,” Kang Woo chuckled. “Sometimes too smart for his own good.”
“Hm,” Ha Ri took another swig. “Have you told him yet?”
Kang Woo turned to her, raising an eyebrow.
“About the situation,” She waved a hand, as if that encapsulated everything that had happened to get them to this point. “He deserves to know.”
Kang Woo paused. How was he supposed to tell a kid that they were not supposed to be a kid? With how skittish Min Joon was, he was guaranteed to close off even more if Kang Woo brought it up.
“He’s still a part of Mad Dog, kid or not,” Ha Ri bumped her shoulder against Kang Woo’s. “And he’s smart enough to understand.”
Both of them studied the boy currently undertaking his first match with On Nu Ri, someone who had literal years of strategic experience ahead of him. They were evenly matched.
Kang Woo sighed. “I’ll tell him.”
Ha Ri nodded, downing the rest of her soju. “Good.” And then she reached for another bottle and received Kang Woo’s warning tap on her wrist.
She grinned cheekily and set it down.
Kang Woo rolled his eyes. Children, the lot of them.
-
When Mr. Choi’s guests filtered out some time at ten, Min Joon found himself standing by the doorway, tensely waiting for Mr. Choi to say the word for him to pack his bags and leave with one of them.
He didn’t.
Mr. Choi ushered the last of them out, with a stern warning to Mr. Park to not let Miss Jang drive in her drunk state. Finally, the door clicked shut.
Min Joon let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
Mr. Choi placed a gentle hand on his shoulder, steering him to the living room. “What did you think? Did you like them?”
The lump in Min Joon’s throat resurfaced.
“Yes, sir.” He looked down, blinking hard.
“What’s wrong?” Genuine consternation coloured Mr. Choi’s tone.
Min Joon chewed on his bottom lip, not looking up. “Nothing, sir. It’s just…” He didn’t know how to say I want you to keep me or I wish you could want me without sounding whiny and desperate.
“Just?”
“Was I good, sir?” Min Joon asked instead.
“Yes, of course,” There was no hesitation in Mr. Choi’s answer. He was too kind. “You’re always good. Why do you ask?”
“I’m…” Min Joon inhaled deeply, and decided - Fuck not sounding desperate. He was so desperate. He’d get down on his knees and beg Mr. Choi take him, if he thought that would help. “I don’t want you to send me away.”
“What?”
Mr. Choi rushed down to meet his eye-level. Min Joon flinched back violently, even though that was a stupid thing to do. Mr. Choi had never hit him. He’d never even shouted at him. He was just-
Stupid, stupid, stupid, can’t do anything right, what did we adopt you for?
“I’m sorry, I just thought- you’re very kind, Mr. Choi, and I like staying here very much, and I’m not sure if- I’m not sure if I’d fit with the other families because I’m- I’m not always so good, but you’re patient and- and you don’t,” Min Joon was vaguely aware that he was blabbering nonsense, and of the teary sheen forming at the front of his eyes. “You don’t get mad when I’m mouthy, or when I’m talking uselessly like I am right now.”
Min Joon tried going to his knees but Mr. Choi’s strong grip on his shoulder prevented him from doing so.
“Please,” He heard himself plead, knees locked in a half-bent position. He didn’t dare look up. “I want you to keep me. Please.”
There was no immediate answer. Min Joon stifled a sob, rubbing his eyes with the back of his sleeves. What was he thinking? Who would want a brat like him? Who would-
“Min Joon,” Mr. Choi called, and his voice sounded shaky. “Please look at me.”
Min Joon looked up, and found Mr. Choi’s eyes almost as teary as his. Had he done that?
Min Joon grimaced. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“No, shh,” Mr. Choi stroked his hair carefully, as if handling a giant glass doll. “Shh, it’s okay, Min Joon. I’m sorry that I made you feel unwanted.”
“It’s not your fault, sir. I-”
“Shh,” Mr. Choi shushed, not unkindly. “I haven’t explained this situation to you fully. I’m sorry.” He ushered Min Joon off from half-kneeling over his best rug to his pristine white couch. “I’ll tell you everything you need to know now, alright?”
Min Joon sniffled. “Okay.”
“But, Min Joon-ah,” Mr. Choi gently guided Min Joon’s chin to look at him. “I need you to know that no matter what you say or do,” His hand moved to hold Min Joon’s shoulder’s reassuringly. “There is nothing in this world that would stop me from wanting you. As long as you want to stay here, for long as I’m alive, I welcome you to my home.”
