WhIP

by footfungus

nederlands verhalen over mijn otp

21. little women one

Portraits of Who We Were

cyberpunk_neverland

Summary:

A financial empire. An artistic whirlwind. A life of love and joy in the States. These are the paths that the Oh sisters chose for themselves after the trauma they endured at the hands of the Jeongran Society. Perhaps the hardest question they would ever have to answer again was simply, "Who do I want to be?" Perhaps that journey could have been enough.

But the world is cold and uncaring. And there are those who would stop at nothing to ensure the recovery of that seventy billion won, to take it piece by piece from the three women and one man who had stolen and divided it so carefully.

Join In-joo, In-kyung, In-hye, and Do-il as they fight for their happiness, their freedom, and their newfound lives of tranquility. The walls are closing in - walls they cannot even see, controlled by adversaries they never knew existed.

How do you leave the past behind, when the rest of the world refuses to see you for who you have become?

This story will contain spoilers for the entire show of Little Women. It begins around one year after the end of the show and will attempt to fit canon as much as possible.

Chapter 1

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

There was a lot that In-kyung had learned during her lifetime. And yet the longer she lived, the more she realized just how easy it was to still surprise her. Perhaps the most shocking lesson she had been shown was that she still possessed the capability for happiness.

And that in the end, love was still possible.

She did love him, she had finally realized. Maybe she had always loved him. But it had been her understanding of what love meant that had prevented her from knowing it. All those years, wasted, and for what? Because she was too stubborn? Too proud?

But no, wasted wasn't the right word. She had been doing important work. And in the end, hadn't it been worth it?

Those were questions that she would never know the answer to. And frankly, she wasn't sure if she cared anymore. Because what she had now was more than she had ever dreamed of.

In-kyung rolled over in bed and looked at Jong-ho. He was still asleep, but he looked just as tranquil as he always did. She remembered once telling him, incensed, that she couldn't love him, because he calmed her down. Because he didn't make her heart race. Now, she saw that statement for how laughably stupid it had been.

Jong-ho brought her peace. Something she had been searching for her entire life.

His eyes opened and he blinked at her, the sleep still heavy on his face. "You're awake," he said in confusion.

"Am I?" she asked. "It's hard to tell." She didn't explain what she meant. She didn't have to.

"You know something?" he said quietly. "Every time I wake up, I'm grateful. Just because you're here. Every day. It never goes away."

The sun was coming in through their window. The apartment they lived in was far nicer than anything In-kyung had been used to during her life. Even the light looked different here.

"I don't ever want to get used to it," she said. "Because if I do, it means I'll have forgotten what it cost."

She thought back. To the madness they had gone through. The trials they had faced. Things that would have killed any other person. Things that should have killed her. She, along with her sisters, had changed the world.

And this, then, was her reward. She couldn't have imagined anything better.

America was... different. She couldn't say that it was everything she had ever dreamed of, because she hadn't thought much about it before she had arrived. But now that she was here, now that she was with Jong-ho, she realized that this sort of freedom was what she had been looking for. It was a strange concept, being free while being with someone else. Once, she wouldn't have believed in it.

Now, it had become her entire reality.

"I love you," she said. It wasn't a whisper. There was no fear or hesitation in her voice. She said with absolute calmness. But at the same time, as she spoke the words, her heart sped up.

And she knew that yes, this was the life she had never dared to dream of. To be free. To be happy. To be safe in all the ways she had never been able to experience.

Jong-ho smiled at her—that soft, steady smile of his. "I love you," he said simply.

That was all he needed to say.

Often, she thought of her sisters. Of In-joo and In-hye, both living their own perfect lives. She talked to In-joo rarely now, only a few times over the past year. And In-hye... well, she was still somewhere out there in the world with Hyo-rin, creating the kind of art that most people could only dream of. The only contact that In-kyung had with In-hye was the single letter that the younger girl had sent, explaining the sudden appearance of the money. The letter had painted a strange picture, one that In-kyung had barely recognized. For all their strife and all the conflict that had arisen between the sisters, In-hye had never stopped loving her family.

But like so many other young girls, she hadn't know how to show it.

In-kyung stared at the ceiling and watched the beams of light play across it. It really was true. Even the light looked different here.

"When we're old, what do you think we'll be like?"

In-hye looked at her friend with confusion. "What?"

"You know. In the future, when we're old ladies. What will be like? Will we be the same?"

In-hye smiled to herself. She couldn't help it. Sometimes, Hyo-rin just said things like that. Seemingly ridiculous questions that at their heart, really did mean something. And that deserved a proper response. She took a moment to gather her thoughts before responding.

"I don't think people change that much," she said finally, not taking her eyes off the canvas she was working on. "I think that when you're old, you're still the same. You don't change."

"Then why are adults always so...?" Hyo-rin's voice trailed off, but her implication was clear.

"Sometimes, people lose themselves," said In-hye. "It's just that when you're old, you've had more chances to get lost."

Hyo-rin nodded solemnly. She always took In-hye's word as pure truth. It was strange to In-hye, even though they had been together, traveling the globe for over a year now. Hyo-rin had seen so much more, had experienced so much. In-hye had just been the daughter of a penniless woman. What made her words matter more than anyone else?

But sometimes, there weren't answers to questions like that. Sometimes, things just were.

"So who are you?" Hyo-rin asked.

In-hye considered that question while she continued to paint. The image on the canvas was beginning to take shape. In-hye could see already, of course. But someone else, someone without her prodigious skill, would see little more than a blend of color. For now.

"Why don't you tell me?" she asked.

Hyo-rin smiled. "That's cheating. And anyway, wouldn't you know better than me?"

In-hye thought back to the months they had spent together, the countries they had visited. The sights they had seen. She thought back to that first night they had disappeared together, to the feeling that had come with their departure. And she realized that she didn't know the answer to that question.

When In-hye opened her mouth to respond, she spoke with great care. "I spent a long time thinking that who I was didn't matter. Because the world only saw me for what I appeared to be." Her brush continued to move, seemingly with a mind of its own. "Oh In-hye, the poor girl. The one who could never be like the rest of her peers. And maybe that was true. But that was only one truth. It turned me into a flat image." She smiled and her brush began to add another series of long, smooth strokes. "In the end, there were so many images layered on top of me that the only thing left was a blurred mess."

