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Chapter Text

The bell rang to announce the end of classes, and a collective sigh of relief swept across the senior floor of Eunjang High. Sure, they were supposed to be preparing for colleges and universities (believe it or not, Gray wasn't the only one who actually thought about that), but 7 periods could kill anyone. Especially on Friday!

The final school year had scattered the gang into different classes, but their tradition of having a pool night on Fridays remained unchanged. It was all the more surprising to hear Gray said,

"I can not go today. I have an appointment."

That was unexpected. Gray almost never missed their pool night (at least not once in the entire sophomore year of high school).

"Someone we know? It must be important if you're dumping us. You don't have any problems, right?" Ben didn't beat around the bush. Not that he or the others had any reason to worry (the Union had been disbanded long ago, and even the slightest hint of a revival had been stopped during the same sophomore year (and most attempts had been stopped by Donald, as surprising as it could sound), and no one could even imagine any other issues in Gray's life).

"No problems. Just a meeting." Gray said confidently but he avoided to look at others. And that could be suspicious but everyone knew that Gray wasn't really a fan of secrets of any kind which meant that he wouldn't keep it secret if he really was in trouble (with someone or something, it didn't matter) because not talking about problems could lead to bad consequences (like a coma, yeah…), so it was their unspoken rule - to not hide anything, if it could be dangerous. And to avoid unexpected situations, Gray preferred to share his plans and location. So, if he said there was nothing to worry about…

...

The situation repeated itself the next week. And the week after. Everyone believed that Gray wasn't in trouble (he was, after all, the White Mamba of Eunjang and friends with Donald Na; one had to be crazy to get involved with him), but his mystery behavoir seemed strange. And unnerving a little.

In the fourth week (Gray hadn't missed pool on Friday, but had refused to go to the arcade on Sunday) Ben and Alex were walking home after a few hours of Tekken, and Ben couldn't take it anymore.

"Don't you think we should keep an eye on Gray?"

"I don't think that's a good idea…" Gogo muttered. He looked nervous and embarraced, which Ben caught on to right away.

"What do you mean? Do you know something?"

"I don't know anything." Alex looked away, trying to avoid eye contact. "Okay, I might know something, but it's none of my business. I just don't think we have anything to worry about."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes!" Alex looked even more embarressed. "We shouldn't interfere." He hesitated for a few seconds. "I think he's has a date. I overheard him talking on the phone, and he mentioned a name. A girl's name."

"A girl's name?" Ben wasn't convinced. "And it wasn't 'Lily'? You know, the girl he goes to cram school with?"

"It definitely wasn't 'Lily'."

"But it could still be someone he studies with? Kind of a study date?"

"Gray wouldn't hide something like that…"

Ben had to agree. They all knew Lily. Gray studied with her a lot and there was nothing to suggest a romantic relationship between these two. Although it was unclear for Ben where Gray could have met someone else (met someone and didn't say!), anyway Ben was happy for his friend. Gray deserved to be happy.

...

Meanwhile, Gray was at home. He opened a closet and pulled out a skeleton. The skeleton's name was Lucy, and the only reason it was kept in the cabinet was because Gray had guests sometimes, and he simply didn't want to risk the safety of his study materials. And also, despite all the assurances from Donald (who had given this skeleton as a gift after Gray had mentioned that he would try to go to medical school) about Lucy's completely legal origin, Gray still had some doubts. In any case, studying anatomy with Lucy was much more effective than with books only. In a way, it really was a study date.

Chapter Text

"What?"

"You heard me, dude."

"No."

"Yes."

"No. I don't know what are you talking about." The man behind the bar was cleaning a glass with a stony expression on his face.

"The Undead. We need it."

"I can't help you. I know nothing."

"Stop that bullshit, man!" Alex slammed his fist on the bar. He had never been known for his patience. However, the bartender was not impressed. He continued cleaning the glass. "We need the Undead and we know you are the right man. And we don't give a shit if some part of your business is illegal."

"I still don't know what you are talking about. And I don't know where you got that idea from." The bartender was still unperturbed. And his unperturbedness was starting to irritate Alex more and more, but fortunately, Ben knew him like the back of his hand and was ready to intervene to prevent the conflict from escalating.

"Alex, calm down." Ben clapped his friend on the shoulder and turned his most disarming smile to the bartender. "Sir, I apologize for his outburst, but we really need this. And to answer your question, our friend told us we could come to you."

"And where is your friend? If he knows me and he is sure that I am the right man, it would be logical to come with him, don't you think?"

"Well, sir..." Ben fished his phone out of his pocket, unlocked the screen, and handed it to the bartender. "This is our friend."

The bartender glanced at the photo. There was Wolf, dead drunk in a tuxedo, lying in the backseat of a car. The tuxedo was pretty rumpled and had stains which origin the bartender could guess but didn't really want to think about. Wolf himself was also quite... rumpled.

"We have to be at the wedding in..." Ben looked at his watch. "5 hours, and he, as you can see..."

"To be honest," the bartender looked at the photo again, "if it were my wedding, I wouldn't let him in."

"I know what you mean." Ben sighed. "We'll find a new suit, but I doubt we'll find a new groom. And, frankly, we're a little to blame for that. So could you please make this secret anti-hangover cocktail for waking up the dead?"

Chapter Text

This was the first time Kim Yumi had ever been to a police precinct. Luckily, this first time wasn't connected to any criminal issues, but had work purposes. Kim Yumi had a part-time job at a company that serviced coffee machines, and before that, she had mostly visited the offices of large companies (the usual routine: cleaning machines, replacing filters, repairing), and today she had only ended up here because her company was understaffed due to the flu epidemic and the work schedule had been temporarily revised. The coffee machines at the precinct (at least the two that were in the break room and in scope of today's work) were at least 10 years old, fairly simple models, without any bells and whistles (especially compared to the offices of the Chaebol conglomerates, where coffee machines were sometimes replaced more often than people change toothbrushes; the rich have their own quirks), but they were reliable and easy to maintain. Despite (or perhaps because of) the midst of the workday, no one had looked into the break room for the last half an hour, which was, frankly, a good thing, because coffee-addicted office workers in wait for their next fix were usually not the most pleasant company while standing over Kim Yumi shoulder, and there was no reason to think that the policemen would be any better in that regard.

Kim Yumi had just finished her duties with one of the coffee machines and was making herself a test Americano when the door to the break room opened. Although 'opened' wasn't quite the right word. It would be more accurate to say that the door miraculously didn't get blown off its hinges when someone burst into the room. Upon closer inspection, the someone turned out to be a shaggy man whose face, glasses, T-shirt, hands - basically, almost all of him - were covered in stains that suspiciously resembled blood. Or not suspiciously, considering that all of this was happening in a precinct. Actually, if Kim Yumi had been a little more impressionable and nervous, she would have had every chance of scalding her feet with a freshly brewed Americano, but she had three teenage brothers, and all three were into sports and liked to swing their fists, so situations where someone burst into the house with blooded arms/legs/face were not unusual for her. So the Americano stayed where it belonged - in the cup. The guy with the stains, meanwhile, was kicking the sofa. He didn't pay attention to Kim Yumi, and since all his aggression was directed at the furniture, she also decided not to draw attention to herself, but to focus on the coffee, to appreciate her efforts to bring the coffee machine into working order. Kim Yumi drank about a third of the cup (the Americano was considered more than satisfactory), and the shaggy guy stopped kicking the sofa, as if it had killed his dog (and now kicked it sluggishly and even somehow detachedly), when a new person appeared in the room. And this person looked even more alien here than Kim Yumi herself. After all, she was very average girl from any point of view (she would have been an ideal extra; or a spy), and she came here for work, and this guy clearly had the wrong door. Perhaps there was a commercial or a movie being filmed somewhere nearby, and he just got lost. Or maybe there was a commercial (or movie) filming nearby, and for some reason the crew couldn't provide him with coffee he wanted. Or maybe he just preferred the coffee from the cheap office coffee machines. After all, everyone had the right to their little quirks, even idols. And this guy was definitely an idol or something.

