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Ijin sighed and slowly ate as he contemplated what to tell the group of concerned people. It was after the hijacking that he had gotten stabbed. 003 was dead now, though.
The rest of The Numbers went to deliver her body to France; then they'd be back under contract with SW. Ijin would be their leader, naturally. A relatively normal life for all of them.
First, though, Ijin had to survive this conversation.
“… They called you 001,” the chairman said. Ijin nodded. “How?” Ijin tilted his head. “How are you 001 of The Numbers? You're only 19!”
“The oldest of us is 29,” Ijin shrugged. “And I'm not even the youngest, that's 032, he’s 17.”
Silence.
Ijin looked up to see the shock, anger, and… grief? The shocked and appalled looks he expected. However, grief? Did they… feel bad for them? For weapons?
He didn’t realize he said that out loud until he was hugged tightly by his boyfriend. Ijin blinked, but hugged him back.
“You're a kid,” Hamchan gaped. “Not a... Ijin…”
“I don't know why you're all like this?” Ijin blinked, but happily let Sukjoo join him on the hospital bed and cuddled close to him. Sukjoo started feeding him, giving him plenty of pause between bites. “I mean, it's the truth. None of us were kids by the time we came to The Camp.”
“What happened to you?” Yuna asked quietly. Ijin gave a bitter laugh.
“A lot. You need to be more specific.”
“I heard you were an elite group, put together by Mad Dog. You…” Hamchan frowned.
“I was known as The Reaper, I know,” Ijin shrugged. “There's a reason I’m 001 and the leader of The Numbers. I was brutally efficient. Plus, the others were loyal to me, not Mad Dog. They do what I say without question.”
“Maybe a little questioning,” 004 said, coming in with the others. He eyed Sukjoo, then shrugged. If 001 was with him, he had to be at least okay. 002 eyed Sukjoo like he personally offended him.
“Down, you overprotective ass,” 005 cuffed the back of 002's head. His glare promised a future sparring match she was not going to like.
“Ignore 004, he’s just an ass,” 032 deadpanned. He was munching on a family-sized bag of chips.
“He is good at provocation, but he’s way too reckless still,” Ijin sighed. 004 gave a glare.
“And who was the asshole who had to get surgery because of how fucked his intestines were?” 004 challenged. Ijin flipped him off.
“003 has been buried as per our traditions,” 016 said. “She may have been a traitor, but she died a Number.”
“She did go through her Trial with dignity,” Ijin nodded, feeling his side. “And got quite a few good stabs in.”
“… What are your ages?’Jiyeh asked.
“17,” 032 hummed.
“19,” Ijin said.
“20,” 006 said. “I’m 032’s blood brother.”
“22,” 005 hummed.
“23,” 016 said.
“24,” 004 and 002 answered.
“25,” 018 nodded.
“29,” 008 mused.
Everyone stared.
“You were kids,” Hamchan said.
“032 and I were on the run from a cult,” 006 deadpanned.
“I was a victim of a human trafficking ring for half a decade by the time Mad Dog bought me,” 005 shrugged.
“I was kicked out by my family for being queer,” 002 shrugged.
“I was a mercenary beforehand for nine years,” 008 said.
“And the rest of us were homeless,” 018 shrugged.
“And this amnesiac, you already know how he ended up with us,” 006 said and poked Ijin's temple. “He was a mess.”
“So were the rest of you,” he grumbled. “Not my fault I have a TBI.”
“Maybe that's why he’s so quiet,” 004 mused, “and not just because he's imitating 002.”
Ijin and 002 gave him a matching glare at the imitation comment.
“I think I'm gonna be sick,” Yuna said, looking green. “One of you was 7?”
“Yeah?” 032 shrugged. “At least I didn’t shatter 016's hip and leave him permanently screwed up like 008.”
“He broke my wrist,” 008 shrugged.
“Yeah, but now he has the fastest reload and is the best sniper of all of us,” Ijin hummed. 016 beamed. “Half my time I spent as a Number, but the latter half of my teen years as a mercenary, I was Mercenary Jin.”