Hyo-rin said nothing. Her face was a still mask of concentration. Her eyes looked like pools of glass.

"So what do you see when you look at me?" In-hye asked, finally taking her attention from her work. "Because I think I lost sight of it a long time ago."

Hyo-rin looked at In-hye thoughtfully. She didn't say anything for a long time. When she did speak, her voice was almost shy.

"You tried to hide it, I think. From the moment I met you. You tried to make it look like you were only pretending to care. But you did. About your sisters. About... me. I saw someone who was afraid of the future, but not for themselves. For other people. And then when time went by... I think you forgot the mask. You stopped making it look like an act. That was when I knew I had always been right about you."

In-hye didn't know what to say. She just stood there, in front of her canvas. It took a moment for her to realize that she was smiling. She was hard pressed to say why.

Eventually, though, she understood.

Someone had seen through her lies. There had been one person, at least, who had always believed.

When she had been a child, In-joo had dreamed of a life just like this one. High rises and boardrooms, black dresses and flawless jewels. But in all of those dreams, she had never seen a path that would bring her to that goal.

She certainly had never dreamed of the events that had actually occurred.

The world was different now, but it seemed like few people knew just how much it had changed.

Sometimes, In-joo worried. Not about money—she didn't think she would end up having to worry about money ever again. No, she worried about the money she now had. About how she had acquired it. About who had acquired it for her.

Her thoughts were cyclical in nature, a labyrinth with no exit. Does it not make me just as bad as the ones I was trying to stop? How do I deserve freedom anymore than Hwa-young?

She knew the logical answers to those questions, of course. But logic fell easily to the impassioned arguments of her heart.

People told her that she had transformed. When they said this, she smiled and nodded, agreeing with them on surface, but only blankly considering their words on the inside. Had she transformed? Or had it only been her circumstances that had done that? She knew they meant well, but it was hard for her to understand their point of view.

Of course, once, she had thought just like that. She could have easily been one of the faceless crowd, taken aback by a fine display of wealth. Instead, she had learned something different.

But what she had found and what she had learned were two different things.

Now, she was the ruler of a vast domain. Her aunt's legacy had fallen to In-joo. That meant her estate. Her debts. Her business.

And that meant digging the business out of the hole that it had apparently fallen into. Anyone else might have turned up their nose at the prospect and walked away. But In-joo hadn't forgotten what Hye-suk had said. As long as she had a place like that apartment, then she could find a way to start over.

Starting over. What a strange phrase. Because what she had done wasn't so much start over as it was step into an entirely different life. And she had done it alone, which was a state of being that she had never had much experience with. Her whole life had been spent with her sisters, and then she had been practically side by side with Choi Do-il the entire time they had been facing the Jeongran Society.

Now, she had none of them.

In-kyung was in America, happy and in love. In-hye was... always somewhere new. And Do-il...

In-joo tried to not think of him.

Their final moments had been too brief for her, even if she couldn't explain why. There was a terrible nagging sense of incompleteness. There were words that she had wanted to say, but even now, even a year later, she didn't know what they were. And it was that uncertainty that made her loathe to remember him, even if at the same time, all she wanted to do was think about the few brief quiet moments they had been able to share.

He had promised that she would see him again. But she knew now how hard promises like that were to keep. She hadn't heard a word from him since he had left for Greece. And she knew better than to expect anything other than that silence for the rest of her life. It wasn't his fault. She didn't blame him.

But at the same time, she missed him terribly.

She missed the way he spoke—quietly, but without a shred of doubt. The way he tried so hard to control every aspect of the world around him. The way he just always seemed to know what to say, even in the most impossible of circumstances.

His infuriating habit of being right, especially when it came to her own safety. Positively maddening.

She missed it just the same.

But she was starting over, and that meant there was no Choi Do-il to catch her if she fell. Everything she had done since taking over for Hye-suk, she had done by herself, with her own abilities. And she had been quite successful.

He would be proud, she often found herself thinking. Sometimes followed by, He would be surprised. Sometimes followed by, Well, there's no reason for him to be surprised! And then she would remember how frustrating he could be. And how comforting that frustration had ended up being.

She was lost in a series of thoughts just like that one when the door to her private open was thrown open. No knock. No warning. Just the loud crashing of wood striking wall, followed by a commanding voice.

"Oh In-joo, you're under arrest."

She looked up from her desk, her eyes wide. She knew what expression was on her face. It was one that she had worn many times, but not recently, not in the past year. One of utter surprise and shock. The kind of confusion that was brought on by innocence.

In-joo's eyes widened as several suited men stepped into her office. The man who had spoken approached her with handcuffs. In-joo found herself frozen, though not mute. "For what? Who are you?"

The man flashed a badge at her and she felt the blood drain from her face. Interpol? What on earth was Interpol doing here? Everything she had done since rising to the head of the company had been strictly above ground. She had made sure of it.

And then she knew. The answer was obvious. Everything she had done since becoming the head. But before...

"Misappropriation of funds, theft, and fraud, to start with," said the Interpol officer. He was young, perhaps not much older than she was. But he had a kind of weariness in his eyes. Like he had already seen too much. In-joo understood that better than anyone.

She rose from her desk, attempting to remain calm. "There's no need for the cuffs. I'll come with you. I'm sure this is just a misunderstanding."

The man looked strangely, almost apologetic. "I wish that were the case. You've been doing good work here. I'm sorry, ma'am, but I have a job to do." He lifted the cuffs gingerly. "So if you don't mind?"

In-joo did mind. She minded quite a bit. But she couldn't let him know that her heart was pounding, that she was beginning to sweat. That for the first time since she had taken this position, she was finally understanding just how alone she really was.

The cuffs closed around her wrists. But it felt more like they were locking around her throat.

A pile of papers sat next to the desk. They were crumbled, torn, mostly unreadable. But a few still bore legible words, written in a careful, neat script. And on the ones that could still be read, there was a name that might stand out to anyone who looked close enough.

In-joo.

He had tried. He had tried to write to her. It was the only safe way to still communicate with her. But every time he had sat down to write something, it hadn't sounded right. It never sounded right. And now, all that remained was a pile of papers that he was simply unwilling to throw away.

