Author's Note: Updating for the sake of updating, don't mind me! :D

Chapter Twenty-One: Silent Murder

"Hwo, you stole the last chocolate, you wanker!"

Baek's eyes flickered up from his newspaper, peering over the top of the pages to see Razer point an accusing finger at his other student. He watched intently as a now 16-year-old Hwoarang stood up a little taller, a hand on his hip, and raised his other hand, wagging his finger back and forth, "Well, I'm a guy. Of course I'm a wanker. It's my favourite thing to do after annoying you, Raze."

"Ass…"

At this, Hwoarang looked over his shoulder, "It's nice, isn't it?"

"What is?"

"My ass!" he crowed, checking himself out a little longer.

She rolled her eyes, looked away, and folded her arms across her stomach, thereafter resting her head in the palm of her hand, "Fuck you, seriously…"

"K!"

Turning her head to look back at the boy, she watched as he swiftly unclasped the top, metal part of his shirt, and then proceeded to unzip the green and orange clothing. Sliding it off one shoulder, he pulled his arm through the hole, and then pulled the rest of the garment onto the floor, resting his hands on his hips afterwards with a challenging, victorious smirk.

She mentally yelled at herself for staring at his toned body, for she had handed him victory. Placing one hand on her hip, she readied her left for a slap that the Korean knew was coming; and released it with as much force as possible, the stinging sound of the collision reverberating throughout the area. It was soon joined by two pained sounds, by both the attacker and the victim.

Baek placed his paper down beside him and stood from his chair outside. He opened the screen door, watching as she nursed her hand, and as he placed pressure on his struck right cheek. Fighting hard to contain laughter, he inquired, "What happened?"

"Don't ask, Baek," they answered in unison.

Shaking his head, a grin flourished upon his features. He turned away, walking down the long corridor, and ran a hand through his grey hair. The 43-year-old's hand trailed down the old, sturdy wooden door, resting on the doorknob thereafter. He turned it and walked outside, taking in the fresh air, feeling the breeze batter his clothes around. It wasn't a weak breeze, but it certainly wasn't strong. Exhaling, he strolled over towards the mailbox and opened it, extracting the mail inside.

Bills, bills, advertising, bills…

His grin grew, and his eyebrows shot up at the final piece of mail. Turning it over, he opened the envelope and extracted the items inside, before turning and entering the dojang once more, closing the door behind him. He lifted his head, seeing his two students (one of which had his shirt back on, finally) talking amongst each other, ending every sentence with 'in my pants' – another game of theirs.

"Damn you, in my pants," Razer sighed, "I did not expect you to say such a thing, in my pants."

"Too bad, in my pants."

"Shut up, in my pants!"

"I want you in my pants."

Baek couldn't help but release a roar of laughter at the comment. His hand rose to his mouth, where he tried to stifle his booming voice, but to no avail. Both youths turned to look at him, Hwoarang sporting that cheeky grin and sniggering, and Razer wondering exactly what her Korean counterpart said, and why it was so fucking funny. He eventually quietened down and waved them over to him, "Come over here, you two."

So they did. Hwoarang stretched his arms behind his head, "What's up?"

"I got something in the mail just now," he stated, still grinning.

"And…?" Razer remarked.

He pulled out the two, flimsy, small tickets, waving them around, "And they're yours."

Hesitantly, his oldest student grabbed one with a curious face and looked at it. He scanned the Hangul writing quickly and bit his lip, his eyes bulging. He looked to the Greek for a moment, before returning his gaze to his mentor, "Baek, are you serious? What – why?"

"Because," he said, "you both got your black belts, and you both know that it's not an easy thing… And this is my gift to you two, my present… for being wonderful students and wonderful friends. It is my congratulations and my thanks."

Hwoarang immediately jumped on the man and hugged him, "Thank you!"

