Jaehyung flicked his ear, much to his annoyance," Come on Ijin," Jaehyung said with a faint tone of exasperation in his voice," I know you grew up without any technology or stuff, but you gotta keep up with the news man."

He pinched Jaehyung's leg without looking away from the screen," Yeah yeah." In his defense.

After 10 years of just keeping to himself and living without any sort of technology, he had yet to get used to having information at his fingertips any hour of the day.

Though he did have to admit he did need to start keeping in touch with media. With the news at the very least.

"No dude look!" Jaehyung shoved his phone into Ijin's face, Hyeokjin and Seokju telling the redhead off for distracting the teenager," Look, man. You used to work there huh?"

That got his attention.

He looked down at the phone.

His blood ran cold.

Edijs Andris Krūmiņš,' Mad Dog' and his 50 operatives exposed'

His chest tightened.

Fuck.

Fuck fuck fuck!

His expression must have shown something, because there was a hand landing on his shoulder, Jaehyung gently asking," Ijin?"

It took almost everything he had to not shake off his friend's hand. Instead, he tried to keep his hand from trembling as he swiped down to read the article. Quickly skimming it to try and find the paragraph that he was dreading.

Instead, he found something much much worse.

His stomach churned dangerously.

He looked at the pictures, recognizing each and every person that was pictured.

They were all of his former teammates.

They were organized the way they had been structured.

He was at the very top of the group, with 002-010 right underneath him. Then in columns, with the squad, each of the top 10 had been in charge. While he as 001 had the authority to lead the rest of the numbered. 002-010 only had the authority to lead the numbered that had been assigned to their squads.

Some of the pictures, including 006 and 032 had a red 'deceased' slapped across their pictures.

Others, such as himself and surprisingly 040 had an orange 'deserter' slapped across his picture.

Otherwise, for the most part, the rest of the numbered were alive.

He glanced back up at his picture.

It was when he was 14 or so when his eyes were emptier and his hair was longer.

But it was undeniably him.

There was no way he was going to be able to convince people otherwise.

There was a sharp inhale from next to him, and the hand leaving his shoulder made him look up. At his friend who had seen the exact same thing as he had.

Jaehyung was pale, his eyes wide as they flicked between Ijin and the phone screen.

He must have fully processed it because Jaehyung's shocked expression slowly turned into one of horror and utter disgust .

"You…you were one of them…?"

There was something about the way he said that that made something in Ijin physically hurt.

"Jaehyung…" he started out, scrambling for the right words to say.

But what was he supposed to say?

One of his friends, one of the first ones in his life.

Just found out that he was a child soldier for one of the most ruthless organizations that existed in Grian.

"You…you killed people!"

His outburst caught the attention of the others. Internally, Ijin was thanking his lucky stars that for once they were playing a console game at Yeongchan's house. Seokju paused the game.

"What's wrong?"

Jaehyung snatched his phone from Ijin's hands.

It was those small actions that made something in Ijin's stomach twist and turn.

"He wasn't a fucking guide!" Seokju scrambled to catch the phone that was nearly thrown at him," He was a mercenary! He killed people for money!"

Now everyone was staring at him. Looks ranging from horror to disappointment, shock, and almost seething hatred.

He averted his eyes, shame burning deep in him," I had no choice Jaehyung." His words were quiet, but in the silence, it was like he had shouted them instead.

He truly didn't have a choice. There weren't a lot of options a nine-year-old orphaned amnesiac could pick from.

"Like hell you did!" Jaehyung roared at him, completely furious," You always have a choice!"

That made something snap in him.

Because in his short life.

The ability to pick had almost always been something that had been rare.

"Do you want to know what my choices were?!" He stood up from the couch, raising his voice for the first time since he met them," I was nine fucking years old!" he towered over Jaehyung, his fists clenched tightly as he almost screamed out his words, his actions causing Seokju to stand up and get in between them," I either became a mercenary or a sex slave Jaehyung! Those were my choices!"

Ijin was trembling where he stood, his chest heaving as he stood with Seokju forcing him away.

Regret flickered across Jaehyung eyes before it was replaced with anger once again.

"At least someone would want you."

There was no context given.

But Ijin knew exactly what Jaehyung was inferring.

It hurt .

He's been shot, stabbed, blown up, tortured, and had just about every single battlefield injury one could think of.