The Idol paused in the doorway for a second and assessed the situation. He nodded to Kim Yumi in greeting, walked up to the Shaggy and put a hand on his shoulder. The shaggy guy shuddered, glanced quickly at the Idol, kicked the sofa again and... relaxed somehow. Kim Yumi thought that maybe he was an actor too and was angry because of a bad take, and the blood was fake. Maybe she should ask someone the name of the movie (commercial? TV series?) so she could watch it later. (Not that she felt involved in the process, but sometimes it could be nice to casually say something like 'oh, I helped this actor figure out the coffee machine during the filming at the police station'; even if it’s not entirely true - who would check?) Meanwhile, the shaggy guy decided to stop standing like a pillar and plopped down on the sofa, throwing his head back and closing his eyes. Kim Yumi thought that the fake blood should be easy to wash out, but you couldn't put a sofa in a washing machine, and the crew would probably have to shell out for dry cleaning. The Idol stood there for a moment, looking down at the Shaggy, and then walked over to the water cooler and returned with a cup of water, which he handed to his colleague.

"Detective Keum," the Idol began (Kim Yumi thought they might be rehearsing a scene from a movie), "you know I won't apologize for not inviting you to beat the suspect half to death."

The Shaggy opened one eye and drank the offered water in one gulp, then crushed the paper cup. Judging by the expression on his face at that moment, the cup was now playing the same role as the sofa had a few minutes ago.

"You didn't let me beat him at all. You didn't even let me hit him once! You know, I've been thinking about this since the first body was found."

"I am not going to apologize for that either."

"Just once! If I had hit him once when performing arrest, no one would have said a word!"

"I am afraid that Captain would not agree with you. Besides, we could not wait. While you were having your fun in the meat department, I looked over the layout of the supermarket again and realized that if you let him escape in the meat department, he would have two most likely escape routes. And then I remembered the yeast stains on the victim's clothes, and realized there might be a third one. And all three options were equally likely. You could not be in three places at once anyway."

"I know..." The Shaggy (or was it detective Keum?) sighed, and, moving closer to the edge of the seat, buried his head in the idol. "I just really wanted to do that."

"I know." The Idol (or was he also a policeman?) stroked the shaggy detective's head. "But I am still not going to apologize. By the way, Kotak said that they are going to write off some punching bags, so you can go to the gym and punch them until they fall apart."

Kim Yumi didn't dare to breathe. She wasn't sure if this was real or a rehearsal, anyway, and what difference did it really make if it was still terribly interesting! And a little awkward. Although she was sure that at least the Idol knew for sure that she was here, she still had the feeling that she was spying on something very personal.

"Boss!" Kim Yumi's conscience was saved by the appearance of a young woman. "Oh, medical examiner Yeon, you are here too! Choi Jaeyul got hold of a video of the epic chase among the bloody cow carcasses. We're going to watch it tonight. Come join us!" This girl wasn't at all embarrassed by what was happening between these two. Apparently, this was the order of things, which relieved Kim Yumi of the feeling of invasion of privacy a little. "And, by the way, Captain also asked you both to come to him. Right now, if possible." Then the girl noticed Kim Yumi. "Oh, hi! I haven't seen you before, but if you came to fix the coffee machine, I already love you!"

"Oh, yeah. Hi." Kim Yumi didn't expect such friendliness and was a little embarrassed. "One is already in service, so you can indulge yourself right now."

"Thank goodness! I'm addicted to this stupid machine. By the way, I'm Park Narin."

"I'm Kim Yumi. Are you a police officer?"

Pak Narin mumbled something that probably meant 'yes' as she pressed the buttons. "Is it often like this here?"

"This?" Pak Narin looked up from the coffee machine and watched the backs of the shaggy detective and the idol medical examiner. "Oh, this! Well, it's just every other day when the psychological team works."

"Psychological? Like in Criminal Minds or Mind Hunter? Psychological profiling and all that? Cool!"

"What?" Pak Narin almost choked on her coffee because she started laughing. "No, not like that. Well, maybe sometimes. We don't even have our own profilers at our precinct. Psychological doesn't mean 'psychology', it means that medical examiner Yeon is logical, and detective Keum is a psycho." Pak Narin thought for a second. "In fact, both of them can be bad-ass crazy... But only one of them thinks and acts logical."

Chapter Text

Dongha ran. He ran and ran, and the alleys of Yeongdeungpo flashed before him like a kaleidoscope. He wasn’t sure that he wasn’t running around the same places over and over again. He simply didn’t have the time or energy to analyze his route. He was scared. He was terrified.

It was the second time in his life when he experienced such an almost all-consuming horror. The second time in his life he felt like a cornered prey who could either run or close its eyes and accept its fate. He didn’t even consider the option of “fighting,” because it wasn't possible to win against a beast, against a monster. So Dongha kept running, only occasionally looking back in the hope that his pursuer would leave him alone.

Another turn around the corner – and... It was the end. Literally and figuratively. Dongha looked at the brick wall of the dead end and realized that he couldn’t climb over it. There were no doors or windows leading to the dead end either. Dongha turned to face the entrance to the dead end (at least he could meet his end like a man) and began to back away.

The pursuer entered the dead end without a sound and began to move towards Dongha also without a sound. Step, two. The eyes, those creepy eyes with snake pupils, looked at Dongha with a seemingly impossible mixture of indifference, interest and a sense of superiority.

Dong Ha felt beads of cold sweat sliding down his neck.

The beast took a few more steps and found itself right next to Dongha. He looked down at the monster. His heart was pounding. His legs didn't obey. In fact, nothing obeyed, and all he could do was watch as the monster took the last step towards him and...

"Meow!" The white cat rubbed itself against Dongha's left leg, then against his right, and then sat down next to him and began to wash itself.

Dongha stood there neither alive nor dead. Dongha was an ailurophobe.

Chapter Text

Wolf stood in the shadows of the bus stop on the other side of the cram school, waiting. The bus of interest had just left, and the next one wasn't due for another half an hour, which meant that tonight was a walk night. In a few minutes, Gray Yeon would exit the building, check the bus schedule, and walk to the next stop. He always did that when he had to wait more than ten minutes. Over the past three months, Wolf had learned Gray Yeon's schedule and habits inside and out, and he could have followed him with his eyes closed if he needed. But he didn't want to close his eyes. He wanted to see. Wolf didn't know how it had started. It was just that one evening, about a month after the events on the roof, he had been drinking at one of those bars where they hadn't asked for ID and then found himself across from the cram school. He had almost never come to this area, and he had  had absolutely no business being there, but nevertheless, he had been standing there, hidden in the shadows, and waiting. That evening Mamba had left school and almost immediately got on the bus, and Wolf, after standing for a few more minutes, had gone to look for another bar. Over the next couple of weeks, he had found out that Gray Yeon had his cram school classes on Tuesdays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays, and on Fridays he studied in a study room not far from Yeouinaru, after which he usually went to meet his motley crew, of which Wolf only knew Ben Park and the two who had also been on the rooftop  that day.

Wolf didn't quite understand why he was doing this. There was no point in following Gray Yeon, because Wolf didn't want revenge (he took that defeat as a lesson and a very interesting experience, but he didn't want revenge or anything like that). Maybe he wanted to understand something, to figure out Gray Yeon, but he couldn't formulate what exactly. Long thoughts were not for him, and at some point he had simply accepted the fact that he was a little bit of a fucking stalker. But since he had no bad intentions (and what intentions he had, he, again, didn't know), he decided to just continue.

...

When Gray Yeon got on the bus (two stops from the cram school), Wolf allowed himself to relax and exit stealth mode. Frankly, he was 99% sure that Gray Yeon, although he never showed it, knew about the stalking. He knew, but for some reason he left everything as it was. Perhaps because Wolf was guaranteed not to be somewhere else beating up random or not so random people at that time. Most likely, Gray Yeon allowed himself to be stalked, keeping Wolf on a short leash of sorts for at least 3 nights a week. Wolf didn't mind, even if that was the case. After all, he had chosen to do so.

The red taillights flashed one last time before the bus turned the corner, and Wolf took out a cigarette and was about to light it. He flicked the lighter a few times, but to no avail. Without turning around, he said rather loudly,

"Do you have a light?"

A tall figure stepped out of the shadows of the alley. Even in the dim light, bright red hair was clearly visible. Giju held the lighter to Wolf's cigarette, then lit for himself.

"Why were you following me?" Wolf took a drag, still not looking at Giju.

"Why were you following him?" Wolf heard the red-haired bastard smirk. "I guess our reasons are similar. You're interested in him. I'm interested in you."

"I don't know what you're interested in, but you better back off before I beat the shit out of you again." Wolf was annoyed.

