Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

König could see his breath in the air, it was exhilarating, the cold. He hadn't felt this way in such a long time, it reminded him of his home, where he came from. But König had to focus, to pay attention.
No matter how amazing, or freezing he felt. There were hostages König needed to find. In a failed hostage rescue mission he was assigned with around 29 other operators, sargets, so on and so forth. He could feel the snow crunch under his boots, it was light and breezy. The evening was going quickly and they needed to act fast.

But he couldn't find any of them, any of them, they had tried to rendezvous around the back of the building, he was the only one who came out on the other side. Sure, he could have waited, and sure it would have been a better idea. But the adrenaline rush he got from the time limit they had was too intense, he had to be important.

He had to work. So he went on without them, like a moth baited to a flame. Although in this case that flame would be the feeling of war and the calling of violence. It fueled him, walking then running then he had made it in a fraction of the time. A tall, brick building guarded by Russians. All of which armed, König had ripped through all of them like a chainsaw. He was pure brute force with a brain. 32 different soldiers he had fought, whether in groups or one at a time, he still pushed through. Like a raging bull.

But of course, in his adrenaline rush he forgot to not terrify the hostages. Clearing the building, he was covered in blood. It smelled like metal, and the dripping that was heard around the echoey hallways was unsettling. As the crimson poured from him, both his blood and others.

The hostages, who were already cowering in the corner from the blood curdling screams they had heard outside their containment cell. Around the corner, the lump of ratchet smelling, blood dripping, human being who held its ground. Breath heavy with exhaustion, you could see the steam coming off of him.

“You are all alive ja? I'm König, i was sent here to rescue you. If you all could follow me that would be-” opening the door, he muttered all this under his breath. Unsure if they could hear him, he tried again.
“I am König, I Am Here To Rescue You” he only got louder, bellowing through the halls, if there was anyone actually still in the building or outside of it, they would be able to hear him loud and clear. All flinched, all were afraid. Who wouldn't be? König walked further into the room, trying to get closer to explain one more time why he was here like they couldn't see his presence.
One of them dashed out of the room, and with him came more and more, König couldn't stop them. Like an avalanche, they all pushed there way out of the cell. panicking, not able to pick out anyone from the crowd. “Wait, no, you don't want to-”
And they were gone, out of the building probably. Faster and farther away from “the thing” they just saw, witnessed.
“Scheiße….” König mumbled to himself again, rolling himself into a hunch, trying to be unseen.

“Why must we always play cat and mouse” and with that, he walked out the door again. and found his way back through the building. He looked annoyed, pained even. König had experienced this when he was younger too, people seemed to only be afraid. Never getting too close to him, even his own parents struggled to get close to him. Trudging outside again, he felt the cold wind hit his face. It had picked up since he had been inside, taking care of the Russians trying to stop him. The snow had picked up, it had gotten colder and the day was fading fast.

No matter how cold it was outside, it was quite beautiful. There was a range of colors in the sky, one side, closer to the sun. had oranges, yellows and pinks. Warm colors that made excitement happen when they hit your face. But on the other side, it faded into deep blues and purples.

The city, or town rather, was large. With tall buildings, lots of places to hide but there were no radio towers, there was no way they could have gone far. Hostages were always predictable to him, they were easy to follow and easy to understand.
Terrified of being killed, terrified of escaping just to be captured again, so often times they hid around the area when they ran from him. König picked up his radio and tried “This is König, anyone copy?” …silence, no answer, he tried again “this is König, i have found the hostages…Anybody copy?”

Again still nothing, A heavy sigh was heard. He was losing the adrenaline and fast, he wanted to go back to base, go take a shower, go to bed, maybe even eat something. But no, he has to go and find all of the hostages that thought it would be better to run and hide than get help. The distance he had walked was tiring, he had found no one and seen no one. His muscle were starting to tense up. It had gotten colder and he hadn’t noticed.
It had felt as if he was going in circles, never finding anyone.
Slowly his hope and faith started to dissipate. König got like this once in a while, when he messed things up. He always felt as if he NEEDED to be useful, if he wasn't, then he should find something to do or…or…

König didn't know what to do, he tried the radio a couple of times. Nothing. No one picking up, no one around. He was alone, again. It always ended like this didn't it? Him alone because of something he had done, that is what he thought at least, that he was the problem. Maybe he shouldn't have left the group, maybe he should have waited. Maybe he should have had more control….it was getting colder the longer he waited, the longer he stood there and pondered why he did all of the things he did. The beautiful oranges and yellows of the sky were leaving and the deep purples were taking over. He could feel his teeth chattering and his bones shaking. “I should get out of the cold”

No thought behind it, merely an automated response instilled into him from being in such adverse weather, he needed to know what to do to survive. Slowly, he made his way over to a building. Finding it locked, he smashed the window to the door and crawled inside. Looking around, it looked like it was a bakery of some sort, or maybe a cafe. Whatever it was, it was abandoned now. No one was here, just him. Some of the wood was soiled and it smelled like black mold, it was cramped in here. It felt like there was no where to go, König could probably take 6 steps and be on the other side of the room.

Heat rises, König knows that. Finding the top of the building could be difficult however, and it was proving difficult. König’s eyes were bad, usually one base he either had contacts in. or he tried to find his old glasses. But today, he had neither of them at the time. This was making it even harder to find the stairs, maybe they were around back? He had no want to go back outside and be in the cold. Or maybe it was a ladder outside. Low and behold it was in the corner, the stairs were steep, even for him. He had to raise his foot 3 feet off the ground to get to the first step, it would be more efficient to just climb.

König's teeth chattered, the cold was starting to get to him. No matter what climate you are from, the Russian cold is no joke. And he could attest to this. Finally, reaching the top of the building he saw what he could only guess was a storage unit and a heater, far out of commission though. It looked like it hadn’t been touched in years, rust and grime stuck to it like a leech.

There were windows that had the vast view above town, it was beautiful. Russia is cold, yes, and Russia does have brutalism. But the town that they showed up to had a melancholic feeling to it, almost nostalgic for König, almost. There were rations up here as well, stacks and stacks of canned foods and grains. All old of course but if König didn’t see anyone for a while it would be a good place to find food and water, maybe food. Water was a different story.

“König come in, how copy?”

He had been thinking too hard, not paying attention to his surroundings like he should have been. Again “König? Come in, how copy?” this time, König answered. “Good copy, location?” he had had enough of this, he wanted to find the hostages and get out. “Hostages in our sights, green building, no cords” green building? He was just in a building, “green” doesn't really help describe what or where he needs to go. crawling up to a window, he looked out. Seeing no one, again. But there was a green building, decorated with red stripes down its side. “Copy, visual on target” he quickly made his way down the stairs, nearly falling in the process, and peaked out of the window he had broken earlier, there was glass in his glove…he could worry about that later. But slowly, he heard footsteps. They began to get louder and louder, they were coordinated, thought out. They were precise, to marching. And they got crunchier the closer they got, the snow crushed under them.

The snow level had changed from just being a light blanket over the earth, to it nearly coming up to König’s heels. And there was only a couple specs left of the sunlight he once cherished.

König got back into the building more, trying to hide in the shadows. They were Russians, making their way down what he could only guess was a street. König was a horse in Troy, a bullet embedded but not able to be pushed out. And he truly wanted out.

He murmured something under his breath again and skittered to the door. Slumping over, he looked out the window at more of an angle now, trying to get a better vantage point on all of them; there were maybe 15 to 16 in his sights. He still had his gun, he tried not to use it in the brick building earlier, just to save ammo in case something like this. He hadn’t bothered to ask the rest of his unit how many of them were alive. But finally, all of them had walked by, gun in hand. They could have been searching for the hostages that he had “freed” although he wouldn't consider that the word that König would use, maybe “terrified into escape” would be a better, more accurate description.

König tiptoed quietly behind them, for such a massive man you’d think he'd make lots of noise. But no, König was quiet, like a mouse. It was surprising for him to talk even at base, he tried to not interact with people if he has the chance at base, often times skipping meals or taking them to his room if he really needs to, he finds different times to go to the gym, get food, from the kitchen and so on and so forth. He was good at being quiet. They were predictable, most people usually are. But especially soldiers, König could guess what their orders were and where they were going. Marching around like that, it was easy to tell.

What was not easy to tell was when one of them decided to turn around, apparently he found it a good time to check behind them, rightfully so. But dread filled König's eyes, he made eye-contact with the man. He was hunched over, it was almost funny how small he had tried to make himself.

But of course, no matter how hunched over König could be, he still stuck out like a sore thumb. A sore thumb that was hanging on with blood, sweat, and tears. “König, how copy? Visual on target?” his radio spat up, clumped words of gibberish only he seemed to understand, but the eyes he felt on him. Just a thing to be seen, to be looked at and gawked over. Before König could react, one of them shouted something. His Russian was rusty, König had visited Russia with his family many times, why couldn't they? Sure it could be a little dangerous but it was only a couple of hours away really. He pondered if he could rush through them like he did the last unit he barreled through. But that didn't really seem the case, sure there were less of them, and sure König could have done it before. But it started to weigh on him how cold he was. How much his body ached and how much he craved to go back to base, get a glass of water. Wash the day off of his rough skin and enjoy some food, maybe even some rest and social time.

König had endured a lot these past few days, but that didn't mean he was going to waste it all on these last few. Give it his all on a last whim, no, that was not how König did things. He put time and effort into things, especially his missions. No, he would not die, he could not. Not this time, he could, no, would win this fight.

And so it began

After the spur of adrenaline reached his brain, he crashed into the man that had first looked behind him and his team, screaming and talking in Russian, most of which König didn't understand. He took to his right, his dominant side. And attacked 3 different soldiers at the same time, continuing his first attempt of brute forcing his way through everyone. And this was working, surprisingly. Not a death-threatening crack or bruise on him yet and he only had a dozen or so more to go. This could be done.

As he had done time and time again, survived. König was a survivor, he had the drive for it, never to stop or slow down in times of need. But they didn't go down without a fight, and a fight they all put up. Sure he had taken out a couple by the time most of them had actually thought that there was an enemy stalking them quietly walking 3 paces behind. But that didn't mean that they were too stunned to fight, broken ribs were a possibility. Along with many bruised bones and maybe some internal bleeding, all of which could be fixed.

“König, HOW COPY?” that radio again, had he been called? Couldn't tell, there was so much happening he never thought about reaching back out to the rest of his team. “Copy, more Russians dead.”
he could only imagine how he looked, soaked in blood. It dripped from his as if he had been wounded, like a dying dog. But no, only minor cuts he had been giving in that fight.

And just like that his adrenaline left him again, and he slouched. It was like his pride left him, as if it left with every slowed breath he took, in and out. “Location?” simple question, but everyone in his unit had no idea how this climate worked, or they had never traversed anything like this before. “Extraction” a voice murmured from the radio, extraction? Really?

“You have the hostages in your possession?” König began to sweat, his eyes even ached. The cold only made it worse, like waking up from a bad dream and being in a cold sweat. Scorched by the idea of being, but forced to be.

“Yes, pick up in 20:15, do not be late” the next voice was stern, maybe König had done his job wrong. Being “let go” or “forced to resign” from the military was something König feared the most. He was good at this, he could do this. Right? “Copy” off he began trekking through the freezing cold again, blood dripping into the snow. It was almost beautiful the patterns it made, but slowly the blood began to stop dripping. Staining his cloths, the pachy spots.

He slowed down again, over the span of two hours König had tested if he could do it time and time again, people, ideas, things. As he made his way through the snow, he could see where he had entered this ratchet place, he really did want to just go home. Picking up the pace he started to speed walk again, trying to reach it faster. Exhaustion was starting to catch up with him, his arms started hanging by his sides more, his legs felt like jello. It was like he was walking on air if air could weigh him down. The eyes in his sockets started to close, they felt heavy, like lead.

Finally, he made it. It felt like he had been walking for hours, he really hadn't been. It had been maybe 45 minutes, but he was cold and soaked in blood. He could see his comrades resting, there were less of them now. There were only 6 of them left, there were 30 when they came in how did we mess up this bad? “What happened?” König made his way over to the man that seemed to be leading this group. “How did we mess up so badly? Is everyone else dead?” König loomed over them, most people in his faction were generally tall besides recruits and your usual sergeant.

However, he was still around a foot taller than everyone in this unit.
“We don’t know sir, they came out of nowhere.” he looked at his troops, he really should have stayed with them, it would have been better for everyone and they wouldn’t have lost as many men. He would get a write up for this, but they’d never get rid of him, not like this. That he knew, he knew he was too important to them, a vital piece in the puzzle.

“You said they would be here soon, ja?” his accent really came through at times, at base he tried to hide it. But when on a mission, no he was the loud Austrian man his father was. He looked away from the man only for a second to look over his men, they were bruised and bloody.

The man only nodded at him, he looked nervous. Like there was sweat dripping from his eyes, as if his palms were sweaty under his gloves. König often made people nervous, his size undoubtedly scary. But the way he carried himself in times of need or want was even scarier.
And so, they waited. The cold only got more intense, sure most of them huddled together, but König did not enjoy when he touched people. He had a certain dislike for it, regular people at least. It felt too personal, like they could see him or see through him. And that was not a feeling he enjoyed, although. Certain times called for different types of König, if he was on a mission or in battle he would be the confident, prideful man he needed to be. But at base, no, he tried to be just another man, maybe that was his ego talking, his pride.
Or maybe it was just how he was, how he tried to exist. Emphasis on tried, when you are built like a brick wall it’s not hard to “try” to exist.

Chapter Text

It was merely another morning for Horangi, the nice cool air on the few parts of his skin he had exposed. Some tea, and his blanket. It was some peace in the havoc that he lived in, it was like his morning ritual. His room was small but it was secluded. And, at times, he enjoyed being by himself, not having to deal with the recruits, operators, other people in the morning.

Horangi was not a morning person, he was quite the night owl. He enjoyed staying up late into the morning, that would often come back and bite him in the ass though. He had to get up early for breakfest or for his morning run and would regret doing it most of the time. Even with that, he continued to wake up at these ungodly times after going to bed only a couple of hours before, maybe it made him feel alive. Like his life before, his horrible life before.

Stepping out of bed, his messy raven hair fell to his eyebrows. He’d need to cut it soon, he liked his hair a shorter length most of the time, and it was getting too long for his liking.

Pacing his way to the bathroom, he made sure not to look at himself in the mirror. Horangi tried his very best to not look at himself in any reflection, or pictures. Horangi had horrible scars lining his face, they reached the entire left side of his face. They flashed his canines and his molars at a certain angle if you looked at it right. Scared tissue and burn marks ripped through his face, he was handsome. His mother, no matter how often he felt unloved by her, said he was blessed by the moon. He looked nothing of his mother, he was all of his father. His mother was beautiful like the sun even for her dark hair and brown eyes. She was never the moon, no. His father on the other hand was as dark as the night, eyes looked soulless and devoid of life. But he was a good man. Was…

Horangi had made his way to the hallway and figured it would be the best time to go and eat, there wasnt going to be anyone in the kitchen at this hour. At least, there usually wasnt anyone. Sometimes he would see a friend of his that would come around in the early mornings as well. Only once in a while though, and that friend was off doing a mission.

This morning, Horangi was craving meat. The Korean had a leaner build than a lot of his commerads. Sure, he was still lot’s of muscle. But instead of someone like Velikan or Nikto, he had more lean muscle. Better at running and diving, more flexible. Horangi was good at running in his own right, he prided himself in his workout routines and his pace. When Horangi was younger he could pace himself as much as he wanted, running for miles without slowing down. He enjoyed running. But of course, he still had to eat meat. He enjoyed the taste of meat most of the time, or at least how his mother used to make it.

But the food he loved the most was bulgogi, god he could eat that for hours. Sliced, chopped, with rice. Especially when his grandmother made it, from his fathers side. She was a frail old woman who enjoyed cooking for their family. Before she died, she made lots of food for Horangi. Those were good times.

Checking the fridge led to a whole lot of nothing, however, on base if Horangi wanted something he’d have to order it himself. “Damn” was the only statement he had, so he got out his rice cooker and made some rice. No meat, no options for protein besides egg. He was a soldier, he was used to eating the same thing every day of his life. But it still got exhausting eating the same thing, it weighed on his mind all the time. Eating different items was something that he enjoyed, when he lived in korea that was what he was used to.

But no, not here. Here everyone usually ate the same thing, unless you were special enough to go out and eat, or order your own food. Horangi did that once in a while, special order his own food. When he wanted to feel nostalgic.

He watched as the timer on the rice cooker slowly went down, he was still tired. And he'd have to go for his morning run after this, maybe that could wake him up. He fished his phone out of his pocket and browsed the new’s. It was usually better he didn't do this, he had strong opinions and wanted them to be heard. But sometimes he still wanted to know what was going on in the world. Suddenly, footsteps were heard outside of the kitchen. And lots of them, people were rushing somewhere, why? Listening closely, he could hear murmuring from outside the hallway. Something about…Russia and…he couldn't make it out.

“What's going on out here?” Horangi barked at the soldiers in the hallway, he was givin blank stares in return before one of them spoke up

“The hostage unit, sir, they've come back from their mission” what was so important about a hostage unit coming back? Missions happen all the time and people never cause a fuss over it.

Horangi was menacing when questioning, his deeper voice did help with that. But he wasn't tiny, especially for a Korean, in Korea he towered over many. His height may be a measly 6’1 compared to others on base. But he was still a good size, you could really see this when he talked to recruits (who were oftentimes not very tall) he towered over them. That mixed with his hidden face and tattoos, he was a scary looking man.

He walked over to the man that had spoken and barked again
“What is so important about THIS mission?”
Horangi was naturally a loud human, he didn't try to be. It came out all the time, like a dragon awakened from its slumber he screamed, barked, bellowed. He always felt bad after he screamed at the recruits, always thinking he could have put things differently.

“Well, what we have been told, is that we lost around a dozen or more men in a fight. And that the captain had fought 20-40 Russians all at once!” the captain? Who did they send on that mission…?

König

That’s right, that makes more sense as to why everyone is so amazed. Because it's König that led that mission, people on base were infatuated with that man. His sheer size confused them, he could command a room with a singular movement. Horangi enjoyed the man himself, he was quiet (most of the time) and enjoyed making tea in the morning, a different type of tea. It always smelled of lavender. He was, however, not a very good cook.

Anyway, he had to see this himself as well. He knew König was strong. He had remembered hearing once upon a time that König had taken down an entire human trafficking warehouse in berlin.

He didn’t know how true it was, the nights everyone went out König stayed in. They always invited him but he never came with them. Infact, Horangi didn’t remember the last time that König and He had an efficient conversation. Horangi gazed at the door everyone was leaving from, the recruit that was talking to him had left long ago. Rightfully so, Horangi hadn’t said anything. He merely stared blankly at the wall. More murmuring could be heard from outside, it could be considered talking. They were getting louder, slowly, of course.

“Alright, settle down. Let's remember that they have all had a long and cold ride home. Lets be respectful and quiet” Horangi had snuck outside, being their superior, they listened. Some of them sat down and waited for the unit to show up, others left, some waited at attention.

“It's too early for this” Horangi removed his glasses and looked at the sunrise, it really was too early for a special unit to be coming back, they were not early in the sense that they had done it fast, no. The unit was late, but it was around 7 in the morning. And lets recall that SOMEONE doesn't like to be awake in the early hours of the morning.

Here they were, they had walked off the aircraft and into the debriefing hallway. König had merely nodded at everyone when he got off, but they swarmed him with questions. Overwhelmed, he froze. It seemed that the recruits had forgotten everything that Horangi had said to them. “What did I just say?” he bellowed out again.
“Do we all need to be reminded of our training? Maybe go for a lovely run with yours truly?”

Now that scared them, most knew of his endurance. But they also knew that he had a unit of his own that he helped command and that, he alone, was not fun to piss off.

“No sir” most of them said this all at once. Most of them left, trying to not get the punishment they technically deserved for not following a superior's orders. Some stayed, some merely backed away from the man that was just trying to get to debfriening, or medbay. He seemed nervous, he seemed exhausted. König looked tired, he looked like he yearned for a bed and a cup of coffee. Covered in blood, he reeked, reeked of death and cigars. He looked pleasantly at Horangi, a thank you in his eyes but no words coming out. He looked…pitiful, like this was the first mission he had ever been on and that he had seen horror’s beyond human comprehension.

“danke schon” was the only thing Horangi heard before the brick wall of a man left, no other words said. He’d heard him say that before, many times. Maybe it was gratitude, maybe it was thank you? When he often spoke in a language people couldn’t understand, Horangi understood why.

“Alright, we don’t need to be waiting around for anything now do we? There were other people in that unit, go and talk to them or carry on with your day." With that, everyone left. Whether to go back to their regular duties, or go and talk to the unit that just experienced winter in Russia. He couldn’t control all of them…well, he could, but he really didn’t want to. Besides, he had rice to go and eat. And at this point he was ravenous.

He was still quite upset, he really wanted something besides rice this morning. But there was nothing else for him to eat, maybe tomorrow he could spend the money and buy something worth eating.

The kitchen was full when he got back, stacks and stacks of people that were all hungry, or tired. Or maybe they were all of the above. Horangi understood being exhausted after a mission, oftentimes Horangi was put at a post and told to sit there. Or, on the other hand, he helped gather data for KorTac. He really was quite the spy when he wanted to be, the mask he could put on and take off at will helped with that. He could go from just a regular man with some pretty nasty facial scars, to a man who had killed many. But still, he couldn’t get to his rice-cooker. Not without plowing through everybody else to get through it, and he had no interest in touching anyone right now.

Instead, he just left it on “keep warm”. They would eventually leave and he could go and get his rice, no matter how hungry he was now. Speaking of things that he needed, Horangi needed to go to medbay. He needed his pain meds and burn cream, every week he’d buy some. He wasn’t necessarily addicted to the pain meds, they did help with his back. It was the burn cream he really needed.

The scar that reaches across his face into a disturbing grin needed to be properly taken care of, if it wasn’t it could re-open or tear further.

Quickly, he walked to medbay. Everyone would be there now, after a mission people crowded there. And then went to debriefing if their injuries weren't life-threatening. Horangi didn't mind being around all of them, it was busy in medbay. It always was after a mission, but it was always so quiet. Everybody is so very tired, they all want to get out of medbay, go eat, and then maybe go to bed. Nurses were running around trying to find equipment and more help, doctors bringing people in and out of rooms. It really was chaotic, but it was quiet and that was all Horangi cared about.

He found the pharmacist counter, gave them his order number and waited.
“Hello” was heard from behind him, a quiet voice squeaked in the hallway, Horangi had whipped around and there he was. The man of the hour, the person everyone was talking about.

König
“Hello, can I help you?” he had still not put back on his glasses, he felt naked. Like people could truly see him, especially with the part of his scar that crossed his eye visible
“I was sent here to get…uhm” he looked like he was searching for words, but, he never took his eyes off of Horangi’s. But the silence was killing Horangi all of the sudden, why was he struggling so hard? I mean, English was his second language too but…he didn’t think this hard.

“Pain killers?” His eyes gleamed
“Ja, those. But the doctor didn't tell me where to get them from.” he picked at his hands, his hands that were usually covered in gloves and that were currently visible. He picked at his nailbed, peeling off some of the skin that had dried or was scabbing over.

“Did he give you a piece of paper?”
“Oh, yes, here.”
König held out his hand with the piece of paper that had been given to him. It looked miniscule in his hands. It layed flat in the bed of his palm, face up with a doctors note on it. 2 years of medical school and Horangi still had no idea what it said.

“...okay, just wait here with me and the woman that was helping me should be back soon”

It was odd, König didn't talk all that often. So why was he talking now? Why did he have interest now? Maybe he just needed help, that was probably it. They were standing next to each other now, shoulder to shoulder. König still smelled like blood, but there was also gun smoke, and just a hint of the ocean. It wasn't un often that Horangi helped people out on base, he enjoyed helping. But this was just odd, König didn’t talk to people….right?

“So how did the mission go? I've heard rumors.” Horangi attempted to make small talk, he was usually good at it after all.
“Erm, it could have gone better.”
“Really? Why’s that?”

He had turned to König now, facing him. Or trying at least, his 6’10 put Horangi to shame when it came to sheer size.

“Well, we had lost a couple of lives. And i definitely could have thought it out better. We also had more Russians guarding the hostages than i initially thought”
“Hm” Horangi hummed in acknowledgment
“I think the ride home might have been the hardest part for me though…”
“Why so?”
“Too many people, too cramped of a space. It was still freezing cold, and i was soaking wet and i still am”

Another hum of acknowledgement came from him, he understood not wanting to be around that many people at one time. And Horangi did not like the cold, he really could understand why König didn’t have the best time coming home.

“You know, I heard that you took down a couple 40 Russians while you were there. Is that true?”
Horangi had turned fully around, taking a full 180 from how he was originally standing. Now facing the opposite direction of the desk he was waiting for his prescription. He could see the door to the pitch black morning, the stars painted on like little specks of light in a big vast sky.

“Ah, rumors spread fast.”
“Is it true though? Did you really do that?” Horangi turned his head to meet Königs, keeping his body looking out the door.

König looked nervous again, like he didn’t know what to say. Or rather, he looked like he’d say the wrong thing and then regret it. He began to pick at his hands again, this time harder. He had made himself bleed, crimson blood poured from his nail bed. His hands must have hurt, as he did that often and then handled machinery that must make his fingers hurt. Maybe he put bandages on them after, Horangi just knew that it had to hurt.

“Don’t do that, you don’t have to answer. It’s okay, we don’t have to talk about it.” Horangi slowly lowered König’s hands back down to his side, stopping him from picking.
“You know, you really shouldn’t do that. Your finger could get infected.”

Horangi was met with eyes with heavy eyelids looking at him, grey blue sat in the irises around the black pupils that gazed back at him. Sunken sockets and eye black, and those eyes. The blue was so dull, was he listening to him? It didn't seem like it, it seemed like the man was absorbing what he was saying but…not applying it. Rightfully so, he was a grown man. He had no reason to listen to Horangi, he could do what he wanted. But he still looked at him intently, like Horangi was going to say more. Like he was there for the conversation.

“What else?”
What does he mean? What else?
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, what else would it do to me? Besides, give me an infection?”

Is he really asking for advice…Horangi was puzzled, this man truly had never talked to him besides now. Why was he engaging?

“You could lose a finger, or a nail, or you could be sent to the infirmary and not be able to work. Lots could happen.”
König began to laugh, a chuckle, it was not a loud sound. But his eyes lit up, like a supernova. Horangi could see the smallest outline of two crow’s feet around his eyes even under all that eye black. König faced the same direction as Horangi now, both of them looked out the door but König was too busy laughing.

“What's so funny?” Horangi turned and pointed a finger at him, he was starting to get annoyed with this man’s attitude.
“Nothing it’s just, it's funny that you seem so knowledgeable about my finger.” König turned to look at him and copied the action Horangi had done earlier, slowly putting the man’s finger down. He looked into the black of his eyes. Unlike König, Horangi had brown, almost black eyes. He was horrible in the dark, couldn't see a damn thing. He really wished he could, given the title Horangi it was kinda assumed that the man nicknamed “tiger” would be decent at seeing in dark spaces.
But no, he could not.
“Wow, your eyes are almost black.” König beamed at him, he was closer now. Almost face to face with the man.
“Yes, i was given black eyes 백업” Horangi rolled his eyes at König and turned back towards the counter, he tapped the table anxiously.
“And they aren't black, they are brown” Horangi side-eyed König as he picked up the medication and burn cream the nurse brought back to him.

“Right, yes, I am sorry. I didn't mean anything by it.” He looked away embarrassed, his red face hidden behind the ratty old t-shirt he wore around his face. König began picking at his fingers again, looking down at the floor.

Guilt flooded Horangi, it was like a tsunami as it engulfed him. It was cold, he was cold. He felt it rise to his neck as he struggled to breath, his brows furrowed and he put a hand on König’s shoulder. “It is alright, you didn't mean anything by it. I just reacted. Have a good day König.”

“Uh yes, you too…erm Horangi.” König gave Horangi a polite smile and held his hands in front of himself. He gave Kim a nice smile, hidden by the t-shirt around his face of course. Horangi smiled with his eyes and pat him on the chest as he went back to his room.