Yet.

Nothing hurt more than his close friend.

Or what he thought to be his close friend.

Telling him that it would have been better if he had been a sex slave.

He would have preferred getting shot in the foot than hearing something like that.

It would have hurt less.

Every single ounce of anger that he had felt towards Jaehyung had disappeared.

It was replaced by the almost overwhelming feeling of betrayal, hurt, disbelief, and sorrow.

It was completely silent, even Seokju, who had put himself between Ijin and Jaehyung to make sure it didn't become violent, completely froze. His eyes glanced over to Ijin, who had yet to move after hearing such words.

He needed to go.

His words were muttered under his breath, "I should have never come back to Korea."

He ignored the voices that were calling him back, jerked his arms and shoulders out of the hands that were trying to hold him back.

It was such a mistake to think he could have friends.

Extra: Scrapped Ending

The cold air stung his face. Burning in his lungs with each breath he took.

He cursed himself internally. He should have grabbed his jacket before storming out. It had his wallet and phone.

…no matter.

He should have never let the Major bring him back to Korea.

He should have never let himself get close to the others. He should have stayed that stubborn, cold bastard that he was known for.

Just another reminder of why he needed to be alone.

Even if Jaehyung hadn't said that.

He was going to have to disappear anyway. He didn't want to, but he needed to if he wanted to keep Dayeon and Grandfather safe. Now that his face had been slapped on that article. It was going to be a matter of time before either the government that prosecuted Mad Dog went after him or the numbered who remained went after him.

He was probably going to have to meet up with 006 and 032. Just so they could ride out that wave together and figure out just what in the world they were going to do.

The apartment building was warm, much warmer compared to the almost freezing temperatures Ijin had been running in for the past 30 minutes. Still, he rubbed his arms as he walked up to their apartment, trying to warm up a little bit more before he walked into their home.

"-Jin wouldn't do that!"

He froze.

"Maybe it's a misunderstanding grandfather!"

His stomach churned dangerously. Quickly becoming painful in a way that he hadn't felt before that day.

"How can it be a misunderstanding Dayeon!" his grandfather's voice was full of sorrow, almost sharp," there's no other way to take this!"

His eyes stung.

"Its has to be grandfather!" Dayeon sounded just as sad as grandfather," There's no way Ijin would do that!"

"You've seen his scars Dayeon!"

He winced.

It had been an accident he had let them see the scars on his arms. But with their encouragement, he realized that he didn't have to hide his arms when he was with them. Sure they asked some questions about the occasional scar, but they had never looked down on him for it.

"Where else could he get them!?"

God that was such a mistake.

Returning to Korea was such a mistake.

He turned around, walking back to the stairway that he had just exited from.

He needed to disappear anyway.

By the time he realized his feet were taking him somewhere he wasn't entirely aware of.

He was already standing right outside the door, his finger pressing down on the doorbell.

Was this really a good idea?

There was the sound of foot thumping against the floor, the sound of something being hit before falling to the ground, before being accompanied by the sound of curses.

He sounded mad.

This was a bad idea.

The door flung open and he was being yanked inside.

"God get in here you fucking idiot! Do you have any idea how long I've been cal- you're freezing! We-were you walking around like that all this time?! Fuck just stay here! Don't you fucking dare and move Ijin I swear to god!"

He shivered from his position on the couch, barely realizing that he was trembling after being out in the cold for so long.

Kang ran back to him, dumping a bundle of blankets onto him," You're such a moron," Kang muttered under his breath, quickly, but tenderly wrapping Ijin in the blankets. He finally realized that Ijin was not looking at him.

Yes, Ijin was looking at him, but he wasn't looking.

" Hey, Ijin," He put his hand on Ijin's shaking shoulder, feeling a little bit relieved when the teenager focused on him," Breath for me man, its okay."

Ijin paused, and Kang couldn't tell if that was a nod or a shiver before the teenager took in a shaky breath, quickly finding a rhythm that was less concerning.

It was better, but it still wasn't good.

He kept on wrapping up the teenager with blankets until he had no more blankets to wrap. Then he went to his kitchen to make a hot cup of coffee to at least warm up the kid's fingers.

He had to snap his fingers in front of Ijin's eyes just so he could get the kid to grab onto the mug.