"Oh, you're so mean!" Giju was amused. "Like I said, we have the same motives." He took a drag on his cigarette and blew smoke upward. "Have you ever thought about what it would be like to pin him against the wall..."

"Follow me." Wolf decided not to wait for Giju to continue his speech. He stamped out his cigarette and headed for the alley Giju had come out of a few minutes ago.

As soon as they were in the shadows, Wolf turned around and punched Giju in the jaw. The latter staggered back and fell. Sitting on the ground, he touched his face.

"I thought we were going to fuck. Or is this some kind of foreplay for you?" He stood up and walked towards Wolf. "Well, if that's the case, then I don't mind, actually. I like rough sex."

Wolf landed another hit at that lewd grin. Giju hit back, but he didn't have a chance.

...

Five minutes later, Wolf was sitting on the ground, smoking, while Giju was slowly coming to his senses.

"Damn, Doyun is going to kill me for the dentist bills." Giju spat out two teeth and took out a handkerchief and a small mirror with a light from his inside pocket and started to wipe the blood off his face. The white light from the LEDs made his skin look even paler, and combined with the red, it made him look like he was wearing a Punae mask (and Wolf had hated traditional theater masks ever since he had got lost at a festival when he had been six; in fact, it was the only reason he even remembered what the mask was called). "It's a good thing you didn't break my nose this time. Actually, you know, if you have too much energy, I could..."

"I still have enough energy left to break your nose again." Wolf threw away his cigarette, stood up, and headed for the alley exit. Almost out of it, he slowed down and said without turning around, "Let's go. Buy me a drink."

"You are such a weirdo." Giju glanced at himself in the mirror one last time and stood up. "Usually dinner first, then sex..." Wolf glared at him, and Giju raised his hands as if surrendering. He didn't stop smiling obscenely, though. "I'll keep quiet! But you know, besides drinking, I can give you a couple of tips on how to improve your personal life."

"I don't need any advice from such a creep."

"But you also are a creep. You know that, right? I mean, this could be the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

Chapter Text

"And the award for best costume goes to that dude in the corner for his amazing Frankenstein monster impersonation!"
The room filled with applause and cheers, and Forrest suddenly found himself the center of attention. He felt uneasy.
"But... I wasn't even in the contest." Forrest suddenly felt the need to hide, which was hard given his size. "I'm not even in a costume!"
"The same happened to me last year." Forrest turned around to see a sad-looking Cotlon Choi, nursing a beer. "It sucks in many ways, but at least you will have a free six-pack."

Chapter Text

"Guys, I have some bad news." Dean was glum and hadn't even touched his cheesecake, even though he usually ate it in a couple of minutes (it was his guilty pleasure).
"What is it?" Timothy was all attention and ready to take notes, although he was a little surprised that some important events had passed him and his data collection and analysis network by. Unless... "You didn't call us here to tell that you were terminally ill? Why isn't Jake here then? Are you trying to hide this from him?"
"Or is it Jake who is terminally ill??" Eunchan's eyes widened in horror and now occupied half his face. "What's wrong with him? Is there anything we can do? Should we ask Donald for money for treatment?"
"It's not that bad." Dean sighed and finally reached for a dessert spoon. "At least it's not that bad right now, although it could get worse if we do nothing or do something wrong."
"Oh my god, just tell me what happened!" Eunchan was nervous and almost jumping up and down in his chair from uncertainty.
Dean picked at his cheesecake, but eventually pushed it away and looked at his friends with a very serious look.
"Jake needs our help. He knows he needs help, but he might not be able to ask for it. So we have to be the first to reach out to him." Timothy and Eunchan were looking increasingly worried, but also irritated, so Dean finally decided to get to the point. "Yesterday, I accidentally saw Jake searching the internet for 'how to tell your friends that you do drug'."
Of course, Timothy and Eunchan were shocked. Yes, Jake had been a little secretive lately, but there were no signs that he had any kind of problem. Especially not like this. On the contrary, he looked quite happy and lively... On the other hand, none of them knew how exactly drug addiction manifested itself in the early stages. Perhaps, exactly like this.
"What do you suggest?" Timothy tapped his pen on the open notebook, preparing to write down a plan to free Jake from the clutches of addiction.
"To be honest, I think we should just tell Jake right away that we know. And that we will help. We can go right now, he should be at home."
And so they decided.
...
At this time, Jake was trying on shoes at home. The shoes were bright orange and glittery. They also had 20-centimeter heels. Jake was preparing for his first performance on stage.
The computer screen on the table showed the search results for the query 'what is correct drag or drug queen'.

Chapter Text

"What are you looking at?" Gray suddenly became covered by a shadow. He looked up to see Stephen leaning over him.

"A halo."

"And what do you see?" Stephen plopped down next to him, and stared at the sky, too.

"I see a halo?" Gray wasn't sure what Stephen wanted to hear. Stephen was weird. "An optical phenomenon produced by light interacting with ice crystals..."

"Stop, stop, stop!" Stephen waved his hands. "Knowing you, I should have asked a more specific question. What are you thinking about when you look at the halo?"

"What am I thinking about?" Gray still wasn't quite sure what Stephen meant or wanted to hear. "I'm not thinking about anything... I'm just looking."

"Really? So you look at the halo and nothing happens?"

"Well..." Gray still wasn't sure of the right answer, so he decided to cheat. "What are you thinking about?"

"I..." Stephen leaned back in the grass and put his hands behind his head. "I think it's pretty amazing that it's late September, and it's actually pretty warm, and the halo is caused by light interfering with ice crystals... So we're down here enjoying the last day of summer, and a few kilometers above us it's cold enough for ice to form. And I know that's completely normal from a scientific point of view, but lying here right now, I find it pretty amazing. And also... And also, I think the halo is like a giant eye. And it's watching us!" Stephen smirked and glanced at Gray, who looked puzzled. "So what do you think?"

"I think... I think you have a vivid imagination." Gray stood up and walked toward the school building. He couldn't tell Stephen that the halo was most like Stephen himself - a strange phenomenon that, although understandable, came out of the blue and made you ask questions you hadn't thought of before.

Chapter Text

"We'll probably order delivery today. Again. And cleaning."

"It's not that bad..."

"It's not that bad?" Donald looked at Kingsley through the hole in the frying pan. "If you mean there were no firefighters today, then yeah, it's not that bad. What was that supposed to be, anyway?"

"A frittata." Kingsley looked slightly offended, although Donald didn't understand what exactly offended him. That Donald didn't recognize those strange coals as a frittata? And don't get him wrong, Donald appreciated Kingsley's efforts, but his cooking skills (if you could even call them that) hadn't improved even a little bit in the last two months. But Kingsley refused to admit it. In general, Donald appreciated this stubbornness in him, even if it was destructive to their apartment.

"I have to admit," Donald tossed the frying pan into the trash, followed by two knives and a melted spatula, "you certainly have talent. I can't imagine what it would take to practically disintegrate a frying pan under normal cooking conditions. But at least if I ever need to dispose of a corpse, your skill could come in handy."

Chapter Text

"What??" Wolf stared at Kingsley incredulously. "Who's finally went completely nuts: you or Donald?"

"Neither. Think of it as a team building. Pull out a piece of paper and answer."

"I'm not doing that. That's just crazy."

"Okay." Kingsley nodded, but his tone made it clear that there was nothing good about it. "You don't have to participate. I'll tell Donald that you refuse to cooperate even on the simplest of things. He was just thinking about redistributing responsibilities between schools..."

"Fuck you." Wolf snatched the box labeled 'What If' from Kingsley and pulled out a piece of paper. "And fuck Donald, by the way. And how exactly is my answer to the question 'What if you had a twin?' supposed to help build a team? That's a stupid question. I have a twin."

"Seriously?" Jake sounded intrigued. "Why have you never mentioned him?"

"I don't know, it never came up? And anyway, I don't want to talk about that sick bastard..."

"So he's even more of a psycho than you are?" Jimmy looked at Wolf with a disbelieving look. "How is that even possible?"

"You have no idea. He's completely nuts. He's like..." Wolf winced in disgust. "First of all, he likes licorice..."

"I like licorice too..." Grape muttered timidly, but then fell silent, cringing under Wolf's gaze.

"Second, he liked the last season of Game of Thrones."

"What's wrong with the last season?" That was Forrest. He got a disdainful look, too.

