Chapter Text
“let him go.” you’re the first to get there, light on your toes as you land in the rubble of what was once a cute cafe you were meaning to visit during your downtime. that only angers you more, and somehow that helps the nerves crawling along your skin.
your eyes are pinned on the him, the blue flames that burn at the tip of his fingers, that seem to burn in his dark eyes, his long hair pulled back in a ponytail. his fingers are wrapped around a boy’s throat and, thankfully, the victim hasn’t been set on fire. yet.
the moment you flew over the center square after receiving the alert, you knew this was different from the usual villain fights you’ve built your entire career on. heroes and villains were something of a capitalist ploy - you’ve spent plenty of dinners choreographing fights with your supposed rivals. it was supposed to be something of a morale boost for the general public, especially after people with powers began to emerge in extreme numbers and fear ran rampant. hongjoong told you it was to quell those who wished to cause serious harm, scare them with theatrical displays of the Good Guys beating the Bad Guys. affirmations really that would stop any real bad guys from attempting to destroy the world as they knew it. yunho always said hongjoong was a bit of an idealist.
an underground surge of real villains began to emerge and the delicate balance the hero-villain alliance managed to salvage for the past decade started to crumble. you figured it was bound to happen sooner or later - the hero-villain alliance was built on the backs of deception and money - it was never meant to last. yunho also tended to call you a pessimist.
still, the moment you flew over the center square, you knew this wasn’t one of the many choreographed villain fights you’ve spent years orchestrating. no, this is real. the villains you’ve spent so much time sharing drinks with as you came up with the logistics of what abandoned buildings they should kick you into, and where you should punch them after their Big Villain Speech, the villains who were not really villains because they were technically your coworkers and even your friends, the ones who were paid by the alliance (the government really) to dress in tight outfits and lose dramatically, some of them have joined the underground surge. some of them decided this would be real. as you flew over the city to center square, you knew you were way in over your head. you are not and never were equipped for this.
your eyes lock with his, with jung wooyoung’s eyes, and your fingers tremble a bit - you remember when you all abandoned your work for drinks and uncoordinated games, you remember walking home with him, with seonghwa, jongho, and the betrayal creeps up under your skin, buries itself there, makes you wonder if you could have stopped this somehow, one of those nights, during one of those facetime calls, somehow - and wooyoung holds eye contact, fingers still curled around the boy’s neck.
“him?” he lifts the boy by his collar, legs dangling as he gasps for air, clawing at wooyoung’s hands. wooyoung’s grin stretches across his lips, a sweet contradiction to his actions. slowly, you nod, stepping forward. gravel crunches under your feet. wooyoung tilts his head, and you think he’ll say something snarky. he always does.
but instead, he grins, says, “okay, sure.”
and then he sets the boy’s clothes on fire, tossing him aside, the screams filling the unusually silent city, cowering civilian screams ringing in your ears. you barely register someone running at the boy, attempting to set the fire out.
but, wooyoung pays him no mind, laughing. it’s obnoxiously loud, as it always is, but it’s grating to your ears, in a way that it never was. your fingers curl into fists at your side, as wooyoung takes lazy steps towards you, your voice shaking - you’re not sure whether it’s because you’re angry or scared or horrified or everything all at once - and you murmur, “what the fuck, woo.”
he ignores you, tone derisive, uncharacteristically mocking, “where’s the rest of the gang? did they think you could handle me on your own?”
he raises an insolent brow.
something in your snaps then and you fly forward, but he seems prepared for your attack, blasting blue fire right into your face. you’re barely able to dodge the wall of fire, zipping upwards. he cranes his neck, eyes on you, constantly on you. “they’re stopping the others.” you shout as you hurl a stone slab in his direction.
you don’t want to think about how wooyoung wasn’t the only one who betrayed the alliance. yeosang, jongho, seonghwa, they’re not far from here, strategically placed just far enough that you’d be spread thin. wooyoung knows that. his bright grin says it all.
he dodges it with ease, pauses, as if he is waiting for you. he says, “they won’t be able to stop us, you know.”
“shut up.” you hurl another large piece of rubble in his direction. he tsks as he flips out of the way.
“have you always had such shitty aim?”
he laughs when you surge forward, laughs even when you tackle him into the side of the building, so hard he’s buried three inches into the cement. he just cackles, spits fire in your face, making you flinch, pain surging where the flames lick at your skin. you’re quick though, and you’re already moving, pinning him back into the side of the building, rubble sprinkling over you two - you’re not sure how many hits this building can take before it crumbles. you hiss, “this isn’t you, woo. you’re not…evil.”
he tilts his head, insolent despite the advantage you have over him. “says who?”
“you didn’t kill that boy back there.” your voice is low.
for a moment, his eyes widen, as if he’s surprised you caught his slip up, the way he only lit his clothes on fire and then immediately took his fire back. but then, he wrinkles his nose, “if I kill him, will that change your mind?”
“this is fucking serious.” you yank at his collar, “you can stop this now, before there’s no turning back.”
he blinks, tilts his head to the side, eyes roaming over your face for a moment before he says, “who said I wanted to turn back?”
your grip slackens around him, for just a moment, you can’t help it. you think of the weekends you spent exploring new cafes with him. “wooyoung, please. think about it. for one second just think about it. if not for me then what about hong -“
“what?” the heat in hands is blistering as he laughs, the sound loud and sharp, piercing through your heart. but there’s something about the set of his jaw that tells you that you’ve set something off in him. you flinch at the way his hands singe through your uniform. he seems to rise from the cement building, easily pushing you back, despite your inhuman strength, “you think I care about them? about you?”
he laughs as flames burst from his hands.