It was beautiful outside, the black sky started to turn orange where the sun had started to rise. The light bounced off of Horangi’s eyes as they glowed a light brown with just the smallest hint of green. The grass had small little dew drops, and it smelled humid. He could see the sun color the small little droplets on each leaf of a tree nearby. If he took his shoes off, he would be able to feel every blade of grass. It was a nice morning, no matter how much Horangi hated mornings.

The kitchen was not as packed as it was when he was first there, only Velikan remained. He wore his helmet around base, just like Horangi did. It was almost a biker helmet, it had red tusks painted on the bottom of it. He was usually a quiet man, talking to the other operators in shadow company that stayed on base here. But besides that he was good at keeping to himself, however right now he was in Horangi’s rice and eggs. Horangi sat in the doorway, bag in hand. He didnt really know how to address him without sounding like an ass. Horangi could be demanding yes, and he was pushed over the edge this morning. That didn’t stop him from trying to be a decent person to the people that were also stuck at base.

“Velikan, that is my food” Horangi had moved up to the table in the middle of the room
“It is? I am sorry” He had a bowl of it in hand, and chopsticks in the other. “I thought it was up for grabs.” setting the bowl down he started to separate each the rice back into the bowl he had put it all into. He…he had steak.

“You dont have to do that, where did you get…the steak from?” Horangi slowly made his way up to the counter and pointed out the steak that had been chopped into small slices and layed out in in frying pan.

“ I pre-order it, my family owns a farm and they always send me some.” he made a house gesture and, from what Horangi was guessing, stared at him from inside the mask. Turning his head slowly, he lifted his glasses back up to his face.

“Can i have some? With my rice i mean?” Horangi began to salivate, the idea of not eating just some egg and rice was exhilarating and embarrassing.

“Sure….can i have some of the rice?” Horangi could see through his mask now, green eyes stared out of two sunken sockets. It was a rarity this man talked, so Horangi enjoyed the conversation.

“Of course, sit and eat with me.”

He gestured to the table and nodded his head a couple of time. Signifying that he was willing to have company. Velikan's eyes lit up, Kim could see that through the mask that he wore. Velikan happily pulled out a chair and sat down, his leg bounced in either excitement or nervousness. Glances were passed, Velikan didnt think HOW he would eat. Would he feed it through the bottom part of his mask? Would he take off the mask? Taking off his mask didn’t seem like something he wanted to do at all. Neither him nor Horangi wanted to take off their masks.

“You know, i didnt think this through very well.” Horangi rubbed the back of his neck and smiled, a light red spread across his face. At first, they both stared at each other.

But slowly, velikan got up and left. Nothing said, he just left. Horangi hit his head against the table in anguish, his scars made everything hard. It was difficult to talk with people, he couldn't show his face without feeling like they are looking at them. It is a constant reminder of how he has fucked up his past, his life. The scar is a knife embedded into his skin, burns and tears unlike any other. He looked at the bag in his hand, and then back to the food on the table. Maybe eating in his room could be a better idea…

There was a knock at the door, a very heavy one. He was mid scoop of rice, how was he supposed to answer the door now? A very muffled “in a minute” was heard from him as he quickly set down the rice and put on his mask. No time for glasses if it was something urgent. Rushing over to the door, he looked in the mirror by it to see if all of his face was covered. He looked fine, this was all fine…right?

“There’d better be a good reason you ar-” A giant stood before him, it was König…again. This time, he had brought him a paper bag. It had his initials on it, not Horangi but K.H.
“Whats that?” König held out the bag, limp wrist and all.
“I found it in the kitchen, it has your initials on it right? I remember you carrying it out of the infirmary…” König picked at the rim of the bag nervously, his eyes darted around like they were looking for something

“Oh, yes, that is mine. Thank you König, i must have forgotten it in there when i was grabbing my food.” Horangi grabbed the bag hastily from him, he had no intention of letting König see what was inside. Unless he had already done so, that was a possibility too. König's eyes still darted around, erratic as ever. “You haven't looked into it, right?”

Horangi crossed his legs and leaned against the doorway, his glasses were still on the table in his room. Dark eyes stared at König, he looked almost annoyed. König picked at his hands, this time gloved. He started unweaving the fabric and stitching that held them together, König must have had them for a long time and picked at the same spot. There was noticeable wear and tare around the spots he was constantly picking at. König only shook his head, maybe he really hadn’t looked in the bag. That would be a long unfortunate story Horangi would to avoid explaining to the man. He’d rather not talk about his past right now, especially not with him.

“Thank you, i don't know how to re-pay you.” He sat up again, no longer leaning against the wall.
He dropped the bag and crossed his arms, still staring up through furrowed brows. He nodded at the man and began closing the door. A hand landed on the edge of the door, bringing it to a halt.

“Wai- wait, i do have a question. You have left food in the kitchen, i haven't eaten anything in quite a while, may i have some?” A simple question, one that Horangi would usually say no to. But, he did suppose he deserved the man something. There wasn't a lot left anyway, he wouldn't be wasting anything. Why not let him eat, just this once? He nodded again, and shut the door. He could feel it shake the room. He sat by the door, waiting for the footsteps to go away. But they never seemed to, no, it seemed like they sat and pondered. It was like he sat there for minutes, maybe even hours. But it never seemed like they went away, still sitting. Finally, he said screw it. He’d needed to get up and out anyway, if König was standing there he’d be the weird one. Standing at a door like that, that would be odd.

Opening the door, there was no one. Not a single soul in the hallway like he once thought there would be. Had he moved? It didnt sound like he did? Horangi could have swore… He didn't hear anything at all.

He moved like a mouse, the man built like a bear had left without a sound? How? Horangi looked around one more time, there was no way that he had actually left right? Maybe his eyes were deceiving him, having another episode. Maybe another episode would happen soon? But, he wasn't here, there was no one in this hallway. Closing the door, Horangi took off his mask and sat back down on his bed. Feed together like a pretzel, both hands on his bowl eating his rice. Maybe he was to have another episode soon, maybe it was a big one. That would explain why he hadn’t had one in so long.

Horangi had those once in a while, vivid images of what he had done. That and what some had done to him. The scars he has were a constant reminder, yes, but they were nothing compared the the views that he saw.

Men coming to him, red as the blood that spilled from him that very night. Stuck in the warehouse, stuck to the ground by chains. Light brown eyes that stared deep into his, he could smell the stench of dried blood the longer he stayed there. Eyes gleaming over his open skin as the sores clung to him like sharks drawn to blood in the water. His back destroyed, left in place by marks that resemble a tiger’s stripes. The same thing strung around the backs of his thighs and arms, coming down to his tattoo that stood on his wrists. He got them before he was attacked, a sign of good luck he thought he had for gambling. What a thought he had.

But of course it was better to not think about it, not when he knew it was to happen soon. It would only make it worse, it was in the back of his mind all the time yes. Like a bullet, but if he kept his mind occupied it usually wasn’t as bad.

Maybe he should go for his run, he could clear his head. That could be best, he needed to get out anyway. Or he could go and clean up the food he had made…that might be the better idea of the 2, he was usually good at doing dishes but recently his mind has been at a scatter. Maybe he needed to go on another mission? That could be good, yes. He could ask to go on another mission. A recon mission, he could sit and wait. Horangi hastily walked to the kitchen, social interaction was not what he was wanting at the moment. He felt dizzy, indecisive. It got this way once in a while, it really was coming soon. He felt like he was seeing double, he WAS seeing double. He needed someone to be there when it happened, usually he asked Oni to be there. Oni could someone understand or help, but…Oni was on a mission right now, in Russia. He should get back to his room before it happened, yes, he didn't need to go on a morning run right now. He needed a shower, and a cracked mirror.

Horangi stumbled back through the hallway, hitting the walls as he went. His body felt week, he could feel the torn skin on his body ache and burn. Finally, his door. Had he been running? Maybe he had been. A demon whirled inside his head, opening the door felt like a hassle. Like, for some odd reason, it was the hardest thing in the world to do. Like he was using chopsticks to pick up a flat penny. Although Horangi could do that, he was dizzy. He couldn't see straight, scratch that he couldn't see. A white page filled his vision, speckles like the summer sky. Dots of all colors but still somehow just white. Almost like he was looking at nothing, what does nothing look like. That doesn't matter, what matters now is that he got into his room.

Which the lock on doesn't seem like it wants to open, no matter what he did it sat there. He worked with it for what felt like hours, it would not open. For a moment, it sounded like there were footsteps behind him, like he could hear something besides ringing in his ears.

But there was no one, there couldn't be anyone. Right? He was alone, he had to be alone. There was no one, there couldn’t be. And yet, he heard a small voice. Almost a squeak like a mouse, but he couldn’t make it out. Horangi turned around, he put his back against the door. He could see again but, it wasn’t it couldn't be. It there wasn’t anyway, he had gotten away. He was away they couldn’t find him. It was just a vision, he tried to tell himself this over and over again. It was just a vision, it wasn’t real. Its not real, right? It cant be real.

What he didn't understand was that he was right, but in his hyperventilating, his friend had come back with his bowl. A bowl, and a worried look in his eyes. He could see, it was just König…just König.

He needed to remember, its just König…just König.

Chapter Text

König watched Horangi struggle to open the door, fiddling with the key he had in his hand. He looked frantic, like he was panicking. He was panicking, eyes frantic and palms sweaty. König watched for a far for quite some time. He didn’t know what to do, should he help him? Ask him what is wrong?

König walked as quietly as he could behind the man, if anyone were to come down this hallway. That would be a sight to see, two people who don’t talk to anyone around each other at this time in day. Suddenly and without warning, Horangi flipped around. His dark eyes darted around through furrowed brows, he looked like he was trying to find someone.
“Horangi? Are you alright?”
eyes finally met his, if he wasn’t feeling nervous before, he definitely was now. He felt a bead of sweat drip down his face, even through his balaclava he could feel it. It sounded like Horangi was mumbling something to himself, but König couldn’t make out what he was saying. One more time König tried to get his attention, should he touch him? Was he… sleepwalking?

“Horangi are you with me?” König placed a hand on Horangi's shoulder, his muscles tense. If he tensed anymore, he would rip himself in two. It was a risky thing to touch another, an equal. Were they equals? That didn’t matter right now, he wanted to help. The man did help him a lot this morning. Horangi's eyes landed on König’s, two black holes with, what seemed like no end to them. König felt like he was looking right through him. He knew Horangi got like this once in a while, he had heard the rumors from other debriefings. That he had “episodes”, he had overheard once from Oni that he had these. He overheard a lot of things but it was just hitting him that these rumors could very much be true.

König heard him hit the door, eyes now staring at Königs chest. He removed his hand and tried to get on his level but, Horangi kept on moving down. Now on the floor, he sat there. Muscles finally relaxed, his knees folded in front of him.

“Horangi, please say something. You’re kind of scaring me” König gave a weak smile which obviously was only seen through his eyes. He looked like he wasn’t breathing, maybe he wasn’t. König couldn’t tell, there wasn’t any movement in the man. He heard a deep exhale come from him, his eyes closed and his hands fell to his sides. He looked more exhausted than König felt, and that was saying something from a man who just got back from the deep cold of Russia.

“König, it's just you…” Horangi smiled with his eyes, slowly he got back up
“Are you…alright? I was just coming back to give you your bowl.” König stood and held out the bowl that was still in his hand, light and delicate. Horangi stood up fully and took the bowl, holding it by its rim in his hands. He could feel every detail engraved in it, it was quite a pretty bowl. He had taken it with him from Korea, it was his grandmother’s. But now it was only used once in a while, it sat in his room gaining dust most of the time. Apparently, it had somehow gotten out of his room, into the kitchen, and into the hands of the man that stood before him.

“Ah, thank you for this back. Yes i am fine i just didn't feel very good.” sunken eyes stared at him. Worry engraved in them like a knife, it felt like he was looking through him. König seemed to do that, having a sense of worry that other’s somehow didn’t.

“Do you want me to bring you to the infirmary? We could go and get help if you wa-” a hand was brought up to stop him.
“No no, its, im quite alright i don’t need any help. Thank you though, again König.”

Horangi opened up his door and waved a small goodbye to the man. Before quickly closing the door, König was left standing in the hallway. Staring blankly at the door the man was just struggling against. Did he do something wrong? He was just trying to help, maybe he had only made it worse. König sat there dumbfounded, maybe he had done something wrong. He was good at doing things wrong, especially recently. From the mission, to the infirmary, and now he was just trying to help a friend…that word didn’t seem to fit in his mouth, König hadn’t had a “friend” in a long time.

It could be true, he was too much of a monster to be friend’s with anyone. He began walking down the hallway again, he should go back to his room. Take a shower, go to bed. Do anything but sit here, a shower did seem like a good idea.

He found his room and peaked at the door, as if someone were to be in there. He had done this since he was a kid, learned to always check before he went into rooms. But, there was no one. Why would there be? He shut the door quickly and locked the door behind him. Finally, he could take off his hood. It was like a vice when he was by himself, not the best thing for him. But he needed it out in public, no questions asked he needed it. Unhooking his belt and throwing it across the room, he felt at home here. In his tiny, little room. A place where no one dared enter, something that was truly his. Hastily, he took off his mask and balaclava. He could feel his hair and skin stick to the mask, it ripped and tore at his body. Taking it off it revealed light strawberry hair, and a broken nose that had gone crooked as the years went by with no care. A cleffed lip that had his fucked up teeth on full view, König wasn’t necessarily ugly. He was just full of scars and story’s.

König’s teeth were somewhat fixed when he was a teen, he had gotten enough money to fix his molars and some of his front teeth. But his canines remained the same, there were 4 of them in total, 2 of them in their usual place. And another set right above where the originals were. His teeth were malformed, so was his face. Nasty scars sat along his jaw from a failed attempt at being a recon sniper, when he had first tried he hadn’t held the gun correctly. The gun railed back and nailed him in the face, a broken jaw and a couple of stitches later he was back to hunting down people.

Another nasty scar ran down the right side of his face, going from his eye down his chin. It had faded after a while, but still. Scarred skin sat in the very position since the day he had gotten it. His father had given him that one after a drunk night and a fight between both of them. He was 12, after his father had screamed at him. He had begun crying, in response, his father said the statement. “If you want to cry, i'll give you something to cry about” he took out his pocket knife and gave him something to cry about. Blood and tears mixed into the carpet on the floor. He sobbed and cried for his father to stop, the knife only cut deeper the more he cried. It has stuck with him since then, never left his side. It was a constant reminder of where he came from, and what he was now.

Setting his phone on the table and taking off his clothes he led himself to the shower, the cold water began to flow from the shower head. It wouldn't heat up for a minute, he could examine the broken ribs he had gotten.

2 broken ribs on each side, both on different parts of his body. He wondered if they’d heal any better than the last ones did. The ware and tare on him was immense, scars and cuts across every square inch of his skin. And a big bullet wound on his side, it looked like a lighting strike panning his ribs and side. New bruises had started to form, purple in color they stained him like paint. It was almost beautiful in its own sense, what colors it could turn into and what color it was now. By the time König had assessed his body, the water had heated up. A nice and amazing boiling temperature that could melt his skin off if he’d make it any hotter, getting in he could feel the day melt off his skin. Well, the day and then some. He was too tall for the shower to reach his head, he was too tall for most things but this was one of the more annoying things. Nonetheless, he still enjoyed the water on his skin, like every drip of water that violated him was a minute gone from the past few minutes, hours…days.

Slowly, he tilted his head into the shower head. Allowing the water to run through his light, curly hair. König had tried his best to keep his hair in shape, he had this problem since he was a kid. Curly hair that wanted to be long, he would cut it often. Trying to keep it into the standard he had been given.

But it would never stay that way, after around 3 or 4 weeks his hair would grow back out and the curls would come through. When he trained they would be doused in sweat and stick to his forehead, not something he enjoyed. And right now they were doing just that, long and untamed curls ran down nearly to his eyes in no order. Untamed. He’d have to get a haircut soon, he could buzz it like he usually did but that requires a steady hand and patience. König seemed to have neither of those things. Especially after a mission, he was tired, yes. But König always felt he needed to be useful after a mission, he HAD to do something. He should stop worrying.

He was taking a shower, this was an enjoyable moment. And yet there was still something on his mind, something he hadn’t addressed yet. Horangi. König had tried to communicate with the man before but, he'd always failed. He would always get too nervous to talk, or he would be interrupted. He noticed the man since he had shown up to KorTac, always trying to listen in and learn more about him. It never ended in his favor however. Recently he has been able to get closer to him, what an interesting thing. König trying to make friendships, Ha!

What a statement, friends, with König? Who would want that…Horangi maybe, what a joy that would be, a friend for König. Velikan said he needed to make friends, and to try to socialize. He said it would “desensitize” him to other people. Maybe he should try and get out more.

He ran his fingers through his hair, feeling each part of his scalp. Applying his shampoo, and washing it out again. Turning his back, he felt every little droplet traced his skin. The freckles and scars felt as if they were on fire, like he could burst at any second. It felt amazing, all the tension in his shoulders released as his muscles eased. He could feel every ache in his back slowly despite into steam. It was a wonderful feeling, washing off a day. He’d need to get out soon however, he did eat earlier but. Lunch was coming around soon and he’d enjoy getting some of this energy out by lifting weights, or maybe even going on a run. König didn’t usually run, he spent a lot of his time weight lifting, however once in a while he would go for a light jog.

He deicide he’d had enough of the shower, it never got old. But he was an important man who had important things to do…like go for a run and get lunch, it was around 11:00. Maybe he could invite Horangi out for lunch after a run…no that seems to direct. There was no possible way the man would want to go for a run with HIM. Getting out of the shower, trying not to slip on the newly wet tile floors and bent over and looking into the mirror. Still the scared little boy he once was, it felt as if it never changed.

He felt up his face, running his large hands over the scars that spread across him like the craters on the moon. With two big, almost grey circles in sunken sockets. And the smallest amount of stubble on his chin, and that stupid broken nose with that stupid cleffed lip. He resented his parents for not fixing it in a timely maner. Closer to his nose it was fixed, but they never had the money to help the palette of his mouth. It truly hurt him that they didn’t bother to fix him, not in the way he wanted at least. They wanted him to find god and be better that way, he had no interest in god. If he wanted to believe in a god, they shouldn’t have made him a monster. He smeared at himself in the mirror, flashing his double canines. Staring for only a moment longer, now would be a good time to go for that run. Wouldn’t it?

Opening the door to his room, he was bombarded by cold air on his skin. It was almost like he was back in Russia, except he was wet and cold, not just cold. Finding a new pair of clothes he looked at himself in the full-body mirror he usually kept in the corner of his room. Every person has one the last he knew, he just often chose not to use his. This time, he looked…decent. Besides his face, he looked like a normal human being, one that wasn’t the terrifying 6’10 giant people knew him to be.

Taking one last look in the mirror, he grabbed a different t-shirt with holes cut out of it and left, no need for eye black, right? He was just going out to go and ask Horangi to go and eat lunch with him…why would he need eye black for that?

What was he thinking? He couldn’t ask Horangi out to go and eat lunch after what happened. That would be trashy of him, and yet here he found himself. Walking down the hallway to ask if the man wanted to go out on a run with him and go eat lunch. It would be his treat, he did owe Horangi something for letting him eat some of that mildly spicy food that he struggled to eat, right? König fought himself every step of the way, he couldn’t do this, no way. Maybe he could try tomorrow. He stopped himself in the middle of the hallway, he stared at the ground. It was almost as if it offended him, as if it called his mother a drunken whore. But he hadn't done that, he was just thinking. He couldn’t do this, he was exhausted. Maybe his tired state was messing with him, what was he thinking? No, he can't, he won't.

Quickly he began to walk back to his room, lunch could wait. It could all wait, he needed to do something to occupie his mind. Maybe he could journal, yes that was a good idea. He swiftly went into his room, locking the door behind him and ripping the mask off his face.

His indecision has caused him to panic, sharp breaths followed by him sitting down on the floor. Gripping at it like it was his life support, followed by more intense breathing. He couldn’t breath, he couldn’t think. There was too much going on, he was just sitting in his room but oh god did he hurt. His chest felt like a vice, like he could rip open at any second. Just 30 minutes ago he was admiring how he looked normal, now look at him. A skeleton of a man sitting on the floor crying like a child. He tapped his foot anxiously, holding his knees with his hands. Trying to find anything to grip at, it was like his lungs were collapsing. He could feel it, in his hands. It always fed into his hands, this unbearable feeling of electricity. It felt like electricity, pins and needles, hot and cold all at once. So many feelings that he couldn’t place. The tears streamed down his face like when he was a boy, hot. They burned the scar that sat in place of his cheek.

He tried to stand again, pushing himself off the ground with enough force to break someone's bones. Dizzy, he fell against his dresser. It felt as if people were watching him, like someone always had eyes on him. Frantically he looked around the room, no one. His arms and hands continued to shake, bones trembling like a baby deer learning how to walk.
His mind began to settle, thoughts were able to be placed again. Thinking wasn’t a chore that he had to do, now it came naturally and not all at once. Flopping on his bed, maybe he could rest. Just for a little bit, it was always nice to have a rest once in a while. It would be good for him, better than trying to be social with others.

Lying down, he could feel the cold sheets under his skin. It smelled like air freshener and his shampoo, his shampoo always wore off on the pillow. He could constantly smell it when he slept, if he slept.

Before he knew it, König had slept for hours. So many in fact, he had slept into the next morning. It was 4:30…AM, he had slept for almost 20 hours. Sleeping for that long was not something he enjoyed doing. König liked to be productive, it was an off day for him so he had nothing to do. But that didn't change the fact that König still felt like he Needed to be productive.

He still smelled of his shampoo that seemed like it never dried, soft skin met itchy sheets as he jolted up out of the bed. A cold sweat began to form, his nervousness was coming back in the form of shaking and irritation. That usually happened after panic attacks, he would constantly be irritated by the smallest of things, the smell of the sheets. Or maybe just the way the mask wouldn’t want to fit onto his face. Even just certain people talking could set him off, taking meds always helped but he never enjoyed going to get them. He could use breakfast however, he was ravenous. König hadn’t eaten in quite some time. Accounting for the fact that what he did have was rice, he could definitely use something to eat.

Slowly rising to his feet, his sockets and limbs no longer felt heavy, almost like a weight was taken off of his shoulders. Muscles unweaving, a basket that had no reason to carry things, at least not in this moment.

Checking the mirror, he could see the damage he had done to himself. Ripped nail bed, blood where his scar bleed from when he got too stressed. He could see where he was sweating through his clothes, it was time to do laundry anyway. He needed to make a list of things to do, so he picked up a checklist. A small notebook he kept in his back pocket on his work pants, with the smallest pencil known to man, wrote down things that needed to be done today. In the smallest writing he could muster with his horrible penmanship, he wrote “laundry, weights, eat, run…”. But he still felt as though he was missing something. Maybe it was his mask, he’d always need that to feel right. Finding it wasn’t hard, he had torn it off right before he passed out. It lay on the floor. Setting right where he left it. He felt normal in it but…that wasn’t what was missing…Right, he promised himself he would ask Horangi out to run. Maybe he could just add that to “run” and do it last, really prolonging the day. Erasing the scribbles he made on the page he rewrote “run” to “H-run”. Who knows maybe he’d forget all about Horangi, maybe he wouldn’t have to go on a run.

Sliding out of his room, still as quiet as a mouse. Looking left and right, like there was something chasing him. But there was nothing chasing him, it was only his irrational fears.

What to do first was always a problem, when he started something, he could keep on the path…but. It was always difficult for him to figure out WHAT to do. Should he do laundry first? Or maybe he should eat, no. He had a laundry basket in his hands, it would be better to do laundry first. The laundry room was only a couple of hallways down, passing by the commune area. He could smell the stench of rotting food in the room, knowing the people he shared the base with there very possibly could be something rotting in there. Whether it be an animal, or a human. König continued to walk on nonetheless, he couldn’t be bothered to check it right now. It was just easier to ignore it. Walking into the laundry room there was no one, not a singular soul in sight. That made things easy for him, he could get in, do his laundry, and then get out.

Low and behold, while loading his laundry a man appeared around the corner. Sebastian Krueger, not a bad man. However Krueger was known to have a temper and an ego to match it. He was also one of the only other Austrian’s on base, so König had less remorse for the man.

“König, it's good to see you again. I'm guessing Russia was as cold and as deserted as it usually is?” Krueger wore a sniper hood always, he had seen the man wear that nearly every day of his life. On one occasion, he had seen him wear a balaclava in the gym with his “partner”. König was able to see right through those two, they were joined at the hip. But KorTac needed them too much for them to be dishonorably charged, not to mention Krueger kept Nikto sane. Besides that, the man was nowhere near as tall as König. 5 '10 was nothing to scoff at of course but, to be a foot shorter than the man you were nearly equals with the…humbling to say the least.

“You know, I heard you took down an entire unit by yourself. Is that true?” König could feel him smirking under that mask, Krueger did enjoy pushing buttons.
“I wouldn’t say that, there were maybe 35 of them, not an entire unit.”
“That's pretty impressive even for you and your history”
“Uhm, yes i suppose it is, thank you.”

König didn't know what to do with his hands, he felt fidgety and nervous again. It always had felt like Krueger could see through him. As if there was a past that he knew everything about, logically, it didn’t make any sense. Krueger had no access to files, he couldn’t look into anything, and König hadn’t mentioned anything to anyone on base. But there was always that creeping feeling in the back of his mind that he KNEW something. Krueger began to pace, back and forth across the laundry room.

“You know, Nikto and I enjoyed going to Russia. The views, the cold. I wouldn’t suppose you know anything about going and enjoying it though, would you?” His pacing made König nervous, Krueger was surprisingly good at getting under peoples skin, especially Königs. He knew it bothered him, so Krueger continued to do it.
“Going with other people, I mean. Youve always gone by yourself, haven't you?” it was a simple statement, one that, usually, wouldn’t cause a rise in König. But something inside of him kicked, like a beast wanting out of its cage.

“No Krueger, i haven't gone with anyone besides a special unit.”
“What a shame…” König could feel the smirk on his face, he could do nothing but turn and glare.
“Why is that a shame, Krueger? You seem to like being alone as much as I do, or, is there someone I'm missing that you seem to be so attached to.”

The air grew thick, you could cut it with a knife. The suspension in the room only rose when König made eye contact, and Krueger knew he wasn’t just looking at him. But he was looking directly at him. No dashing of the eyes, no aversion of contact. Krueger knew he struggled with eye contact, he knew that the first day König had arrived on base. A fresh new recruit ready to be trained, he had tried his very very best to not look people directly in the eyes. Krueger averted his gaze, he had no extension of fighting König, that would be a battle he didn’t fully know if he could win. He just wanted to tease him, that was all. Maybe get a rise out of him, push his buttons. But fight? Oh no, that was not a good idea. Although, he had pushed harder before. He had also gotten more out of the man. Getting information out of him couldn’t be that hard, besides. He knew a secret that not anyone else on base had even an inkling of an idea about.

“Calm down, i'm just teasing” The edge of the room vanished, light pinks and reds flowed into the room from the sunrise, casting a shadow on both of them.
“Yes I'm calm, I'm sorry about the comment I made.”

König averted his eyes again, looking down at the washer which had finished rather quickly. Moving over his clothes he made eye contact again. Trying to make words form in his mouth, coming up with no conclusion as to what he was trying to say. Hands rising and falling like his breath, quickly and with no real intent of making a pattern. The silence was broken when he slammed the door to the dyer, not on purpose, no never to make loud noises on purpose. Both of them jumped, like small children reacting to anything out of the ordinary.

“You know, I saw you with Horangi at the infirmary.”
What a statement to bring up, out of the blue, no flow into the conversation.
“And so what of it? He was just helping me get medication” König knew damn well that was a lie
“Well, ive seen you go the infirmary many times to get medication. You’ve never needed anyones help.” another wave from Krueger and chuckle under the mask.
“Why do you care so much?”
“Why were you with the lieutenant? You’ve never seemed to have an interest in him before”

Just like that, in each other's faces. The room grew with tension again, building like a skyscraper. König’s brows furrowed, he was sweating and Krueger knew it. Krueger knew he was getting under his skin again, how far would he shove.

“Not to mention, after a mission i've only seen you go to your room or debriefing. What was SO important that you needed help from someone below you? Or was there…some other reason?”

Krueger tangled his hands in part of the mask, he didn’t like people touching his mask. That was not something he tolerated well. Suddenly he ripped Krueger's hand from his face.