Razer was still confused by the entire ordeal, but thanked Baek as well regardless. She took the last ticket from her master's hand and observed it. She could now read Hangul, albeit it took her a while to read what it, and she didn't always understand what it said. Slowly sounding it out in her mind, she waited, hoping that her brain would associate it with something she recognised. After all, some Korean words were borrowed and modified English ones.

Realising that she didn't know what was going on, Hwoarang grabbed her wrists excitedly, "Concert tickets!"

"To?"

"Story of the Year! And its tonight!"

She looked at Doo San again, "You got them?!"

A small nod.

She mirrored Hwoarang's earlier actions and speech, "How did you know they were coming out?"

"I browsed through the computer's history and saw that you two had been searching them," he let go of his student and patted her head, before turning his attention to the other male in the room, "…and I found some other things in there too, that someone forgot to clear before I got to my computer again."

Hwoarang bit his lip and stiffened up.

"Stop looking up porn on my computer."

"Yes sir."

"You kids ready to go?" Baek asked, standing at the door, spinning his car keys around his finger.

"Hurry up and put the damn battery into your MP3 player, Hwoarang!"

"Raze, don't get your fucking knickers in a knot," A click was heard, "There we go." He shoved the item into the pocket of his jeans, along with the large chunk of change given to him by his instructor. He looked up to the man for a moment, "Are you sure you don't want to take some back? This is a hell of a lot of money. I don't think we'll need this much."

"Its fine," Doo San replied, ushering the two out of the dojang door. He closed it behind him, turning to lock it, before moving towards the driveway, where his car was parked. Unlocking it, he continued, "It'll cover food, drinks, snacks, and whatever merchandise you wish to purchase, and then some."

"I think you're getting a bit senile, old man," he teased, sliding into the backseat, "Its more than enough."

"I like to spoil you two," he responded, untwisting the seatbelt, and turning on the engine. Turning, he put one arm around the seat beside him, and began to reverse slowly, "You know for a fact that I'm a family man. I don't have biological children, so you two are the closest I've got, so it's only right for me to spoil you guys occasionally."

"Why?"

He smirked in a fashion that reminded Razer of Hwoarang, "Because I can."

"Only reason you don't have kids is because you've never had sex."

"Please, by the time I was your age, I'd already screwed around with about five girls."

"What!?"

He laughed, driving down the road, ignoring the persistent male youth behind him, asking if it was true or if he had made it up, and if it was true, what was he doing sleeping around at this age. Drumming his fingers on the grey steering wheel, he turned on the radio and told his fellow Korean to interact with his silent friend, who was simply staring out the window, clutching her jeans almost nervously.

Glancing in the mirror again, he noticed that she was indeed nervous about something, but he was not sure about what. It was as though there was something in the pit of her stomach, forewarning her of something, and she was unsure of whether or not to follow it or not. If that was the case, then it couldn't be a mere coincidence that he felt the same. For the last week, he felt haunted, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it. At least Hwoarang was blissfully oblivious at the moment, he supposed.

Stopping at the lights, he opened the glove box next to him, remembering something. Seeing the sugary treat idly sitting there, he grabbed it, slammed the glove box closed, and tossed it behind him aimlessly, monitoring its descent into the Greek's lap through the mirror. He spoke as the traffic began to move finally, the lights permitting the vehicles to, "Sorry, it is a bit melted. I bought it yesterday and have been meaning to give it to you."

"Thank you," she said, peeling the wrapper away. Ignoring its melted appearance, she bit into it, savouring the sugar rush she craved earlier.

"Now you can apologise for hitting me this morning," Hwoarang sneered teasingly, "You got your damn chocolate."

"The only person, or thing, that I'm going to apologise to in regards to that slap this morning is my hand. Sorry, hand."

There was silence for a few moments, aside from the furious munching in the back seat. Before long, the Blood Talon piped up again with a grin, realising that this was a nice opportunity to make a completely random and amusing (at least, to him) statement, "You know, with the way you're eating that chocolate, you're asking to be molested."