Eventually, he had given up. Too much time had gone by. Anything that he wrote now... it would just sound forced. Like he was trying to make up for missed time.

And what was there to say anyway? "I hope you are well." "I wish you the best." Phrases that amounted to nothing.

However, what was not in the room was more interesting than what was. Because the room was unoccupied, which was a rarity for these days. It had been unoccupied for the past twenty-four hours, after the owner of the room had received an urgent transmission.

They know. They're coming for her.

Choi Do-il was gone. And he didn't know if he was ever going back.

Maybe she would hate him. If that was the case, he would accept it. She would be justified. But more than that, she would be safe.

He would never let her fall headlong into danger by herself. No matter how much distance separated them, no matter how impossible the circumstance—

He would find a way. There was always a way.

Anyone who knew him might be surprised to learn that was how he thought. After all, his personality was that of a realist, perhaps bordering on cynicism. And maybe, for someone else, that might be true.

For him, it was much simpler.

His thoughts weren't guided by optimism. Nor were they guided by faith in a higher power.

There will always be a way. All I have to do is find it.

And like clockwork, he never failed to find the way.

So as the private jet rose into the sky, Do-il found himself looking at the window with a calmness that might have perplexed anyone who knew what he was flying into. For him, it made all the sense in the world.

Soon, he would be where he needed to be.

In-joo would be safe. He would make sure of it. Whatever happened after that...

Well, there was no point in thinking about that which he could not change. Instead, he closed his eyes and leaned back, and dreamed of a different time. One where he had been mired in danger that most people could never even imagine.

And yet, things had been so simple. There had been no pile of papers next to his desk. There had been no need for ink.

Just actions. And words.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! I hope you stick around for this journey. If you've seen my other works, you might know what to expect for this one. I will attempt to fit canon and continue the story of the show. I don't know how long it will be, but I can tell you that it will certainly be novel length.

I hope you enjoyed! Comments and kudos are very appreciated!

Chapter 2

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"So tell me, Ms. Oh. If your aunt left the business to your sister, if your sister was the one who was supposed to take on her debts and liabilities... then why are you the one in charge?"

In-joo's eyes flicked around the Interpol interrogation room. It was plain white and barely furnished. She had been here for hours now, and they had only asked her the simplest, most pointless of questions.

"I don't understand why that matters," In-joo answered. "That's not a crime."

The Interpol agent that sat across from her was the same man who had cuffed her. And like before, he looked nearly apologetic to have to be speaking to her in this way. "No," he said. "But it's somewhere for me to start."

In-joo shifted uncomfortably in the chair that she sat in. They had taken her cuffs off, but that had done nothing to alleviate the feeling of dread that had been building in her since she had gotten in the car that had taken her to the Interpol headquarters. The entire drive there had paced by in a blur of anxiety. What was happening? Why?

"I don't understand," she said again. "I've done nothing wrong."

"That's what I'm here to determine," the man said with a pained expression. "If you could just answer my questions, I'm sure we can get through this faster."

She didn't trust him. Truthfully, she didn't trust anyone. She hadn't for the past year, since Do-il had left.

"I'd feel more comfortable speaking if I had a lawyer," In-joo said. "When can I call mine?"

The agent looked confused. "What? Your lawyer is already on the way. We were notified shortly after you were arrested. I assumed..."

In-joo's head hurt. She hadn't contacted anyone. Her lawyer couldn't know what had happened. So who...?

"You were wrong," In-joo said. "So I'd like to make a phone call."

The agent shuffled a few papers in front of him. "Right. That wouldn't be a problem." He stood from the table, then paused. "But while we're talking... you were right. It wasn't a crime that you took over the company. I'm just curious—why did you?"

In-joo considered her options. She didn't have to respond. She didn't know this man's name, she didn't know why she was here, and there was no obligation to answer the question. But for some reason, she felt compelled to tell him. There was no harm in what she had done.

"In-kyung didn't want it," In-joo said. "That had never been her life. She had found... something else. Something that made her happier."

"Right," said the agent. "She moved to America. But what about you? Were you happy?"

In-joo opened her mouth to respond. Nothing came out.

"You're not a bad person," said the agent. "I want you to know I really do believe that."

"That doesn't make me feel any better when I've been arrested, cuffed, and locked in a room," said In-joo, injecting more strength into her voice than she felt. "I would really like to make that call now."

The agent looked at her for a moment longer, then nodded and left the room without another word. Once he was gone, In-joo exhaled, and nearly collapsed onto the table. She realized that she was shaking, and she wondered if she had been doing that the entire time she had been talking to the agent. Did he know just how scared she was? Was that why he was being so kind to her?

She was only just beginning to comprehend just how much trouble she was in. Arrested by Interpol—an organization that only worked on an international level. That meant there was another organization, one that was from outside of Korea, that was investigating her. And she didn't know anything about it.

What had she been thinking? This wasn't her world. Even if she had spent a year of her life integrating herself into it, it was still all a mistake. All of it. She should have taken her money, her apartment, and just lived a quiet life by herself. There had been no reason to take the business over from In-kyung. What difference did it make if her aunt's legacy vanished? At least this way, In-joo would be free. And alive.

Her spiraling thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. She looked up abruptly to see the agent reentering the room, this time with her cell phone, which had been taken from her when she had been brought into the Interpol building.

He handed her the phone and sat back down. "I think we got off to a bad start. I'm agent Ko Min-jun. You're Oh In-joo. And truthfully, I've been impressed with the work you've been doing with housing across Korea. Perhaps not the most lucrative, but you seem to be like the kind of person who understands that there are more important things in life than money."

"Like freedom," In-joo said quietly.

Min-jun swallowed. "Yes. Like freedom."

"I'd like some privacy," In-joo said, though she was aware that whatever she said on the phone would likely be recorded. "If that's okay."

Min-jun looked at her awkwardly. She was becoming more certain that there was something else going on here, something that she didn't understand at all.

"I... have to be in the room with you," he said. "If you have access to the phone. I'm sorry."

"How is that legal?"

"Because you're technically wanted for international crimes," said Min-jun.

"You haven't told me what they are yet," In-joo said. "How am I supposed to trust anything you tell me?"

But she could tell by the look on Min-jun's face that he wasn't going to change his mind. Nor did it look like he was lying. He didn't even look like he was trying to keep anything from her. If anything, he looked about as unhappy about the situation as she did.