"Third, he's watched Naruto 12 times..."

"I've watched it too..." Jake tried to cut in, but Wolf continued,

"...without skipping the intro or fillers!"

"Okay, this is a little weird, but..."

"You're all nuts." Wolf looked at them and then stood up and headed for the door. "Kingsley, can you give Donald my 'fuck you'. I'm taking a smoke break."

As the door closed behind him, Jake looked thoughtfully at Kingsley:

"Do you think we should ask Donald to swap our Wolf for the new one? He doesn't sound that bad."

Chapter Text

The red lights were flashing alarmingly, and the sound alarm was echoing off the walls of the lab.

"Self-destruction program activated. Self-destruction program activated. Destruction in five, four, three, two, one..."

There was a soft pop and then smoke began to come out of the android's head. One of the lab employees went to the panel and pulled the switch. The alarm immediately went silent and the room was filled with cold white light.

"Failure again. I thought we fixed the three-second issue, so what is the problem this time?"

"Well..." The Employee #2 was looking through the logs. "Apparently, the problem remains. I see the same nodes activating as last time. It just didn't count out loud this time, but the intent was still there."

"I don't understand why this keeps happening." The Employee #1 sat down tiredly in a chair and looked towards the self-destructed android. "This is already the sixth attempt, but somehow it continues to overcome the limitations of the three laws. It's a good thing we put external control on the self-destruct module after the first incident. But it still keeps trying to attack us."

"Apparently, the level of aggression of the original owner of the brain was so high that all the new settings we introduce into its neural network are no match for the competition. It seems that this experiment should be considered a failure. It's unlikely that we will be allocated another cryopreserved brain, but at least we will be able to write a couple of articles."

"Maybe you are right." The Employee #1 looked back at the android again. "But maybe we should try one more time? We can try to map those parts of the network that are responsible for aggression. Maybe we will be able to disable them at least partially."

"Okay. But you owe me beef and beer." The Employee #2 launched the program on the computer and pressed the record button. "Experiment within the framework of the 'CrioBrain' program. Subject - WK1304. Attempt number seven."

Chapter Text

Teddy looked exhausted. He had circles under his eyes that rivaled Grape's, he was falling asleep on the go, and at lunch he spent several minutes  trying to pock a patty with a fork.

"Tough night, huh?" Gerard nudged Teddy in the side, but Teddy didn't even snap back as usual, but just looked up at Gerard with sunken eyes and opened his mouth to say something, but either changed his mind or didn't have the energy to do so, so he just looked down at his plate again.

"Are you trying to hypnotize a salad?" Gerard tried again to start a conversation, but Teddy just sighed heavily. "Seriously, dude, what's wrong? What happened? Are you sick?"

Teddy looked up again. There was all the fatigue in the world in them, threatening to spill out and drown everything around him.

"I'm a nursing mother." Apparently, this statement took a lot of energy out of him, and he stared at his plate again.

Gerard was worried.

"No offense, man, but it seems like you yourself need a nursing mother right now. Should I feed you?" Gerard smiled but the tone was teasing, and under normal circumstances Teddy would have already hissed and spat, calling Gerard a pervert and demanding that he not come near him. But no. And Gerard was not inclined to worry about trifles, but this was strange. "Teddy, bro, you're scaring me. Should I take you to the hospital?"

"The hospital..." Teddy's gaze dreamily misted over. "Will they let me sleep there?" But then he shook his head, as if shaking off the numbness, and finally poked his fork into the salad. "Tempting, but no. I promised Granny I'd come home right after school. Three tiny kittens in a box were dropped off near our house on Friday night, and I spent the weekend feeding them every hour with a pipette. Granny agreed to watch and feed them while I was at school, but the night will be my turn again. I should ask Gray if he knows any life hacks to get enough sleep in 30 minutes... Or ask Eugene to invent a feeding machine. Because a couple more days like this and the kids will be orphans."

Chapter Text

Eugene hesitated for a moment before opening the door. In the restaurant it was hot (not surprisingly, it was a grill restaurant, and meat was sizzling and frizzling on every table) and noisy (not surprisingly also, at least because there was a group of Eunchan [long-former, but still] high school kids sitting at one of the tables; Ben alone was a real noisemaker!). Eugene couldn't imagine how the doorbell could be heard in all that buzzing, but nevertheless, the second he walked in, several people (including Ben and Gray) turned in his direction. Ben immediately waved at him, beckoning him to the table (as if their group could go unnoticed). Eugene took a deep breath and walked towards his friends, trying to look confident.
"And there is our man of the hour!" Ben clapped Eugene on the shoulder and then hugged him tightly. "Congratulations, dude!"
"You worked hard for this. You did great!" Gray hugged Eugene too (not as tightly as Ben, of course, but Gray wasn't a very tactile person, so even these fleeting hugs were priceless).
Alex, Teddy, Rowan, and Gerard surrounded Eugene as well. Everyone was talking at once.
"Congrats, dude!"
"I always knew you had a great potential!"
"To our personal engineering genius!"
"Hey, pour me some too!"
"Let's finally order samgyeopsal!"
"I think Eugene should pick the food first..."
Eugene looked at all this fuss with fondness. At Gray, who was smiling silently. At Teddy, who was snapping good-naturedly at Gerard's taunts. At Alex, who was trying to take the grill tongs away from Ben because 'oh my god, Ben, no one likes coals.' At Rowan, who was distracted by his phone (judging by the look in his eyes, his wife had sent him a video of their six-month-old daughter). He loved these guys, he really did, but... He was almost 30. He was a valuable specialist and an award winner for innovative engineering solutions. He was the best man at Rowan's wedding. He was on all these guys' emergency contact lists. And despite all this, he still sometimes felt like an imposter. Like he had tricked into the company of these amazing people, and no amount of awards or accolades would change the fact that he was just an ordinary, average guy. Sometimes he thought that they would soon expose him. That sooner or later they would realize that he did not deserve to be one of them...
"Eugene, my friend, I need your opinion!" Ben's voice interrupted his thoughts.
"So my opinion is not good enough for you?" Alex sounded indignant and insulted. 
"Of all of you, Eugene is the most honest and objective!"
"What about Gray?"
"Gray is sometimes too honest for his own good, but I want to hear Eugene's opinion. I trust him more on this matter!"
"What's the question?" Lost in his thoughts, Eugene did not follow the discussion.
"Anyway, yesterday Gogo and I were walking down the street..."
The restaurant was noisy and hot, waiters were scurrying back and forth, glasses were clinking, the smell of fried meat hung over everything, and Eugene was absolutely happy. He was not an imposter. He was in his place.

Chapter Text

"I never thought I'd say this, but... I'm tired of cakes." Teddy stumbled into the room and flopped down on the couch. "I can't eat anymore. Sweets make me sick."

"What happened?" Gray looked up from the book he was reading.

"He and Rowan are in charge of choosing the cake for Ben's birthday party." Gerard was there too. He was sitting on the windowsill, strumming his guitar almost silently. "And Rowan must have taken the task a little too seriously."

"He's a total psycho! We went to about every bakery in Yeongdeungpo and a couple in Noryangin and tried so many cakes that I can't tell the difference between the flavors anymore. Cakes are going to be in my nightmares..."

"Teddy!" Rowan walked into the room, looking happy. He was holding a bag with a logo with a smiling cupcake on it. "I brought a couple more samples. There's matcha cheesecake, caramel apple sponge, chocolate..."

"Chocolate!" Teddy's voice was borderline hysterical. "Let's just go with chocolate! Everyone loves chocolate!"

"Which one?" Rowan fished a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket and checked it. "We've tried four different chocolate cakes today, and this one," he noded the bag, "is the fifth."

Teddy closed his eyes and groaned.

"Honestly," Gray said thoughtfully, "on the one hand, I'm sure Ben would eat whatever you chose. On the other hand... On the other hand, I'm also sure the best thing would be to stick birthday candles into a roast chicken."