Baek quirked his eyebrow at the statement, and heard Razer ask, "…What?"

"You heard me."

He contained a chuckle when he heard her move towards the left, away from his other student. She spoke, "Whatever, Hwoarang. You really need to stop saying such strange things, it screws around with your image, and I know you don't want such a thi –"

"If you don't shut up, I'm gonna shove my cock in your mouth."

"What?!" she hissed, narrowing her eyes, ignoring Baek's laughter.

"Yup, I'm totally gonna tape your mouth shut."

Razer palmed her face forcefully, ignoring the male laughter around her.

"So, why did you two want to get here early again?" Baek asked, walking the pair down to the entrance. They were almost there.

"So there's a smaller line," Hwoarang answered, looking around the place with an awed expression. He'd passed this place before, but he had never actually… been here. And he was enjoying every minute of it so far.

"Well, there already appears to be a line."

"…Fuck!"

"Language, kid."

He squinted, seeing the line of people come into view. With a sigh of relief, he said, "Yeah well, there's not as many as there otherwise would be, so we're in the clear and we'll get close to the front. Sweet. Seriously though, thank you so much, Baek. This means a lot to us, right Raze?"

"Right," she nodded, smiling appreciatively.

He said nothing, adjusting his red, leather vest over his plain, white shirt. Scratching his head, he continued to walk the pair to the end of the line, watching as a few of the teenagers in line casually smoked, giggled amongst themselves, and did other teenager things. One of the people, a male, was holding up a sign that said 'free hugs', and he was surprisingly getting them from random people passing by. Whenever he wasn't advertising the display of affection, he was sitting on one of his other male friends, much to his other friends' amusement, and the 'bench's' protest. Even a few others found it amusing.

What Baek found amusing, though, was that some people in the line recognised him as a King Of Iron Fist participant. One of them shouted out 'its Baek Doo San – the Killing Hawk – from the old tournament!', causing a few heads to turn; but he did not say anything in return, merely bowing slightly to acknowledge what they had said. Smiling a little, they reached the end of the line, and he shuddered, looking up into the greying sky, furrowing his eyebrows. Something wasn't right here.

His silence seemed to disturb Hwoarang, who was now frantically tugging at the short sleeve of his shirt, "Baek?"

"Yes?"

"Are you alright? You're so silent."

He smiled, "I'm fine, kiddo. I'm fine."

"If you say so."

"…Why do you have your bag here?"

"Water for both of us, MP3 player with spare batteries to listen to in the line, my phone, change of clothes –"

"Why do you need those?"

"Dunno, just packed them, for both of us. And jumpers. That's about it. Anyway, what time are you gonna pick us up?"

"Eh… I'll be here from 10:30 onwards, just across the road. I promise. If I'm not, just call me on your cellphone."

Taking both students and master by surprise, the 43-year-old lightly grabbed the Blood Talon and affectionately hugged him, patting the top of his head as though he were a child. Not sure what to make of this, Hwoarang hugged back regardless and said, "You're acting like we're going to die in the mosh pit or something. Relax."

He smirked, shoving him lightly once they let go of one another, "Yeah yeah. Take care of yourself, kid. I'm proud of you."

Razer hugged her Master too, burying her face into his side with a small smile, trying to conceal her worries, "Be careful."

He nodded, furrowing his eyebrows slightly, "I will."

He soon let her go and bent down slightly, so that they were face to face. Resting his hands on her shoulders, he watched as she furrowed her eyebrows too, curious as to what he was about to say, and bit her lip, trying to ignore the anxiousness that was swimming throughout her system. She found it difficult to face him because of it.

"Never start frowning, because you never know who will fall in love with your smile."

Perplexed by the spontaneousness of the statement, she nodded anyway, smiling a little, and watched as he stood to his full height, his hands falling off her shoulders. He walked back to the sidewalk and checked for a gap in the traffic. Once finding it, he walked across, his head held high, and once he got to the other side, he turned back, waving at his two greatest students, smirking as they hyperactively waved back. Once they turned away from him, Baek walked to his car.