In-joo didn't care. She just shrugged, picked up the phone, and dialed a number that she hadn't dialed in quite some time. The phone rang once. Twice. Three times. In-joo wondered what time it was in America. She never could keep track of the time zone difference.

On the fourth ring, In-kyung picked up.

"In-joo? What is it? What's wrong?"

Ah. The time must have been strange then. Well, it couldn't be helped. In-joo took a shaky breath, glanced at Min-jun, and then began to explain in a quiet voice everything that happened to her in the last few hours.

Do-il was in a car and speeding only minutes after his plane had touched down. Everything had been waiting for him. He had always been prepared for this eventuality. When he had told In-joo that he would see her again, this was not the circumstance that he had been hoping for. But it was one that he had been ready for.

The car was fast, responsive, and capable of moving in and around traffic without too much trouble. Yes, he was violently breaking just about every traffic law in the book, but he doubted any law enforcement would be able to keep up with him, let alone pull him over and do something about it.

And anyway, this was an emergency.

He made it to the Interpol headquarters in record time, parking the car and exiting in one smooth motion. He didn't have much with him—there hadn't been time. A briefcase, a few essentials still in the car, but that was it.

By now, he knew they would have arrested her. But if his information was correct, it couldn't have happened more than a few hours ago. Which meant that if he had been fast enough—and he was quite sure he had been—then things hadn't gotten too complicated yet.

He strode through the front doors of the headquarters, carrying his briefcase, walking as if the building belonged to him. His suit was carefully tailored, perfectly cut. It probably cost more than the salary of the average employee here. But it wasn't about being better than other people. It was about sending a clear message.

"Can I help you, sir?" a nearby guard asked as he entered, before he even made his way to the front desk.

"Yes," he said. "You can take me to my client, who I believe was arrested earlier today. You should be expecting me. I'm her lawyer."

"I'm going to need to see some kind of identification," the guard said, with a slight frown.

Do-il shrugged and handed over the requested document. The guard looked at it, then passed it to the woman at the front desk, who seemed to be comparing it to a list. She nodded, then handed it back. Do-il accepted the card impatiently. "Can we go now? Who knows what your agents are saying to my client? And it'll be on their heads if they've violated even one regulation."

The guard looked annoyed, but not surprised at the threat. Do-il imagined that he likely heard that kind of thing all the time. How many times were threats like that followed through on?

"This way," said the guard. "You'll need to go through security first."

"Fine," Do-il responded. He wasn't concerned. Any weapons had been left in the car, and he didn't have anything on him that would trip any alarms. But his impatience was only half an act. In-joo was here. Nearby. He would be seeing her shortly. And these people were keeping him from her.

It was a strange feeling, one that he couldn't quite put a name to. Maybe there was no name for it. In either case, the uncertainty made him uneasy. He hated not knowing. Knowing was what he did. It ensured his success. His safety. His future.

And this nameless emotion was the very definition of not knowing.

He didn't like it.

But as the guard let him through the hallways of the building, through security, and toward what was surely the interrogation room, he let himself sink into the role that he had occupied for so long. The role that had become his life.

The guard stopped in front of a door. Do-il knew before the man spoke that this was the room he was looking for.

"She's—"

"I know. Let me in."

The guard looked at Do-il one more time with suspicion. Do-il maintained eye contact, his face completely impassive. Finally, the guard reached for the electronic door lock and keyed in a code. There was a pause, then a buzz, then the sound of the lock disengaging. Do-il didn't drop eye contact until his hand was on the doorknob.

And then it happened quickly. He opened the door and stepped into the interrogation, his stride firm, his posture tall. The door hadn't even closed behind him when he saw her.

Oh In-joo, looking just as she had when he had left her at the airport. Her eyes, wide, full of confusion. Her lips, slightly parted, just on the precipice of asking a question. Her hands, delicate, yet strong from a life that had been full of struggle and perseverance.

She hadn't changed. Not at all.

Her clothing was different. But aside from that, every single detail on her face was exactly as he had remembered it. Do-il wondered why that surprised him so much. After all, it had only been a year. Not nearly enough time for her to have undergone any serious change.

But then the surprise was gone, swept away by the feeling his of chest unlocking, a tightness that he hadn't noticed suddenly disappearing. He felt like he could breathe again. And he realized that from the moment he had received the transmission, all the way until now, his entire being had been filled with fear.

All of these thoughts crossed through his mind in a fraction of a second. He acknowledged each one individually, then pushed them aside as he saw the suited agent sitting at the other side of the table, opposite In-joo.

"I have to go," murmured In-joo. "I'm alright, In-kyung. I'll call you later. I love you."

She put her phone down on the table and stared at him, seemingly unable to speak. He understood better than she might have thought. He didn't know what to say to her either.

"I'm Ms. Oh's lawyer," Do-il said smoothly, stepping to the table and placing his briefcase on it. "What seems to be the problem?"

The agent looked at Do-il warily. "I'll give you two a moment alone then, yes?"

Do-il opened the briefcase and pulled out a few sheets of paper, then offered them to the agent. "No. That wont be necessary. Because unless you can tell me what she's been charged with and if you're actually arresting her, then this entire exercise is pointless. Interpol wouldn't be involved if you weren't working with another government, and I can assure you that Ms. Oh has done nothing to violate international law."

He wasn't bluffing. The papers in his hands were simple print-outs of regulations that he was sure that Interpol had not properly followed. She would need to be released, and they would be on their way. He would check her books, make sure everything was cleaned up, and ensure that nothing from her past could come back to haunt her.

Then, once again, he would leave.

The agent surprised Do-il by standing and stepping forward. It wasn't a threatening maneuver, but it was quite deliberate. "I know exactly who you are, Choi Do-il."

Do-il blinked. He couldn't help it. He made damn certain to keep any other trace of surprise off his face. But for this man—this seeming nobody—to know him on sight? Maybe things were worse than he had imagined.

"I know you thought that fleeing the country and disappearing would simply solve all your problems, but things are a little more complicated than that. So don't bother pretending to be her lawyer. You don't have anything to hide from."