Min Joon stared at him. That couldn’t be true.
“Do you understand, Min Joon-ah,” Mr. Choi’s shook him slightly. “You’re safe here. I want you here. You won’t ever be kicked out by me.”
Min Joon felt his bottom lip wobble precariously. “Really?”
“Yes,” A small, tired smile alighted Mr. Choi’s face. “Really.”
Min Joon considered Mr. Choi for what felt like the longest eternity, but was only really one second. He was telling the truth. All of Min Joon’s tensions - his raised shoulders, his aching heart, his suppressed sobs - released, all at once.
Tears streamed freely from his eyes, and he burrowed against Mr. Choi, not caring if he stained him with his tears, or his snot. He clung to Mr. Choi’s shirt, not caring if he wrinkled it, because Mr. Choi was keeping him. Mr. Choi wanted him to stay.
“Thank you,” He choked out, muffled against Mr. Choi’s chest. “Thank you, thank you, thank you-”
“Shh, shh,” Mr. Choi rubbed soothing circles over his back, pressing his lips to the crown of his small head. “It’s okay. It’s alright.” He pulled him closer. “You’re okay.”
He was. Whatever happened next, Min Joon would be okay. He had a roof over his head and a full belly. Mr. Choi wanted him. He was going to be okay.
Even if he was ten years too young. He was okay.
-
Sun Jung came to work the next week with the prescribed antidote.
“Ms Oh managed to retrieve this from one of her colleagues,” He set it down firmly on Kang Woo’s table. “You know what to do with it.”
Kang Woo let out a relieved sigh. Much as he loved miniature Min Joon, he missed older Min Joon too.
“Thanks, Sun Jung.”
Sun Jung gave him a cheery salute. “No problem, boss.”
-
Min Joon was not okay. He was absolutely not okay.
“You were so adorable, hyung,” Nu Ri grinned, the little imp. “You loved the cotton candy at the theme park sooooo much!”
“And you tried to insult my hair with your squeaky voice!” Sun Jung added. “Seems like you were a little shit since birth, huh.”
“Shut up, both of you,” Min Joon groaned into his hands.
He could feel Ha Ri smirking at him on the sidelines.
Kang Woo, as usual was sitting at his desk, sipping coffee and enjoying Min Joon’s perpetual demise at the hands of his Mad Dogs.
“You tried to get me with a baseball bat,” Ha Ri remarked.
“Yes, yes, we get it,” Min Joon flopped his head back against their worn black couch. He should probably buy them a new one, as their landlord, and probably subtle penance for all the trouble he had caused. “I was a stupid little child with shit for brains. We get it.”
“Yah, Kim Min Joon,” Kang Woo called, and Min Joon could sense the jaunt coming. “You were a good kid.
Min Joon groaned and covered his eyes with one arm.
“The best kid,” Ha-Ri nodded solemnly.
“Cheetah-ssi just called me a little shit.”
“You can be both,” Sun Jung appended, and Min Joon scowled at the ceiling.
“You are both,” Nu Ri agreed gleefully.
“Come, everyone,” Ha Ri raised her glass. “Let’s give a toast to a job well done.” Min Joon waited for the punchline. “And... the best little shit Seoul has to offer.”
They drank to it. Even Kang Woo.
Min Joon shook his head. Children, the lot of them.
If later that night, he paid Kang Woo a visit and made him seaweed soup for absolutely no reason, no one had to know. No one had to know the soft look of affection Kang Woo regarded him with, and the last words that had been uttered to him before the change.
You’ll always have a home here, Min Joon. No matter where, when or who you are. You always have a home here.
-
Jang Ha Ri noticed how the frequency which Min Joon visited Kang Woo skyrocketed after the de-aging fiasco. She noticed how Min Joon leaned a little more on Kang Woo’s shoulder when he got hurt. She noticed that whenever Kang Woo commended him, Min Joon brightened beyond the shining sun in its blue, blue sky. She noticed Kang Woo being more free and sparse with his compliments for Min Joon.
She noticed, and she smiled to herself thinking about it, downing her third bottle of soju.
Kang Woo didn't move to hold her wrist at the beginning of the fourth bottle, so she doesn't stop. Tonight has cause for celebration, after all.
Her boys are safe. Her boys are at home, together.