"Is anyone thirsty?!" a bouncer yelled above the racket.

A hand shot up out of the squashed pit, shoving Hwoarang and Razer over to the side slightly. The Korean growled, looking at the boisterous man, who was eagerly lapping up the water being shot from the bottle. Shaking his head, he placed both of his hands back on either side of the strong, metal barricade, looking down at the girl who was trapped between them, "We're kinda close in here, huh?"

"Don't try anything," Athane answered, rolling her eyes with a smirk.

To her surprise, he did anyway, pressing his crotch harder into her behind teasingly, "So I can't do this?"

She hit him.

"I guess not…" he sighed, rubbing his cheek.

"No fighting in there," another bouncer hissed, shining light into their eyes.

"Hey buddy, mind getting that fucking flashlight out of our eyes?" Hwoarang replied, "We weren't fighting."

"Well see to it that your feisty female friend doesn't attack you again. Last thing we need are people fighting in here…" With that said and done, he strolled off, still holding the tiny flashlight, walking down the line once again, watching a girl in an extremely short skirt (he noticed, for sure) get carried out of the mosh pit. He rushed over to assist.

The lights dimmed. Razer turned and looked to her friend excitedly, "Is it them?"

Hwoarang said nothing, not sure himself, but assuming by all the screaming going on around him, he nodded a little, confirming both of their suspicions. Making sure the bag was in front of the barricade one last time, he placed a hand atop of the Greek's, and gripped the barricade tightly with his other hand, being shoved this way and that by other people behind him.

The lights came back, a faint purple at first, before fading entirely into a bluer colour. The screams of the youths were deafening, and their hands shot up, hailing the act they had come to see, excited that the time had come. All of the waiting in the lines, all of the waiting through the mediocre support acts, and finally, they had come and stood before them, armed with their instruments. The drums came in first, along with the singer, the guitar and bass awaiting the final line of the first chorus before slamming in, causing a surge in the crowd.

I can't see…

He stumbled through the thick smoke, coughing, and he can't see an inch or so in front of him, let alone whatever hosted the glowing, red eyes on the opposite end of the room. Terrified, he stepped back, waving the smoke away from his mouth, trying to breathe in the sweet air – but it was only temporary, and it started to choke him again and again and again. What he didn't understand though was why – or how – or when – this whole place went up in –

Covering his eyes with his other hand, he ran through his home, kicking down the back door with force. Running out into the open grass, he breathed in deeply, the air now no longer tainted; and turned around, looking behind him, seeing the entire area up in flames. He shook his head in anger and disbelief, watching as a beast rose from the crumbling rubble and the flickering frames. Clenching his fists, he took a few more steps back as the beast stood before him, illuminated by the fire behind him.

The red eyes burned.

Despite himself, he found himself speaking, "Kazuya?"

No.

He took one step forward, hissing.

Your name… it murmured, reaching an arm out.

He took another one back and ran to his right, watching as a fire blast destroyed some of the plants in the flowerbed beside the cherry tree. Unsure of what else to do, he ran forward and leapt into the air, a delicate, poised kick aiming for the thing's neck. But as he got closer, he watched as the skin he originally thought was human became a sickening green, and he realised that he was fighting a –

Monster? it asked, grabbing him by the ankle, throwing him into the ground opposite him, against the fence.

His body collided with the metal, a dent forming. He slumped forward, coughing, a hand on his chest. Looking up, he furrowed his eyebrows, watching as the green monster, doused in golden armour, inched closer and closer, "Who are you?"

Who am I…? it inquired, pondering the response, Who indeed. A God? It cackled, slamming a foot into the ground, watching as the opponent slowly rose to his feet, moving to attack. It prattled on, further angering the opponent… which was exactly what it wanted, Yes yes, according to some people, some cultures… I am a God. And I like that. Do you like that, human? Do you like that, mortal man?