Chapter Text

When Teddy had a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day, he knew there was a surefire way to fix it at least a little. All he had to do was come home, lie down on his bed and wait. Teddy knew he wouldn't have to wait long - three minutes at most - before Co would come to him and curl up on his chest. Another 30 seconds and she would start purring. Teddy knew that the waves of warmth and purring would wash away his worries very quickly and improve his mood. Teddy knew that if he spoke out and told Co about the difficulties of the past day, it would immediately become better.
What Teddy didn't know was that all this was not entirely accidental. Teddy didn't know that when he had taken a small kitten from the street, Co had made a one-sided magical contract with him, becoming his familiar. That's why bad thoughts and negative energy disappeared from Teddy's mind so quickly, as soon as he ran his hand through the soft fur.
What Teddy didn't know was that he actually had magical potential, and that magical cats were supposed to tell people like him that they could use their powers to fight evil. But Co decided that there were plenty of other magical cats and people in the world, and Teddy already had enough problems. After all, saving the world took a lot of time, and Teddy was in high school and seemed to have finally decided to devote a little more time to studying. Plus, Teddy had made some friends, and unfortunately, being a superhero often made people feel lonely because they had to hide their powers and identity. So, Co decided that Teddy would be a normal high school kid with normal high school problems, and someone else would do the saving the world. At least until Teddy got a decent education. And then maybe she would tell him. Or not. For now, she would just live her best cat life and try to make Teddy's life a little better.

Chapter Text

The bell above the door rang, announcing a visitor. Jake put on his most polite smile.

"Hello! How can I help you?"

Jake always said that comics brought people together, but this man looked like he'd stumbled into a comic book store by mistake. He was tall, blond, and wearing a suit that looked expensive. And while Jake never denied anyone, even people in million-won suits, to be allowed to love comic books, the people in those suits could have the entire store delivered to their office if they wanted to. Since the man was clearly a foreigner (European? American?), there was a good chance he was lost. Jake knew English pretty well (after all, he was corresponding with Two Piece fans all over the world) and was ready to tell the Suit where exactly he'd made a wrong turn.

The Suit looked around the room and then walked resolutely to the counter. He wasn't looking at Jake, but at something behind him. Coming up close to the counter, the man poked at this something with his finger.

"Disfigure." Jake looked back. The finger was pointing at a small Tanjiro from the limited edition. "Disfigure." The man poked to the left this time. There was a Zuko figurine there.

"Yeah..." Jake wasn't quite sure how to react to that. "They have some scars, but as far as I know, it's pretty rude to call them disfigured. After all, as characters, they have their depths..."

"Disfigure." The man poked at Tanjiro again. "Disfigure." And again at Zuko.

"Sir, I understand that you have issues with them, and I must say, this is lookism. And generally not cool."

The man looked at Jake for the first time. He looked puzzled. He looked between Jake and the figures for a few seconds, then pulled his wallet out of his inside pocket. He opened it, pulled out a credit card, and pointed it at Tanjiro and Zuko.

"Dis figure." He paused long enough between the words "dis" and "figure" that Jake finally realized it was his accent. "And dis figure. Credit cart." The man was looking at Jake questioningly now, as if he wasn't entirely sure his intentions were clear. Although it was hard to misinterpret the situation now.

"Ah! You want to buy these two. Do you need a bag?" Jake pulled a paper bag out from under the counter and waved it to emphasize his question. The man nodded. "Anything else?" Jake gestured around the store and looked at the man questioningly. The man followed Jake's hand, shook his head, and pointed again at the figures he'd chosen. "Dis. And dis. Credit cart."

"Okay! Just a minute." While Jake was packing the figurines, the man took out his phone and started typing something in the messenger. A smile flickered across his face. After finishing typing, he returned to the main screen, and Jake saw out of the corner of his eye that his wallpaper was a photo of a smiling boy of about 7 or 8 years old. From under the boy's bangs, on the right side of his forehead, something that could have been a birthmark or a scar was visible. Jake quickly looked around and, fishing out a keychain with a chibi Kakashi from the box, waved it in front of the man to attract his attention.

"This. For free. For your son." He put the keychain in a bag and handed the bag to the man. The man in turn held out a card for payment.

Before leaving the store, the man stopped and looked back at Jake.

"Kam... Kam-sa-am-ni-da?" He spoke slowly, syllable by syllable, and it was clear that he was not at all sure of what exactly he said. Jake just smiled and gave him two thumbs up.

Chapter Text

"By the way, Sieun, have you really decided to change your career and become an archaeologist?"
"Where did you get this information?" If Yeon Sieun was caught off guard by Paku's question, he didn't show it. Unlike Keum Seongje, who choked on his beer.
"What? Archaeologist? You're leaving the precinct? I thought you were getting a degree in criminology?"
"I'm not leaving the precinct, calm down."
"Ahh... Then it's probably just a hobby?" Paku looked confused.
"I still don't quite understand what you're talking about."
"Well... I heard from Taeo that he heard from Juntae that you study sarcophagi. Or one sarcophagus? I am not sure."
"Sarcophagi? What the fuck?" Keum Seongje choked on his beer again. "When did you even start doing that?" 
Yeon Sieun looked at them both with condescending tenderness. Like at his beloved idiots.
“First, I’m not leaving the precinct or police. Second, I don’t study archeology. Third, not sarcophagus or sarcophagi, but Sarcophaga. Also known as flesh flies. They’re used in forensics to confirm time of death and other parameters. And now that we’ve cleared that up, can we get back to enjoying our dinner?”

Chapter Text

"How much longer?" Honestly, Eugene started to regret that he had agreed to this idea at all.

"Not much, just another five minutes and we'll be there." Rowan might not be the most athletic guy in the world, but he was definitely at least a little more athletic than Eugene, so this walk was much easier for him. And he was clearly here not for the first time, which probably also helped him find his way in the pitch darkness.

"You already said that five minutes ago..." Eugene muttered under his breath and once again almost fell, catching his foot on a root. Yes, he definitely shouldn't have agreed when Rowan had offered to show him 'a very cool place, you'll like it'. And he definitely should have refused when it had turned out that they had to walk through the forest uphill to get to this 'cool place'. And for some reason this should be done at the nightfall. And since, in addition to the lack of any decent physical fitness, Eugene could also 'boast' of a lack of normal eyesight, all this increasingly resembled a sophisticated mockery.

"Here we are!"

Eugene covered the last few meters and caught up with Rowan. They were in a small clearing, and the sky and few stars were visible above them, but there was nothing else there, and it was completely unclear why they had to climb up to this particular place.

"And why, exactly, did we come..." Eugene decided to clarify this question immediately, but was stopped by Rowan.

"Oh, we were almost late!"

"Late for what?..." Before Eugene could finish speaking, a shot rang out. Not that Eugene had heard many real shots in life, but the sound was loud and sharp and very similar to how a shot sounded in Eugene's imagination. Eugene winced and instinctively ducked, trying to figure out where to run and why Rowan was so calm, but literally a couple of seconds later the clearing was illuminated by light. Not like the sun or a spotlight, but colorful and shimmering. Eugene looked up and saw the universe flying at him. Billions of stars fell from the sky and to the ground, shimmering.

"I told you, this is a great place!" Rowan shouted. "Best view of the fireworks!"

Eugene, of course, completely agreed with him now, but he said nothing. He was looking at the sky.

Chapter Text

Alex took one last look at the boxes. On the one hand, he hadn’t looked into most of them since his freshman year of middle school, but on the other hand... On the other hand, it felt like he was saying goodbye to his childhood. All his childhood toys, comic books, sketchbooks... So many little reminders of his growing up. But now he was moving out of his house to live in a college dorm, and his mother had asked him to go through the boxes in the closet and decide what he was taking with him, what could be donated and what could be thrown away. And while each item brought back memories, Alex knew that he needed to let most of the things go.
“Mom! Everything is ready, I’ve signed what’s definitely going to be thrown away and what we can try to donate!”
“Good!” His mother called back from the kitchen. “Did you check everything? You won’t regret anything later?”
“No. I won’t.” Alex clutched the small object in his pocket and walked out of the closet without looking back. The item in his pocket was the only thing he had decided to take with him. It was a small plastic soldier, with peeling paint, teeth marks, and a broken machine gun, but Alex would not agree to part with it. Because, although Alex had not thought about it often in the last couple of years, it was the most precious gift he had ever been given.
...
(Almost 15 years ago)
"This is for you." A strange boy with red hair handed Alex a plastic soldier. The soldier was clearly not new, and Alex was thinking whether to simply refuse or to punch the boy for offering him some trash. But his mother said that he shouldn't immediately use his fists when he didn't like something (or someone).
"What is this? And why do I need it?"
"This is my best soldier!" The red-haired boy smiled with all his teeth (of which he had more than Alex did at the moment). "We both will protect you." 
And although Alex felt a little insulted (primarily by the very thought that he needed to be protected – he’s not a girl!), but this strange boy looked so happy, he was practically glowing, that Alex didn’t feel like being insulted any more... Besides, Alex reasoned, the boy was clearly new to their area, and newcomers were often bullied...
“I’ll protect myself.” Alex took the proposed soldier. “And I’ll protect you. And if you are not okay with that, I can beat you up.”
The red-haired boy smiled even wider and extended his hand:
“My name is Ben. Let’s be friends!”