Do-il said nothing. He simply stood there, as close to statue-like as possible, his breathing slow, even, and barely perceptible. The agent's voice wasn't threatening. It was the tone of someone who was speaking the absolute truth. Someone who had no doubt in what they were saying.

It was a tone that Do-il was used to employing himself.

"You're wrong about one thing," Do-il said eventually. "I'm not pretending to be her lawyer. I really am."

The agent smiled, just a little, then reached out and took the papers from Do-il. "I'll be back. Enjoy your reunion." With that, he left them, the door shutting and locking once again behind them.

Do-il stared at the chair where the agent had been sitting. He exhaled, just a little, then turned to the woman sitting beside where he stood.

And for the first time in more than a year, his next words were directed at Oh In-joo.

He was here. He was really here. She wasn't imagining it. And of course it was him, who else would have even known? How had he known?

What kind of stupid question was that? He had always known, even when it had been impossible.

She stood up from her chair and stared at him. He was less than a foot away from her, his eyes locked on hers, those calm, serious eyes that always seemed to be just barely holding back a typhoon.

They stood there like that, their eyes locked, not saying anything to each other. What did she say after a year apart? More than twelve months of silence, twelve months of wondering if he was safe, if he was even alive—

She knew exactly what to do. It was obvious, really. She would have done it the moment he had walked into the room if she hadn't been on the phone with In-kyung.

In-joo reached out and slapped him across the face with her open palm, hard enough for the sound to bounce off the walls of the small interrogation room. The action was so sudden and sharp that it surprised even her, but as always, he simply bore a frustratingly unflappable expression.

"You do know that they can see us?" he asked with the tiniest hint of a smile, and she felt her blood boil.

"I don't care," she said, once again surprising herself with the force in her words. "You disappeared. I didn't even know if you were alive! And now you're just back because I was in trouble?"

Do-il's face didn't change. He didn't look taken aback by her outburst at all. For some reason, she felt ashamed. Did that mean he had expected her to react like that?

"Were you watching me?" she asked. "How did you know to come here?"

He didn't respond at first. When he did, he spoke in the same quiet tone that she remembered so well. He really hadn't changed.

"Are you going to slap me again?"

She opened her mouth to respond, but nothing came out. She stared at him. As unreadable as ever—or so he thought. But she could see something in him, the same spark she had always seen. The quiet fact that he cared , maybe more than anyone else had ever cared for her, except her sisters. It was the reason why she had always trusted him, even when others had been telling her not to. It was the reason she was so angry—because if he had cared, how could he have just left like that?

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I think that might depend on what you say next."

He smiled at that. Then he took the seat that Min-jun had just been using and sat down. "When I told you that I would see you again, this wasn't what I had in mind."

She wanted to ask him what had been in his mind. Had it been the same things she had been thinking of? The things that seemed so impossible now that he was here that she couldn't even bring herself to remember them?

I was a fool.

"Do you have a plan?" she asked.

He didn't need to respond to that. She already knew the answer.

"I was never going to let you fall into danger by yourself," he said. "You never deserved any of it."

And for a moment, she felt like she had gone back in time, back to twelve months ago when she had been drowning in fear and uncertainty, back to when the only things she had were her family... and him.

"You never really knew me," he said, and strangely, she thought she heard a trace of sadness in his voice.

"You're wrong," she said. "I think I might have been the only person who ever did."

The fear was gone then. Because even if she was furious at him, even if a year without a single letter was too much to let go—they were together again. And she knew that no matter what happened when Min-jun walked back through the door, they would be able to face it.

Because finally, they had each other. They were no longer alone.

Notes:

Thank you SO much for the lovely response to the first chapter! I didn't expect that much interaction at all, even as a best case scenario. I'm so glad so many people enjoyed it!

In fact, your reaction was so wonderful, you inspired me to knock out chapter two in a single day. I know all my updates won't be this fast-I usually aim for two a week-but after seeing how many people read and responded to the first chapter, I just had to make sure you could see what happened next.

Thank you for reading! I hope you stick around. There's A LOT more to come ;)

Chapter 3

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When In-kyung hung up the phone, she knew just how wild her eyes must have looked. Because Jong-ho was staring at her with an expression that bordered on fear. "What's wrong?" he asked. And then he waited. He didn't push her. He didn't panic. He just waited.

In-kyung tried to calm herself. After all, her sister had done nothing wrong. Interpol must have made a mistake. Or maybe it was in reference to something that another party had done. Maybe it was just an association.

But those assurances sounded weak, even to her own ears. And after everything they had done a year ago... there were plenty of reasons why the law could be after any one of them.

But Interpol? There was something else happening here, something that she didn't understand. Something that she could barely even see.

In-kyung took a deep breath and explained everything that her sister had just told her. It was late and she had been tired, but right now she was wide awake. When she finished speaking, Jong-ho didn't respond at first. He seemed to be thinking, his expression as tranquil as always.

"When do you want to leave?" he finally asked.

In-kyung blinked. "What?"

"To go back to Korea," he said. "How soon can you be ready?"

She was stunned into silence, not knowing how to respond. She had, of course, wanted exactly that. But how did she ask him to upend the life they had started for themselves so that they could once again fall headlong into a world of danger?

But of course, she should have known better. She would never have to ask, because he would simply offer. It was what he did. It had always been what he did.

"I can't ask you to do that," she said. "You have a life here now."

He smiled. "My life is wherever you are."

"You don't have to do this," she said. "This isn't your responsibility."

"You don't really think that I would just sit here and let you go by yourself, do you?" Jong-ho shook his head. "I thought you knew me better than that."

She could have kept protesting, but she knew that she would never be able to change his mind. Instead, she just smiled. "Thank you," she said. "You don't know—"

"I do," he responded calmly. "Because I know you would do the same thing for me. Don't you know by now, In-kyung? I'd follow you anywhere. No matter where it leads."

In-kyung wanted to enjoy this moment of peace, because she knew that it would likely be one of the last they experienced for a long time. So instead, she committed it all to memory—the low light, the expression on his face, the feeling of peace and gratefulness in her heart.

And then she let it go. Because once again, there was work that needed to be done.

Min-jun returned to the room a few minutes later. It felt like it was too soon. In-joo knew that she wasn't really alone with Do-il. Interpol could hear every word they said to each other. But even the illusion of privacy was better than nothing.

Yet, as always, it was gone too soon.