“Hands off the mask asshole”

Krueger had done it, he’d pushed his buttons. He had pushed his buttons so hard that he had nearly ripped part of Krueger's skin from his bone and tendon, leaving a rash in its place. Sure it hurt, but Krueger was used to much worse from nikto. The constant fights they got into, whether it be playing fighting or not, had gotten him used to the random bone bruising and skin tearing that came along with it. König was seething, he could feel his heart push blood through his body in his ears. It was like a war drum that called to him but he couldn’t answer. No bloody knuckles were not something he needed, he was just doing laundry. Needing more to wash was not something that was preferred.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Silence, both Austrians turned their heads to see Velikan standing in the doorway. Laundry in hand, and only in shorts with his mask.

“No”
“Yes”
“Kruger, would you shut up?”
“I wouldn’t have to shut up if you would just admit that yo-”

A strong hand covered Krueger's mouth, strained eyes looked desperately into his sniper hood. He had figured out König's secret, and knowing Krueger he wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret for very long. Impatient, Krueger ripped König’s hand from his mask. And repeated.

“Hands off the mask, Asshole” quickly flipping him off and walking out of the room.
“What was that?” Velikan stood next to König, filling the washer.
“Nothing of importance”
“It was important enough for you to touch him, you don't touch anyone”

ah yes, Velikan was usually right. And Velikan knew König too well to pass up what was going on. He had the smallest inkling of an idea but, to suggest it was not a good one. König tried to avert his eyes again, finding anything but Velikan’s mask.

“It is not important, he just got under my skin is all” König gave a polite smile and waved his hands, acting was not König’s strong suit.

“You know I can tell you are lying, right?”
“Yeah…yeah I know.”

Chapter Text

The room had turned into a light yellow, the sun had risen more. It was honestly a beautiful morning, not too humid outside, the perfect temperature. If König went outside, he might enjoy the feeling of the sun on his skin. Right now he could use that, maybe even an escape. The tension in the room had calmed, yes. But that didn’t stop Velikan from staring at König like he owed him money.
The smallest piece of information he hadn’t told anyone, besides Krueger apparently. Although, the man was just very observant. He made assumptions and he made good ones. Oftentimes correct ones, but that didn't mean he needed to tell everybody on base. None the less he couldn’t think about that right now. What happened to getting in and getting out? Quickly doing his laundry and leaving, but no. König had to engage with people, and people just HAD to engage with him. Here we are however, standing next to another person and having half of a conversation.

“So are you going to tell me?” He shut the door to the washer and started his load of laundry, turning to face König.
“Why should?”
“Because you’ve told me things before, besides. Who would I tell?” a small head turn came from the man, along with him leaning against the machine.
“I don’t know, maybe I just need to take more meds…”
“So you can go more insane? Are you sure about that, you’ve had it rough as it is. I think you just need someone to talk to, not even a friend. It could be someone over text, me or…Oni?”

A chuckle was heard from him, his chest lifted each time he would breathe. Tattooed skin met the cold floor and washing machine. He had a semicolon tattooed on his arm and a snake on his forearm. That was what was visible from his front, König knew from experience that he had more than just these. On a mission in Germany, his shirt had been ripped. König got the view of ripped off wings, sure they were just a tattoo. But he understood how painful that could be and what it could mean to the man.

“I am tired of being alone.”

What a statement, it filled the air with sorrow. People knew of König, rumors had spread and different ideas were brought up in conversation about the man. For someone who wanted to be unseen, he was seen quite often. All the time, by everyone. This didn’t help König at all, he always felt as if there were eyes on him. As if he could never be more than what he was in the field, a proficient man. But outside of that he wished to disappear, wished that people either would see him as more than a monster, or not see him at all.

However, it's hard to be unseen when being seen is your trait. It's all of you, your entire body and mind. This stopped him from being able to hold a connection with people, when you feel as if they would tell everyone your secrets.

“That's new, König wanting to be with someone that isn't himself? Willingly?”
“I feel as if everyone knows me but…they only know the rumors. And that's fine, but I want someone to know me, the real me. I want someone to discuss things with, music, art, maybe even myself.”

König was rambling, this he knew. Getting Velikan to understand how he felt was something that he needed, especially in this time. His point, it seemed, was not being heard however. Sometimes it felt this way, the word vomit he would come up with could never truly describe what he was thinking or feeling. His mind worked so fast that no matter what he came up with it still didn’t say what he needed it to.

“So why don't you ask anyone? There are tons of people on base that would talk to you.”
“I don’t want just anyone, I want someone I can relate to.” König made a gesture with his hands like he was handing him something.

“I want...I don't know, someone.”
“Who were you thinking?”

A simple question, Velikan could see the indecision in Königs eyes. Telling Velikan could be detrimental to how he viewed König, right? It could destroy his reputation that he definitely worked so hard to get, a percussion section played in the back of Königs mind. A set being hit every millisecond he thought, what could this hold for him in the future if he did say something. It's not like he was trying to date the man, no not this time. But, it felt personal. Like a part of him was being seen too much. His soul was exposed to a human he had only talked to once in a while, but he supposed it was Velikan or he went back to therapy. König couldn’t stand that, watching his teammates look at him every day he’d enter the infirmary. It felt like he was defective, maybe he was defective. It felt like he was defective, only when they had looked at him like that however. Going to that room with that…woman. After a long still of silence, He finally spoke.

“You promise you won't say anything?” the worry in his face worsened
“I promise, i wont say a word to anyone.”
“You know Horangi, right?”

The silence that followed was deafening, he obviously knew Horangi. There weren't that many of them on base, and he was a lieutenant, who wouldn’t know. König felt like such an idiot, god why did he do that?

“Yeah, I saw him yesterday. I may or may not have accidentally stolen some of his food.” a light chuckle was heard from under the helmet, Velikan laugh could light up a room. His chuckle was light. He didn’t mean anything by the comments he made, a good man. König could feel the smile on his face through the helmet.

“Is it him?”
“Maybe” it felt so personal telling him, but. Its not like he is admitting he wants to fuck someone into a wall, just wants someone to talk to. It's fine, normal people talk about friends.
“He’s a good pick, you would get along with him well.”
“Why would you think that?”

He could tell Velikan was giving him a look, like a raised eyebrow look with a smirk on his face, he could just feel it. Through that stupidly grinning mask that he wore, König had no room to say anything about masks.

“Well, I've noticed a lot about him.”
“Like?”
“Where do i begin…? Horangi can be hot headed, he has had a history of blowing up on people. Especially people who linger, but in his years it's gotten better. Another man who wears a mask all the time, I've never seen him take it off in public.”

König couldn’t notice how he talked, calm and calculated. He thought about things hard and difficult before he decided to just say words and hope they came out okay. It seemed like he knew more about the people on base than anyone did. Velikan was social but he was usually quiet, only answering questions when asked and not usually saying a lot, this was a lot of talking for someone like him. Putting up his hand again, he continued.

“Not to mention, I've seen his file. Same as yours, I mean sure there are some major differences in lifestyle and past, but you two are quite similar if you’d ask me. In small parts at least.”
“How have you seen our files?”
“I've got connections, i know more about you than you’d think.”

The ding of the washing machine rang through the corridor, it could have been heard from outside. Velikan picked up his clothes, put them back in his hamper and started to walk back out. Small footsteps could be heard. The room was still again, not a thing moved. Why had he not dried his clothes? Maybe he was tired of talking to the man, explaining things to König could take it out of people once in a while. The mixture of him not seeming to understand but not saying anything was quite the challenge.

“You should talk to him, get to know him a little. He’s a good guy, just gotta reach out. You know?”

With that, Velikan gave König a polite wave and walked out the door. Footsteps couldn’t be heard, the silence was chilling. He was alone, again. Left to wonder, and think. Thinking too much could lead to another panic attack, and König didn’t know if he could handle 2 within the span of 3 days. So instead, he mindlessly picked up his laundry and went back to his room. That was one thing off the list of “things to do” that means he could write off that one little item and leave his laundry for some other time, it didn’t say he had to fold the laundry. Just that he had to do it, which included cleaning it. Nothing more, right? Of Course he was right, who else is gonna tell him otherwise. It may make him feel filthy later, disgusting even. But he needed to get things done, like work out.

Oh how König loved working out, something he could feel prideful of. No matter how much he hated how his ego was lifted when he did, it still was an amazing rush. It's the feeling of being in battle and not having a bullet tear through your shoulder. The feeling of being strong and powerful to yourself, not just others.

This was something that König needed, never because he felt emasculated, no. This was his, something he chose to do, mostly. Unless a mission needed him to be more agile or more heavy, then and only then, did the thing that he chose to do would change.

Besides this he had a choice on what he got to do, He could push iron like no other. Or do legs, or run, or…the options were endless. But he did have a usual, and it being early morning it would be unwise to waste this time on a run. Run’s were reserved for nights, and times when the hot humidity of the earth didn’t make his mask stick to his hair and face. But mornings like this were used for arms or abs, both of which sounded nice. Pushing his body was something he enjoyed on his own, seeing what he could do. Figuring out his breaking point was something he constantly enjoyed, and taking a shower after was always a nice plus. Taking off his mask and putting on a balaclava instead, he walked down to the weight room. Eager to get there fast, maybe the gym was empty. That would also be nice, what would not be nice is if he had to see Krueger again today.

Peaking the door, it didn’t look like anyone was inside. Perfect, he could workout for maybe an hour and then go eat lunch. Scratch that, he could workout, take a shower and then eat lunch. The pungent smell of himself was not something he enjoyed, it felt griming and filthy being sweaty and walking around base like that.

Sets were easy, sure he pushed himself like usual. But arms were something he enjoyed, working on biceps, triceps and his forearms was fun! It was simple most of the time, legs only made things more difficult. Trying to incorporate legs with arms in an hour was not something he wanted to do today.

Reaching into his pocket, and fishing out his earbuds. He did not want to entertain the idea of working out without music. Finding music to listen to in the first place has always been a challenge however, Königs music taste was and still is all over the place. American, Austrian, and so on and so forth. Hell he had Take me out by franz Ferdinand right next to je te laisserai des mots by patrick Watson right next to each other. There was no order in how his music was sorted, different things set right next to each other. The best he could do was try and find korn or maybe even grandson and let the playlist autoplay. That is just what he did, finding korn and touching a random playlist that someone else has made.

30 minutes in, he was hard at work. König had completely forgotten about the music he was listening to. He was only focusing on form and getting his next set in. Gluttony was starting to come in however, he could feel his stomach rumble after every round he had worked for, like a dragon bellowing. Only, he was the only one that could hear or feel it for that matter.

He could feel the sweat dripping off of his brows as he put away all the weights back to the rack and wiped everything down. Any time he would bend over to clean or get something done the smallest amount dropped from him. He was done, he was exhausted. It was a good exhaustion of course, a workout was never usually bad. But Working out had really taken it out of him, dressed in his black hoodie and sweatpants, he saw a shadow walk into the room. Or, it looked like a shadow? It was fast, he didn’t even hear the door open or close. Usually, a loud thud would be heard when it closed but. Nothing this time, maybe it was just a fan. Or maybe the base was infested with mice again, what a fun time that would be.

He was done, he could finish the rest of his list. And right now that would be getting some food, standing up his shoulders fell as he looked up at the ceiling. Right, he needed to take a shower first.

“Man, that was a good workout.” a chuckle was heard under the mask
“Yeah, it was.”

Horangi, the man stood there wearing a skin tight jacket with no sleeves and shorts. Not wearing his usual mask, no, but a gaiter. A small piece of fabric that covered the bottom half of his face. And those sunglasses, something König never usually would see him without. They hung from the V line of his jacket like a necklace. He was smiling, König could tell. Not a smirk but a regular smile. König turned fully to the man, sweat and all.

“Oh, hello Horangi. I'm sorry I didn't see you there.” König rubbed the back of his neck in nervousness, this could have waited for tonight. Why couldn’t he just make it to tonight?

“No need to be sorry, can I use those?”

Horangi pointed to the coral case of earbuds that König still had in his hands, he clutched onto them like pearls. He would never say no, but what a surprise. To be asked that question so randomly. No other, hello, how is your day going? Want to get out of my way so I can do my set. König stood there like a deer in headlights, he didn’t move an inch. It felt like an eternity for him, like he would never move from this spot. He would bask in the sunlight from the windows, and reek the rest of his life. Allass, he still had to have some form of social interaction.

“Oh sure, here.” König held out his hand for him to take, they fit in the mitt of his hand.
“Hey thanks, i'll give them back some time i promise.”
“Alright, have a good set”
“Will do”

König truly was rusty when it came to talking, that really was a “have a good meal, thanks you too” and a goddamn drive through. Horangi didn’t seem bothered, he seemed relaxed. The other man however, he was already sweating, now he was just having a cold sweat. Rushing out of there, König was ready for a shower. The hot water would be great on his skin, and then he could go and eat lunch. So this shower had to be fast. He could hear the giant door slam behind him as he walked the halls, he supposed his headphones wouldn’t be back for quite some time, or maybe Horangi truly would keep his promise. Either way, it would be alright. König had enough money to buy 10 more sets if he really wanted to, they were cheap gas station ones anyway.

His room felt musky, like it had been used as a sauna while he was gone. It felt moist, how gross. Immediately stripping, he ran the shower. Wasting no time getting in, it was always quite the time if he could get in while the water ran cold. It made the adrenaline pump through him, sure after missions he hated the feeling.

However, right now it felt amazing. Like he was on fire, like he was the fire. Running his light hair through the shower head he felt the cold water soak through him like a used sponge. Every tiny little droplet ran through his hair, slowly going from a look warm, to a boiling hot. It felt amazing, running his fingers through his scalp he could feel the dandruff fall from his hair.
The sweat on his back evaporated into little pebbles on the ceiling. Leaving on the small of his back, he felt how sore he was, tensed muscles loosened under the water along with sore tendons and bones. That mission truly took it out of him if he was still struggling with his posture and sore bones. He was tired.

But it was time to get out, hunger had set in way before. He had just chosen to ignore it, what was the point of worrying about eating if you could take a shower first, right? What would he eat today? Maybe he could go off base and eat, go live a lavish night for the first time in a while.

Maybe he could invite Horangi…thoughts scrambled through his head like no other, he needed to make up his mind. He heard once that Koreans couldn’t drink, would it truly be wise to invite the man if he couldn’t drink? He didn’t HAVE to go out to a bar, he could go out to a nice restaurant. There was a restaurant he passed one time when picking up groceries, what was that called…ah yes, right “The Owl Bistro and Bar” that could be a nice place. Stepping out of the shower he picked up his fogged up phone and typed in the location on maps. It was maybe 3 miles away, He could surely invite Horangi right? That's not weird? Just two…”friends” going and eating lunch together after never talking to each other ever in their lives besides for work…right, right. All normal things that everyone does.

Wrapping a towel around his still soaking wet hair he walked into his room, still mildly warm but it was a little chilly. Maybe he could try to go back and ask Horangi near the gym, that could work. That might be for the best, he could say “oh well i was just going to come back and get my headphones from you since they were my only pair. But I'm going out to eat, want to come?” that's not odd at all, right? No, it wasn’t, he could put on some nice clothes too. Ah yes, because he did remember that laundry was done only a couple of hours before.

König could be smart once in a while, ha! An audible laugh was heard from the man as the towel fell down around his eyes. Covering his vision, he picked out what he thought was pretty sure the nice pair of dress pants that he owned…the only pair that he owned. Dark blue in color and made of polyester, adding one of the only dress shirts he owned. A clean white button up shirt, it was the type of shirt to be see through if you got even an ounce of water on it. Even so, it was the only nice shirt he had. It was time to go and ask, put on an act if you will.
No matter how shitty of an actor König truly was, he could still try, right? I mean Horangi didn’t seem nervous last time they had a small conversation so why should he, even if the conversation will be quite a bit longer…so what? It's just a bunch of tiny conversations all in one, König could do that! He found his old belt and a gaiter, the last time he had worn his gaiter was quite some time ago. Maybe he should just stick with his mask. Or he could find another balaclava, König didn’t know what to wear. Still wanting to conceal his face was difficult on outings, König wanted to fit in and look as “normal” as physically possible. But that was hard for someone of his stature, especially someone looking like there out and about looking to rob a bank.

Indecision came at him like a bull seeing red, it was difficult for him to decide. He still wanted to look…decent. Maybe just his regular mask would work, if you could call it that. The “mask” he was talking about was an old t-shirt of his from when he was a boy, just a black one with holes dug through the chest and bleach stains coming out of them.

The top had not been sewn together, he had made that decision a long time ago. Sewing the top together was not something he wanted to do, or something he was even capable of doing. König couldn’t keep his hands steady for the life of him, no wonder he couldn’t be a sniper. He couldn’t sit still. Looking into the mirror one last time, he could see his father in him. He hated it, he hated how he resembled the man that resented him his entire life. Sure his mother shined through some times, in his ears and teeth. König had his mothers smile, but everything else was a copy and paste of his father. Sunken pale blue eyes with thick brows and a singular dimple of his right cheek. With a tubby face that looked like he had eaten too much for dinner, he truly did look like his dad. What a time.

No matter, he didn’t have to think about that right now. Besides, it was getting…hot in his quarters, and humid. Horangi would be done with his workout by now, he could go and ask and then go eat. Sounds like quite the plan.

Grabbing his wallet from a jacket he had left on the floor, probably tossed it after a mission. He paced over to the door, he could do this, this was simple. Nothing problematic about it, he could do this. That was the only thing that ran through his head as he opened the door to find, Horangi, raising his hand to, and to, what looks like, knocking on the door.

“Oh, hello” König was taken aback, he was not expecting him to show up on his doorstep.
“Hello, I'm here to return. Erm…these!” fishing the earbuds out of his bag, Horangi searched like a bloodhound.

“Oh, right, thank you. I was just about to come and look for you” König gave a polite smile which again could only be seen through the eyesholes of his mask. Horangi could tell he was giving him the most blinding smile he could muster up.

“You are dressed nicely, are you headed out?”
“Oh, um yes, i was just going to go-”
“That's great, can I come with?”

König was dumbfounded, he didn't even finish his sentence. He was halfway done, he couldn’t say no…right? There was no reason to say no, König was going to find Horangi. Even so, he was going to try and ask him. Make it his own little exercise, that's not to say that König was grateful, it lifted a great deal of stress off of his shoulders. Still odd however, did Horangi know? That König was trying this hard? Oh god, was it that obvious, it must have been that obvious. I mean Velikan and Krueger noticed, right? He was too out there, König should have been more reserved. Cursing himself in his mind, he tried to keep his polite smile.

“I…suppose I see no reason as to why not. Would you like to go now? Or, would you like to leave in 30 maybe?”
“Nope, now is perfectly fine. Are we taking my vehicle or yours?”

This was really happening, wow. Okay, game plan quick. You go and eat with Horangi, have a good time. And then come back and have an amazing person after, seems like a plan. König created a small mini board in his mind with 2 people on it, like a kid's drawing he grinned at it in his mind. How fun it would be to have someone to talk to again, it filled his brain with a hit of dopamine, like he was doing drugs. Lets just pray he doesn’t get too attached to them…

“We can take mine, I can pay if you would like.” König fully walked out of his room, politely shutting the door behind him. Taking in Horangi he could smell the shampoo on him, like a misty day. Maybe even grass after a fresh rain, he smelled like home back in Austria. Recently wet hair fell between dark eyes under furrowed brows. He always looked so serious, like someone has died, or maybe he had a shitty day at work. What a funny man.

“Amazing, I'll see you in the parking lot in 10.”

He will see me in 10…you can do this, its not that hard. right?

Chapter Text

König waited outside patiently, also nervously. Feeling as though he was underdressed for the occasion, he put on one of the silver chains his mother had given him. Along with the a ring that his father had given to him before the alcohol took his life. Not to say the alcohol killed him, no, it stopped him from living like he once did, the happy man who used to care for his son was gone. And what was left was an angry, unhappy man who wanted nothing but to drink and watch tv all day. That and abusing his child, it was like a game to the man. It was a horrifying game to König, why would dad be angry next?

That is besides the point. He need not think about those horrible things right now. He was about to go and eat with a person who actually wanted to be his friend, what an achievement. The car, or truck rather, König had was old.

The man who used it before him had used it for fishing and hunting, which meant old gear and dirt still sat in the back seat. It was like a reminder of who owned it before hand, and what it had gone through. The outside showed it had been through a lot: caps of mud still hung from the sides, you could smell the fish that sat rank in the bed of it. Paint slowly ripping off with each storm that came through, glass still broken and cracked from when König had first drivin it.

König waited for what felt like forever, time slowly passing as he looked from side to side. Trying to figure out what to do with his hands, straightening the chain that lay flat around his neck and fraying the ends of his sleeves, how should he stand? Should he lean? Where König came from, leaning was a sign of boredom and being impolite. Was it different for Horangi? He leaned all the time from what König could tell, on walls, chairs, tables. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as his mother had raised him to be.

Trying it out, he leaned on the front door of the vehicle, and he could tell he looked like an asshole. Legs and arms crossed, it was still engraved in him. Standing back up, König continued to not know what to do with his arms and hands. Should he keep them crossed? Maybe he should lay them on his front, or he could put them in his pockets. That also felt unnatural, however, what looked natural?

He could see the door open from a distance, but König had still not used his glasses. They were in his coat pocket somewhere, most likely in his case. It felt wrong to wear them, however, Horangi didn’t need to know that he was a freak and blind.

Lifting his hand, he gave Horangi a polite wave. He couldn’t tell if it was actually him. He was just guessing by stature and color scheme. From where König was standing, the man had on a black top with dark blue jeans, his sunglasses and gaiter, and… jewelry? He was too far away to see that last part, but everything else was noticeable. There was a black leather jacket in his hands as he walked that swayed from side to side like an ocean: in perfect rhythm.

“Hello, I'm sorry, my vehicle isn’t very…flattering.” Picking at his fingers again, König felt nervous.

“That is alright, I've seen worse. Where are we going?”

That's right, König had not yet actually told Horangi where they were going. He was too confused and the man had walked off too fast so he hadn't gotten the chance to. Even though König had picked the place with Horangi in mind, that did not mean he had picked the best place.

“Oh, there's a place just off base. It’s called “The Owl Bistro and Bar”. I've never actually been there, but…it looked nice.”

“It sounds nice, I hope you know I can’t drink though.”

“Oh yes, that's where the Bistro part comes in. It is still technically a restaurant, ive heard they serve food from all around the world.”

“Well, I suppose we will put that to the test, won't we?” Horangi was closer now, face to face, or, as close as face to face with König as anyone could get.

He did have jewelry on: a fine gold chain lay flat on his neck along with 3 different rings, 2 on his right and 1 on his left. The two on his right didn’t seem all that special. They looked as if they were merely there to take up space on his hands, fill the gap. But the one on his right, a black and silver ring, met with a sapphire that sat like an emblem in the middle. It wasn't a massive ring, nor was the stone in it. But it wasn’t anything König had ever seen before, he didn’t know they made them like that. Finally, König gave the man a polite smile and hopped into the vehicle. He shook it while climbing in, like a massive weight had been added. Thats because a massive weight had been added.

König was a good driver, which made some sense. Yes, the man was good under pressure, but this felt like the wrong pressure. Instead of getting paid to do this, he was merely being watched. Or that's what he thought until he looked over and found Horangi mindlessly scrolling on his phone.

That had put his mind to ease, not feeling as watched. It wasn’t that long of a drive. Horangi had turned on the radio halfway through but couldn’t seem to find a radio station he wanted to listen to. None of the songs they passed by caught his attention, except for one. And this is one that König knew, he enjoyed listening to it.

The song “Why would you be loved” by Hozier came on. König didn’t usually listen to sad music in the car, even if this wasn’t technically classified as sad. It felt sad, although it could mean different things for Horangi. Maybe it meant something completely different to him, not the meaning that König got out of it. And that would make the most sense, especially as to why he stopped at the station that played, no matter. If that was what Horangi wanted to listen to, König wasn’t going to be the one to stop him. He enjoyed Hozier, even if he didn’t listen to him all that often. Hozier was the change up that the man would use to escape.

Small neighborhoods were passed where people sat on porches, reading books, talking with loved ones, so on and so forth. It was peaceful in a way. These people were located near base, and König just knew that they often heard racket. Even so, it has to be a peaceful existence, living your life in this tiny little city. Passing by neighborhoods, which turned into the big city. Flashing lights, colors, sounds, all of it all at once. That was what the city life was like here, always moving. This city was never still, always something going on. City life was never boring, always people chattering and cars moving. Gathering areas constantly filled with people of all ages and backstorys, what a time to be alive. Not for König though, no, never. He enjoyed living on base, and not needing to come to the loud and bustling city.

König had been here to buy clothes and food, but besides that, he had no real reason to come here. It was beautiful in its own respect, the people and the buildings. Due to the population, there was always someone creating, whether it be legally or illegally. You could see this on the backs of buildings and trains that ran through the city. Large murals that would take up entire miles of blank slate, people were creative. One large one König saw often, he would always pass by it on his way into the bigger part of the city. Usually of something meaningful the community did, or maybe someone died and they needed to be honard. Whatever it was, they were inspiring to look at.

Horangi thought this too, although he came into town more often than his partner did. Horangi wasn’t nearly as amazed, understanding shapes and colors came easy to the man. When on missions, there was a small sketchbook always kept in his pocket.

Drawing small pictures kept the time going fast and it was crucial if he didn’t want to die of boredom on the job. He’d drawn small pictures of animals and trees that he would see around him, small objects and buildings, anything really. It was nice to get the idea of death off of his mind once in a while.

Horangi had lain back, there was no need to be tense. They were merely going out to eat, he was hungry, and that workout took it out of him. His endurance couldn’t help him lift weights, and today was legs. The man was lean, too lean for his own good at times. Building muscle was always a problem for him, he felt as though every carb and fat that went into his body was burned out in seconds, never able to keep energy and unable to gain weight like his co-workers. Even so, he enjoyed trying, and one plus of having a stupid fast metabolism? He could eat whatever he wanted to and not gain too much weight. Sure, he didn’t do it often. But after episodes, he could trap himself in his room and eat nothing but shitty food from the local market and be fine, besides the rapers and horrible stench of the room. The smell after binge eating always lingered on him like a stray dog.

König could tell they were getting close when things began to look unfamiliar, buildings and houses that he didn’t usually see on his routes into town. It was cute, this little strip of buildings, lines of shops and restaurants lined each side as König drove through a one-way street. People celebrating could be seen, others walking their dog, others just seemed to be enjoying the feeling of the sun.

The ray’s bounced off his partner's skin like a mirror, or maybe it was just the phone in his hand. But the man did glow in the sunlight, contrasting to his very dark features. König gave himself a small chuckle, looking over, he could see furrowed brows. Horangi was always so serious, always looked like he was thinking about something very intensely.

“Is there something funny?” The man finally looked up from his phone and made eye contact, or from what König could tell was eye contact. Those eyes were still hidden behind dark glasses, like he was looking straight into the bare sockets of the man. Almost like looking into the pitch black of the vast, dark sky.

“Oh, no, i was just thinking.” König coughed out and turned back his attention to the road.

“About what?” Horangi inclined.

“About, umm.”

Now König felt awkward, like a calf waking up for the first time, or like he put his hand down the wet drain and he could feel the wet rubber touch his wrist. It was an uncomfortable feeling: not knowing how to answer but he needed to answer. Maybe he could make up something on the spot, that would be good, yes. What would he make up? This needed to be fast. They couldnt just sit there in silence. That would be weird and König could not be weird infront of his friend. Are him and Horangi “friends”? Is that the description he would use? He could see the restaurant, he really hoped they didn’t need a reservation.

“Oh look! We are here, what were you asking?”

“Hm? Oh, it doesn’t matter i suppose.”

Horangi sat up in his seat and touched up his glasses and gaiter, grabbed his jacket and looked at König then patted him on the shoulder.

“Ready?”

“Yes, are you?” König gave the man a reassuring look.

“Always, come on König, its not like we are going into battle. Its just a restaurant.”

“I know, i really hope we don't need a reservation. I did not make one.”