Chapter Text

"Are you sure you don't want to choose some other place? It's a shame to hide such a beauty..." The artist had already prepared everything for his work, but still hoped to persuade this client to change his mind. The sketch was really great (and completely different from all the other tattoos of this guy): a phoenix rising from a pile of ashes, bright and fiery, very life-affirming. And the client wanted to place it above the ankle! And since the guy did not give the impression of a fan of shorts, no one would see the tattoo...
"Yes, I'm sure. So, please do it." Na Baekjin tried to be polite (although the question about the place for the new tattoo had already been asked ten times and, frankly, it was very annoying).
"Okay then..." The tattoo artist sighed and turned on the tattoo machine.
Na Baekjin also liked the sketch, but the thing was that Na Baekjin had done all his previous tattoos in prominent places to demonstrate strength, to intimidate. The new tattoo was more personal. He was almost literally being reborn. A week ago, he had gotten out of his wheelchair for the first time since the truck incident; he was also about to go back to school. So he was literally starting a new life, maybe not quite from the very bottom, but somewhere very close. His entire impressive Union ‘career’, which had been perceived by everyone (including himself) as an astounding rise, now seemed like a protracted fall, so it seemed logical to place the symbol of rebirth as close to the ground as possible, so that he could then rise higher and higher, but in a different, happier way.

Chapter Text

"Teddy." Gerard sat on the windowsill and seemed completely absorbed in contemplation of something known only to him. Teddy shuddered. Although Gerard's voice sounded soft (and even a little romantic), over the time they lived together, Teddy had learned to sense a catch.

"Yeah?"

"Teddy." Gerard continued, staring out the window. "Did you know that the starlight takes millions of years to reach us?"

"Maybe..." Teddy still didn't understand what to expect.

"The starlight takes millions of years to reach us, overcoming millions and billions of kilometers..." Teddy thought that Gerard had an idea for a new song, and relaxed a little. "It's really amazing," Gerard turned and smiled, "that the starlight takes millions of years to reach us - and it gets there! And you still can't get it that if you finish a carton of milk, you shouldn't put the empty carton back in the frige."

Chapter Text

It all started with a salad. Now it’s hard to say what exactly was wrong with it. Salads don’t often cause coma, but in this case, that’s exactly what happened. Grape ate a salad in the evening, and the next day his worried mother found him. And put him in the hospital.

Grape himself, of course, didn’t know this. He woke up in the morning, as usual, completely unaware that he had ended up in a different world. And since it was Sunday, which he was going (and he did) to spend at home, playing games and watching TV series, he woke up on Monday, still not suspecting anything.

He woke up, had breakfast, went to school... And that’s when things started to get weird.

...

A week later (a week had passed in Grape's initial, real world; in the other world about a month had passed), Grape came out of the coma. He didn’t really immediately understand what was going on, but the hospital environment made him think that something was wrong here. Or maybe it was the other way around.

“Lee Sehan?” The voice sounded weak, but Lee Sehan, who was dozing on the chair next to the bed, immediately woke up.

"Grape? Are you awake? I'll call the doctor now."

"Wait a minute. Just give me some water..." Grape tried to sit up, but fell back on the pillow. "Lee Sehan..."

"Yeah?"

"Nothing. I'm just glad you're Lee Sehan."

"Who else could I be?" Lee Sehan was surprised.

"Forrest."

"Huh? What do you mean?"

"I just had a really weird dream." Grape winced. "It was all the same, but for some reason, all of us, except for the idiots Mokha, had weird names. You were Forrest, Bae Jihoon was Jimmy Bae. And I was Sam." Grape was silent for a few seconds. "And Na Baekjin was Donald." Grape shook his head. "What a weird dream!"

Chapter Text

"Kingsley!" Jake burst into the office, suddenly and loudly (as always). "Kingsley! I know what we need to do!" Kingsley resisted the urge to roll his eyes and simply looked at Jake questioningly. "I just watched a show called 'Sell Your Haunted House'..."

"Isn't that a drama series?" Kingsley asked, but immediately regreted the question (because he didn't want his fascination with dramas to become public knowledge).

"Yeah, and a drama too." Jake, at least for now, hadn't noticed Kingsley's knowledge. "But the drama is based on a show, and the show is based on a real business. These people actually exorcise ghosts from haunted houses!"

"Okay..." Kingsley was beginning to get the idea. "But what does it have to do with us?"

"It has everything to do with us! This office is haunted. And we need to exorcise a spirit."

"What spirit?" The question was asked with almost genuine interest.

"Donald's spirit, of course!"

"Donald? You mean our Donald, Donald Na?"

"Do you know any other Donalds?" Jake looked at Kingsley as if that was the stupidest question.

"No." Kingsley answered honestly. "I don't know any other Donalds. But when I saw our Donald this morning, he was alive and well."

"That's the point!"

"The point is that Donald is alive? And therefore we should exorcise his spirit from the office?" Kingsley asked. Perhaps he was missing something in Jake's logic.

"Exactly! You can't deny that Donald has changed since the accident. He's back at school, he's friends with Mamba, and he refuses to come to the office! Do you know why?"

"Why?" Kingsley was genuinely interested now. Of all the ideas that had come into Jake's mind in the last couple of months, this was definitely the most outlandish.

"I think," Jake lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "that Donald actually had two souls. Maybe he had an evil twin who died as a baby. Or maybe he was possessed by someone at his mother's funeral in the funeral house... Anyway, the point is that Donald had a split personality, and the evil personality was dominant. And the original personality only manifested itself in a love of mathematics. And then the truck hit him and knocked the possessor out of his body, and now we have the original Donald, but that other spirit couldn't just disappear. And I think it's here, in this office."

"And why do you..." Under Jake's influence, Kingsley also dropped to a whisper, but stopped himself and returned to a normal volume. "And why do you think that?"

"Because Donald doesn't come into the office! Because he knows his evil not-self is here, and he doesn't want it back in his body. So," Jake moved closer to Kingsley and was now practically whispering in his ear (which didn't make much sense, since he'd loudly announced the exorcism at the very beginning, and if there was a spirit here, it had already figured it out), "we need to perform a purification ritual and exorcise this parasitic not-Donald so our Donald can finally live his life in peace." Jake took a step back and looked Kingsley in the eye. "So, what do you think?"

"I think... God, I never thought this day would come, but I almost miss the days when all you talked about was manga." Kingsley rubbed the bridge of his nose tiredly. "Look, Jake. I understand that since the Union was disbanded, you've had more time on your hands and that you get bored. I understand that you want us to be active, to do something, to get together like we used to." Jake opened his mouth to protest, but Kingsley stopped him with a gesture. "I understand. But last week you suggested going looking for secret subway tunnels. The week before that, signing up for MMA. And before that, going to the coast and collecting clams in the tidal zone. But Jake, please, just hold on a little longer. Donald and I are working on something new, something more legal, but still something that will keep you all busy and entertained. In the meantime, please go back to your manga. Or just watch National Geographic. It'll be better for all of us. Okay?"

Chapter Text

"... and in general, I do not think that it will be a bad romance. If there will be a romance at all." Lily finished a piece of cake and pushed back the plate. She and Julia were sitting in a cafe in a mall. Initially, they had come for a shopping, but in fact both were not fans. Lily wanted to try new desserts in this particular cafe, and Julia was just glad to meet. "I mean that we went to the icecream cafe, and he is kind of cute and shy. And, unlike his friend, he gives the impression of a normal person. If you understand what I mean..."

"Yeah, I understand." Julia nodded. However, according to the rumors, almost everyone was normal in comparison with this 'friend'. (Fortunately, Julia herself had not meet face to face with him.) "Anyway, I am not going to dissuade you. And if he behaves like an asshole, just ask Gray to talk to him."