With frustration, he attacked, throwing a variety of kicks and the occasional punch into his routine. He executed a throw, grabbing the beast by the head and slamming his foot into it, watching as his body fell back. Still in stance, he watched as the monster stood on his own two feet again. He dodged an incoming kick and realised, to his horror that they were in his image. The beast had taken his attacks and used them against him.

Ironic, isn't it? it huffed, taking to a different tactic. It back-flipped, its feet slamming into the chin of the man, and then impaled its left fist into the same area, watching as the body flew backwards and out of control. Once he fell and looked up again, the creature laughed, watching as the realisation dawned upon his face, You know this attack, yes yes! What about this one?

Two, quick left punches smashed into his face, followed by forceful right, again sending the man back. With an angered cry, he went down, and the beast's jittery laugh flooded the area. It was amused, even as it walked forward and grabbed the plaything by the front of his shirt, watching blood descend from his nose and his partially open mouth.

First you… then the Angel… and then the Devil.

Its other hand shot up to the man's throat, crushing tightly.

If they are supernatural, then what are you?

"Human…" he hissed, smashing his leg into the side of the beast, but to no avail.

Yes… it said, fangs slowly growing from within its mouth, horns slowly sprouting from its head. Its eyes faded from red to pure gold, You are a human. Just a human, and nothing more. A worthless, pathetic human, looking for redemption for his sins before he dies… but you're not going to get it. Never. Because this is it for you, mortal man… This is it.

Large, leathery wings, which were not there before, suddenly pumped; and he watched as the place became smaller and smaller, and as he lost consciousness – but would he ever wake up?

The Killing Hawk's final flight.

"Wake up, stupid!"

Razer felt cold water splash on her face. She blinked hurriedly and clutched the barricade again, "Huh?"

"You looked like you were about to pass out," Hwoarang remarked, worried. He briefly looked up to the bouncer who had splashed the water on her face, thanking him, before looking back to the girl in front of him, "Are you okay? Do you wanna get out or something?"

"I'm fine," she answered, smiling at his concern, "Was just a bit tired from all the jumping."

"Then stop jumping. It's the smart thing to do."

I am uneasy… Devil quipped, shivering. Her breathing was harsh and hurried.

So am I… "There's only one more song, right? They left, and they're on the second encore song… Means that there is only one left I assume."

"Probably."

The notes came in quick succession, three up, then two down in its pattern. One time. Two. Three. Four. The drums bashed in.

"Here it is here it is here it is! Been fuckin' waiting for this song! WOOOOOO YEAH!!"

Do you still remember back when
Days were longer,
Dreams were bigger then.
The weight of the world had not yet
Landed on the shoulders of a man.
I thought
I thought that time stood still,
Sheltered, protected.
They never told em this would end or
That the leaves would fall again.

"DUUUUUUUUUDE! OH MY FUCKING GOD, WHEN I SEE YOU, I'M GONNA KICK YOU IN THE SHIN AND THEN GIVE YOU A BONE-CRUSHING HUG!" Hwoarang yelled into the cellphone. He had called Baek, for he was not anywhere in sight, like he had promised. The duo had opted for going back to the dojang by bus, and both were still a little hard of hearing. The bumpy bus wasn't making things any better, and the glare from the bus driver had him quieten down, "You said you'd pick us up but you're not there and shit so, we've taken the bus home instead. Razer's a bit dizzy, I think the pit got to her, but she's alright; and I'm perfectly fine. Just hyper. So. Fucking. Hyper! See you, Baek!"

Razer opened her eyes when she felt breath near her face. She saw him hover above her, "What?"

"That wasn't too loud, was it?"

She pressed a hand to her throbbing head, "It was quite loud."

He smirked and kissed her forehead affectionately, "Sorry, Raze. Aside from the dizziness and shit, did you have fun?"