Horangi let out a small chuckle and hopped out, König followed quickly after. They met at the front of the truck and König gave Horangi a smile. Again, probably not very seen by the man, but he was sure he understood his intentions. It seemed he did, Horangi looked like he understood before. I mean, it wasnt very easy for König to tell, looking at the man was like looking at a bare slate, no emotion shown, maybe anger or gratitude once in a while. Besides that, the man was hard to read. Maybe that was purposeful, maybe he didn’t want to be seen.

König held open the door for the man as they walzted in. Horangi liked to think that they looked civil, maybe even decent. Besides the mask that hid there faces like a wolf in sheeps clothing, of course. Especially König, except the wolf came out more than the sheep. His stature made it hard for him to be a wolf in sheep's clothing, he looked menacing no matter what. For what its worth, he was trying.

The place was well lit and decorated with beaming light bulbs held under a yellow and orange glow. The walls were brick, painted a deep black. The floor matched the walls, but with the aura of the lights that illuminated them. Tiles were off center, Horangi could tell just by looking at them. And there was a bar that stood to the left of the doorway filled with all the alcohol anyone could dream of. Let me tell you, König could dream.

Back in his home town he drank at a young age, but he stopped after seeing what it did to his father when he was 13. However, he had picked it back up when he was 16. Sure, the stuff that his dad had wasn’t very good. They were a poor family, but anything he could find is better than any of the rat piss that people drank in america. That was his opinion at least. Even so, lots of people thought the alcohol here was better, that it tasted like liquid gold. Imported from so many different places, it reminded the man of home.

The two looked odd standing at the door. The restaurant was dead, empty if you will. Maybe 2 or 3 tables were full and even then, there were around 3 to 4 people per table. König picked a good time to come and eat, albeit later than he would have liked.

A waitress came over to them, quite slowly, like she was processing what she was looking at. Maybe she thought the establishment was being robbed, that would be interesting. They were interesting, two men, both of which were on the taller and brouder side of the spectrum, wearing mask’s to hide there faces. Yeah, not scary at all. Finally, she made her way over to the host stand and invited them to sit.

“Just you two tonight?” the woman beamed, yellow, like the sun.

“Yes, i do not have a reservation. If that is a problem we can go elsewhere.”

“Not a problem at all, nobody is here right now. If you will follow me ill set you up with a table and we can get started”

Horangi gave her a polite nod and followed her, König giving suit. Her smile could light up a room, and this room was already bright enough. She was a small thing, even compared to a regular woman of her age and size. With red hair and brown eyes, she looked happy, and a little nervous for obvious reasons.

“Alright, here is your table. Anything bringing you in tonight? Want me to get you started on some apitizers? Maybe a beverage?”

So many questions at once, König had almost forgotten why he doesnt go out all that often, but he remembers now. She pulled out a notepad and a pencil, obviously ready to take there order, waiting patiently a smile pulled at each part of her face. If she was having a shitty day, neither of them could tell. She would be good at poker, couldn’t catch her in a lie. Horangi looked at her and took off his glasses.

“Could we just get a menu and some waters?”

A nod was given as she walked away, notepad still in hand. Horangi turned his attention back to his partner, sitting in the booth opposite of him. The light above them was a darker yellow than the ones illuminating the rest of the restaurant. Perhaps it was almost out of charge, or maybe it was designed that way. The booths were a dark crimson red, almost the color of blood, with gold trimming and an even darker red to finish off the sewing that held the cushions to the wood. The engravings on the side were like wings, each symmetrical to the other side. This was a fancy place, and they were just eating lunch? This didn’t seem very formal, besides whatever König was wearing, Horangi admired the man for how he fit in it.

Finding things in his size that would fit his waist to leg ration must be difficult. And the chain that hung around his neck, no emblem, just a delicate silver chain that layed lightly on his neck. Along with hands that sat limp on the table, they looked warm. They also looked boney, and large. König looked like he could crush a watermelon with his hands, and yet there sat a ring on his finger. Dark in color, it looked like a simple band.

“Whats on your ring?” Horangi pointed to his hands.

“Nothing, it is just a band.”

“Can i look at it?”

“Can i look at yours?”

Brown eyes met blue, apon trying to lern about eachother, it seems they have come to an impass. Both of them are extremely stubborn. It’s not that Horangi has a problem showing him his ring, he just asked first. Besides, it is customary to give when asked, is it not?

“Whats your favorite color?”

“What?”

“I asked you, what is yo-”

“No i know what you asked me, we were just talking about rings why are we switching it up.”

König smiled again, this time linking his hands together. “I feel as though we got off on the wrong foot, you are eating my money, remember?”

“Yes, i suppose i am”

“So, lets get to know each other instead of getting into an argument over rings. What is your favorite color?”

“Pale blue”

“Really?”

“Yes, i quite enjoy the color. Its calming in its own respect, not to mention if you can find any type of clothing made of it, its very pretty.”

“I can understand that”

“What is your favorite color?”

That was a tough question for König to answer, and Horangi could tell. Indecision and panic was seen in his eyes. He was picurlier, hard to figure out. Horangi thought he could guess but, it seemed he was wrong.

“I like seaweed green, almost every shade of it. Its pretty looking, but…i don't look very good in green.”

“Why do you say that?”At this time, the waitress had come back. She had both ice cold waters in her hand, the glass gleamed in its value.

Etches and stripes lined each side of the glass, making a picture with it. At the bottom there were little engravings that read “T.O.” Horangi guessed it was meant to represent “The Owl”. maybe they made there own glasses or got them specially ordered from a company. The waitress smiled once more and pulled out her paper and pen.

“Here are those menus, would you all like to start off with an apitizer? Do we still need more time?” she looked up and down at the notepad and back to the boys infront of her, ready to take there order. She was rushing. Horangi wondered why but chose to keep that question to himself.

“Could we get maybe a couple more minutes?” Horangi smiled again, less politely this time. The amount of times he has been interrupted was starting to wear on him.

She was obviously also getting frustrated, her face turned into a scowl, as the notebook shut with a snap. Maybe she didn’t have as good of a poker face as Horangi thought. Her heels clicked as she strutted away, how funny to give such attitude to a guest. König knew all about it, however, he worked at a diner when he was younger and attitude is often times what happens when you work long, 12-hour shifts.

“So, why do you say that?” Horangi opened his menu and started to scour over it; so many options.

“I don't know, it just always looked…unatrual on me. Like there was something out of place.” König flipped it over and began reading the list of drinks they held at this establishment. Maybe he could get a drink from here. For now he should just stick with water.

“I understand, I look horrible in yellow.”

“Why’s that?” König flipped open the menu and looked over it. So many options in so little time.

“I wish i could tell you. It is beautiful like the sun, however, it looks like piss on me.” A light chuckle could be heard under the gaiter, perhaps it was funny to the man.

Options on the menu ranged from bang bang shrimp to foie gras. They really had something from every little bit of the world on these little sheets of paper, oh, the power they held. But König didn’t want something from his hometown, no. König wanted carbs. He was hungry, ravenous if you would. How would he eat? Perhaps he could lift up the mask once in a while and eat, or maybe feed it under the hood. Both were definitely options, but they weren't excellent ones, and he had no intention of showing Horangi his face this early. He didn’t want to scare the man away this soon, no, that could be left for a different day.

“What are you going to get? They have options here, very nice." König set down his paper and linked his hands together.

“Well, i just gone done with legs today. It may be in my best interest to get something with carbs.” Horangi set down his menu and set the phone down on the table, linking his hands the same way König had done just a moment ago.

“Really? I thought about getting the vodka pasta, it looks delicious and i am…hungry.” it was hard for König to keep eyecontact. The man opposing him still had his glasses off. It always felt as if Horangi was looking past his soul, or like he could see through him. Especially because the man usually always wore his glasses around base, König didn’t see him with them off often.

“You look uncomfortable,” Horangi set his head on his hands, peering up at the man.

“Why do you say that?” König ran his hand to the back of his neck, maybe Horangi could see through him, or maybe the man was just better at reading the room than König.

“Your eyes are frantic, and your doing that thing with your hands.” Horangi pointed at the man's neck, proving his point. König was good “doing that thing with his hands”, whatever that was truly supposed to mean.

“Only a little, im just tired is all. Besides, that doesn’t matter right now. When she comes back, what drink are you going to get?” König set his hands in his lap, out of sight, out of mind. Right?

“I will just stick with water for now, American sodas can be…too much.” The man had a point.

“When do you think she will be back?” König questioned.

“A couple of minutes, maybe? She didn’t seem very happy with us.” Another chuckle was heard.

“Ah, yes, did we cause that?” König set his hands back on the table, picking at the nailbed.

“Possibly, or she is just having a rough time.”

Horangi set his hand on König's finger, and set it aside again. König froze. Why was he touching him? This was unnatural. It felt bad, was it bad? Maybe it was just weird, something he wasn’t used to. Horangi felt cold, like an autumn morning in Berlin, or maybe the winter cold of Russia. Soft, padded fingers met rough, injured nails. König looked back down at the man, maintaining eye contact once more. Horangi's eyebrows had unfurrowed; they lay with sympathy, like a mother seeing a baby animal.

“I thought i told you to stop doing that, you will get an infection.”

“I-I, I am sorry.”

König tried to look away, he really did. It was hard to focus, and a weird feeling began to brew. He felt…important. Not just so a faction or a company, but to someone, like he was needed for more than just violence. This feeling lasted as he stared into the black abyss in front of him, brows furrowed again, and the feeling was gone. Even though it had only lasted a couple of seconds, it felt like a lifetime. He basked in the glory of it. The sun was on his skin, while soft raindrops fell from the high heavens. What a feeling. König tried to keep a straight face, sure his head was covered in a mask. However, someone at the table could see through the eyes that tried very hard to keep the rest of him concealed behind closed doors.

The sound of heels was heard from down the hall, they echoed off the walls like a ricochet. she was coming back to take their orders. König could do this, it was simple. That feeling that he just experienced should not stop him from being able to order his own meal.

“Do we know what we want?” Coming back, the woman was all smiles again.

“I'll start. I'll take spaghetti carbonara, and can i add chicken to that?” Horangi pointed to the menu.

“Sure, just to be sure, that will cost a little extra. Are we okay with that?”

Horangi turned to König, raising one eyebrow. Was he asking König? It was his meal, why did he feal the need to ask König? König merely lifted his head in a nodding manner, it was as if he was asking permission to add…chicken?

“And for you sir?” The waitress turned her attention to König and gave another smile.

“Oh, can i get the, uhm, vodka pasta? Please.” König said as he started rounding up the menus for the woman.

“Alright, ill be back with your food shortly.” The sound of heels again as she walked, or rather strutted, away.

They waited in perfect silence, comfortable silence even. König was trying to come up with questions and get to know the man better, but nothing came to mind. Horangi, however, had many questions. He just didn’t know how to bring them up, besides. The silence they were sitting in wasn’t that bad, it was quite nice. Finally, Horangi landed on a question, it was a question for the ages. Deep and important, something that would shape how he saw the man for the rest of his life.

“So, are you a cat, or a dog person?” Horangi broke the silence, cutting through it like a hot knife to butter.

“It depends, i like cats amd dogs.”

“But which do you like more? Cats? Or dogs?”

That was a hard question for König to answer. When he was younger, he fed the stray cats and dogs that would wander around his parent's little shack. Although he technically wasn’t supposed to, per his father's orders, he would always take some of his food out for them. He felt bad, it got bitterly freezing in the winter, and they had nowhere to go. What was he supposed to do? Let them sit there and be cold? No, he couldn’t do that. But remembering that didn’t tell him which one he liked more, it just made him upset.

“I don't think I have an answer, I like both. I've never owned a pet, Ive only fed strays.” König said as he sat with his hands limp in his lap.

“We will find out some day, promise. Most people prefer one to the other without realizing it.” Horangi turned his wrist to check the time

“Well, which do you prefer?” König inquired.

“Cats” Horangi replied

Somehow, that didn’t surprise König. It made sense for someone like Horangi to enjoy cats, the usually quiet but also very deadly animal. When König fed the strays outside, there was one particular cat he enjoyed, he nicknamed her Louis. He loved that cat, but one day his father saw him petting her and decided that he had had enough of these rabid beasts eating his food and influencing his son. König lost his only friend that day, he missed that cat dearly. Begged and pleaded his father not to, please, leave her alone. But no, and he never saw her again. Maybe Horangi was the same way, maybe he grew up poor as well.

Maybe he also wasn’t allowed to have pets; he could relate to König in more ways than one. How funny, this whole situation was funny.

“Somehow, that doesn't surprise me. That makes total sense to me, especially because of your personality.” König remarked.

“Hm, noted. Your turn, you get to ask me a question now.”

“Why do you wear the mask?”

“That is very personal you know, im here to eat lunch with you. Not get up close and personal with my past.”

König could tell the man was smirking under the gaiter, he could tell by the way his eyes squinted and the way his eyebrows unfurrowed. Horangi was more predictable than König had imagined; there were still mysteries hidden between those eyes however.

“We all have our reasons? Yes? I just wish to know yours.” König leaned back as the waitress came by with there food, it was ready faster than either of them had intended it to be. She set down there plates as Horangi gave her a nice nod and she stepped off.

“Maybe ill tell you some day, maybe I won't. I just don't like people looking at my face, its not something anyone needs to see.” Horangi added.

“Well, ive heard rumors. Why do you hide your face?” He was pushing König, and he knew it, but you ask a sensitive question, you get a sensitive answer or a sensitive question back. But by this time König had started shoveling the food into his mouth, feeding it through the bottom part of his hood, trying not to get any of it dirty. Horangi had also started eating quite aggressively. He liften the part of the gaiter that was around his mouth out. Only enough to shovel the pasta in a put it back, rinse and repeat.

König stared at Horangi with a gloomy look, König wanted an answer now. Even so, he knew he couldn’t push, no matter how much he wanted to. They were both shoveling food into their mouths, the starting contest hadn’t stopped. Both of the men looked deep into each other's eyes until both of there plates were done, König had licked the plate clean. Nothing but sauce and maybe 2 noodles were left of what was once there, Horangi hadn’t quite done that. He understood the culture here and understood he could take home his food and save it for later. Horangi flagged down the waitress and asked for a box politely. Still whilst staring at König, they had pushed each other hard tonight. Not with ill intent of course, Horangi merely wanted to do it for fun and König just wanted information…

Just information.

Chapter Text

It had been quite a while since König and Horangi had their outing, maybe 2 or 3 weeks. Just enough time for König to heal his bruised bones, and enough time for Horangi to get his episodes to calm down. Even so, Horangi knew he couldn’t go on a mission until he had it. Knowing when it was going to happen was a completely different story, theoretically, he could make one happen, but Oni still hadn’t returned, and he needed someone to lean on in that time of need. His head seared with energy, he couldn’t see straight. Things got dizzy, like he was seeing double. Horangi felt like a rabid dog, he needed to let go of a certain amount of energy. These times passed over the last few weeks like they usually did, he knew if he looked in the mirror, it would trigger an episode, so he cut out shaving his hair and scraggly stubble from the schedule. It could wait until he had someone to lean on. Episodes always contained the men that violated him as a young adult, leaving scars that looked like tiger stripes across his entire body. It was as though they were leaving a mark on him, so he could never forget what he did.

Even so, no matter how dead the men were that did this to him. They succeeded, the scars reminded him of what he had done often, all the time. On his hands and back, he could feel them rip and tear when he moved.

Like an ocean moving, even if that ocean is nothing but hot lava burning him alive every time he recalled it. A bullet in the back of his head that didn’t kill him, no. It only is there to annoy him, like an angry mother telling their children to “clean this damn room”. Or a father constantly reminding them that “boy’s can not and will not cry”. Sure they didn’t say it all that often, but it still burned into the back of his skull like two eyes searing into him. Not just his skull, his entire body. It felt as though they spared him nothing to remember Kim by, Kim died that night. Sitting there on the floor, his limp body yearning for something, anything. A mother's love, a warm bed, a hospital stay. None of these he got, but something in the back of his mind screamed at him, it yelled at him to get up. To keep going, you have to keep going. That's exactly what the man did, he ran for his life. The tiger trapped in a net of his own mistakes able to escape by the own hair on his tail. Bleeding out of every cut and wound that stung him like an iron, but no, he must keep going.

Kim's mind screamed at him, bellowing a sound that he couldn’t ignore. No matter how many times he screamed, he cried, pleaded even. To just give him another chance, he promised he would pay off his debt this time.

And yet, no matter how many times he begged, both inside and out, they never stopped. Even if he was far away from them, he couldn’t hear or see them, it always continued. “I'll pay it off, i Promise!” This was a lie, of course; the feeling of adrenaline was more important than the man's life. The tears that streamed down his face scalded him. It felt as though he was being branded, just another cow in the herd.

In all of this, that thought still remained in the back of his head. Like another human was directing him, screaming at him to keep going. Even though he felt like himself, a shadowy figure continued to tell him, You have to keep going.

Finally, a small number of words came to him. Horangi had been deep in the woods at this point, his legs and arms had grown tired of running, checking around, he rested. It was like his arms and legs were baggage, something he had to carry around; they weighed him down like two-ton bricks. Exhales of short, hot breath came from the man. He screamed again, just for someone to hear him, to help him. The voice in the back of his mind spoke again, “no one is coming to save you, get up.” It was like a word of affirmation that he could keep going. Like a reward for escaping, not escaping unharmed, of course. He was exhausted, no matter how much he ran he knew he couldn’t outrun the men that were after him. He owed them thousands in debt, debt he thought he could pay off by winning. But Horangi isn’t a winner, especially not at cards. This would shine through when he played with people on base once in a while.

Currently, Horangi set on the edge of his bed on base. He could feel every spring in the mattress, if you could even call it that. It was more like a rock that was meant to be a bed, it was atrocious. His mask and glasses lay on his bedside table, a tribute to how he said he could “better himself”. That is what his therapist had said at least. It was late at night and it would seem he was the only one awake, or, at least the only one awake doing productive things. The moonlight came through the miniscule window that hung above his bed, it was a cool night out. The crickets and other insects were having a time, chirps and creeks came from every part of the grass. It was like a party was happening. Horangi wanted to go for a walk, maybe even a run. But if he saw anything that reminded him of his treacherous past, well.

An episode would ensue, and people did not need to see him freak out and scream at the top of his lungs, be it off or on base. There was a warm light coming from the outside of his door, footsteps could be heard. Perhaps he wasn’t the only one awake at this ungodly hour, even if it was only 9:00 at night. He knew lots of people were asleep at this time, and he should be too. Unfortunately for him, the night seemed better for thinking than sleeping. Mind flooded with thoughts of what was and what will be, it was his time to shine. That and the late afternoon, not night, but close to it.

Three knocks could be heard on the other side of the door opposite of his bed, they were like the squeak of a mouse. Slowly, he lifted himself off of the bed and grabbed his mask and glasses, he was in no big time rush. If it were someone assigning him a mission, he could simply refuse for “medical reasons”. Stepping over to the door, the shadow that was cast with the meek light that lit the hallway outside illuminated a giant figure in the doorway. You could see the figure through the small cracks of the door, who was trying to talk to him at this time at night? And why? Looking through the small peephole at the top of the door, Horangi couldn’t quite make out who it was, he was tall but…not tall enough to be the man that would often come around his door.

“Hello?”

Stood before him, another giant. This time one wearing a helmet, Velikan. He had seen the man quite often from what he usually did, around base and at the gym. Wonder what he needed at this time of hour.

“Ah Velikan, how can I help you?” Horangi gave a smile
“We have a sparring matches tonight, it's not negotiable, be there by 11:00.” Velikan bellowed out, and walked off like nothing had happened, like he had just been in the hallway to go to the kitchen or maybe even the armory. Horangi chuckled quietly, sparing huh? He hadn’t spared anyone in quite some time, albeit only a month or two. However this was still considerably long accounting for how soon he would have to go on a mission, perhaps he needed to dust off the good old tiger.

He could shower, take some meds, and put on burn cream. All of the possibilities of getting ready, fun. Although, it didn’t make a lot of sense why Velikan came to tell him. They should have just sent a recruit, or someone of a low level, why Velikan?

No matter, he began walking to his bathroom. As neat as it was, he couldn’t get rid of the mirror. The man had to shave once in a while, not shaving was just not an option. Besides, his therapist said sometimes it was good to look in the mirror, take in what he had become. He’d have to, just to shave. Not tonight though, there was no reason to tonight. The stubble around his chin could wait, it was not all that important. Besides, he wouldn’t want to tear the skin on his back and neck now would he. All of the scars he had attained over the years lead to excessive bleeding if not cared for right. Going into a sparring match with untaken care of scars could lead to more blood on the ground and ring than he would want. That didn’t mean applying the cream was fun, it could be uncomfortable, and oftentimes would sting his skin like a bitch.

Digging through the brown bag he still had from the pharmacie, and pulling it out, he took off his shirt and tried his very, very best to reach what he could. Horangi is generally flexible, able to reach parts of his body that lots of other men in his unit couldn’t even dream of trying to scratch.

This always led to efficient application, hitting nearly every part that needed it. Besides that one middle of his back, where they had started to flare the skin to bone. Long divots of rotted and torn skin were left, stripes that covered his entire back like flames. It was quite a sight for someone, anyone really. Sure people had scars in the military, but his were special; they were earned in the worst way possible. By accident, and by a man who he never wished to see again. Dark pink lines everywhere, or everywhere the men were willing to reach, including him. His back felt cool after applying, like running small amounts of ice on a recent burn. Or being outside in the cool autumn of London, it was an enjoyable feeling. Lifting up the shorts he had on, he could see where the marks started, and where they stopped.

Horizontal lines of, you guessed it, more dark pink. These were less noticeable, you would have to look for them if you wanted to find them. Even so, they still needed the same treatment as any other scar on his body.

Along with the scars on his arms, these were just as the ones on his legs. Not the easiest to see, but still noticeable, they got the same treatment as any other part of his body. This left one last part of the body.

The face and neck, per usual, Horangi popped one of the pills he had been prescribed to calm his brain and got to work. Looking in the mirror, he saw the man he once was for a mere second and pulled at the torn skin that leaped across his face nearly up to his ear. It was a large scar, he could see his canines and a couple of molars peak through what was left of his face. They also sat across his face, his father had used to tell him that “women loved men with scars.” only if his father knew what he had become. Applying the cream to the top part of his ear and following the face down, naturally with how the scar had healed. Leading up to the scars to his eyes and across the bridge of his nose. It was done, he didn’t have to look at himself any longer, he could continue to leave the mask on and stare into the cold, dark eyes that sat above it.

It had been about 2 and a half hours since Velikan knocked on his door, he had around a half and hour to get there and be ready. Boy was he ready, the pill he had popped earlier was doing wonders, adrenaline was filling his body, Horangi was ready to beat someone up, anyone.

Dressing in all black and a green gaiter that he enjoyed, again, leaving the glasses he usually adored on the table. He wouldn’t need them anyway if he was getting punched in the face, this was going to be exhausting. Sparring like this late at night could take him out, leaving him with nothing but a bloody bruised body and a couple of wins. Even so, it didn’t get rid of the fun it brought to the man. Beating up his teammates was quite the time passer, even in dire situations of being on a mission. Sometimes, you and your team just gotta let off steam.

Finally exhaling, he figured it would be a better time now to be early than late. Grabbing his phone and the new pair of earbuds. Horangi was off, feeling good, listening to music in one ear and ready to fight.

It was a peaceful night out, crickets continued to chirp and Horangi hauled the door open. The outside air hit him like a truck, switching from the humid indoors to the cool outside was nice. A medium sized fighting ring could be seen 20 or so meters from him. Small groups of people stood together, drinking, talking and generally enjoying themselves. He spotted a few familiar faces, Velikan and Nikto, Fender, so on and so forth. But one stood out to him, one that seemed to be walking toward him. Sharp blue met dark brown, a cold but hearty smile was given between the two of them. It wasn’t 9:00 yet, but it would be quite soon. That meant he had a little bit of time to figure out what type of sparring was happening and how he needed to prepare.

“König, you’re fighting tonight?” Horangi asked questioningly.
“Yes…sort of, it's partner night.” König stood 3 steps away from the man, keeping his distance,
“Oh, is it? And who is your partner going to be?”

A chuckle could be heard under Horangis mask, devious and unsettling. König held his hands together in front of him, looking to ask a question. Or maybe just a risky statement, whatever it was, he was nervous. Horangi could tell just by looking at him, then again, it wasn’t that hard to see. He stood awkwardly, holding or picking at his hands. Not to mention the look in his eyes, he always looked like someone had just ran over his dog, or cat. All of this combined made him easy to read, especially right now. Currently he had all of these things checked off, every box marked. Nervous eyes, picking hands and an awkward stance. Horangi stood tall, oftentimes he’d try to match the height of people taller than him. Thinking that he was lesser because of his height upset him, so he held his head high. The mighty tiger, reaching to meet the king. Arms crossed and a smug look in his eyes, he would have a time with this.

Under normal circumstances, Horangi would go for Oni. The two worked well together, close to the same body build and fighting style. It was easy for the both of them to dominate the ring, but tonight. No, tonight would have to be different, Horanig would have to step outside his comfort zone.

“Could you be my partner?” König's eyes darted around as he said this.
“Sure, can you spar?” Horangi said as he took out his earbud.
“Yes, very well.” König turned to be by Horangi’s side, looking around at the rest of their unit.

“Will we win?”
“Most definitely…”

Horangi competitiveness was coming out, the adrenaline of actually winning in the ring always felt amazing. This affected König too, the idea of being good enough to help the man with a goal was something he wanted, no, needed to do. Horangi led them over to a bench by the ring and explained the ground rules of what he was used to doing, how he was good at fighting. Trying to keep König's attention to the idea at task.

“I'll be on your left, let's wait before we go into the ring. Then we can see how everyone else is sparring, how they enjoy throwing hands.”

König merely shook his head, following directions was something he was good at Afterall. Tonight, the man wore a black balaclava with a smaller, well fitting shirt that hugged him like a glove. With shorts that fell to about his knees, maybe a little above. König took sparring matches just as seriously. He hadn’t wanted the title of “King”. However, since he has gotten it, he intended to keep the name up. No matter what.

“Right, I can do that. Want me to hit them first?” König raised his eyebrow.
“No, you scare people enough as it is. First match, I want you to stare at them. Like they have just hunted your mother down, glare into their soul. Put the fear of God into them.” Horangi whispered into Königs ear as more people got closer, Leaning in so König could hear.

“I don't know if i can do that, i can try.” König looked down at his lap, holding his dog tags.
“That's all you have to do, I'll be quick enough that when i say go you can bulldoze them. Sound good?”

Horangi stated the plan like he had done so before, like it was such a simple and easy task to do. Not for König, standing still and waiting was not something König was good at. It would take lots of focus and concentration to hold eye contact with someone he was about to fight. More people started to gather, lots of small groups turned into bigger hoards of warm bodies. This would be a good night to spar, lots of people and lots of cold air.

“You seem nervous.” Horangi stated bluntly.
“What? No? I'm not…how could you tell?” König let out a sigh.
“It's written all over your half covered face.” The man gave himself a small chuckle. “Want to practice?”
“Practice sparring? I already know how to do tha-” Horangi cut the man off.
“No no, eye contact. I can see it does not come easy to you.”

König let out another big sigh and nodded his head slowly, He did not enjoy pushing himself in this way. He may have taken his medication before this, but that didn’t stop the small thoughts that gathered in the back of his mind. He turned his torso towards Horangi and stared at the bridge of his nose, it was scared and had the smallest little dabble of pink on it. It was…cute… in a way. But he always brought himself back to the black sockets that glared at him like he was doing something wrong. But in the fires that lit up every part of camp, he could see small bits of orange and brown in these dark eyes. As though there were something more than just two black pits of death in between furrowed brows.

“You aren’t looking at me like I've just hunted down your mother, König.”
“I am trying” Barked out.
“Well, try harder.” König could see Horangi’s smile pull at his face.

It must have looked odd, to see the men staring at each other in such a way. It didn’t seem that anyone was staring at them, from what Horangi could tell they were the only ones around the ring. Everyone else was communicating, talking to each other about one another’s day like a bunch of animals. This didn’t stop König from trying harder, he tried to think about his father, or maybe when a mission went south and he could do nothing but death stare at the rim of the ship. It was working…sort of. He did look angry, but there were bits of him that looked as though he were to burst out laughing.

“How are you going to fight? We haven't discussed that yet.” König inquired.
“That's for me to know, and for you to find out.”