“It was you!” 032 whooped. “The rest of you owe me 300 won!”
“…. I don't want to know,” Ijin decided. “Also, you knew this already.”
“I knew you were a mercenary. I didn’t specifically know you were Jin.”
“What were your specialties?” the chairman asked.
“Hacking and information gathering,” 032 said.
“I was trained to be a suicide bomber, but I’m pretty much an all-arounder, and great at hand-to-hand,” 006 shrugged. That did not seem to make the crowd feel better. “Hey, I got rid of the suicidal ideation! Mostly!”
“We're working on it,” 005 sighed. “I specialize in assassination.”
“Long range,” 016 said.
“Hand to hand,” 008 said, grinning wildly as he clutched and unclutched his fists.
“All-rounder,” 002 said.
“Mid-range and explosives,” 0018 hummed.
“Knives,” 004 said from where he was fidgeting with a butterfly knife.
Everyone turned their attention to Ijin.
“Torture and interrogation,” Ijin admitted.
“Only because you learned from being Mad Dog's favorite punching bag,” 016 pointed out. “He really hated you after you fucked up his eye.” Ijin shrugged.
“Plus, I took a majority of your punishments,” he admitted. They all gaped at him in silent shock.
“You ass! Why would you do that?” 005 demanded.
“I’m 001. You're my responsibility. I did it willingly,” he mumbled.
“God, you're an ass,” 005 groaned. Ijin shrugged and raised a brow. “Don't give me that look!”
“I can’t even hold a grudge for you running; this is bullshit,” 004 grumbled.
Ijin shrugged again and rested his head on Sukjoo's shoulder. He was exhausted, but he had to get through all of this.
“Sleep, 001; we can handle the rest,” 002 said. Ijin nodded and drifted off, cuddling close to Sukjoo.
“You were child soldiers, Jesus…” Hamchan mumbled, still processing that. Ijin was his kid, after all. Not by blood, of course, but the deep bond was there nonetheless.
“We’re mercenaries, not child soldiers,” all of them automatically corrected almost robotically.
Almost like they were trained to say it.
Shit.
“Okay, mercenaries, who were all children,” Hamchan said. “That…”
“I mean, we're just the lucky ones who survived,” 032 shrugged. “There were thousands of us at first. Only forty survived the initial training to become The Numbers.”
“Yep, and now there's only nine of us alive, as far as any of us know,” 006 nodded. None of them had any grief or sadness in their eyes for their fallen comrades. Emotions like that were tortured and beaten out of them a long time ago.
Sukjoo looked at his boyfriend, heart heavy. Ijin had gone through something like that? He suddenly felt a wave of guilt for how jealous he had been over Ijin's skills. None of them had gone into detail, and at this point, no one wanted any of The Numbers to. Sukjoo could only imagine what they had endured, what they had survived, to get where they are.
“… Yeah, all of you definitely need therapy,” Hamchan sighed. “Though I have a feeling none of you will go.”
“If you can convince him to go, we'll go,” 005 hummed and gestured to Ijin. “But good luck with that.”
“Yeah… He's certainly stubborn,” Sukjoo said with a sigh, stroking Ijin's hair. “I'll sic his sister on him.”
“That's playing dirty!” 032 complained. He had met Dayun. All of The Numbers nodded, knowing just how much Ijin adored and loved his sister.
“All’s fair in love and war,” Sukjoo shrugged, unrepentant. He smiled softly as Ijin shifted and curled in closer. The Numbers watched him closely.
“… I don’t know how you convinced that stubborn idiot he's deserving of love, but keep him safe for us,” 006 decided. “We can have his back in a fight, but… none of us are good when it comes to emotions.”
“It was hard,” Sukjoo admitted. “But worth it.”
“… Mmm,” 002 nodded his consent, then turned to the others. “Let's continue this conversation later. Visiting hours are almost over, and Ijin needs his rest. Though I don’t think Koh Sukjoo is going anywhere any time soon.”
Sukjoo gaped at him as they all left.
How did he know his name?