"You're a good liar," said Min-jun, closing the door behind him. "But you're no lawyer. You don't have a certification under any alias."

Do-il shrugged. "I don't see why that matters. I'm perfectly capable of representing a victim of an unjust arrest."

Min-jun reflexively winced at the barb. In-joo smiled to herself. Same old Do-il.

"And anyway," Do-il said. "I wasn't wrong. I assume you showed your superiors the papers I gave you? You're not going to be able to bully either of us into submission. She isn't the scared woman you think she is. And I'm..."

"I know exactly what you are."

Do-il's face remained blank. "I doubt that very much."

Min-jun sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm not here to argue with you. I need you to help me. Because in case you can't tell, I'm not overly fond of being in this position either."

Do-il narrowed his eyes. "Then why? Why the very public arrest, in the middle of her own company? Why hold her in an interrogation room for hours? What you say and what you do seem to be two very different things right now."

In-joo remained silent, but her eyes were flicking back and forth between Do-il and Min-jun. Neither man seemed to be lying.

"Because sometimes, we have to do things we don't agree with," said Min-jun. "I think you, more than anyone else, know exactly what that's like."

Do-il's face could have been carved from stone. "You're either going to let us walk out of here right now, or copies of the documents I just handed you will be going to every major South Korean news outlet. I'm sure they'll all be very interested to see just how Interpol is treating the woman that saved the country from Park Jae-sang."

"Don't do this," said Min-jun. "It won't end well."

"For who?" In-joo finally spoke. "For us? Or for you?"

"There is no 'us,'" Min-jun said. "He used you. You know that, right? You were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he saw it."

"I'm confused," In-joo responded. "Who's being arrested here? Me? Or him?"

Do-il's eyes flicked to her, but he said nothing.

"Do you know where your seventy billion won came from?" Min-jun asked.

"I don't have seventy billion won," In-joo answered. "I don't know what you're talking about." It wasn't a lie. Maybe once, she had. But after In-hye had split it up and Do-il had laundered it, each of them had only received a portion of it.

Min-jun's fingers seemed to be trying to grip through the table. He was still standing, since Do-il had taken his seat. "This was bigger than the Jeongran Society. Help us get the money back."

"Us?" Do-il asked mildly. "Why would Interpol want dirty money back? Not that we would know anything about where it is anyway."

It was clear that Min-jun wanted to say more. But something—or someone—was preventing him from doing that. In-joo could tell that what Do-il had said earlier was correct. Interpol had planned on bullying her into whatever outcome they wanted. Perhaps even getting her to confess to crimes that she had taken no part in. Just so they could... get the money back?

"What are my options?" In-joo asked.

Min-jun seemed unable to meet her eyes. "Confess to the charges. Aid us in the recovery of the money."

"Or?"

"Or I can't guarantee that things won't get worse," said Min-jun reluctantly.

Do-il nearly rose out of his chair, though his tone didn't change. "Was that a threat?"

Min-jun shook his head. "No. I'm doing my best to keep things under control."

Do-il glanced at In-joo. She could tell what he was thinking without him having to say anything. We're done here.

"You can't tell us who you're working with, where the money would go, or even why this is happening," said Do-il. "And you want us to cooperate with you? If I hadn't come here myself, I would think this was all one big practical joke. Done in terrible taste, I'll add. Neither of us has anything left to say to you. We're leaving now. And you'll be letting us go."

In-joo could tell that Min-jun knew he was defeated. "Don't do this," he said. "Please."

Do-il's face was cold. This time, he did stand, re-buttoning his suit as he did so. "You should have thought about this before you arrested her in broad daylight. That was sloppy and pointless."

"Maybe," said Min-jun. "I'll walk you out."

"Don't bother," said Do-il. "We can find our own way."

In-joo walked beside Do-il ask he briskly made his way down the hallways of the Interpol building. "What was that?" she asked quietly as the entrance came into view. "What's going on?"

He didn't even look at her. He just shook his head and subtly directed his gaze to one of the many security cameras that lined the halls. She understood immediately and didn't say another word until they were back out in the sunlight.

"I don't know," he finally said as he led her to his car.

"You don't... know?" The words were foreign to her. Especially coming from him.

"It doesn't make sense. They didn't have any real grounds to arrest you. If you wanted to, you could sue them. Easily. And that man in there... he must have known that."

"So we're leaving?"

"I can't predict what they're going to do next. Which means I don't want to spend anymore time here than necessary."

He didn't look worried exactly. But In-joo didn't like seeing him so unsure of what might happen next. In all the time they had spent together, she had hardly ever seen him lose control of a situation. This was... new.

"Where are we going?" In-joo asked as the car started and Do-il began to drive. It felt like an inadequate question, given all the time that had come in between the two of them. She wanted to ask him where he had been, what he had done. She wanted to ask him what it had been like, being alone and free for the first time.

But he would hardly even look at her.

"Somewhere safe," he said.

"You have properties here?" she asked. She knew she shouldn't have been surprised. It was a very Choi Do-il thing to do.

"No," he said. "But you do."

"What?" That was true, of course. She did own a number of properties now. But she wouldn't classify any of them as safe. Not in the way that Do-il would have meant.

"I never told you," he said. "But it seemed like a good idea at the time."

The car sped up, and she wondered if he had increased their speed so that she didn't slap him again. Because she understood very well what he had meant by that. "You bought properties in my name? And didn't tell me?"

"You were never supposed to know," he said calmly. "Though you may want to hire new accountants. Anyone worth the money you pay them would have been able to uncover it eventually."

In-joo's hands balled into fists. She wanted to scream at him to pull the car over so that she could get out and tell him exactly what she thought of his attitude. How dare he think he knew better than her! She wasn't the same clueless girl that she used to be.

Instead, she said nothing, simply allowing the feeling of frustration to well up inside her silently. Let him wonder what she was thinking. They could have it out later, when they were outside of this damned car.

Do-il parked the secure private garage and led In-joo to the high-speed elevator that would take them to the penthouse property he had secured over a year ago in In-joo's name. It was practically a fortress, and nothing short of an army would be able to breach it.

He was uneasy. Everything he had said to In-joo was true. He didn't understand Interpol's reasoning for arresting her, as they didn't have anything to gain. Surely they understood that there was no longer anyway to retrieve the money. And what did they even care? All of that had happened a year ago. Had it really taken them a year to arrest her?