This worried König, he liked probability. The idea that he knew Horangi’s next move sounded nice to him, it sounded easy and pleading. But no, his partner had to make things difficult for him. A frown could be seen, eyebrows furred and hands gripping his dogs tags harder. This was what Horangi was looking for, frustration, anger, distress. Not for König to dislike him, but to get this very specific emotion out of him. This pleased Horangi, he leaned back and smiled.

“That is what I want you to do in the ring, that right there.”
“What?” König was confused, wanted him to do what?
“Think about, just a moment ago, when I hid this information from you. I want you to think about how angry it makes you.” Horangi spoke with decency, like he had a point to get across and nothing was going to stop him.

König merely shook his head, he understood now. Or at least, he understood part of what he needed to do. But before he could ask any questions, a ref came out to the ring with a megaphone.

“Alright everybody, you know what time it is! if you haven't picked your partner, you'll need to know. Come up and write your names down if you've fought, and write if you have won or not. Please remember that we can see who won, so don't try and cheat.”

What was once a small crowd of people turned into everyone cheering, larger groups split into their twos and one of them wrote names down on a paper and set them in the box. Located next to the ref and two managers, merely there to make sure fights didn’t break out outside of the ring, moderators if you will. Along with a blackboard, König could only guess brackets were going to be placed upon it. Both men were ready for this, but they’d have to wait their turn. Lots of people were ready, but no one wanted to go first. To make things more “fair” the refs would look at the status of each individual and their rank, no first sergeant needs to be sparing with a colonel. When they forgot to do these things, people would end up more hurt than they needed to be.

If you did get picked, you would sit at one side of the ring with your partner. No gloves, knives, or other tools were allowed. You are also not allowed to use a mask to your advantage, that means anyone with a hard helmet cant headbutt another human or cause brain damage.

“Ready to watch the first round?” Horangi moved closer to König, letting more people sit on the bench. König was in the corner now, hands together in his lap as he glanced over to his partner.

“Yes, about as ready as I can be I suppose.” König could smell him, this time, he smelled like a burning fire. This could be because of the fires around them, but Horangi didn’t smell like smoke. It was different, something König hadn’t ever smelled before. Even though it assaulted his nostrils at first, he learned to sit with it after a couple of matches. Two warm bodies filled with adrenaline next to each other, Horangi, on the other hand. Couldn’t smell a thing but the idea of winning, too focused on each move the men in the ring were using. He didn’t notice how either of them relaxed, or how König shifted toward him instead of the side of the bench.

“Who all enjoyed that round?” The ref spoke into the megaphone once more, taking out a slip of paper and reading it off. The crowd cheered as both teams stepped down off the ring, one obviously more bloodied and bruised than the other.

“Who's ready for the next one? Our contestants are…König and Horangi against Fender and Velikan!” screaming could be heard from the crowd, everyone was waiting for the king to fight, they just didn’t know when it was going to happen.

“You ready? That's us.” Horangi stood and led König over to the ref, taking off his hooding to reveal a tight fitting shirt underneath, still covering the scars a resented so much. König applied bandages to each fist and followed him. Greeting the ref, they gave him a polite nod and entered the ring, where Fender and Velikan already stood. Both ready to fight like they depended on it, they really did depend on it if they wanted to win anything this early. Königs weight bellowed into the ring as gravity looked like it would give into the wood at any moment.

“Fender, Velikan, It's nice to see you both. Give us a good match, yes?” Horangi’s chuckle felt as though it could be heard through the camp, it was quiet, too quiet.

“Don't get too cocky now Horangi, just because you have that beast on your team doesn’t mean you'll win.” Fender barked out, Velikan knew this was a bad choice of words. He also knew they weren't winning this, he knew that the moment both names were called. But he would give König a good fight.

“You assume i'm doing all the work?” König followed orders, he shot his eyes at them like two buckshot bullets, both relentless in there power.

Horangi looked at his partner and took off, throwing a right hook at Fender who was across from him. Still distracted by the glare he was getting thrown his way, Fender didn’t react in time and took the punch like a champ. Velikan took the chance to throw swings, running at König with all the force of his body and ramming into him like a bull, unstoppable. Knocking König to the back of the ring, heavy rope that curled around each side bellowed under his weight. He was lucky he didn’t fall through it, or worse, break it. But this wasn’t a time to think about that. König launched himself back up at Velikan with all the force he could muster. Swinging his left hook to Velikans cranium. The impact knocked him back to his partner, bloodshot eyes met ocean blue. Sweat dripped from König's forehead, running down his nose onto the white mat.

Two brute forces against each other, compared to Fender and Horangi at least. Both of these men were throwing punches back and forth, trying their damndest to hit one another. Even so, Horangi wasn’t easy to catch, the man was light on his feet.

The crowd was chanting names, screaming at the top of their lungs. As punches were thrown back and forth, so was the blood of each man. At some point König had gotten punched in his already broken nose, crimson red dripped from his mouth and fell down his shirt and hands. Liquids from each man coated the mat, none of the injuries so far were that bad, maybe a couple of bruised bones. A swollen eye or two, however, at some point, Horangi had stood back with his partner. Leaning against his arm and whispering in his ear.

“I think we're breaking them, if you can walk up to them and distract them, I'll go behind. Got it?” Horangi met eyes with his partner, König only nodded.

Looking back at his opponents, blood ran down his face as he stepped forward. Glaring menacingly, the raging moose was seeing red and it wanted blood. The duo in front of him stepped back, they had no idea what Horangi had whispered to him. König changed his stance, facing sideways and holding up both of his bloodied knuckles. Quickly, he darted toward them both fists up. Running at them with full force, but right as it seemed he was going to punch, Horangi whipped in front of König and uppercut Fender's jaw. Leaving him bleeding out his jaw, maybe it was broken. No matter what it was, he leaped back and held his chin, Velikan stood back, glancing at everyone in the ring. He kept eye contact with Horangi and König, walking over to his partner.

“Shit bro, you good?” Velikan bent over his friend, grabbing his hand and hauling him off the ground.
“Yes, get me back up, we are going to win.” Fender was determined; he tried his damndest to get back up. His legs shook while he fell forward into the mat. His blood smeared over the white and pink that had already dried from the blood that dripped from Fender already.

“Come on Fender, let's get you to the infirmary. Good job you two, here.” Velikan dropped his partner's hand, walking over to his opponent. Velikan snatched Horangi’s hand and held it up, holding it high like an obelisk in the sky.

“Your winners of the ring!” Velikan screamed as loudly as he could. Everyone could hear him while everyone cheered, hands waved in the air as Velikan half-carried Fender out of the ring. Mumbling something whilst trying to regain his strength. Horangi gave König an intense smile, the adrenaline called both of them like a beautiful song. Both of them shuffled out of the ring, climbing over the ropes that held it up. Pacing over to the bench they once sat on, only to find someone familiar had taken it, Krueger and Nikto. Connected at the hip like they usually were, staring at a screen stuck in Krueger's hand. König panicked; the idea of Krueger seeing him with Horangi outside of the ring concerned him. He didn’t need rumors starting this fast.

König grabbed Horangi’s hand and began rushing past a small bunch of trees, past the bench that they were once on. Besides, this way they could think about their plan better. New actions could be discussed, especially since it was just them two.

“König, where are we going?” Horangi puffed out a small amount of air.
“Just past this treeline, so we can…discuss our next plan.” König spoke quickly.
“That was a good round huh? Good improvising by the way, you definitely horrified them there for a bit.” Horangi stopped and put both his hands on his head, letting his body slowly cool off. Steam lifted off his body like a cloud, white with small bits of water and blood coating his face.

“You’ve got blood in your balaclava, do I also?” Horangi stepped forward, whipping some off the rancid smell of König’s face, his hands were hot with adrenaline. Blood flowed through him like lava, viscous and hot.

He lined König’s eyes with his hands, slowly wiping off all the blood that had accumulated. König felt his hands become heavy, same to his eyelids. It was that feeling again, like he was floating. As though he was suspended in the air by a rope, and he could never come back down. As though all of his worries left him then and there. He could feel it in his fingers, no matter how heavy they felt. Like electricity running through every part of him. Stemming from his hands up to his neck, König shut his eyes. Allowing Horangi to wipe off what had smeared under his eyelids. König wanted to grab his hands, He wanted to tell him to stop. It felt wrong, the pleasure he was getting out of this. Even so, it felt nice. No one had touched his face since he was a young kid, not like this anyway. Sure, inspections were mandatory and on the occasion that he got someone to cut his hair, they would touch part of his face. But not like this, it felt oddly personal.

“You have a bloodied nose and bruised knuckles, besides that you seem fine. You fight well, you fight…with strategy in mind.” König spoke softly, Horangi almost couldn’t hear him. He was quiet like a mouse, and soft cold eyes met dark brown.

“There, that should be the last of it. I bet a lot of that blood wasn’t even yours.” Horangi smiled through his mask.
“Thank you” König felt his way to Horangi’s hand, bringing it back down from touching his face. His hands smelled different; besides the metallic smell of blood, there was something else. Something extremely unfamiliar. Not the burning fire he smelled of earlier, it was calmer. The hints of blue came out in König’s partner. In the storm, there was a small calm. König let go of his partner’s hand and sat down on the ground, running his hands along his thighs.

Horangi quickly followed suit, landing on the ground next to his partner. Looking up at the night sky, it was quieter over here. Less loud, it seemed that way at least. Everyone else was watching the next fight, that and cleaning up the bloody mess they made just a moment ago.

“What's our next plan of action?” König spoke as he looked down towards his partner.
“You like being a battering ram, yes?” Horangi whispered, sitting up.
“Sure” König piped.
“Why only sure?” Horangi inquired.
“Because that's what you want me to do? Right?” König wrapped his arms around his bent knees, staring out at the campfire closest to them.

“Well, yes. But I’d also like it if we won. So, do you think that will work?” He let out his hand, as though he was explaining with his body as well.
“I think we could win that way, you are still bleeding from your nose. You know this, yes?” König pointed to the small trail of blood that dripped from Horangi’s covered nose, leaving a trail in the balaclava. Even in the dark light, it was easy to see the dark red in the fabric.

“It's alright, I can't fix it now.”
“Why not?” König leaned back, fixing his posture. He looked questioningly at his partner, he could fix it somehow? Couldn’t he?
“I'm not going to remove my mask, so I’ll let it clot until the next round.” Horangi turned back to König, letting their eyes meet in the middle.

“That is unwise, you know?” König could tell Horangi was getting annoyed with him.
“What do you propose I do?” Horangi fully turned to König, sitting cross-legged.

“It will stain your mask, then it will reek. And no amount of washing will get that stench out of your mask, trust me. Id know…” König felt the bottom part of his mask with the wrapped hand covered in dried blood.
“What do you want me to do about it? You didn’t answer my question.” Horangi looked at him confused and frustrated.

“We could tell the refs to hold our names for a while and go clean up, I bet they would let us.” König offered.
“And you want me to go and clean off…with you?” Horangi asked, pushing himself off of the ground.
“If you would like to, the base is empty. Everyone is out here or cleaning up, it would be smart to go now, no?” Horangi could tell König was smiling under that mask, it pulled at his eyes when he did. The small crows feet began to form near the corners of his sockets.

Horangi only nodded, following König around the crowd of people. They all reeked of alcohol and fire, smoke. The ashes of the burning flames around camp, slowly falling around each and every person. However, walking farther away from everybody. It felt less humid near base, the cool air brushed against Horangi covered skin. It was an enjoyable feeling. Looking up, he could spot every little star in the sky. No light pollution near base, it was beautiful, and appealing to look at. They walked at a medium pace, it seemed König was enjoying the feeling of the air as much as Horangi was.

“Where are we going? You never technically told me” Horangi stopped, crossing his arms to stare up at his partner.
“Well, I figured you’d want to wash your hood. I was given a sink in my room, I didn't know about you but…we could just go to the laundry room if you’d like?” König held his hands together, the nervous tic he couldn’t seem to let go.

But this time, this time he maintained eye contact with his partner. He was bent over still, trying to make himself seem smaller. No matter how bad Horangi’s eyes were in the dark, he could still make out the slouched figure in front of him. Broad by nature, but pulled down by man. Eyes that gleaned through the dark like a light-house, visible in the darkest of rooms. Only one things about him that Horangi struggled with, that picking of his hands. Visibly worn fingers did nothing but hurt, they looked like they ached. König watched as Horangi slowly hobbled over to him. Hands held out like he was going to hand König something. Except, he didn't. Horangi quickly snatched Königs hand, pulling it away from his body.

“I told you to stop, the next time i see you doing that. It will not end well for you, lets go, i'll follow you.” Horangi looked at the man sternly, it was like he was putting the fear of god into him. Brows furrowed and stance angry.
“Right, yes, I am sorry.” König set his hands to his side, looking down at the ground. Then swiftly turning on his feet, waltzing off to the door.

Still heavy as always, König pushed it open. Now in the light of what the base had to offer, he could see everything in color. Dark red dripped from Horangi’s nose like rain, it didn't seem like it was going to stop.

Perhaps he had broken his nose, or at the most ruptured a big vein. Whatever it was, it didn’t seem as though it would stop. Loud steps were heard around corridors, it felt as though they were the only ones in the building. Their steps echoed like small voices around each corner, dripping could be heard from different rooms. König knew it got echoey, he did however not know it could get this quiet. The dull yellow coming from the lights was exhausting, it gave Horangi a headache often. Especially the buzzing that came from them, they would need to change out these lights soon. Finally, König turned a corner and began unlocking his door.

“You lock your door?” Horangi stood behind him, ready to get out of this hallway.
“Yes, it feels…safer that way.” König thought for a moment. “I do not trust people will not go in and snoop where their noses don't belong.” He opened the door to show.

It was a normal sized room, with 2 doors on either side of the room. Along with, not the normal sized bed for each unit. Horangi was unlucky enough to still have a twin sized bed, but König. König had a nicely sized queen, sure it still wasn’t enough to fit the man. This didn’t mean that it wasn’t nicer than sleeping in something made for small children.

“You have a queen sized bed?” Horangi stated, slowly closing the door behind him.
“Ah, yes, I special ordered one for myself.” König took off the bloodied wraps on his hands.
“Lucky, are you going to wash those first? Along with your mask?” Horangi asked, walking around König’s room to take it all in.

Horangi felt special, it was interesting. Königs room was a pale white, just like every other room in the unit. Concrete walls met a wooden door, along with a small window that hung just off center above him bed. A lamp on top of the dresser next to his bed illuminated small pieces of paper. Closer to the left side of the room a desk stood, another lamp illuminated more papers, small notes sticky notes against random parts of his room.

“I can wait for you if you’d like, while you wash yours I mean.” König sat down on his bed, large hands fell toward his lap like they usually did.
“As long as you don't peak.” Horangi gave König a stern stare before walking into the bathroom.

It was oddly more quiet in his room than usual, more so, it seemed like a mumble when anything made noise. Although, the levels were the same. It seemed off with him alone sitting in his room as though he were a guest. Sitting, waiting patiently. Feeling the need to pick at his hands, do something with himself. While König was busy trying to keep himself busy in his own mind, Horangi was struggling with another problem, his meds were starting to wear off. This, including the mirror that was placed higher in Königs bathroom led to him walking in and looking straight into his own reflection. He could see the small drops of blood that had poured out from each socket, and the flow of crimson red that flowed quickly down his chin. What was he supposed to do? Looking away wasn’t helping, memories were starting to flood in. The gates were open, the duck tape that was holding them together had fallen off, water cold and flowing fast came at him.

Oni hadn’t ever prepared him what to do when he had left, when there was no one else to be there for him. Every little memory was coming back to him, his mother, the destroyed skin laying on the floor in front of him like cloth.

Small shards of glass in his fingers that tingled throughout the entire body, cut up arms and legs that he couldn’t stop thinking about. The warehouse, that was what Horangi remembered the most. Grabbed off the street and thrown into a car that had the stench of cigars and alcohol. A bag put over his face, only able to feel and smell what was going on. Taken to this place, cold and filled with concrete. An abandoned warehouse filled with old medical products. Arguing was ensuing between two people in front of him, he could hear it. They were talking about what they should do with him, how they should “dispose” of him. All of this was coming back to him, all at once. What was he to do? Horangi took a step back and nearly stumbled into the shower, forcing him to see his reflection again. However, this time, it wasn’t Horangi. Kim was in the mirror, the man he once used to be glared back at him with little to no remorse. Horangi slowly slid off his balaclava, letting it fall limp to the cold and wet floor.

Stepping closer, he glanced back and forth between his old reflections perfect face. What he was blessed with as a child, what had not been ruined just yet. And the eyes that still had life in them, were not the cold black they were now.

But that wasn’t him in the mirror, no. That was a demon, it couldn’t be him. Kim was long dead, Horangi remained. And yet, here sat a man staring at his reflection with such intention that it seemed hours had gone by. Horangi studied every feature of the man in the mirror, it truly was him. Past him, in a different light, no marks, no gambling debt, no unhappiness. Still, it seemed off, like something wasn’t as perfect as it once was. Suddenly, his reflection spoke. Quietly at first, nothing could be heard. Like speaking into water while having headphones, no sound. But quickly it turned into retched screaming.

“It's your fault, how could you Horangi? You’ve ruined us…”

Chapter Text

König had waited for twenty minutes. The small notebook on his nightstand had caught his attention, but that didn’t explain why it was taking so long. No sounds could be heard from the bathroom, not that König was trying to listen. He figured washing the blood out wouldn’t take this long, it should take maybe ten at the most. Abruptly, a loud thud could be heard from the restroom. The water began to run, and steam was spilling out of the bottom near the seem of the door. König thought about intervening, but didn’t know if he should. Would it be wise? He promised Horangi he wouldn’t peek, but he needed to ensure his friend was alright.

König could hear murmuring from the other side of the door, a small voice held its ground against the running water. Footsteps could be heard back and forth, almost in rhythm, like an animal pacing in its cage.

Precipitation began collecting on the top of the wooden door, slowly falling down its sides and front. The murmuring began to get louder, the once small voice had started to talk. Not in English, no. The language was unknown to König, He’d never heard it before.
Aggressive syllables met his ears, it was Korean. This he should have known by the man standing in the bathroom, but how was he supposed to know if the man knew more than one language? Or, perhaps, why he seemed to be getting increasingly louder. Maybe he had torn the mask, maybe he needed another one.
König stood, pacing his way over to the door. Should he knock? Should he just speak instead? Horangi told him not to peek, that seemed too personal. Like he would be crossing a boundary, instead, he led his hand up to the door. Lightly tapping on the door, it let out a hollow sound. Suddenly, the talking stopped, and the water shut off. The once loud voice sounded like there was no one there.

“Horangi, are you alright?” König pressed his ear against the door, trying to pick up any noise he could.

Even so, there was no response. Nothing but the cold, empty darkness answered back. König asked once more, this time louder. Merely trying to get a response out of his partner, but. There was no answer, still no answer. Finally, he knocked one more time.

“Horangi, I need you to answer me.” A worried chuckle came out of him, a small sound.

Quick mumbling in Korean could be heard, fast and worried. Slowly fading back, this worried König. He wasn’t getting a real answer. He needed a real answer, or else he would go in. König didn’t want to invade his friend's privacy like this; it felt wrong. Like he was pushing his luck too much, but with nowhere else to turn, he asked one more time.

“If you don't answer me, I’m going to come in.” König spoke sternly, placing his hand on the doorknob. However, it didn’t budge. Small clicks could be heard as he turned it.

Horangi had locked it, but König kept his promises. The nice thing about this door, it had a lock that used a key. Sure, he never used the key. König would take a twisted old paperclip to lock and unlock the door. Losing the key long ago, this was his only option. Searching through the laundry he needed to wash, and finding the pair of jeans he usually kept it in. Rushing back over to the door, he began to pick it. The lock wasn’t hard to pick, slowly turning his tool a couple of times worked wonders for him. Finally, he heard a small click on the other side of the door. It had come loose from its chains, König spoke again.

“I'm coming in, I won't look at you. Okay?” König slowly opened the door.

The light had been turned off, it seemed as though no one was here in the first place, and yet. A mask lay on the sink, still soaked in blood and sweat.
He could smell blood seeping on the cool tiles, small droplets of dark red. The shower looked like someone had run into it, leaving part of its curtain hanging by a thread.
Small stains bled into it, lighter in color compared to those on the floor. It smelled fresh, metallic like metal. His boots clicked slowly while walking on the ceramic tiles, they always seemed to bellow under his weight. As though the floor were going to fall in right then and there. The small light coming into the room lit reflected against his mirror, it was dark. And his friend was nowhere in sight, perhaps he had run out the window.

Flicking the light switch on, a now very small Horangi sat in the corner. Clutching his hair in his hands, Tight and round like a ball curled next to the sink. Sunken and red eyes stared blankly at the tile floor. Pupils dilated like they had just been flash banged, blood poured from one of his sockets. It was a small trail followed by a small cut in his under eye. König could see the left side of his face, hot and red.

“Horangi, are you alright.” König was met with a panicked state, eyes darting up and down the man.
He began mumbling something in Korean again, fully turning his head to König. He could see a scar that traced along his left eye and into his eyebrow. And the scar that took up the rest of his face couldn’t be ignored either.

The worried look on König’s face turned into a mix of sympathy and pity. He felt horrible, like there was an iron weight in his stomach. Not only was this an invasion of privacy, but the emotions that ran through him were so fast he didn’t know how to react. His heart raced faster than it seemed it ever had before. He hadn’t kept his promise of not looking, he hadn’t kept his promise, hadn't kept his promise to not come in. This seemed like it was for the best, König slowly came down to the ground. Sitting on one knee, the man tried to seem smaller than he is. Horangi looked panicked, cowering in the corner like a small child. He clung to the wall like it was his lifeline, a face mixed with terror and dread gleaning at him. Small pupils continued to dart around, even when König had hit the ground. Slowly, König began to hold out his hand.

“What is wrong? I want to help you, let me help you.” Furry met his eyes, when König moved even an inch. Horangi would flinch, small mumbling could be heard. His mother tongue was fierce and robust. It came quickly out of his mouth in small intervals.

Small tears fell down Horangi’s face, mixing with the light red that covered the scar racing across his face. Questions came to mind for König, lots of them. How did he get the scar? Did he deserve it? So, so many more were coming to him. Even so, these were not questions for now. Right now, he needed to focus on his partner.
What he could do to help, to fix whatever was happening. He slowly began crawling over to his partner, any sign of flinching or fright in his eyes would be met with slower or nearly non existent movement from König.

König was close enough now to touch Horangi, letting his hand reach out to his partner's leg. Suddenly, Horangi screamed. He screamed loud enough for the rest of the base to hear if anyone were listening. Not just a scream, he was screaming words. More jumbled Korean that König couldn’t understand, kicking and fighting. König moved forward more, trying to reach his partner after flinching off.

“Please let me he-” A swift kick met his stomach, louder shrieking came from the man opposite of him. König didn’t know he could make such noises, it sounded like his insides were being cut up by knives. His throat was dry and coarse, leaving it red and swollen.
König stumbled back, trying his best not to be kicked again. It was painful, especially after it connected with one of his broken ribs. It felt like Horangi had shattered it, that was doubtful, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t painful. Still screaming, he backed farther into the corner. Now at the farthest end of the bathroom, pulling at his shoulder. Horangi cried harder, full tears fell down his face like rain. His hair, sticky from the sweat that had dried along with his hands.

König reached over to the light, turning it back off. Horangi may not be able to see with the dim moonlight that came through the window. But König could, he could see how his eyes shimmered against the reflection of the tiles. How blood and tears mixed and coated his face.

König could also see how he stopped screaming, it had left him, and went back down to a quiet murmur. Now full pupils glanced back and forth at him, slower this time. Rapid breaths turned into calm-paced ones. Even so, he was still huddled in the corner, Horangi looked like he had seen a murder, Maybe even saw someone kill his parents. König knew that look all too well, wide eyes with a sunken and dehydrated face. König let gravity take him back down to the ground, meeting with the cold tiles once again. He looked sluggish, letting his palms touch each tile slowly. Creeping towards the man in front of him, Horangi couldn’t see him very well. Well, that's what König thought.

He had no idea if Horangi could see anything, or if he was seeing something completely different to his eyes. Surely the man wouldn’t be this panicked if he had been bleeding, König knew that all too well. Sprawled out on the tile, he began to crawl over to his partner. Letting the porcelain floor touch his knees and shins.
Still cowering in the corner, König sat next to him. No sound came from either of them, he didn’t ask questions. Didn’t poke or prod at him, it seemed he had been through enough. Small stitches of light coated Horangi’s face, bright skin met the moon. Dark pupils dilated and contracted as Horangi observed his partner, like he was watching his every move.

König ran a hand around Horangi’s back, he was soaked in sweat. Cold and damp, like a rug that had just gotten a spill on it. He flinched, but Horangi didn't move away, the tears around his eyes had dried. Leaving a cold and sunken face in their place, tattered with scars across his left side.

This was turned from König; however, he could only see how small droplets of water were drying on his face. Leaving stains like a chemical burn, small, but noticeable for someone of Horangi stature. König began rubbing circles into his back, counterclockwise. Slow and predictable, tensed muscles began to relax.
Letting each roundabout create more ease between the two. He was shaking, bones rattled through the entire body like an open skeleton. Suddenly, Horangi turned swiftly to him. Dark eyes met bright blue, but, König was sure he couldn’t see in this light. And yet, worried and somehow relieved at the same time. His partner moved closer, fully on his side now, his arm touching Königs waist and chest. Tight, wound up legs were still close to his body. Leaving no question on letting them go.

“Horangi, are you alright?” König let out a deep sigh, the idea of him getting kicked and screamed at again by his friend did not seem enjoyable.
“You won't let them hurt me, right?” a small voice spoke, this put a bullet through Königs chest.
“No, I will not.” König led his other hand around Horangi's front, continuing the small circles on his back. But now, he brought Horangi into a sort of half hug.

“Why did I do this?” This wasn’t a question, this was a statement. Not a breath of air left the man, he had no answer.
“Do what Katze?” König ran his circles in the other direction, it seemed soothing to his partner. The tiny touch that he was allowed.

“I hurt them, us, why did I do this.” Tears began to peak back into his eyes, falling down slowly down the path of his face.
“Don’t think about that now, let's focus on other things,” König quietly whispered in his ear.
“Like what…?” Horangi turned his head to his partner, lost eyes looked into König for some sort of reason. Only to find nothing but sorrow and pity, Horangi was not back. This was still something different, something out of the ordinary. He looked off, innocence was in his eyes, betrayal, hate. Hate was a description he could find, perhaps it was self-hate. Perhaps it was hate for whoever did this to him.

“Favorite food.” Subject change was something König had learned how to do well, from his father, to the crowds he had to control. Small children not understanding their parents were gone, to delusional men on drugs. It was easy to distract if you knew how.

Horangi had started rambling about something, but König wasn’t focusing on that right now. Slowly, he planted his right foot on the ground and lift his partner up by way of both his arms. Horangi now sat on his chest, head resting on König's shoulder.
Still on about food in his hometown, König held under his armpits, leaving Horangi’s feet to dangle limp. It was like a long and warm hug.
The light in König’s room was weak, he figured it would be dark enough his partner wouldn’t freak out. König was staying surprisingly calm during this, the feeling of being watched was nowhere to be seen. Only a dark pair of eyes laid themselves upon him.

Still talking, König brought Horangi out to his bed. He was sluggish, he was deadweight in König’s arms. Like a small child being carried to bed, König set him down on the side of the bed. Tired eyes began to shut, heavy eyelids struggled to stay open.

“I'm going to go and get something to eat, okay?” König bent down eye to eye with his friend.
“You said you wouldn't let them get me, they are gonna catch me, I know it.” Meek eyes between furrowed brows stared at the ground.
“I won't let them get you, I promise, I'll lock the door.”
“And shut the window.” Horangi looked up, pointing to the open window above his bed.
“Yes, I can shut the window.” König flipped down the small latch that stopped the light from coming into his room, left in its place was the yellow buzzing coming from the ceiling.

König quickly walked out his room, locking the door behind him. Finding the kitchen would be easy, not encountering people could be more difficult. People stopping him at this time of night would not be preferable, even if the “mandatory sparring match” was on. He had no intention of going back to it, especially without a partner; they had won a match, that was good enough for him now. Especially with his friend lying broken and afraid in his room. No, he needed to find something to eat quickly, then get out.