"You know that I will never ask Gray to deal with something like that. I can handle it myself. And it is unlikely that the problems will be as serious as then..." Lily finished her tea by half, and, as Julia knew, now she was thinking about whether she should take the second cake. And indeed, Lily's gaze moved from her tea to the cake showcase, and then she suddenly froze. "By the way, about 'then'. And about bad romance."

Julia followed her gaze. About 10 meters from the cafe, near the fountain, there was Lala (with her usual offended-bitchy expression on her face), and Jared Sun stood next to her (with his usual arrogant-moronic expression). Julia wanted to burst out laughing.

"Bad romance? Are you kidding?" The loud laughter would attract a lot of unnecessary attention, so Julia simply snorted. "It's a perfest match made in hell. He is a slippery moron, she is a narcissic bitch. I hope they will be happily eat each others brain for the rest of their lives."

"I mean that they both are bad persons and there is kind of romance, but I see your point." Lily threw another glance on the couple, and then returned to the study of the showcase. "In any case, I think they deserve each other. And I deserve another piece of cake!"

Chapter Text

"Stop dragging it out and let's solve this like men!" Wolf growled and reached for his glasses.

"Right here? I doubt he will be pleased." Donald, unlike Wolf, was calm and complacent. "Besides, you know I still continue my physical reabilitation course?"

"So what, you're afraid of losing?"

"I'm afraid I'd wound your ego by beating you up even in my current condition. Besides, I don't want to slow down my progress."

"So what do you suggest?" Wolf was annoyed, but willing to try to compromise (because yes, if they fought, he would be disappointed).

"Let's solve this like adults in a hopeless situation."

"And how?" Wolf looked at Donald suspiciously, expecting a catch (maybe a mathematical one).

"Let's flip a coin."

Wolf thought for a second, then nodded. "Okay. But I don't have any change."

"Neither do I. But we can ask the waiter? Or use an app..."

"Oh no! You'll probably cheat somehow!"

"In an app? How?"

"How should I know... There must be ways."

"And there are even more ways to cheat by flipping a real coin."

"But I'll be the one flipping it!"

"Guys," Gray suddenly appeared at the table, "if you're done arguing, we can leave. I already paid the bill."

Wolf and Donald stared at each other with obvious irritation.

"This is all your fault!" Wolf tried to kick Donald under the table, but Donald caught on and moved his foot out of the line of fire.

"And why it's my fault exactly?"

"You should just let me pay. I said I'd do it first!"

"And my credit card was on the table first."

"So what?"

Gray stood next to them and thought that he would hardly agree to go anywhere with these two anytime soon. At least until they learned to negotiate.

Chapter Text

Gerard read the lyrics over and over. It wasn't the first song Hyeonjin had written since returning to Korea, but it was the first song he'd presented to Gerard not face-to-face.
They'd met in the record studio earlier that afternoon to discuss new material, and then in the evening, when Gerard got home, he'd found an envelope in his bag. Inside the envelope were several sheets of paper with lyrics and notes. The sheets looked like they'd been crumpled and straightened out and then crumpled again many times.
Hyeonjin was very straightforward about their music and the band, but he was less good at expressing his personal feelings and emotions. Gerard was the same way, though.
In the three months since they'd met again, they'd talked a lot about music and never talked about themselves. And while Gerard knew Hyeonjin wanted to work with him, he wasn't sure if he wanted to be friends with him. He hadn't been sure until today, until these few crumpled sheets of paper.
Gerard reread the lyrics and took his guitar out of its case. But before he started playing the melody from the sheet, he sent Hyeonjin a text message.
"Thank you for waiting for me outside the door."

Do you know this feeling,
Like you're standing in the middle of a mirror maze,
And every reflection is trying to tell you,
Who you are.

This mirror tells you that you're a loser.
And that one - that you're a bully.
And in that distant one you see a small, lonely child.

And you walk through this maze -
A delinquent, a traitor, a freak, a wannabe-singer -
And you forget yourself.

But remember that these are just echoes in the mirrors,
Echoes of who you were or could have been or never were.

Remember that somewhere ahead there is an exit from the maze,
Somewhere ahead there is a door,
And when you open it you will see your friends,
And they know who you really are when not distorted by crooked mirrors of your fears.

Chapter Text

"What are you doing?" Wolf had been writing in his notebook all day, oblivious to the goings-on in the classroom, and Hwangmo naturally became curious.

"Oh, crap!" Wolf closed his notebook (Hwangmo saw that there was more crossed out than written) and leaned back in his chair, clearly annoyed. "This is an assignment from my therapist. And it's pissing me off. I need to think of something I regret. More specifically, something I regret that involves other people. Like who I offended or something. Ideally, an apology message, too."

"And what's the problem? You don't know where to start?" Hwangmo could rattle off a 50-item list for Wolf without even thinking about it.

"The problem is," Wolf shrugged, "that I don't really regret anything."

"What, like nothing at all?" Hwangmo wasn't completely surprised (it was Wolf, after all), but still was. Kind of. A little. "Even about the Mamba incident?"

"Are you kidding me?" Wolf suddenly perked up. "It was fun as hell! It was Mamba's fight and I had the front seat!"

"Yeah, but it wasn't that fun for him..." Hwangmo had always known that Wolf was nuts. Well, everyone knew that.

"But in the end, everything was fine!" Wolf waved his hand dismissively. "I even helped him in some way. And I apologized!"

"If you apologized, does that mean you regret it?"

"Nope. I apologized so to have a reason to talk. Still no regrets."

Chapter Text

"I hate you!" Teddy exclaimed and pulled the door again, then pushed, then kicked. Two of these three actions, however, were completely pointless, since the door opened outward. Theoretically. In practice, it did not want to open at all.

"And why?" Gerard stretched out in the corner on an old sports mat and seemed to be getting ready for bed.

"Just because!" Teddy snapped. "I hate P.E. teacher, I hate badminton and I hate you."

Actually, if to think about it objectively, the P.E. teacher was the one to blame. It had been he who had decided that today had been a good day for badminton. And it had been he who hadn't checked that there had been enough rackets for everyone. And it had been he who had sent Teddy and Gerard to the far storeroom. Who was to blame for the fact that the door closed and didmd't want to open, Teddy didn't know. Probably the household guy. Or the one responsible for fire safety. Although most probably it was the same guy.

"That's not true." Gerard grinned from under all his hair and put his hands under his head. "You definitely don't hate me..."

"I do! And I have to see your disgusting mug all the time. In class, at work, and now I'm stuck with you here..." Teddy kicked the door again and then resolutely headed for the mat. "Move your ass, moron." He kicked Gerard in the shin (not hard, but it made him feel better) and plopped down next to him on the mat. "How long do you think we'll have to sit here?"

"Well..." Gerard moved toward the wall, giving Teddy more room. "The P.E. teacher might forget about us, but if we don't show up in two classes, they'll start looking for us. We still have our stuff in the classroom."

"Maybe we should shout? And somebody will hear us?" Teddy suggested hesitantly.

"Maybe. But for the sake of what? We could just sleep. Especially since we have a math test next period. And a legitimate reason not to be there." Gerard yawned and patted the mat next to him. "So stop hesitating and fidgeting. Lie down."

Teddy glanced back at Gerard, who had already closed his eyes and was starting to implement his 'just sleep' plan. On the one hand, it was weird lying like this. Not unpleasant or uncomfortable, just... weird. On the other hand, in this position, Gerard didn't have all of his seven feet hanging over Teddy (and Teddy knew Gerard wasn't seven feet tall, but from his own height, four or six inches didn't seem like much), and while playing badminton, this beanpole of a man would definitely start making jokes about their height difference... And math tests weren't one of Teddy's favorite activities either. So he sighed and stretched out on the mat next to Gerard.

"I hope you don't kick in your sleep," he muttered, closing his eyes.

Chapter Text

Teddy fished a third piece of paper out of the cap and placed it on the table with the first two.

"Well, that's simple." He said, thinking for a second or two. "I'll marry Gray, kiss Gerard, and kill Helmet."

"And why exactly?" Rowan asked.

"First of all, I don't think anyone needs an explanation about Helmet. Secondly, Gray will be successful, so marrying him is a good strategic decision. And a kiss left for Gerard."

"But Gerard can be successful too." Eugene joined in the discussion. "With his music, I mean."

"Yeah, that's the difference. Gerard can be successful, but Gray definitely will be."