That wasn't the only source of his uneasiness either. He could tell that In-joo was furious with him. And like he had thought before leaving, it made perfect sense. He didn't blame her for her anger. She had every right to be furious with him.

So why was it making him feel so uncomfortable? That was something he would need to work out later.

"You'll be safe here," he said as they got into the elevator. "Until I can make sure that this won't amount to anything. You'll be able to continue your regular work here until everything is taken care of."

She looked at him, and her face was blank. Frighteningly blank. He hated it.

But he couldn't show it.

The elevator began to move, almost silently. There was no way to know just how fast it was rocketing them up to the top floor.

"Why?" she asked suddenly.

He regarded her without responding, waiting for her to clarify.

"Say something," she said and he noticed with horror that she was on the verge of tears.

"Why what?" he finally asked, only because she had demanded a response.

"You never wrote. You never even told me you were alive. I spent months thinking someone had killed you. Or you had been arrested. Or... or, I don't know. You had killed yourself. And the whole time, I was here, alone, just because you said it was safer that way. Was that true?" Her eyes were wavering, but her mouth and her face were strong, staring at him, accusing him of all the things that he had already accused himself of. "Or was it something else?"

How did he even answer that? He didn't know. He had made a career—a life even—out of only ever saying what needed to be said. And in many cases, never saying anything at all. It was a process that had served him well. He had been valued for his succinctness.

So how did he go back on what was a lifetime without communication?

Instead of answering, he simply chose to say nothing at all. Better for her to hate him. That would make the separation easier.

Because it was safer that way. He had done plenty of things that he wasn't proud of—things that meant he had enemies. And while he had technically been let off the hook for his involvement in the Park Jae-sang scandal and Jeongran embezzlement, there were too many loose ends that could someday be traced back to him. It was better if they were apart.

In-joo was still staring at him when the elevator doors opened with an expression that indicated she wouldn't let this go until she had some kind of answer. He didn't know why he had expected anything else from her.

The elevator doors weren't even fully opened before Do-il knew something was wrong. The lights shouldn't have been out, for one. And if they had gone out by way of some electrical incident, there should have been backup lighting. He had been very specific in his furnishing requests. Nothing left to chance.

But the second thing that caught his eye was what caused him to reach into his bag and pulled out a collapsible metal baton.

Because once the doors finished sliding open, Do-il could see the blood on the floor.

He stepped in front of In-joo reflexively and silently, putting his free arm in front of her, pushing her to the back of the elevator. He couldn't tell if she had seen anything, but it was too late now. If there was someone here, they knew the elevator had just arrived.

"You might as well come out," a voice said in accented Korean. "I know you're there. I've been waiting for the two of you."

Do-il didn't move. He felt In-joo's hand close around his arm.

"Step out of the elevator," the voice said. "My patience ran out about a half hour ago."

Do-il glanced back at In-joo. Her face was frozen in a mask of fear. He knew that he was unreadable, as always, but even he couldn't deny that his heart was beating far harder than he was used to. There was no way that someone could have gotten in here. The blood must have been from one—or more—of the security guards.

"Stay behind me," Do-il said slowly. He briefly considered hitting the elevator emergency button, but knew that whoever was speaking likely had a gun on them, somewhere in the shadows. So instead, he chose the less uncertain option.

Together, they stepped out of the elevator, onto the hardwood floor of the penthouse. In-joo gasped when she saw the blood, and then the source of the blood—the body of a guard, off to the side, killed by a gunshot wound.

As the doors closed behind them, Do-il's eyes began to adjust to the gloom, and he could see the source of the voice. A man, seated on the far end of the room, leaning forward with a gun in his hand. "Choi Do-il and Oh In-joo? I've been looking forward to this."

The man had a rugged face and blonde hair, with a carefully and closely trimmed beard. Do-il couldn't make out the man's eyes, but his voice was cold.

"Drop the baton," the man said.

"You won't shoot us," said Do-il.

"No? You're awfully certain about that."

"If you wanted to kill us, you'd have sabotaged the elevator. What do you want?"

The man stood up. "I want you to drop the baton. And I want to talk. I've been waiting a very long time to talk to the two of you. It wasn't easy to make this happen, you know. A year's worth of planning and moving the pieces around."

"You're with Interpol," In-joo said. "You're who Min-jun was talking about."

The man snorted and Do-il understood immediately. The man was American. He wasn't Interpol. He was a member of the International organization that had been working with Interpol.

"Them? No, I'm not with them. I needed them to make this work, but do you think they would have been able to do something like this? Honestly, I'm amazed they even managed to arrest you." He glanced at Do-il's baton. "Drop the baton. Now. I won't ask again."

Do-il's hand clenched on the weapon, then he helplessly let it fall to the floor. He didn't have a choice. Not with In-joo right behind him.

"Now," the American said. "Why don't we all sit down and have a nice talk? We all have a lot to discuss, don't you agree?"

Do-il didn't agree. But he helped In-joo find a seat anyway. And before she took it, he reached out, imperceptibly, and took her hand, giving it one firm squeeze. She looked at him in surprise, but he let it drop only the briefest of moments later. He wanted to tell her that everything would be alright, that they would make it out of here together.

But he didn't want to lie to her. Not anymore. And if he said those words...

Well, he had no way of guaranteeing that they would be true.

Notes:

Thank you so much for the amazing response to chapter two! I can't tell you how happy and surprised I have been by the reaction this story has been receiving. It may not seem like a lot to you, but it's a HUGE deal to me!

And so, just like with chapter two, I was inspired to write ANOTHER 3,000 words, just to show you what happens next!

(Please know I won't always be able to update this fast. Eventually it'll slow down to about two updates a week, maybe three).

If anyone has any interested, I've created something of a soundtrack for this story. If there are people who'd like to hear it, I can post it in the next update. I've also designed a cover for when it's eventually finished! I can post that on the first chapter too, if people would like to see it.

So until next time, I hope you enjoy!

Chapter 4

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The three of them sat around a long rectangular table in the middle of the penthouse. In-joo's heart was racing. She could see the man now; she could tell he was American. But more than that, she could see what he had done. There was at least one body in the penthouse. Someone had died.