The kitchen was empty, no one in sight. He could just find a box of crackers and make some warm tea. That would be best for Horangi right now: fluids and carbs, fluids for his dehydration. And crackers for the pill he would sneak into it, he needed Horangi out like a light.

Slipping melatonin in the crackers or the tea would go best, handing it to him would not.
Finding a small teapot in the cupboard, he began heating up water.
Now the real question was if anyone had crackers, it would be better to check in with someone first, but he didn’t have time for that. The stove was on and encountering someone did have its time and place, that time and place being later with a wad of cash and an apology.
Large hands rummaged around each cupboard, finally finding a small box of saltine crackers. He was sure it wouldn’t taste the best, although there wasn’t much of a better option.

“You’re supposed to be fighting, with your partner” A familiar voice called behind him, König froze, Krueger. He stood in the doorway, leaning against its frame. Sniper hood and all on, this would be fun.

“I'm busy, Krueger, can't you tell?” König snapped back, turning around. Irritation could be heard in his voice.
“Where is your partner anyway?” Krueger began walking toward him, pointing menacingly at his face. He was being snooty, to get on König’s nerves again. Trying to rile him up, get a rise out of König.

“Cleaning up a bloody nose, it could be broken.” König leaned against the counter, crossing his arms in front of his hunched over body.
“Why isn’t he in the infirmary then?” A piercing silence fell between the two men, leaving with it a trail of thoughts in Königs head.
How could he get out of this, he didn’t want Krueger to assume he was with him, that would not end well. Perhaps he could go around the question, make Krueger switch subjects.

“Well, how do you know he isn’t?” Turning back around, König found a medium-sized mug out of the cupboard. Bringing it down to the small teapot filled with hot water. He had already laid out a peppermint tea bag on the counter, letting it sit limp on the marble.

“I took Nikto there, after he got his shit beat in by some team. The team that took your place in the ring, mind you.” Krueger wasn’t just cocky. He was angry, furious even.
“You think you would have won against me?” A chuckle was heard from Königs balaclava, his stomach moved up and down. Slowly pouring the scalding water into his cup and placing the tiny bag of tea leaves into it. He held out a plate of crackers and tea, one in each hand.

“Who’s that for?”

The tension in the small room couldn’t be cut with a knife. König was getting tired of Krueger’s tactics, he needed to get back to his friend.
He needed to make him feel better, what he really needed to do was lie. Lie for the greater good of his partner, lie for himself. König’s poker face was the best, but that was the nice thing about wearing a ratty old t-shirt and a mask, no one could ever see how shitty of a Lier you were.

“For me, now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go and eat.” König, walking past the man opposing him. Stopped in the middle of the room, side-eyeing him from his tall height.

“If you don’t keep your nose out of my business, we are going to start to have problems.” Light blue eyes between darker brows stared down at the man.
Before walking out of the kitchen, leaving behind the small teapot and a note for whomever crackers he had stolen.

The hallways felt cramped, mutilated yellow coated each wall beside him. The buzzing of the lights rang in his ear as echoey footsteps swiftly walked down each corridor. The stench of old paint and gas fumes filled the air, along with the small food that was placed in his hand.

Drawing’s and painting’s hung against the walls, all old, all not very important. They still brought life to these miserable hallways, dumbing down the horrible colors that coated the walls and floors. Concrete floors that were always off center, line’s that separated them cracked from too much use. This place was old and worn out, it was easy to tell. Even so, finding his small room. He knocked again, unlocking it with the small piece of metal he used to lock it. A gust of clean air blew in his face, small particles of dust flew around him like dancers to a beautiful song.

Still, his partner sat on his bed. Now hunched over, his hands limp in his lap while eyes filled with lead tried to stay open. Stepping in, now fleeting eyes darted around the room. Trying to search for where the noise was coming from, pinpointing who was making it.

“Its just me, Horangi.” Quietly closing the door behind him and locking it, his room felt nice, it felt like home. Right now, someone was in his “home”, the place where he could be himself without other’s judging.

“You know, when i fully come to, i hope I'm not angry at you.” his knees came back up to his chest, hugging them tightly to his body.
“You know, i hope so too.” König sat the small plate of crackers down on the bedside table next to his bed, along with the cup. Small eyes watched every move, but he didn’t feel watched, like someone was judging his every move, no.
He felt like he was being seen, like he was doing something good. Not just something for a company, but something from his own heart for another human being. König picked up a small cracker from the plate, sitting on the ground opposite of his partner.

“You should eat something, here, try this.” König held out the tiny piece of food, offering it to Horangi.
“Mmm, okay.” Horangi reluctantly took the cracker, holding against his still held together knees.
“You aren't going to drug me, are you?” Horangi let his knees fall back down, looking König in his eyes once more. Dread filled him, the idea of being “put to sleep” did not seem enjoyable. Or maybe it did, maybe that was for the best.

“I was going to give you melatonin, that way we can talk about this when you are…available.” The giant stood, walking over to his still darkly lit bathroom.

“Am i staying here tonight?” Horangi began slowly snacking on his cracker, bringing small pieces up to his mouth.

König was not expecting that question, how was he supposed to answer? Would that be professional? Is that…legal? He didn’t want to get either of them in trouble, sure they left the shitty double spar match, but that didn’t mean they would get in trouble, besides. König had to take care of his friend, he couldn’t let him bleed all over the place, not to mention.
He had seen Nikto and Krueger in the same bedroom multiple times, just because it was two different people didn’t mean it was wrong, right?
He could say yes, he could sleep on the floor. This is why he had extra blankets and pillows in his closet, along with clothes that didn’t fit him.
König grabbed the bottle of pills from his bathroom sink, letting them sit in his pocket. Walking back out to the bedroom, he answered Horangi’s question.

“Do you want to?” He answered his question with another question, good enough.
“They will catch me if i leave, thell come for me in the night.” Horangi still bit off tiny pieces of the crackers he had been given. Worried eyes looked blankly into the carpet floor.

“Here, take this Katze.” König handed him a small pill from his pocket and the now warm teacup.
“Im tired.” Horangi took the pill like a champ, swallowing it with a small sip of the tea.
“I would be too, if was going through what you are.” König sat down beside him, his bed bellowed at there weight combined.
Small coils could be heard bending and bowing under them.

“Horangi, let's go to bed, yeah?” König rubbed circles into his back again, slowly in the counterclockwise he had started with. A small hum could be heard from the other man, leaning back into König’s hand.
“I am cold, i am…soaking wet.” Horangi lifted each of his arms, both coated in a small line of sweat.

“Oh, yes, here.” König quickly made his way over to the door opposite of the bathroom. Pulling out one of the hoodies that was even big on him, along with three sets of blankets and two pillows. And lastly, a well fitted size of sweats. They weren’t big on him, they were nearly too small. But on Horangi, well he could fit in them perfectly.

Kongi laid out each thing on his bed, all in a certain order. Specifically first to last, handing the clothes to his friend.

“Here, you can wear these. Ill go and change in the bathroom, you don’t have to go back in there.” König stood before him, a night in shining armor. Perhaps a night in black clothing coated in blood.

Horangi only nodded, feeling the fabric of the hoodie with his hands, it was soft. It looked like a warm hug, comforting and enjoyable.
König figured this would be a good time to change, clean up the rancid bathroom and clean off his friend. Blood still stained his, oddly handsome face. Thinking that however, felt wrong. He couldn’t think such things in a time like this, he needed to focus. No matter how fast this focus was leaving him, drip by drip, his will to keep going was walking away.

The bathroom was filthy, drops of blood coated his tile floor. The smell of metal filled his nostrils, along with hot steam that floated to the top of the bathroom. König found a wash rag in the bottom drawer of his cabinet, bringing it up to the hot water of his sink. Scrubbing away dried fluids against the small corner Horangi had sat in, they were cacked to the floor like calcium.

Finally, König scrubbed all of what he could off the tile floor, leaving a faded pink in its place. Dim lights lit the mirror that, now, had a small crack in it. Barely noticeable by the human eye, but when you're looking for it, it was quite obvious.

Changing into his night time clothes, they were more comfortable than the sweaty and tight pieces he was wearing before. A large hoodie, that was again special ordered for him, and a larger pair of shorts that reached his knees. Theoretically, he had been in there long enough that Horangi had changed. Even so, there was still a small chance he hadn’t, that would be more than awkward for both of them. He reined the wash rag and ran hot water over it once more, it scalded his skin. Burning like a brazen bull, boiling the dead skin off his hands. It was nice in a weird way, like having a sip of whisky to take the edge off.

Peaking out of the bathroom and swiftly turning off the dim lights in the room. His partner sat quietly on his bed, discarded old clothes lay on the floor. Bloodied and cold, Horangi sat with blood still pouring out of his eye.

“Here katze, let me help.” König sat on his knees, pulling his partners face closer to him and dabbing on the blood that coated his face. Horangi was no longer tense, all the muscles in his body relaxed.

The rag against his skin felt amazing, the scar on Horangi’s felt as though it would melt off like butter, merely slide off of him. Maybe then he wouldn’t be fucked up, maybe then he wouldn’t be sitting in his friends room taking up time and space.
He wished Oni was here, he wished König didn’t have to help him. He wished he could be normal, that he hadn’t acquired all that debt, maybe then he wouldn’t only have half a mind and be sitting in an acquaintances room.
Even so, we aren’t in that reality, no, we are in the reality where Horangi gained debt. Then gained these horrific scars that mapped his face, they were hot like an iron to his skin when he thought of it. Even so, the part of his brain that was working felt strangely at home in the small room.
Like a warm hug that had no real intention of letting go, perhaps it was the wet rag, or the comfortable sweater. Whatever it was, it was a nice feeling in all of the black void that engulfed him.

“There, all better.” Suddenly, the nice warm feeling of the rag was gone. Leaving a cold wetness on his face, he was still bleeding. Horangi couldn’t remember how he had cut himself, the images got too vivid before he could remember.

“You’re still bleeding, here, just hold this to your face. I will go grab a bandage.” König left the rag across his face, waiting for him to take it. Slowly, Horangi’s hand came up to grab the rag, sweeping against Königs. He kept the rag to his face, flush and warm against his cold skin. König had grabbed a box of bandages and anti-infection spray. This was going to sting, both of them knew this would hurt.

König sat back down on his knees, removing Horangi’s hand, grabbing the rag back and pulling it back down to his lap. Holding it there on his leg, spraying a small amount of a piece of gauze and wiping it across the cut, making sure to really get it into every open piece of skin. Horangi winced, it stung like no other. This was to be expected of course, but it seemed to hurt more than it usually would. Brows furrowed and his left canines showing out the top of his mouth, it was painful.

“I am sorry, i know that must hurt.” König apologized.
“It is alright, i am fine.” Horangi stayed calm. Gripping the small piece of fabric in his hands.
“There, we are all done.” König let go of his face and hand, placing a medium sized bandage on the side of his cheek, letting it rest before setting his hands down to the floor.

“Go to sleep now, okay?” König asked quietly.
“Can i see your face.” Horangi brought his hand up to König’s eye, leaving it hang before him like a offering. The tiger wanting to see the king for who he truly was.

Silence fell between them, König didn’t know how to answer. Sure he did owe Horangi something for breaking two promises in one night, but that didn’t mean he didn’t worry. What would he think of his torn up face, the ugly cleffed lip and double canines that came with it. How would he react to the retched scar that traced his under eye down to his cheek, he would be disgusted with him.
König was an unbearable sight, something to not be looked at. Even so, there was a small part of him that wanted to be seen. He wanted someone to look at him and see hope, see mercy. Perhaps this was a good idea, he had seen Horangi’s face after all.
König closed his eyes against the hand that nearly touched him, leaning in to nearly touch it. But, never getting too close, eyebrows furrowed, König wanted to feel the warm hands against his face.

“You wont tell anybody, right?” A meek voice came from behind his mask, small like a drop of water.
“No” Horangi moved his down to the end of his mask, pulling up on a section of it. “I would not do such a thing.”

A strong hand grabbed his wrist, this was new for König, this was uncomfortable for him. Blue eye’s pierced through his soal, leaving him with a bullet wound that needed to be filled. Slowly, König let go of his wrist, tilting his head up for better removal.
This didn’t mean König was having a good time, no, he hated this. The feeling off fabric leaving his skin to the cold air, it left a pit in his stomach, something that was not natural for him. Closing his eyes, maybe it was better if he didn’t think about it being gone. Afterall, he wasn’t a completely different person under all of that fabric, he was still himself.
Just a different version, the version who was violated by his father, the version that was used to being “home.” A man who was known for being a “king,” but still being a small child under all those scars and burns.

Horangi pulled the rest of it off, leaving König quickly staring at the ground. Strawberry blond covered the top of his head. A light blond with small orange streaks in it, it was very pretty. This was all Horangi could see. König had moved so fast that looking at his face was nearly impossible.

“You said i could look.” Horangi snooted.
“You are looking.” König said quickly, glancing to different parts of his carpet floor. “Your face König, not just your hair. Albeit, this is very pretty” Horangi ran his hands through König’s hair, letting them fall at his crown. Funny, the man nicknamed “king” had a crown for a part, along with loose curls that fell to what Horangi could only guess was his eyebrows.

“You have curly hair, look at that.” Horangi ran a finger through one of the loose curls, letting it string around his finger before letting go.
“Let me see.” Horangi demanded
“I do not want you to look at me” König gripped the ground.
“You said i could.” He crossed his arms, leaning back.

This was true, König did say he could look. And Horangi had promised he wouldn’t tell anyone what was under the mask, but how was he supposed to believe him. That didn’t matter now, he supposed.
What mattered now was that he had to keep his promise, Horangi could look. A large sigh was heard before he slowly looked up, hooded eyes and a cleffed lip seared at Horangi. He was beautiful, the botched job with his lip made a scar that lead up to his nose. An even larger scar that lined the bottom of his eye down to his cheek, along with freckles. For König being more blond than orange, he had his fair share of light brown freckles that colored his face.

“Where did this come from?” Horangi traced his cheek.
“A story for another time, maybe when you are fully here.” König still refused to look at Horangi in the eyes, staring at the ground. “Worse than you expected?” König asked jokingly.

“I don't know what i was excpecting, but this is pleasant.” Horangi kept his left hand in his lap, leaving the other one to explore König’s face. He traced his cleffed lip, leading up to his under eye. An eye that still refused to look at him, an eye that was nervous and frantic. Even yet, König leaned into Horangi’s touch.
He brought both of his hands up to the mans face, letting his left hold his hair. The other sat along Königs cheek, holding it in his hand like a fruit. His size truly shined through here, the man’s hand could only take up so much of König’s face. Leaving the rest to be uncovered.

König let out a sound from the back of his throat, something between and hum of enjoyment. Then a sound of confusion came, thick with his accent.
“Why are you doing that?” König shut his eyes, letting his head fall into his partner's hand. “Am I not allowed to touch you? You did not say I couldn’t.”

Horangi let go of the man, leaving König wanting, pleading. He stared at Horangi with need, he didn’t know how to answer his question. He wanted him to keep going, his hand clamped in his hair. Just this would be fine enough for him, but he didn’t want to seem desperate, no.

“You are fine, i just…do not understand.” König continued to look between furrowed brows and hooded eyes. “Why are you touching me?” He continued to question.

“I don't know, this feels like a privilege. Maybe I should savor the moment, who knows. Perhaps when i come to, I wont remember doing this” Horangi continued, “or maybe I'll only remember it by how my hands moved” He held his hand up once more, letting it again nearly touch Königs brows. But just not close enough, König closed his eyes once more. Letting the non-existent feeling of Horangi’s hand brush against him.

“You should sleep, those pills will kick in soon.” König finally touched his head against Horangi’s hand, letting it rest against his temple.
Smaller hands once again found their way to König’s face, leading him to be drawn in once more. They wrapped around König like a snake with its prey, and he let it happen. In fact, he drew closer to his partner. Letting his head go limp in his hands, it felt nice, it felt normal. Or, at least, it felt as normal as it could.
Even so, that feeling of floating continued to come back to him time and time again. It was cold like an ocean, waves rolled over him slowly at a nice pace. König could feel it in his face, it moved down to his chest. Rattling his bones, he began trembling against Horangi’s skin. Shivers creeping up his spine, it was an odd feeling. Something that he hadn’t ever felt before this was nice. In an odd way.

“It doesn’t seem like you want me to go to bed, it seems like you're having as much fun as I am.” Horangi left König’s face again. “Even so, I'm exhausted. So, i guess you are right.”
He made a motion with his hands, gesturing to the small blanket that lay next to him.

“What do you want me to do with this?” König stared at the coverings, he hadn’t really thought that far. They were a tight roll of fabric, soft and ready to be used. “You could use it?”

“How about i shove it up your ass.” Horangi lay down, turning on his side away from his partner. The tone he used was a mix of annoyance and anger, he really was tired. “Sleep well, Katze.”
König stood, walking over to the small cutout on the ground filled with soft fabric.

This would not be very comfortable, sure König had slept on the floor many, many times. This still did not take away from the fact that at “home”, it was a cold and hard floor. No matter how carpeted it was, it still managed to mess with his back.

He lay down, hugging the pillow in front of him. He was putting a lot of trust in his friend, to be sleeping near him. But this seemed to come naturally, like it was normal and not different at all. It was still hot in there, small amounts of steam piled upon his ceilings. Humid like the middle of June in the States, this didn’t affect Horangi like it did König. He was hot, a little too hot for comfort.
His hair felt like it was sticking to his forehead, and the Hoodie he wore was hot as well. Horangi on the other hand, enjoyed how hot it was.
He was used to more humid climates, it was usually very cold in his room. Stacking blankets on blankets was the only way he could be at the ideal temperature.

König could hear slow, controlled breaths from his partner across the room, he was fast asleep. That melatonin had kicked in like no other, leaving him with a limp-bodied friend in his bed. Tired and angry, maybe König could fix that, just maybe.

Chapter Text

It had become cooler, the humid night turned into a misty morning. Leaving König and Horangi in its wake. Beams of sun rays spilled into the room from the small window König had opened in the night. They splayed into every corner of the room, leaving a grey smog behind them.

The fog was beautiful with the sun shining through it, small dewdrops found their way on König’s windowsill. It was a peaceful morning, people were either asleep, training, or eating with comrades.
Even so, it was silent outside of his tiny room. Nothing but birds sang and cars drove by. The sun mapped both of their faces, leaving a yellow streak across them.
Even in the cool room, Horangi was content. Now sprawled out on the entire bed, he lay on his back. Arms and legs extended to take up the entire bed and then some. It had been a long time since he slept in such a massive bed.
A large smile crossed from ear to ear on his face, he was truly happy.

He slowly opened his eyes, turning on his side he grabbed the small blanket next to him. He hadn’t slept all that long, but it was restful. Like it was the first nap he’s ever had, fuzzy and warm.

But these weren’t just feelings, not just things inside his head. No, these were happening right now. He could feel with scarred fingertips each piece of fabric in his hands, letting it fall down to his wrist. The pillow he was under wasn’t his, even so, it was very familiar. It smelled like vanilla and Saturday mornings with his family, or what used to be his family.

Like he was with his grandmother on her porch, happy and playing with the bugs that would crawl on him. A small child in the sun, even though he was not a summer child, he did enjoy the sun. But this left him with questions, he was not in his room. He was alone as far as he knew, in a stranger's bed. The last thing he remembered was the smell of metal in his nose, thick like blood. Suddenly, Horangi came to. He jolted up on the bed, lifting himself with his arms and examining the room. Confused, he began moving his feet to the ground. Fuzzy carpet met his body, This truly was a new place. The room was not very well lit, with blank walls and nothing but a closet with desks. Not to mention the small nightstand next to the bed, but besides that, there was nothing.

Besides a, now curled up, König lying on the ground in a ball. Holding a pillow tightly to his chest. Horangi walked over to him, making no sound. Examining him, he was shirtless and hoodless. Panic began running through him. What had happened last night?

“Hey asshole, wake up.” Horangi pushed König’s shoulder with his foot. “What the hell am I doing here?” Horangi continued to question.

Still asleep like a baby, König sat as still as possible. Controlled breaths only came out of him, not a sound or a movement. He was like a sleeping giant, not to be woken unless needed. This was an exception, Horangi needed him to wake his big ass up and answer his questions. Horangi pushed one more time, this time bending down to his partner's level. Letting his hand shove König’s shoulder. Suddenly, wide eyes met Horangi ’s. Worried and confused, he tensed.

“You need to answer me.” Horangi stood back up, standing over the man before him. He looked angry, he looked upset. Rightfully so, being woken up in an unfamiliar room would do the same to König. This didn’t mean König wasn’t scared about what Horangi was thinking.

“Where is your mask? And, where is my mask? And why am I in this god forsaken room in your bed?” He was panicking now, eyes darting around each corner of the room. “Answer me,” He shouted, arms raised at König.

König stood up, back and knees popping while doing so. He was tired, a sunken face met icy blue eyes. No matter Horangi 's anger, he had to admit he enjoyed looking at him. A foggy memory came to him from last night, a busted lip and a scarred under-eye met him. Upset still, he crossed his arms. Horangi felt exposed, like those eyes were staring into his soul. König still towered over him, hunched over and arms dangling like a limp child.

“I didn’t think you would be awake so soon.” He rubbed his eyes, voice scratchy and sore. “This must be confusing for you, I am sorry.” König continued to maintain eye contact, he hadn’t looked away from the man across from him at all.

“You aren’t answering me. What happened last night.” Horangi was losing his temper, not getting answers would do that for him once in a while. Sure, some things should go unsaid, but this needed to be talked about. He was not ready to wake up in a random room with a…Partner? Was König his partner? An acquiescence, perhaps, even so. The rage bubbled in him like a boiling pot, about to spill over with frustration. Nothing was adding up, nothing was making any sense and all he wanted was an explanation. One that would suffice more than “I dont know.”

“You were acting…strange last night. I didnt know what else to do.” König finally broke eye-contact, staring at the ground.

“What do you mean weird?” Realization hit Horangi like a truck, fast and with force. “What type of weird?” panic was beginning to set in, he hadn’t had an episode…had he? He felt normal, like it was just another day. The looming feeling of his past was no longer on his shoulder’s, it was not as braud anymore. Eyes widening, he only stood and looked at the man across from him. No answer was being heard from his partner, not a singular sound.

“König.” Horangi spoke under his breath, looking up from furrowed brows. “Answer my question.” König’s eyes were sporadic, not wanting to focus on his partner's eyes he avaided contact with him.

“I dont know, you were…different. You panicked, like a small child.” The last part came out quietly, he was trying to explain the best he could. “You didn’t seem like you, like a mirrored version. Angry and loudspoken.”

König looked between the ground and the man’s eyes, bouncing back and forth like a ball to cement. “Was I supposed to take you to the infirmary?” König held his hands out pleading. “I just wanted to make you feel better.” His lip quivered, he felt small. Like a little boy who had done something he shouldn’t of. He looked through his wavy blond hair, trying to find some form of reason in his partner's eyes. Something to make him believe what he had done was okay, to make him believe it was for the best. Even through this, he could see nothing. Not even hatred was seen in him, only questioning was found. It was like a fond moment of realization between them. Neurons connecting in both minds at the same time, thinking the same thing.

“What did I tell you?” Horangi stepped back, sitting down on the soft bed behind him. He only glanced down at the ground, brows furrowed. “How much do you know? You must have questions.”

König stared at the man, sure questions did come to mind. Even so, they didn’t seem as important as trying to understand why Horangi was so upset. Perhaps it was because of the ruined mask, or the lack of privacy. Maybe that was it, he had seen his face. Pale like the blooming moon and dark like a stallion. Torn with scars that mapped his face like a beautiful pattern. And the smallest freckle on the bridge of his nose, not big enough to see from far away. But up close, it was just a small dot that ran across him.

König sat on his knees once more, right infront of his partner as he did the night before. Quiet and waiting a moment to gather what to say.

“I only want to know what you wish to tell me.” He looked up at Horangi , soft eyes like a blurry blue sky. “If you want me to know nothing, i can forget this happened and i will keep quiet.” small smile lines wrapped around his eyes.

“But you have already seen it, me, my face, if you could call it that.” He lifted a hand to his face, feeling the scar that sat there. “I just do not understand, how are you so calm?” He continued. “It doesn’t make any sense, you are not making sense.”

“You are not the only one who knows of scars.” König turned his head, showing the eye that still left a mark trailing down his cheek. “They are painful, and they remain on us, yes. Both in body and mind, but you can not change what you have.” König continued, turning up to show his lip.

“I could ask you the same question, how are you so calm around this.” Canines showing through, he lifted his other lip. Showing both pairs of sharp teeth. “Besides” he said again. “Who am I to judge a soldir by his battle scars?” They were symbols of him, he was a beast. Fitting the description nearly perfectly. Even so, he continued.

“I believe the story makes the man, and you are a good man. Even if you have a mangled face like mine.” König could only give a hopeful smile through sad eyes.

Trying to make the situation better emotionally was not something he was used to, it took time and effort. Both of these things König struggled with, but now. Well he was spitting out words with meaning like they were written on a sheet of paper before him, letting them fall off his tongue like his home language.
His bright eyes only squinted and stared at the man before him, waiting for an answer patiently. He sat as though he were a small child waiting for dinner, content and happy. König wanted to know how his partner was feeling, he wanted to know how to make things feel better for him.

“No one has ever called me mangled before, i dont know wether to be upset or surprised.” Horangi smiled quietly at his hand that sat limp in his lap, continuing. “I will tell you what i want you to know, after you are not sitting shirtless and maskless infront of me like a moran.”

Horangi chuckled, the mood was light again. Like two clouds floating together in the sky after a storm, being the only ones left in its wake. König stood like a tall castle, he walked over to his small closet and found more clothes. Laundry would have to be done soon, things were picking up fast with another human in his midst. He found a larger hoodie he owned and put it on, it was loose around him surprisingly. Even around the biggest part of his chest it sat limp and loose. This and a balaclava, one of the only ones he had left. All the rest had been either borrowed, stolen, or were currently bloodied. Turning back around to see his partner, he held up the piece of fabric.

“This is the only one i currently have left, if you want i can just cut some holes from an old t-shirt i own?” He held it up next to his face, it was like an extra head.

“I dont think that would fit me” Horangi looked at him with curiosity.
“You dont?”
“No, besides, i'd rather you be masked.”
“Why’s that?” König turned back around, slipping it over his hair and forehead down to his neck. He felt safe and secure once more, like he was only another man.

“Then you are not König, you are a masked man listening. I suppose it makes it easier for me.” Horangi turned back, laying back on the bed. König now walked over to his relatively small bed, keeping his hands together in a knot.

“How do you want me sitting?” König questioned.
“It's your bed, where do you want me to be?”
“I want you where you are most comfortable, where is that?” König’s eyes creased like they usually did, leaving crows feet beside his eyes.

Horangi only frowned, he sat back up and lifted himself near the end of the bed. He only pointed and made eyecontact as to where König should go, nearing the head of the bed. König gladly sat down, legs crossed and hands laying together near his center.
Even with him being in his own room, König continued to hunch like his life depended on it. Horangi, on the other hand, sat cross legged near the edge of the bed. He let his hands coalesce, eyes narrow and fild with disagreaence. He didn’t know where to start, or how to explain all of this to König. He remembered how he had explained it to oni, how it had come naturally.
He felt as though it was second nature telling the man, but König? No, König was different. A different beast completely, he seemed as though he wanted to help. Oni only wanted to hear the story, it was like a moving picture for the man.
Just another small part of his large life, König wanted to know details. Horangi could see it in his eyes as he waited contempt in the corner.

Even when König had slouched, Horangi stayed on equal levels with the man. Staring weakly into his blue eyes, he truly didnt know how to recall what this story was about to the man. Asking how he should start sounded like a bad idea, like it would seem as though he was faking. He always had been a shit lier.

“You look at odds with yourself.” König remarked.
“I do not know how to explain this story to you.” Horangi lifted his hand to rub one of the sunken sockets that sat on his face.

“Why not start from the beginning?”
“Which beginning?”

This left König stumped, there was more than one beginning? That seemed excessive, like adding another chapter to the story when in all reality, the book is over.