"Of course I did," she answered, patting his thigh, "And you did too, clearly. You almost have no voice left."

"Yeah," he grinned, resting his head on hers, ignoring the bumpy road, "I know. But man, that show inspired me. I mean fine, it wasn't all prettied up and shit, and it was hot and sweaty and loud, but that show fucking inspired me. It's really made me appreciate my musical talent. I want to share it now, I don't wanna just… hide it anymore. I've got what I've got, so I may as well show it to others. I might be up there one day, with Shin and Changy behind me, and some other random guy; and we'll be having so much fun."

"I hope this experience continues to inspire you, even in your times of doubt."

"Yeah. What do you wanna be when you grow up? I wanted to be an astronaut, as you know, but now I'm thinking more towards rock star," he laughed, "I'd get laid soooooo fucking much man. Like, women wouldn't be able to get enough of me, and they'd hide up in trees and kamikaze their way down, just to meet me, let alone get to my dick."

"…Kamikaze their way down from trees just to meet you, huh?"

"Hehe, yeah."

"Where do you come up with this shit?"

"No idea. But back to the original question, what do you want to be?"

"Mm… I do not really know, to be honest. I suppose I just want to be with someone," she shuffled a little closer towards him and rubbed her eyes, attempting to stifle a yawn too. The concert had made her very tired, let alone her slight fading out during it. What was most disturbing was she could not identify the opponent of the monster, but her heart told her it was someone very close – and that terrified her, "I see myself with someone, looking after him while he goes off and lives his dream with me by his side."

He smiled, "It sounds nice."

She smiled too, reaching out an arm to press the stop button on the bus. They were approaching the turn into their street, and once the bus stopped at the stop directly across from home, they would leap off of the vehicle, charge down the door and tackle their Master, hugging him around the legs, waist, anywhere – just to say thank you, because…

The bus stopped.

"Huh? Hey buddy, what's going on?" Hwoarang asked, "This isn't our stop, it's the next one."

Razer sat up a little, rubbing her forehead. Her human pillow had moved, also sitting up, and both looked out in front of them, a few houses down, and the firemen and the neighbourhood people that had gathered out the front of a burning house. The flames were soaring high into the sky, and the smoke flying even higher still, daring to touch the clouds and the heavens. The area was a blood red, tainted with the occasional orange, yellow, and the smallest smidges of pink breaking up the strength of the warmer, larger colours.

The dojang…

Both students abruptly leapt out of their seats at the back of the bus, and charged down. The few people that remained on the vehicle simply looked through the window, ignorant of the two panicking youths, one of whom was summoning all of his remaining strength to get to the area as fast as he fucking could, regardless of the ache in his chest, regardless the cold sweat dripping down his shoulders, and regardless of the dread in his heart.

Please… No.

Razer pushed through the gap in the crowd that the Korean had made. She heard him speak hurriedly in his native language, to anyone who would listen. She stood at the front of the crowd, holding his backpack, looking at the devastated area. The dojang's fence was completely destroyed, crumpled to the ground in black ashes. The front door, the walls were falling into themselves, the wood having long surrendered to the flames. Even the cherry tree in the backyard had been burnt, but it survived.

Nothing else did.

She covered her mouth and shook her head hurriedly, tears welling in her eyes, and if they wanted to fall, she would let them come.

This is…

"Please," Hwoarang began, "What happened? What happened to this dojang? What happened to my house!? I live here! Me and the European girl, we fucking live here, with our Master, Master Baek Doo San – he fought in the Second King Of Iron Fist Tournament, way back in Japan sixteen years ago – he teaches Tae Kwon Do classes here! What happened!? Someone answer me! Answer me…"

Their heads were bowed low, and some tried to answer, but they couldn't.