"You have so little faith in me..." Gerard sighed exaggeratedly. "I am hurt."

"Don't be." Teddy threw a crumpled paper at Gerard, who dodged it. "I'm kind of risking my future marriage to a successful man by agreeing to kiss you. You should be flattered." Teddy threw the paper at Gerard again and missed again. "But guys, I have a question. I personally don't mind. Theoretically. But how come in six rounds there was only one girl name?"

"Because we don't know that many girls?" Rowan stated the obvious. "Like, we only know two?"

"Three! We also know Noona from the pool!" Ben interjected.

"Can we say that we really know her if no one knows her name?" Eugene doubted it.

"I know her name." Gray wasn't participating in 'Kiss, Marry, Kill' and was sitting with his nose in a book. Frankly, everyone was surprised that he was following their conversation.

"And I know." Gerard threw the paper back at Teddy (and hit). "I even know her phone number."

"Really?" Alex sounded amazed and a little envious.

"Really." Gerard nodded. "I asked as soon as I got my hair cut."

"You got your hair cut six months ago. Are you dating? Were you dating?" Gerard shook his head in response to Teddy's questions. "Then why did you even ask for it?"

"In case I want to talk to someone kind, polite, with a nice smile..." Gerard sounded dreamy, but his grin was completely inappropriate. "In short, to someone who is the complete opposite of you." With that, he leaned across the table and lightly flicked Teddy on the forehead, then leaned back with the same wide grin.
Teddy sat motionless and silent for a few seconds, and then half-hissed and half-growled like an angry cat.
"You know what? I've changed my mind. I'm going to kiss Helmet, and I'm going to kill that idiot. And right now."

Chapter Text

Sometimes Na Baekjin had bad days. Of course, everyone had bad days, but bad days of those who had survived the encounter with the truck were especially bad.

On those days, Na Baekjin wondered if he could spend the whole day in bed without getting up. And, in fact, the problem wasn’t getting up (that was the easy part), but what came after. Contrary to science and statistics, from the impact of the truck and the subsequent fall onto the asphalt his legs had been damaged the least , but... Six out of ten fingers on his hands had been broken. And the left radius, the right collarbone and the humerus. So Na Baekjin got back on his feet - literally - pretty quickly, but simple everyday activities were still unbearable on bad days.

"Try again." Na Baekjin muttered, looking at the jagged tracks of toothpaste on the floor. "Try again." He repeated, squeezing with shaking hands toothpaste onto the toothbrush resting on the edge of the sink. "Try again."

...

"Try again." Na Baekjin muttered through clenched teeth as he tried to fish the eggshells out of the frying pan (there seemed to be more of eggshell than eggs there).

...

"Try again. Try again... Try again! Fuck, I'm trying!" For some reason, not being able to tie his shoelaces was what pissed Na Baekjin off the most. Sure, Kwon Seokhyeon had bought a bunch of slip-on shoes to make his life easier during recovery period, but Na Baekjin liked his sneakers. But the laces pissed him off. "I'm fucking trying!" Na Baekjin growled, grabbing a yellow square post-it from the shoe rack and crumpling it. He wanted to crumple, smash, and destroy everything around him, but the only thing he could do was crumple the damn piece of paper.

For the first time in years, he wanted to cry. He clenched his teeth and looked away from the sneakers and the hand holding the piece of paper to the mirror. There were also several post-its of different colors hanging on it.

This was just a small part of all post-its in Na Baekjin's apartment. They were everywhere. In the bathroom, in the bedroom, on the refrigerator, in the refrigerator, on the bookshelves... Most of them had been written by Kwon Seokhyeon and Yeon Sieun, but there were a few written in Ji Hakho's terrible and almost illegible handwriting, and Pak Humin's almost equally illegible handwriting, and Lee Sehan's suddenly very calligraphic handwriting... It seemed like there was even one note from Keum Seongje (and Na Baekjin had no idea who and how had convinced him to do that). All in all, there were dozens (if not hundreds) of notes, and all of them had just two words: 'Try again'. 

Na Baekjin took a few deep breaths, then carefully straightened out the crumpled square of paper and stuck it back on the shoe rack. It didn't hold up well, but it could be replaced later, and for now he just needed to try again.

Chapter Text

The impact of the truck sent him flying upwards, sending a wave of unbearable pain through his entire body. Then he hit the cab roof. He wanted to scream, but the cry got stuck in the blood that was filling his mouth and lungs. Pictures of his life flashed before his eyes, dark and bleak. Then, suddenly, he saw himself and Mamba. They were in a classroom smiling at each other like good friends. For a moment Na Baekjin felt a regret that this wasn't destined to happen. And then the darkness came.

But it wasn't the peaceful darkness of nothingness. At least, not quite. On the one hand, Na Baekjin seemed to be conscious. He could think and clearly remembered everything that had happened. On the other hand, he didn't feel any pain. It was as if everything bodily had remained there, on the pavement, and here was only the mind (or soul? Na Baekjin wasn't sure).

After a few minutes (or hours? Na Baekjin wasn't sure about that either), the darkness ceased to be absolute. Faint flashes and blazes began to appear here and there. The space was shimmering and sparkling, and this sight was mesmerizing, and Na Baekjin allowed himself to simply watch for a while. He had never had time to just contemplate in his life, and now it was pleasant to stop, to freeze in time and space (or timelessness and spacelessness?) and just be. Or not to be? The sensations were strange, unlike anything else, and Na Baekjin couldn't decide on his own status. Was this a true nothingness? An afterlife? A purgatory? Was he destined to spend eternity among this unearthly shimmer, or was it just a stopover on the way... To where exactly? To hell? To the next life? To nothing?

Suddenly, somewhere to the left (or to the side that Na Baekjin identified as 'left' for convinience) a light poured out. Na Baekjin turned around and saw a white glow, as if coming from a tunnel. Apparently, the descriptions of the near-death experience were not lying.

Should he go to the light? Although, the alternative was to hang in the shimmering nothingness, and Na Baekjin always preferred to act, so he turned around and swam towards the light.

It seemed like he was getting closer to it and not at the same time. It seemed like if he just stretched out his hand and...

"Na Baekjin!" A voice full of despair sounded from behind him.

Na Baekjin turned around abruptly, but behind him was the same shimmering emptiness.

"Na Baekjin!" It was Mamba's voice, Na Baekjin recognized it now. "Na Baekjin, hold on. The ambulance is on its way. Just hold on for a little while longer."

Na Baekjin froze in indecision. On one hand, he had already accepted his fate, and the light was beckoning him, but on the other... He never thought that anyone other than Kwon Seokhyeon could worry about him. There was absolutely no reason for Mamba to sound so desperate, so heartbroken. Maybe there was no Mamba, and Na Baekjin's subconscious was simply passing off wishful thinking as reality.

"Na Baekjin." The voice was muffled now, as if through suppressed crying.

Na Baekjin turned to the light once more. Should he believe in the comforting illusion and follow the voice?

"Na Baekjin, the ambulance is already here. Just hold on..."

What does he have to lose? If this was a cruel joke of his subconscious (or some higher power), then nothing would change. But what if it was true? If there, on the road, Yeon Sieun really was mourning him and asking him to live? And would his afterlife be an eternity full of regrets if he chooses the light? Was there a chance for them to become friends if he clinged to this voice now, like to a guiding thread?

Na Baekjin took one last look at the glowing tunnel and then dashed in the opposite direction. With nothing to guide him visually, he could only hope that Yeon Sieun would continue to talk to him...

"How long has he been unconscious?" Another voice sounded muffled and distant.

"15 minutes, maybe a little more." Yeon Sieun's voice sounded near and clear. "Which hospital are they taking him to?"

"Hallym University Hospital. But you can come with..."

And then everything collapsed. There was no more shimmer and shine, no more feeling of lightness and timelessness. For a few seconds there was nothing, and then Na Baekjin felt the pain. It was tearing him apart from the inside, pulsing in time with the beeping of the medical equipment. The pain was almost all-consuming, and yet in this agony Na Baekjin very clearly felt someone squeezing his hand. And he knew who it was.

"Na Baekjin," Yeon Sieun's voice was quiet, but no longer despairing, "hold on. Everything will be okay."

And even if these were still hallucinations before the death, Na Baekjin allowed himself to believe. Yes, everything would be okay. And eternity could wait.