“Start from the very beginning.”
“But I do not remember what that is.” Horangi started to get frustrated, remembering this should come easy to him. It was never usually difficult to remember these things off the top of his head.

“The very beginning, before your scars, before other people. Start with you, who you were before all of this. Even if it was when you were small, merely the size of a miniature cat.” König chuckled at the last remark, it was funny to think about small Horangi. Just a child, innocent and new.

“Well, I was born in a small town before we moved to Seoul. I do not remember when we moved there, I only remember leaving my grandmother. She was a nice old women.” A smile lifted the skin on his face, leaving his left side burning. “Then after that my father died, I do not remember him very well. All I remember is that he was a good man, that is what mother said at least.”

Horangi lost eye contact half way through this conversation, he was so busy focusing on moving his hands with his story that maintaining eye contact was not on his list of concerns. He told König of his mother, how she was a hot head. How he sprouted early in school and was in “gifted” classes. Only, he could merely seem to remember hating math after all of that. He told him of the hot and humid city he lived in, and the people. How he missed the people, they sat like monoliths in his mindm. Always coming back to him, whether it be on missions or in public.

Accounting all of his life events that he wanted to remember, it was like a quick overview of what he had experienced before the gambling. Then he got ever closer to when he started the very thing that ruined his life.

“When I turned 19, I decided I wanted to pick up a hobby. Something…small…that would bring in money for my mother and me.” He continued, looking up at König. “I chose to try gambling, it seemed easy. I bet money on the table, I have a good hand and then I win.”

He paused. “But Kim was stupid, Kim didn’t seem to understand that no matter how high that adrenaline rush gets you, you will always come back down.” He looked at König with deprevation, angry at himself, angry at the world.

“I messed with the wrong gang, I thought…Kim thought that he could win. He believed that if he could win enough money, he could pay off his debts. But Kim never won, he continued to stack up bill after bill. It was as though he was collecting them like cards, as though they were going out of style.” Horangi was getting upset, and König could see it on his face.

The man got red hot, his eyes started to stare down the man he was looking at. König could tell he was getting close to finishing this story. From humble beginnings to angry end, a small yet important ride.

“The adrenaline had become too much, I needed more. Kim needed more. So eventually he made a deal with a gang, win these rounds and you get to go free with all the money you desire. Debt paid off and never to be seen again, if you lose…” The pause was loud, silence filled the air with dread.

“If you lose, we get your life and everyone around you.” Horangi swallowed. He recalled how the man had said this to him. How it filled him with fear, but the fear kept him going. Pumped that sweet feeling through his veins. “And so, that's what Kim did. He took this deal, and he lost.”

The air was still as he said this, as though neither of them were breathing. Just two souless bodies in the same room. König knew this would be bad, but he did not expect the exceptionally smart Horangi to be tricked by gambling. Out of all the things that could hurt the man, he should know that the game is rigged, and that the house always wins.
No matter what circumstances you are in, the house will always win. König could only look at him pleadingly, sympathy wanted to drain from his eyes like tears, but that couldn’t happen. König had to be strong for his friend, the beast had to keep itself strung together with duct tape.

König noticed how he talked in third person, even in the smallest hiccups. Horangi would continue to refer to his past self as “Kim” , never the man that stood before König, strong and tall. Like a great obelisk he spoke.

“They kept their promise, and they did find Kim. They found him walking on a street late at night, drugged him, and kept him in a white room.” Horangi ’s voice wobbled as he spoke. “They cut me through and through, from my head to my calves. When they said I would owe my life, I merely thought they would kill me and get it over with.” Taking one more deep breath, voice shaky and filled with heartache. “Oh how I was wrong.”

The warehouse smelled of wet paint and dead bodies, it was almost like a mortuary. Erily quiet with small undertones of voices followed him around each corner of the room. He had been trapped here for what felt like days, maybe they were bringing up some form of torture trap for him. Whatever it was, he wasn’t ready to die in this shithole of a room. The piece of fabric that wrapped around his eyes never moved; it clamped onto him with no mercy. His hands were tied tightly around his back with thick rope. Small burns were starting to sear into his skin from each fiber of the confinement. The room felt still, like no one but him had been there in years upon years. Each step he took felt like he was the only one to ever exist there.

Every small movement bounced off the walls with force, they came back to his ears with a might like no other. No amount of tugging or walking gave him a clue as to where he was. He yelped, screamed and bellowed like no other. He only wanted someone to hear him, maybe this was the confinement after all. Years and years of being alone, no way to die besides the slow decomposition of his young body. But even with this, footsteps were heard. They were not his own, but boots that stammered along each tile of the floor.

“Who’s there?!” Kim attempted to sound menacing, he attempted to be heard. Maybe these were people who could help him. Let him go, never to come back to this wretched place. He continued to question. “Who are you, I will defend myself.”

A low voice came around a corner, deep in the ocean. The boots had stopped at this point, only leaving the giant to speak. “Come on Kim, you owe me money and you haven’t paid up yet.” Kim was filled with dread, he knew this would be the end of him.

“What do you have to plead for your life? A penny even?” The man continued, walking ever closer. “Maybe you could pay me in another way, the way you promised to pay me.” Kim could feel cool steel against his neck, there was a knife to his throat.

“Why would I beg for my life in front of someone like you.” Kim spat this out like nicotine gum, sure the fear was filling him like an empty jar. But he couldn’t just give up, he had to fight. “You know, I could make this quick.” He ignored what Kim had said, removing the knife from his throat. Now he circled around the man, loud steps that filled each white wall of the room. “Or, I could torture you until your unfortunate end. Which do you prefer?”

“I prefer you go and jump off a bridge asshole” Kim only smiled at the words, riling the man up could lead things his way. But he should have learned by now, he was a shit gambler. “You should have killed me when you got the chance.” He was pushing his limits now, seeing what he could get away with.

“I see you’ve picked your choice.” Only a small chuckle was heard after this, along with the bindings around his face being ripped off. It was a small white room, blank like a canvas. Infront of him stood a man toe to toe with him. He stared with a devilish grin at the man, small yellow eyes only gleamed at Kim. Spite filled him, anger and regret ran through him like melted gold.

With a snap of the man’s fingers, two giants came through a relatively small door around the other side of the room. Both wearing masks, concealing their idtentiy. They cut him through and through, burning the outside of his calves and waist.

Massive cuts bursted through his back like tiger stripes, lining the upper and lower part of him. Kim fought, and fought, and fought. Maybe he believed if he fought hard enough, they would leave him alone. If he screamed loud enough that someone, anyone would hear him. But no one ever came, only the echo of himself in that room and the men that continued to torture him. Letting them continue to cut every part of Kim away from himself, skinning the man like a rabid animal. This animal had been caught in a trap and would not be let out, not without him fighting like a dog.

It felt like months he was there, maybe it had been months. The men kept him fed, only enough to keep him alive. Letting the spirit run dry from his body, leaving what was only a corpse of the once, well known Kim. Now what was left, well. A broken man chained to the ground begging for scraps like a stray. Scratching at the infected cuts and burns on his body until he blead.

What was he supposed to do? What could he do? It all felt so hopeless, he remembered what his mother had said. How, this addiction would kill him one day. Leave him a walking corpse of a man that once was.

She spoke of how he would never be the same. How he would succumb to the greed and hatred that always came with sins like these. Now, broken and crying on the cold ground. He was starting to listen to what she had said, begging and pleading. As though he was a small child again, just wanting his mother to come and save him. And even still, no matter how much he screamed or cried. Pleaded even, no one ever came to help him. It was always the men in masks, and that rached asshole who always left small scars along his neck. Kim thought this was how he would die, along and cold on the floor of a warehouse building.

No matter how long he was there, it had felt like years. Years and years of pain and suffering, maybe it was just months, weeks even. But he was ready for it to be over, he was ready for them to finally put his suffering to an end.

The final straw, small cuts made around the left side of his face. The boss who had captured him in the first place had been slowly cutting around each part of the left side of his already broken face. Kim used to be beautiful like the sun, always smiling, always shining. Now, only salty tears ran down his face. He could feel his reflection leaving him slowly, like a fading picture of a loved one.

A loved one he began to resent, one who he had started to hate. Hate filled the empty void in him, it seeped through every broken and torn piece of skin he had. Like lead it weighed his body down, especially his face.

These small cuts the man was making, they were becoming frequent. Almost as though every day it would be a different part, maybe near his eye. Or perhaps the top part of his lip, no matter what it was. The result was always the same, and this tore him apart. The once concealed canines now only showed on his left side. Scars mapped across each part of his face, from his eye to his ear. It was infected, it burned like a thousand suns. Kim was gone, in his place. Fire and rage broke out, it seared through him like a cigar, nothing but ash of a former self was left. He knew this, he knew if he ever got out he would not be the man he once was. This did not matter to him, no, what mattered was that he lived, that he survived.

“You know Kim, you’ve held up for longer than I thought you would. Maybe you deserve a second chance, yes?” the shackles that had been keeping him down released. Bruised wrists met a bloody face, he only nodded in response.

“What about a game?” He began to circle again, he did this every time. It was as though he felt it was an intimidation tactic. “You get back home, in seoul. And you will be home free, debt paid off and all.”

It was a tempting offer, the idea of going back home. Seeing his mother again, and his nice little house. No matter, this would be Kims last chance. His only chance of going back home, and being with his family again.

Kim was a dogshit gambler, but Horangi was one hell of a runner…

Chapter Text

The mob boss started counting, first from fifty. Then to forty, then thirty, you get the concept. Time was running out, and it was running out rather quickly. The last thing Kim had heard was the sound of rushing footsteps through each corridor. Kim’s legs felt as though they were made of a jelly substance. He had been on the ground for so long, he forgot what walking felt like. Lugging himself along was a task all in itself, let alone the hounds chasing after him. They were determined to find him, bring him back to that desolate place filled with sorrow and despair.

But Kim couldn’t let that happen, no. Kim had to survive, he had to keep pushing. That is what his mother would have wanted, that's what she does want. No amount of thinking he would be saved would get him out of this one, only running away would.

His steps filled the narrow hallways, it was almost like there were ghosts following him. Distant sounds of people talking, rushing along right beside him like they were in a race. But when he looked to his side, well, there was no one there.

The talking had only gotten louder the closer he thought he was to the exit, whispers of “what if’s” and “But now’s.” All of these things had to be ignored, they were shrugged off like dust on his shoulder. Kim could tell the hounds were getting closer, as though they were right on his tail. Quick steps followed by loud chatter around the corners he had already passed by. It felt like he was going in circles, as though he would never get out of this place. Blood caked every part of his body, staining him through and through.

Ragged scars on his legs had opened up again, a crimson red spilled out of him like a fountain. The blood begain staining his skin the moment the wounds had opened, leaving a reminder of where he had been on the cream colored tiles.

“Come on Kim, you know you can’t escape.” A stern voice called through the hallways, it echoed through each wall. Kim couldn’t listen to that, no, he had to escape. He continued to tell himself this, this was his last chance there wouldn’t be another one.

Tears streamed down his face, like hot tea they burned there way into the torn skin that spread across his face. It felt like a hot iron had been taken to his face, no mercy or remorse. Even with this, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. Pure joy filled him, he would make it, he really would. It was like a gateway to heaven, seeping with golden light through double doors. Joy was then replaced with fear and anguish, they were still on his tail. Hounds still barked him down like the prey he was, not stopping until he was in there grasp again. Merely to be torn apart and put on a wall like an ournoment.

Heavy footsteps followed behind him, Kim had to keep going. Even with the quick glances behind him, he knew he would never make it, no. He would be the mans trophy, another one in the pile of men he had trapped.

Hands gripped the back of Kims shoulder and pulled him back with brute force, but, he was so close. So close to the door of freedome, so close to the idea of being home again. In the nice little house his mother had bought, tea and rice in hand watching TV. But no, this was his reality now. Kim thrashed in their grip, he couldn’t go out like this. This was a pitiful way to die, and Kim was not pitiful.

“This was fun, wasn’t it?” The man lit a cigar and walked over to the group of three, Kim still continued to toss and turn in the grip he was trapped in. “But, i think the game is over. You did your best though, yes?” A dark chuckle came out of him, he took the cigar to Kim's face.

A burn pressed into the torn skin on his cheek, this really was like a hot iron. It reeked of tobacco and cheap booze. Kim screamed like a banshee, loud enough to break glass. He only glared at the man, dark eyes met light yellow. Rage filled him, this would not be the way he went out. Kim stopped thrashing, he layed still in the grip of the two men. Only confusion dawned them, he had been burned, torn to pieces, and mentally tortured. But now, now was the time Kim decided to give up? At the end when he was so close to being home free, to never having to be someone's prisoner.

“you’ve had your time, now times caught up with you kim. What’s your alibi?” Kim bared his teeth, sharp canines met a confused but laughing man. He was egotistical, most likely thought he had won this little game between the two of them.

“I do not need an alibi.” He whispered under his breath, Kim roared back and swung his head at the man, knocking him back on his feet. He struggled, kicked and bit his way through the men’s grip. He jolted away, he could see the light at the end of the tunnel. Filling him with determination, no matter how much his legs hurt, or his body ached. Kim kept on going, filled with thoughts of freedom and a nice bed to lay in. Doors wide open, he never stopped running. The night consumed him like poison, he hid in each shadow he could find.

The men never found him. They only found small trails of blood that lead to bushes around the facility. Never the man They were looking for, but the shell they had torn off long ago. Kim never looked back, he never stopped running. He ran until he found Souel, and he ran until he found his house. The quaint little building his mother had purchased long ago.

But going inside only led to the horrors he had forgotten about, blood coated the walls of his tiny little home. They were obviously old, furniture had been flipped. It was like the house was ransacked for every last penny that could be found. Because that was what happened, Kim found his mother lying dead on the ground in the kitchen. A necklace adorned in her hand, she layed now peacefully dead.

Tears only spread lightly down Kim’s face, guilt filled him. It replaced the dark that had been there in the first place, now only an ocean of despair could be found. It was heartbreaking to see what he had caused.

The death of his, mostly innocent, mother. Sitting over her lifeless body, he hunched over and could only weep in sorrow. The whole reason he had to live, the whole reason he would die was sitting here motionless infront of him. No amount of self pity could stop the hatred that insured, anger and rage took over that intense amount of guilt that filled him. Tears of anger became tears of vitriol, he wanted revenge. He wanted to show those mob bosses what he truly was made of, what he could be.

Even with this, blood still dripped from every part of him. He could see the mourning of the day creep slowly over the horizon. The idea of bringing his, now very dead, mother to a hospital just to anownce her dead seemed like a waste of time.

But what else was he to do? The mix of emotion inside him bubbled with the fire of a thousand suns, spilling over the kettle like tea. Kim sat for what felt like hours of his mothers body, contemplating leaving. Perhaps he was to stay and get help, or maybe he could go to a hospital and find someone to fix him. Fix what those men had done to him, torn every spirit from his still living body. No, he was now unfixable. When kim finally got up, the lack of blood had caught up with him. The dizzyness and light-headedness now clouded his mind, leaving nothing but a man wondering what to do next.

“So, what did he do next?” König listened intently, showing no sign of stopping. “What did Kim do that stopped him from becoming a rabid beast.”

“I do not remember.” Were the only words that could come out of Horangi’s mouth. “What I do know is that Kim wasn’t there anymore, no. Now sat a man that could only be fueled by destroying those that harm him, and the ones he loved.” Horangi let out a long sigh, letting his posture collapse into a small arch.

“You blacked out?” König asked.
“Yes, I blacked out. Or rather, Kim blacked out.” Horangi straightened his posture once more.
“Where did Kim wake up?”
“A small hospital just outside of Souel.”

Horangi continued to maintain eye-contact, letting the sleepiness of the morning, and the night before, catch up with him. He felt like a weight had been taken off his shoulders, leaving a small bit of relief to show through.

König only nodded and let a small “Hmm” come out, he must of had nothing to say. It felt wrong for him to have nothing to say, this wasn’t just a pep talk. This was an important bit of Horangi’s life, something that would never be forgotten. A feeling he had never felt came through him, it hit the man like a truck. It was a mix of despair and confusion and other small emotions that shined through in small tidbits. He felt wrong, he felt like this was a defect. As though it were something that shouldn’t happen, even though he couldn’t quite place what the feeling was.

“Do you want a hug?” König broke the silence.
“Do I what?” confusion could very well be heard in Horangi’s voice.
“You heard me, I know you aren’t that deaf. Would you like a hug.” König joked.

Horangi’s face twisted and turned with confusion, why on gods green earth would he want a hug? This was even weirder than the emotion he had been feeling, this was out of the ordinary for both of them. König wanting to touch someone, and Horangi feeling…off, like he belonged too well in the here and now. Was König being serious? This all felt wrong, like he was in an alternate reality. The man opposite of him only held out both his arms freely, eyes squinting. Maybe there was a smile under that mask he wore.

“I dont want a hug, I want to know more about you.” Horangi crossed his arms, giving König a glare.
“Why do you want to know about me?” König dropped his arms to his sides, eyebrows tilting.

“Well, I just spilled my entire youth in front of you. I think I deserve to know a little about you.” Horangi let a small smile creep up his face. König looked unsure, as though there was truly something he didn’t want anyone knowing.

“This isn’t group therapy, I don't feel as though it is important.” König quipped.
“It's important to me, now it's your turn.” Horangi only stuck out his hand, letting it stand still between the two of them. König looked at him with desperation and confusion, letting the offering go to his head all too quickly. What was he offering? Or was he perhaps needing something, the silence was killing him slowly.

“I am confused.”
“Well I can see that much, the mask, I want it.” Horangi made a gripping motion with his hand.
“Why” König took it off slowly, he felt naked again. Like he was being seen out in public.
“Well, it helped me, maybe it will help you.”

König put the mask in his hand, even though he hadn’t been wearing it for long it shaped the way his hair curled. Usually tighter curls now sat limp against his forehead, now wavy if anything. He looked tired, eyebags hung low behind pale blue eyes. He was a sight to behold without that ratty t-shirt covering his face. As Horangi was dark like the moon, König was bright like the sun. He was a sweet summer child, bright and happy.
This is what Horangi thought at least, years of fighting filed König down to a tired adult who wanting nothing more than sex once in a while and a nice cup of hot chocolate. Only one of these things got fulfilled each year of course, it was seasonal.

Horangi turned back into the mysterious figure that König knew nothing of with that mask back on, it covered every part of him besides those dark eyes. Although, complaining would be short of how he felt when the fabric was adorned. It was loose on him, it drifted down the back of his neck because of this.

A small sigh could be heard from the tall man, he clearly hadn't quite made up his mind with something.

“What do you wish to know.”
“What's with your lip?” Horangi pointed to the very botched job that had been done.
“Do you want the long explanation, or the short one?” König looked up through hooded eyes.
“The short one.”

Horangi was quick to speak, it was like he had all of this memorized. Or maybe he had it written down, but this was not the case. You get used to talking quickly when you feel things need to get done quickly.

“Surgery didn’t go as expected.”
“Why did you need surgery in the first place?” Horangi tilted his head slowly.
“I was born wrong.”

Both of them sat in silence before König did nothing but cackle, like an old man getting off of his shift. He did nothing but laugh and laugh for quite some time, maybe he thought he was funny. Horangi could only look on in confusion as the man bellowed, the crows feet near his eyes becoming more apparent.

“You know, I don't think I find this quite as funny as you do.”
“Maybe so, you do not seem amused” Königs loud personality was coming through, he seemed happy. Giddy even, whatever he was feeling it ran through him enough to meet Horangi’s fingertips.

“How were you born wrong? You seem generally fine.” Horangi continued to praud at him, he wanted a definite answer.
“I was born with a cleffed lip, apparently I wasn't fully formed. So they stitched me up at the ripe age of eight.”

the scar was still there, It left a small bit of his upper lip gone. Now only sat the double canines that would dig into each part of his mouth if he wasn’t careful. In a way, it was a painful existence. Having to constantly fix his mouth or make sure he didn’t nick himself.

“Isn't it not supposed to leave a giant scar above your mouth?” Horangi pointed to the scar that led up to his lower cheek. “Ah yes, well, it wasn’t really a doctor who fixed me.” König sat quietly, his words started to lessen the more he talked.

“Who did?”
“My father.”

The room could be cut with a knife, not the Horangi would know that. He was just as confused as the next guy as to why König’s father, out of all people, fixed him. But by the look on König’s face, it was more than just fixing. He looked out of place, unhappy even, or maybe uncomfortable was a better description of his facial expression. Whatever words Horangi could come up with couldn’t describe the vitrail on the man’s face.

“You look like you want to ask questions.”
“That is the whole point of this, no?” Horangi looked at König through clouded eyes.
“Ask away, know that I will refuse to answer anything.”

A small hum came from the man opposite of him, he was deep in thought. This question would have to be worth something if König could throw it away at every will. So Horangi thought, pieceing together all of the questions he wanted answered.

“Was your father an angry man?”

Silence, not even a cricket from outside made noise. The tension didn’t grow in the room however, it shrunk slowly down into a small pip. König knew this question would arise eventually, just not so soon. He couldn’t veto the man's first question, could he? That seemed wrong and hypocritical of him. How to answer the question was a whole other beast, was his father angry? It had seemed that way through his childhood, as though he was never good enough for him.
Maybe he still wasn’t good enough for him, but if anything, his father wasn’t angry. Or the anger didn’t stem from him naturally, no. There was always something bothering the man, it poked and prodded at him like a hot iron.

“I wouldn’t call him angry, more like…i don't know how to describe it in English.” König used his hands gesturing up and down, his face squinted, trying to find the words to describe a simple feeling or person.

“Then don't use english” Horangi moved König's hands back down to his lap, speaking again. “Sometimes the best way you can describe something is not through what other people will understand.” Horangi spoke quietly.

“Well, okay then Mr philosophical. Where did you pull that out of, your ass?”
“Something my grandmother would say to me, when i was young.”
“Hmm”

Silence filled the room again, this time though. It was peaceful silence, no tension to cut, just comfortable and kind. Suddenly, König answered the man. Athlough not in the way he expected.

“der Trübsinn”
“What?” Horangi looked up at him.
“der Trübsinn, it is one way i can describe him.” König looked down at his hands, slowly picking away the skin that sat there.

“If you don't stop, i'm going to make you.” Horangi gave König a look, the type of look an angry mother would give their child. Or maybe a slightly upset spouse, whatever the look was. It worked better than any other, König looked like a caught child. As though his hand were caught in a cookie jar, wide eyes and parted lips.

“I am sorry” König looked up through hooded pale eyes. “I do not know why I do this.” He only held up his hands willingly, they were shaky and looked cold.

“It is alright, just do better for yourself.” Once again, Horangi slowly lowered König's hands. This time he kept them there, dark eyes only stared quietly into his counterparts.

“Go ahead, keep talking.” Horangi never moved his hands, they stayed there on top of König's.
“I, erm, what was I talking about?” König’s face was red, very red.
“Your father, how he was…whatever word you used to describe him.” Horangi looked off to the side, not remembering what or how to say it.

“Oh yes, right. Might i ask, why are your hands…there.” König’s eyes looked down nervously.
“So you don't hurt yourself.” He remarked.
“I promise I won't, you can let go.”
“You are a bad liar, now don't stop talking. Things were just getting interesting.”

König looked back and forth from Horangi’s eyes to the hands that covered his, covered in scars and tattoos. They sat there, seeming in no way, shape, or form to move. Like a great weight, König contemplated what to say, how to describe his childhood. He continued to try to move his hands. But to no avail, his partner would bat him an eye each time he tried to move them. He felt like he needed to pick, he had to pick.

“Please, I-I can’t, i don’t know how to-” König stuttered quickly, it was overwhelming not being able to use the one coping mechanism he had used for years. But he couldn’t upset Horangi, that would be criminal of him. Panic filled König’s face, he pleaded and begged like a dog to be let go. Each time the stutter would get more prominent, and each time Horangi would simply nod his head no.

By the twelfth time König had pleaded, nails were dug into his skin. His own yes, but still painful. It was a good pain, something to keep his mind off of being held hostage. Slowly, he quieted once more.

Now back to the reserved man Horangi knew him as, sitting silently looking at Horangi with guilt and remorse.

“I am sorry.” König looked down at the hands covering him. “I do not like it when people do this to me” Horangi stared König down. “Do what to you?” Horangi scooted closer, now König was easily accessible. “Invade your space.”

“Like you are doing now, yes.” This time, he stayed calm. König continued to look at Horangi with that pleading stare. Pale blue eyes could do nothing but weep like the sea, washing back and forth. A raging storm full of emotion behind a hardened soldier, it was too bad, Horangi couldn’t have that. No, he needed to see the storm at its fullest, angry and upset. Or like König was doing a moment ago, full of raw emotion.

“You know, I think the rest of base is wondering where we went.” Horangi remarked.
“I suppose I completely forgot about the rest of base, what do you propose we do?” König let go of his thighs, now only dent marks from his nails remained.

“We could make a show out of it.” Horangi chuckled. “Or if you want, I can just sneak out your window.”

This made König chuckle, not in a funny way. But it seemed menacing, malicious even. It was amusing to think how the 6’2 man in front of him could crawl out the window. This did not even seem possible, sure the man was smaller than König, but he still towered over many men. Sneaking out the window would be no easy task.

“You think you can fit through that?” König nodded to the small window above the bed. “I doubt it.”

“Really? Watch me.” Horangi stared him down once more, removing his hands from his partners. “And don’t pick at those while I'm gone.”

Suddenly, König was shoved off his own bed. Landing on the floor like a tub of lard, he hit the ground hard. Even with this, Horangi opened the window and began climbing out. It was like acrobatics, he looked left and right, then slowly made his way out the window. Head first like an animal, Horangi crawled with both arms through the tiny little exit. But, as König expected, the tiger was stuck. An animal in a trap, and this animal did not want to be trapped.

A muffled voice could be heard from the other side of the wall, still with the thick accent he expected. No real words came out of this, nothing but a flailing half body was left.

“What's that? You want me to help you after your flawless attempt?” König leaned against the wall next to his window. “You know, i don't think i will.”

Legs kicked mercilessly from left to right, if anyone saw Horangi it would be one hell of a time explaining why he was stuck in a window…König’s window. The man let out a huff, he didn’t know how to aproach the situation.
That was a bald face lie, he knew exactly how to approach the situation. Grabbing the man's lower waist and slowly pulling him back out of the entrance. This seemed as though it would be crossing boundaries however, and withough permission, it rubbed the man the other way.

Even with this König moved his, still relatively small bed, out of the way. Now he was left with 2 decisions, pull the man out immediately, or try and tell him.

The ladder would be unlikely, there were too many people on base for that to happen. And König would have to scream to have even the smallest amount of his voice to be heard. That left the first option, pulling him out quickly, But did he really have to pull him out haymacker fast? Maybe he could slowly ease the man into it, perhaps that would make things easier.

“Sorry katze” he started wrapping his hands around the man's waist, now it was more of a fireman's carry than anything.

But he wasn’t truly carrying any part of the man's body, most of it layed motionless now. The squirming was replaced with true dead wieght, now most of him was pressured on the windowsill. König placed his back against the wall, slowly pulling his partner back into the room. Out came a still man, one that now layed weighted against König's shoulder. Hair now soaked in sweat, he only sat there. No sounds or movement came out of him, almost like a corpse.

“Katze, I'm sorry, I didn't know what else to do.” König bent over, letting the man land gently against the ground. But looking closer, a small red hue appeared just below Horangi’s eyes. Not blood, no, just a light pink spread across his face.

“Are you alright?” König bent down slightly, letting them partly meet face to face. “I really did not mean to cause harm, are you bleeding?”

König reached slowly with his arm, he never touched the man. He held it out as Horangi had done with him the night prior, waiting for the acceptance of his hands. But he didn’t seem in pain, or any other emotion besides shock.

“Yes König, I'm fine, everything is fine.” This was said rushingly as Horangi put down the man's hand as quickly as he could. “I think i’llm be leaving now, out the front door.”

He seemed panicked, like he had just seen a ghost. But he moved as quickly as the tone had changed, rushing over to the door and saying a couple of words before rushing fast into the hallway.

“Thank you for the help, have a good day!” All of this, again, seemed rushed. Without thought put into it, leaving König confused and alone.