In a desperate attempt to get an answer, he fumbled in his pocket for his cellphone and hurriedly dialled Baek. Not even the message bank arrived like it had many minutes ago, and it was here that he started to cry. Flipping the phone closed, he slid it back into his pocket and ran up to the nearest fireman, who was calling the police to the scene. Unable to find the will to wipe his tears, he waited for the fireman to stop talking and look at him. When he did, he was trembling violently, "Who lit the fire?"

"It was not deliberately lit," he answered, patting him on the shoulder, "It was an accident."

"Did you find… Did you find a man in there? Is he alive? Did he make it? Please…"

He hesitated, and that was all the youth needed to know, "I'm sorry, kid. Baek Doo San is dead."

A silent murder.

Razer nodded slightly, her heart wrenching not only at the fire burning out, but at the state of the Blood Talon. He took several steps back from the fireman and the dojang itself, making another pathway through the crowd. Some moved to touch his shoulder, but thought better of it when they realised that his eyes were almost shut tight, and that tears were blurring the rest of his vision. He just cried and cried and cried in silence, without restriction or shame; and backed up all the way to the sidewalk, where he finally found the strength to turn away and sit, pulling down his goggles and pressing his forehead into his hand.

The two places you have ever called home were burnt to the ground, Devil chimed, as though entertained by the scene. Her host felt a few tears fall as she looked onto the scene before her, a sense of loss and grief overwhelming her, And the only two adults who treated you like you should've been in your youth burned with it. But where as you destroyed your home in Greece, I wonder who or what destroyed this dojang. You have lost everything. Again. But… so has someone else. Wondering in silence is not your main priority, Razer. That is not your main priority right now.

Breathing in, she wiped the few lingering tears from her face and bowed her head for a moment, Farewell, Baek. And thank you.

Go to him.

Without a word, she turned on her heels, still holding the backpack, and made her way to the lost boy on the side of the road, who was still shattered by the events. Seating herself on his left, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, thereafter pulling his head closer towards her in a comforting manner. She squeezed him a little after one particularly large shudder, and murmured into his hair, "Shh… Everything's going to be okay, Hwoarang. Everything will be alright."

"I never…" he swallowed, squeezing his eyes shut, burying his face into the curve of her neck, "I n-never thought this would happen… N-not again. I never even got the chance to thank him for everthing he did for me… Or tell him how much I cared. I never told him that I saw him as another Dad… and that I love him like a Dad…"

"He knew, Hwoarang."

He opened his eyes and sat up hurriedly, "He told you…?"

She shook her head, removing her left arm. Placing a loosely closed fist to her chest, she tapped it twice, "He knew in here. And he loved you just as much and appreciated everything you ever did, stupid or not. You may have lost your real parents due to a murder, but he is your second Father, because he raised you, fed you, clothed you, and taught you when they couldn't. You are his son. Not by blood, but just by bond. You are his son, and nothing can ever take that away.

"Just because he died doesn't mean he's gone either," she added. She placed her fist over his heart, and again tapped twice, "He's in here now, with your parents, in your little fort, and you protect them here. Nothing can take him away from you. Your memories are yours to keep, and if you look inside of you again, you'll see not only your Father and your Mother, but Baek too. He's in there…" she opened her hand, having her whole palm over it, "and so am I. We won't leave you. I won't leave you."

He placed a hand over hers, loosely clenching it, and desperately tried to speak, "I…"

Say it.

"…I… I l…"

She looked at him and waited, heart in her mouth.

He shook his head and merely resumed his curled position again, "I love you… And thanks."

"I am not the one you should be thanking. You should be thanking your teacher," she answered, holding him again. She looked over her shoulder, seeing that the fire was now entirely out, and the charred remnants of the dojang no longer gave off smoke. She watched as a fireman walked towards them with a blank expression, hoping to talk to the broken boy about what to do now. And she couldn't help but wonder, terrified, what would happen to them from here on in.

So take me back,
Back to better days,
'Cause this time between
Is wasting me away.
Take me back,
When we were not afraid,
'Cause this time between
Is wasting me away.