Spiraling into madness, König flipped every part of his room wondering what he had done wrong. His mind rambled for any reason besides getting the man out of the window, anything would suffice. To say it came up with ideas would be an understatement, the man thought until the early noon. So many ideas came to mind, so many things that he could have done wrong. The crashing out, the pleading. God he must have looked pathetic, maybe that was the reason.

He looked like less of a leader, less of the man that everybody knew him as, including Horangi. Maybe now he wasn’t enough for the man. Now he was back to the same man that excluded himself from every social gathering he came across.

And to think that he started to enjoy the man's company frequently, König started to think that they could do this often. Talk about things that they both enjoyed, spar…talk. He was so dead set on Horangi liking him, it had to be him, it couldn't be anyone else. König ruined the one chance he had at being someone's friend, or even someone's partner.

It was like torture, he couldn’t go back in time and fix whatever he had done. Now he had to sit and marvel at what had already happened. But while König was busy wondering if he could ever repair what he had damaged, Horangi had another problem.

A raging hard on followed him to his room, he didn’t know how to respond. Horangi couldn’t reposition without getting an odd glance, but it was becoming even more present to him. What was wrong with him?

Horangi quickly slammed his room door behind him, leaning against it like it was his life support. Out of all the time it had to happen, now was the time? The man audibly groaned, sure he felt bad leaving König not knowing what was going on.
But he was more worried about why it had happened, there was no way he could be attracted to his partner. It wasn’t possible, Kim had never connected so fast with someone. And König? I mean out of all the people why him, sure he was strong, and maybe he empethized with him.

This still didn’t piece it together for the man, nothing was coming together. If anything, things were slowly falling apart around him, like a budding rose things were slowly unwinding. And what was he supposed to do now?

The hard on was not going away, nothing was making it go away and it was painful. Not the usual pain, but the type of pain that strung it way down Horangi’s back and neck. He couldn’t jerk off, could he? Well theoretically he could do whatever he wanted to, but the idea of jerking off to a…partner. Seemed wrong, especially someone like König. Another groan could be heard from him, maybe he could just picture someone else, something else even.

Anything to get the horrible feeling out of mind and out of his body, something to lean him away from the dread and misery. The man pulled down the sweats he had been givin and tried to think of something, anything besides König.

At first it worked, slow movements along with the man biting one of his thumbs with closed eyes let him believe it was someone else. By this time, he had fallen down the door and was now sitting on the floor.

Muffled groans were let out the more he imagined, maybe it was a woman. Someone with curly blond hair and blue eyes, yes, that was normal. Just something that would take his mind off the man that occupied him. But even with this, no matter how much he imagined, König continued to come to mind. Who could blame Horangi? Picturing the man shirtless lead to more difficulties, he could imagine that braud chest and shoulders with those, slightly chiseled abs.
A large back with strong muscle met his mind, biceps and forearms that would put any regular person in a heart attack came and left him.

What truly was the harm of thinking of the man? Who would he be hurting, no one at all. This drove the man crazy, the first slow movements turned into fast passed ones. Now he thought of nothing but König, mind tainted by him.

Horangi could picture the man talking to him, whispering things in his ear that he had never hear before. Telling him how great he was doing, or how good he felt. How those strong arms would come down and hold him tighter than they had done earlier.
These images and thoughts never left Horangi alone, they only continued to come until the man hit sweat, sweat ecstasy.

White liquid poured from him slowly, he had bitten so hard his hand had stated to bleed. The small moans of his partners name now died out as he stared quietly at the mess he had made. How disgusting of him, the clarity hit him like a truck.

Sure it felt good, but it was wrong of him…right? This was all so confusing, everything was so confusing. But Horangi wasn’t a teenager again, he was a man who could make his own decision. Even so, this felt wrong, everything felt wrong.

Chapter Text

The weeks went by slowly, dragging on the days like a setting sun. Days seemed to pass by slowly, as though the sun god was taking his sweet time. Leaving the two men to contemplate and think on their own. König had overthought, over and over and over again. His mind raced with ideas of what had gone wrong, but in his mind he knew. He knew exactly what he had done that set Horangi off so badly, like gasoline to a fire.

Touching him the way he had, it was wrong. This König knew, he knew this the moment he walked into Horangi bleeding on the tiles. He knew when he sat next to the man as though they were buddies, pals even.

He struggled to sleep, eat, or do anything really. The thought had weighed him down like an anchor, keeping him stuck to the sea floor. Truly, the bottom-feeder König always was, unpleasing, unappealing and a nuisance. That was all the man felt, since every long day past that was all he could imagine. How much of a lowlife he had spiraled into, and for once. König had felt good about what he had done, maybe even accomplished to help another human being. Besides the men and women in his unit of course.

Though the weeks had gone on slowly, and though they had pushed him to his breaking point. König usually never left the building, let alone his room. Going to the food hall just to come back empty handed or with small items. Things that reminded him of his home, nostalgic enough to have an effect but small enough to not change his mood.

His room now had a dim light to it, the once warm and pleasant place had fallen under the cover of snowfall. With the changing of seasons, the area grew more and more melancholic. Instead of the warm reds and yellows, now faded greys and blues took their place.

Painting his concrete walls with the despair trapped between ocean blue eyes. Even with his sadness, it could not stop him from his work. Afterall, being a lonely soldier had no time for sorrow or anguish.

The moment König got the letter, he knew he wouldn't be thrilled. Slipped under his door the night before. A pink envelope sat, pretty and pristine. It reminded him of his mother in a way, beautifully untouched on the outside. But on the inside contained depression and disgust. Only a fool would open such a trap, and yet, König was this fool. The one to see that letter and have just a pinch of hope that it would be different from what he imagined, that it could be different from the dread that lurked inside.

He sat at his desk, a small pocket knife and the letter in hand. Although wanting to open it, he could only look on in questioning. Was it worth it? And what if he was expecting wrong. Maybe his parents had wrote him back after all these years.
Even when the first slice started and ended, the hunter to an animal hide. The insides were just as ugly as he imagined. Not the letter he was hoping for, a mission that he was to be sent out on with another unit. A sniper position that he filled with another man's name, although redacted in the letter.

König sat there, he continued to read through each typed out line. Words filled his brain slowly, trying to really understand what was on the page. Certain names and details of the mission were crossed out or redacted all together. This was patchy, not the usual corporation's work, they had a man who formatted the mission briefs differently. No redacted names and crossed out details. Everything that they needed would be there on the page, right in front of them. They didn't need to guess what was going on. But no, not this person. The format was all wrong, the information was scattered as if done in a frenzy. Names dropped randomly or just not mentioned, and a new team König had never seen before.

Not the usual Alpha, Beta, or Charlie he knew. But the team was called “Natural Selection” odd for a group of people König had never seen before. Even the mission name was blurred out, the only word that could be made out was “Watcher”, which was not a good indicator. What could be made out was the very intense numbers at the bottom.

Dating when the meeting was to discuss it, and when troops would be sent out to Russia and Belarus. König had started to hate the cold because of that place, it was always too intense to enjoy the feeling of it on his skin.

König set down the paper, he had four hours before a brief would happen. Maybe KorTac would tell them more together, as a team and not just one on one. Maybe that was why the letters were used, to not disclose to the wrong people. Not that it mattered to him, he had four hours to shower and get ready for the mission brief. Even in his downward mood, König loved a sniper position. He felt powerful in that way, untouchable and vital. But mainly, he could be alone, leaving the rest of his squad to help themselves to each other's company.

A quick shower followed with a search for his old sniping gear took place, the ghillie suit he once held dear sat in the dust. It looked as though it was growing mold, small gold specs shined through his drowsy room.

Green in color, it wouldn't be the best thing to wear but options were slim. Besides, if anything the ability to coat himself in the snow was always an option up for grabs. It wouldn't be the first time König would have to disguise himself as someone or something he was not for the mission. A quick shower and a new face mask adorned it. It felt like König had been waiting forever for the hour to strike when he would leave.

When it had finally come7, König had chewed off most of the skin surrounding his index fingernail. Red poured from his wound, he felt like an injured animal, even though he had caused this himself. A band aid and some disinfectant are always the answer to the anxiety König had.

Opening the door out of his room, he felt the hot air of the facility hit his face. Blood rushed to the top of König's skin, coloring it a bright red, almost like the morning sun. It was a good thing his balaclava and t-shirt with holes in it covered his, mildly, saturated face. The hallways were echoey, each tap of his steel toed shoes rattled against the walls. Bouncing back and forth from one side to the next, all of them making their way back to König ears.

The long hallway was intimidating in a way, too narrow with no exits. Filled with rooms for the rest of his comrades. The common area, and then the tall but tight door that led to mission briefs.

König hated this room, he hated having to sit still and watch a presentation made by others, or even worse. Sometimes König had to make the presentation himself, explaining routes and what his group was there to do. That made König's skin crawl with anxiety, the thought of being in front of the entire base. Even if he had done it so before, it didn't make it any less nerve racking. Like a beast on display, he would stand as eyes from all around boggled his body. He despised the feeling; it would be even worse if his…. Partner would be there. König hadn’t thought of that, if his partner would be at this brief.

Even if he was going on this mission, maybe König would be alone on this. That is what he had hoped at least, sitting in one area watching and waiting. Or even someone else could be with him, roze perhaps. No matter how loud she could be, she was often very good company for the man. She liked to talk about her home life, and he liked to listen to her, it was always interesting to hear what she had to say.

The room was mostly empty, certain seats filled with people he didn't know and had no interest in getting to know. Heads turned slowly, he could feel the eyes lingering on him for just a little bit too long. As though they could see right through the man, all his thoughts and feelings were out on display for the world to see. What they couldn’t see is the boy beneath the man, small, spindly and fragile he was. But oh how he longed to be different, how he longed to not have peering bulbs look at him as though he wasn’t human.

König took his usual spot, the back left corner in this room was home to him. People usually never sat by him if he was here, he was in the dark during presentations anyway. Slowly, one by one the room filled with other people.

Some he knew of, some he didn’t pay attention to. But one man stuck out from the crowd, his…partner. Now covered from head to toe in his regular mission gear, greens and browns covered his camouflage. There was no way he would be paired with König, downward turned eyes leered at Hong-Jim. He wanted to say something, wanted to ask what he had done wrong exactly and how to fix it. But being lost in thought, he hadn’t noticed the man slowly walk towards him, it could be compared to strutting in all honesty. Horangi had always walked with confidence in his step, letting the world know he was hot shit.

“Is this seat taken?” Horangi stood, pointing down at the chair next to König. He didn't have an answer for the man, just large ocean blue eyes staring up at him. Begging to say something, begging to have an explanation. Say something you idiot! König only nodded no, pointing down to the chair with gloved hands.

“I’ll be taking it” Horangi sat too close for comfort, knees almost touching one another. The king faced the front of the rec room, but his eyes gleamed down at their thighs.

The lights had turned off, and the front of the room which contained a digital board lit up with color. A unknown man walked to the front, neither of them have met or seen him in their lives. This was new, and confusing.

“Do you know who that is?” Hong-Jim leaned into König, whispering in his ear from the side. “I have no clue.” König finally spoke, his confusion had stopped the wondering eyes König couldn’t control.

The man started speaking, breaking down the mission one by one. Different teams and partners, how long they woulod be out in the harsh conditions and what the harsh conditions were made up of. As he gave off orders and commands, König wondered what the goal of the mission was besides “hold this position until I say stop”. Partners and trios had been called up to the front, he described in great detail what they were assigned to do. Recon teams, insertion specialists, and juggernauts were all assigned things to do.

This left only the two in the room, all others had been dismissed to ruck up and ready to be deployed. Even with the feelings of eyes off of him, König grew more nervous by the minute. He made eye contact with the unknown man.

“You two must be our snipers” He growled, crossing his arms. “Come on up, I'll tell you the jist of the operation.”

Horangi and König both grew to their feet, walking over near the front of the room. The light was blinding, but getting a closer look at this unknown person, König could see intense facial scaring. No where near on par with his partners, but enough to be notable from battle.

“You are König, yes?” Craning his neck up to meet the giant, König only nodded in agrience. “You and, Hong-Jim is it? Will be one of our snipers for this operation.” He took an intense breath, heaving in as much air as possible.

“We will be in the height of Belarus, cornering Russia. All you need to do is watch campsites, making sure our men are safe and sound. We wouldn't want an ambush now would we?” A chuckle could be heard from him, low and dark. “König, im trusting you to hit shots and give callouts or commands. Both of you will be equip with a radio and will be near a cabin in the area.”

König was both focused on the man talking, but also on the figure next to him. Horangi. He seemed generally at ease, maybe he was happy to be on this mission. Or perhaps it was just a mask to hide the true feelings, that was what he was known for, a great poker face.

“Why are we paired together?” Horangi quickly questioned, “I mean, he's usually an insertion specialist and I'm usually in demolition.” The man smiled quickly, skin pulling at the crows feet near his eyes.

“You remember that useless fighting match we did around a month ago?” He held out his hand in a palmed gesture, explaining with his fingers. “Well we took Talley's on how teams did, and you two may have disappeared. But the teamwork shown was not to be shrugged off.

König looked down at his partner from this, the man's face covered in his usual balaclava and sunglasses. König had no way of knowing what he was thinking or feeling, he could only assume. But in between, he could see the dark eyes watching him as well. He stared as they flicked back and forth from him and the speaker.

“So you know your assignment, yes?” both König and Horangi nodded their heads, coming up to attention. “You are dismissed, we are leaving at 1500, so be ready at the docks.” Another quick head nod came from both the men.

König watched Horangi leave with haste, leaving the tall man in the hallway alone. He had one hour to be ready, the notes that had been given to them were wrong. Or perhaps times had changed as of the day, whatever it was, it was not predictable. König could hear talking from the lobby, groups of people having conversations. He out of place, walking up to the doorway into the room. Sad eyes stared into the morning light, allowing them to gleam in between the dark hallway.

König could continue to hear tapping through the halls, people running and grabbing what they had for the mission. He felt as though he still wasn’t briefed enough on what was going on, maybe that was the point. Perhaps this was a test, to show how well he could work under pressure and with others.

Reaching his room, he brough out all the gear he would need for such a cold environment. Three pairs of everything, along with a very insulated coat that would go well with his ghillie suit. Oh how he loved his ghillie suit, it made him feel safe, as though eyes couldn’t quite see through him as well.

A large duffle bag was packed, he adorned his vest with plates and extra mags along with .50 Cal ammo. High grain, just so the bullet drop wouldn't be as bad. But even with the high grain rounds, König wouldn't need to understand bullet drop because of his gun. A large Victus XMR, styles to his liking by a dealer from a long time ago.

It sat in the armory just off base, it was his gun and oh how did he love it. With everything packed into the bag, König ran off base and back on in a matter of minutes. All to wait in the docks for an escort to transport them. The small chairs barely fit his large form, he wondered what the cabin would be like. Maybe it would be something of his old home, warm, inviting, smelling of the cookies his grandmother used to make.

It was 1450, people had started piling into the lobby. Space filled like stacking sardines in a can, and then there he was in all his glory. Horangi, standing tall like a statue in the doorway scanning the room. His eyes met König's, steering through the dark sunglasses that hooded his already dark irises.

But when he saw the man, even through the shaded glasses, König could see a small light in the mans eyes. Polite waves were exchanged and Horangi sat by his partner, Holding his rifle in hands.

The man they had both seen before, stood in the middle of the room. Like a great obelisk of hope and tragedy at the same time. His eyes narrow and cold, he continued to instruct other operators on their mission and have, what König was guessing was, meaningful conversations.

“Are you two both ready?” He stood in front of König once more, barely taller than the man sitting down. Again, the only confirmation he got were two head shakes. “You both will be in a separate blackhawk for the flight, please keep the inside some form of clean.”

König hated Blackhawks, he didn't dislike them because they were small. And he never disliked them for how cramped and tight they felt, nor did he think they were ugly. But they were loud, just like Apache's. The open interior made the noise often unnumberable for him to withstand, the hard sound of wind violating his ears. What was more concerning to him, was that he would be in the Blackhawk alone with his companion. And by the time they had all left, on their way to Belarus, König had chewed off another part around his nail.

He chose to keep this to himself, turning away from the man next to him on their way there. Smalltalk was only an option if Hong-Jim wanted it to be, and right now Hong-Jim did not seem as though small talk would be a good idea.

On site, König could see the cabin they were speaking of. Not necessarily small in size, but not huge either, a nice warm in between of the two. He remembered the hours in which he was supposed to be out of the ridge watching his comrades, making sure they were safe. From twelve to twenty four every other day. This mission was going to be months long, this he could tell. Walking inside, the earie silence from not only the cabin but him and his partner was immense, only the wind whirring outside could be heard.

The cabin was cozy in a way, only slightly heated, it had an old feeling to it. As though the things here shouldn’t be spoken of for the rest of eternity. Like the spiders that sat in their webs, had seen everything, even through the cold harsh winter. No details were given of the cabin, everything about this was new to both of them.

König watched as Horangi sat his things down on the small couch that layed against the wall, facing a small tv. He was surprised the place got enough electricity to run anything of the sort. The room was large in size, opening up to the kitchen in the back. No door separated the two, just a curtain and some loose ends.

The door shut fully behind König, letting a small amount of cold air and snow into the room. Though not heated well, it was nice enough to have on a long sleeve short at worst. Setting his sniper down near the closet next to the main entrance, he could see how worn down everything was. Scraped floorboards, rotting wood and black mold were no newcomer to this cabin. Spider webs coated the ceiling. It seemed as though the house was alive, taking in air and spitting it back out. Walls bellowing with every strong gust outside, but never quite taking it in.

Horangi searched the house, no words said. Conversation wasn’t on the table for either of them at this time, both of the men had a job to do. Find rooms, set up camp, and establish boundaries. The two’s relationship was rocky, especially right now. Horangi, filled with regret and anguish, along with a lack of understanding. Nearly the same with König, but guilt piled high for him, rushing through him like an icy river.

A watch tower stood tall and high 100 meters out, looking over the abyss of men marching bellow. Like ants to König and Horangi, that would be where camp would be set up. Two large snipers looking down upon the land they had to protect, like big brother, eyes in the sky.

The cold air sent a chill through König, running up his spine quickly. A fire could be lit in the tower, as it was somewhat modern and sturdy. From the looks of it, it could be used to live in. Surrounded by perfect fire wood, it would be a nice place to sit and look out at all of the ants marching below.

“You really like that tower” Horangi said stepping out the front door, eyes struggling to meet his partners. “Im just excited, I haven't been on a mission like this in a while.” König turned to look at Hong-Jim, crows feet meeting the edge of his eyes. He was smiling, genuinely, not some made up half fake with the idea to impress the other.

This was a genuine smile, something to be proud of. König turned off and started walking, bags of gear and food in hand. He stopped for a moment, thinking to himself, he almost thought to say something to the man, maybe even words of encouragement. Perhaps an invitation to join him on this icy tower, it would be lonely up there all on his own.

But even as Horangi watched him, König couldn’t find the words. Like a rock stuck in his throat, the only noise he could make was a weak cough, Before continuing on to the obelisk standing tall.

He was right about this place, it bellowed like an old giant. Telling all of its secrets in every breath, as the wind wished around old logs, König could feel the age wiegh on him. It was comforting in a way, the feeling of giants in his Prescence. The tower had stairs to climb up with a living quarter at the top, 3 beds sat on separate parts of the room next to a stove. That would come in handy, along with cabinets filled with pots and pans.

It seemed as though they would be eating more than just rations, but that didn't stop him from remembering his job. Placing some of the old firewood into the stove and bringing out a match he lit it with one strike.

The fireplace crackled, the small light soon charred the old wood. All the small bubbles of water and air trapped inside made small noises when touched by the hot flame. König could hear it as he set up, pops and bursts of the fire. He could feel its warmth from the other side of the tower, like the sun’s beating rays hitting his skin. It was hot like a burning stove, emitting heat at an impressive temperature and time.

König's rifle sat against a small hole where he could see over the ridge, he hadn’t even thought about calibrating his weapon. All he could think of was how nice it was to listen to, how the bolt slid back oh so very nicely to let another round in the chamber.

König loved this gun, it was a cornerstone to what he wanted to be, the idea that he had set his mind to oh so long ago. But now, now he lived with being an insertion specialist, not the sniper he once wanted to strive up to.

A sigh was heard from him, low and heavy. Almost as though grief was carried with it, like a bit of soul was brought out of him with each breath on this ancient mountain. It looked like clouds were forming in the already muted sky, dark puffs of water slowly floating over like imminent doom for the soldiers down below. Looking through his scope newly set, the rage finder falling perfectly under his red dot. They could see much farther up here than they could even imagine in the down under. König could spot every tree for around 4 miles, like a vast sea of green covering a soapy field. The snow coating the ground just as fast as it melted under König's boots, the weight pushing down on the mountain.

Dead eyes filled König's sockets, they sunk into his face. Downturned pale blues looked through his scope and past it, calibrating his once beloved gun. Half of him wondered if Horangi was looking at him, half of him didn’t want to know.

König’s gun was calibrated, now ready to scout for hours on end without stopping. He could picture it now, silence with the occasional animal cry from afar. The ashy smell of the fire near him, and looking around for the fun of it. It was always so serene being in mountains like these, it reminded him of something very familiar. Like a mothers warm hug, things that you don't just forget, feelings you can't forget.

His gun was calibrated, now precise and to the point when trying to hit a shot. It was getting darker and darker as the minutes went by, that once grey sky now only had lights specs of stars dancing around. It would be so much prettier if there wasn’t so much light pollution coming from the men below, their lights filled the sky with large amounts of distraction.

It was cold, colder than he could describe. Not in a way that he felt as though going inside would be the only way to be warm, but his feeling from earlier was gone. Now sat a feeling of loneliness, occupying the pit of his stomach he could feel it turn as he thought of his partner. How would he approach him, would he be direct? Or maybe as what exactly he had done wrong, what had happened to make the man run like he had.

Whatever it was, König couldn’t push it off for too long, the men had a job to do and this job couldn’t be interrupted by some sob story from a middle-aged man. König exited the tower, walking down the flight of stairs and giving a list of commands to the other recons taking nights. A string of “Shift over” and “Status” was given to the other team, König was Echo 1-2 as Horangi was Echo 1-1, things are made easy when you only have two people working on one team.

König reached the cabin, he looked insane. Those once sunken eyes now only dropped down to see the floor, covered with snow as it was. Hong-Jim was sitting outside on the small porch that was placed on the front of the house.

“Good shift?” He looked up at the man, desperation met questioning. “I assume it was, you were there for quite some time” König had nothing to say, he could only nod as he looked his partner up and down once more. The man was wearing two jackets and a pair of very insulated pants, all of which were white in color. But the thing that never left the man was the black ring that was adorned on his finger. Currently placed on his left middle finger, it still shimmered even in this small light, the stones glint bouncing off the somewhat visible stars.

“I've made you tea, next shift is tomorrow night, We’ll be out together for 12 hours.” Horangi took another sip from his cup, maintaining eye-contact with König. It wasn’t awkward as it was intimate, under the dark light König could barely see the man’s eyes.

Like the night, they faded in and out of his vision. Even for someone like König, who may have blue eyes making it easier to see at night, he could barely see the man. König finally went inside, grabbing that cup of tea he oh so badly wanted, and walking back out to the man on the porch. “What type of tea is this” There was no questioning tone in König's voice as he sat, just a conversation starter.

“Peppermint, it was the only thing I could find in the cupboard.” Another long sip was taken from the tiger. Silence fell between them once more, König rocking in his chair back and forth over and over again. It was a generally quiet night, the breeze ran past the two of them once in a while along with rustling of bushes. Horangi could still see some of the lights from the people below, shining like a newly polished diamond.

Horangi looked at König, those still dark eyes falling right between of where would be the bridge of König's nose as not for the mask he wore. Looking back again just as quick out at the scenery in front of both of the men, letting his eyes glance wherever they wanted to. “I'm sorry for ignoring you”

Horangi broke the silence, the silence that had them apart for at least a month if not longer. “Im sure your wondering why is acted the way I had.” König said nothing through this, though his body tense, he still listened with intent.

“Its alright, I should have apologized as well.” König started getting up, leaving his, now empty, cup on the porch. “I should be going, yes?” Hong-Jim had no words, nothing to say besides a confirming nod to the other.

“You should get some sleep as well, we have a long shift tomorrow.” König whispered before closing the door. Horangi could only look out at the mountains, they were beautiful. He had sat here waiting for König to come back since he left, trying to come up with anything to say to the man. Why he was absent, why he had been ignoring him since that prevalent morning, even if the reality of it was of nothing König could ever truly understand.

“Damn it” A soft sound left Horangi’s mouth, putting his hand over his temple while doing so. Maybe some sleep would do him good, he could figure out his thoughts later. No matter how much they bugged him.

Horangi brought both mugs inside, bringing in with him a bitter wind and soul of the mountain. It ran deep through the house, leaving its senses everywhere. Hong-Jim claimed the bed upstairs a long white ago, close to the heater where heat rise’s would be the best for the man.

He could hear the shower running, warm water letting steam come from under the door. And the smallest faint smell of pine seeping through the cracks. Now both mugs sat on the counter, pristine as the very peak of a massive rock. The slight light that came from both the black cups shined in his eyes, they matched the cabin quite well. Damp and rotting but still with insolated floors, creaky doors and panels, and a nice little porch to top it all off.

The stairs which he walked up had spider webs on them, they streamed every dark corner of this house. Leaving their mark in every room, beautiful patterns that traced the age of each corridor. His room was how he left it, warm, inviting, and slightly messy. His clothes were strung out on the floor, small notebooks coated his desk in the corner.

While he undressed, he wondered if he had offended König in any way, maybe he had been too forward with the man. Perhaps next time he should break things down slower, be nicer, or maybe be more firm with how he apologized. That got him thinking, what did König want to apologize for? The man had done nothing wrong, he helped Hong-Jim out at his worst for god’s sake, so why was he so distant. The tone between them earlier on the porch was relaxed, but on the ride over, he was tense the entire time. Like a small animal being caught in a trap, afraid and ready to jump at any small movement, and at any time.

While his mind wondered, his body found its way under the blankets of his bed. They were made of cotten, which made them itchy but warm, warm enough to put him to sleep while still listening to the sound of running water.

It was soothing to hear, it was almost as though he could feel the humid water fleet over his skin. Like König was right next to him, with him, what an enticing feeling it was, even though it was oddly tight and constricting.

König loved how the water ran down him, this showerhead was nowhere near as tall as the one on base, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying the feeling of it running over his skin. He was covered in dirt and grime, along with the horrible smell of sweat and fungus. It always seemed that his guillie suit would do that, leave the stench of old plant matter and dead things on his skin.

Tainting it with their terrible feeling, luckily enough, the water heater in this nowhere out in the woods cabin worked perfectly. The water was nearly boiling his skin off, which was exactly what König wanted, he had no urge for it to be luke-warm at best. He could feel his problems melt down from his chest to the porcolin bath tub that he stood on. He bent down letting his strawberry blond hair run through the water, sweat and grime dripping from his crooked nose down to the floor.

König stepped out, leaving half of his body still in the shower, allowing the water to drip from his sopping wet body. He looked like a wet dog, hair growing long enough to stick to the front of his forehead.

He couldn’t see himself in the mirror as it was too far down, but he could see his scarred chest and abdomen. He could feel nothing but anguish as he bent down to stare at his face, running his fingers over his clefted lip. It made him angry in a way, knowing that this is what people would have to look at if it were not for the mask he wore. König thought of how maybe things would be different if it weren’t for his father, maybe he would have been a more social kid. Perhaps he would have tried sports with others or gone out for something academically.

These were things the man thought of often, how maybe, just maybe, his life could have been different to how it was currently. Not to say that he didn't enjoy his life, but younger Jones could have been treated a little better by his mother and father.

After drying off, König dressed in a large sweater and some pajama pants before heading to his room, which was located next to the flight of stairs that Hong-Jim was sleeping on. Turning off the lights in the house, he made it to his room and lugged himself onto the bed. A large one fit just for him, or mostly fit for him, if anything it was good enough for him width wise. But if König were to try to stretch out on his bed all the way, his feet would be dangly off the edge enough for him to catch a cold.

So König slept in the fetal position, looking out the nicely placed window in front of where he was laying. The dark of night crept between the man's eyes as the slowly drifted off to sleep, wondering between old memories and new ones that could possibly be made. He could feel the cold emanate from the window, just barely brushing his skin under the covers.