No. Someone had been killed.

Perhaps what had frightened her the most was the fact that Do-il had taken her hand. It had only been for a second, but it had been enough for In-joo to know that they were both in terrible danger.

And so they sat there in the dark, not saying anything, an oppressive feeling of fear making it difficult for In-joo to focus on anything. In the last year, she had risen in the ranks of the business world, making a formidable name her herself based on her own talents. She was known as someone who was difficult to intimidate, someone who always did what she knew to be right.

But everything she had faced paled in comparison to this. It brought her back to the Jeongran Society, to Sang-a's madness. To her near death experience at the horrors of burning acid.

"What do you want from us?" Do-il finally asked, breaking the silence. In-joo looked at him, then back at the stranger, whose face bore a confident, supremely unbothered expression.

"That's a long and complicated answer," the stranger said. His Korean wasn't perfect, but it was clear that he had received extensive training in the language. "What if I told you that everything that just happened wasn't about you at all?"

"I wouldn't believe you," Do-il said calmly. "She was arrested on purpose. And you didn't kill a man for no reason. So I ask you again: what do you want from us?"

The man's face darkened for a moment, then cleared. "You shouldn't assume that everything is about you."

"I don't. But when all the evidence points to the fact that you wanted us both here—let's just say I'm capable of drawing my own conclusions."

By now, In-joo was starting to put some of the pieces together. This man, whoever he was, had somehow known about Do-il and this penthouse. That meant he likely knew about everything. If he was telling the truth, then his arrest of In-joo might not have been about her. It might have just served to bring Do-il back into the country.

And if this man knew how to do that... then the situation was even worse than she had originally feared.

"Who are you?" In-joo asked, finally voicing the question that had been on her mind for so long.

The man chuckled. "There she is. I've heard a lot about you, you know. You brought one of the most powerful families in Korea to their knees. And made their young daughter disappear. Impressive."

"I didn't—"

But Do-il shot her a look and so she shut up, not making another sound.

"You know where the Jeongran Society came from," said the stranger. "I'll spare you the details. So you know that all those years ago, back during the war, that unit failed to do the one thing they were supposed to do."

"Die," murmured Do-il. "They were supposed to die."

"An inability to follow orders. I hate that more than anything else," the man sighed. "They were supposed to die."

"Their lives were bought for a million dollars," Do-il said. "A low price for such a valuable commodity."

The man shrugged. "And they couldn't even do that right."

"What do you care?" Do-il asked. "I don't see what that has to do with us."

"You will," the man said with a tight, angry grin. "I spent my life trying to find them. And then you and your sisters dragged them down almost by accident. 'Well,' I thought to myself, 'at least I can recover the money. At least that can be my contribution.'" He laughed bitterly. "Except that was never going to happen either, was it? Because that money vanished after being used to implicate Sang-a."

In-joo glanced at Do-il again. He could have been made of stone.

"You're both very clever," the man acknowledged. "You seem to have fooled the rest of the world."

"Are you going to kill us?" Do-il asked.

In-joo looked at him in alarm. The question was voiced so calmly that he might as well have been asking about the weather.

The stranger stared at them, and In-joo's eyes went to the gun that he had kept on the table in front of them the entire time they had been speaking to each other. For a second, she genuinely thought he was going to just say yes and pull the trigger twice.

"I'd like to," he said. "Believe me. After all the trouble you've caused me, I really would. But no. I need you alive."

"Then why are you here?" Do-il responded. "Because I don't see how revealing yourself helps you at all."

The man smiled grimly. "Because I need you to see that no matter where you are, no matter where you go, there is nowhere you can hide from me. I know everything. I've spent my life tracking the Jeongran Society. You? You're not even close to them."

"You're CIA, then, is that it?" Do-il asked. "That's how you tracked us all so easily. That's why Interpol was able to arrest her. But what I don't understand is why this matters to you so much. You're too young to have been alive during the Vietnam war. Why do you even care about what happened back then? That was an operation that no one even knew about unless they were directly involved in."

In-joo's head whipped back to the stranger. Could that be true? An American agent killing Korean nationals on Korean territory? That was impossible. Highly illegal.

And yet... the pieces added up. It was true that Interpol had to be cooperating with a foreign government. And the man was clearly an American. The kind of resources and knowledge it would take to accomplish what had already happened was immense.

Besides, what other organization would feel comfortable just killing a man and leaving his body bleeding in a state of the art penthouse suite?

"What difference does that make to you?" the man asked.

Do-il's expression didn't change. His eyes remained laser focused. His words were calm, but In-joo thought she could detect the beginnings of fury sitting just below the surface. "Because I like to know why someone is my opponent before I defeat them."

The man stared blankly at Do-il for a second before he threw his head back and started to laugh. "Well, at least I can say that this won't be boring." He stood up from the table. "I'm sorry for the mess, but I trust you'll be able to sort it out. I'm sure you have people for this kind of thing. I'll be seeing you both very soon. Don't go anywhere, alright? I wouldn't want you to miss the next steps."

He picked up his gun and began to walk toward the elevator. In-joo saw that Do-il's fists were both clenched, so hard that his knuckles had turned white. For some reason, that scared her more than anything else. She had never seen him like this. For him to be affected so heavily...

The stranger made his way to the elevator and got in. But before he pressed the button to close the doors, he spoke to the two of them one more time.

"This world isn't your playground. Sometimes there isn't a happy ending."

And then the doors slid shut, leaving both In-joo and Do-il sitting in the dark, accompanied only by silence and each other.

Do-il was in motion only a few seconds later. His phone was out and he spoke in rapid, hushed tones. In-joo probably could have heard what he was saying if she had listened, but she currently felt like she was in too much shock to focus on anything.

The phone calls lasted a few minutes. She could imagine what he was doing. Calling a crew to clean up the mess, to make sure this didn't turn into a bigger problem for her. Keeping her safe. Everything that he had tried so hard to do before.

She wondered how he felt. Suddenly, her frustration with him felt pointless. Why had she been so angry in the first place? What difference did any of that make when they could lose their lives at any point?

"Are you alright?"

His voice startled her. She hadn't even realized that she had just been sitting there, frozen, staring at the tabletop. She blinked and looked up at him, confused.

"In-joo."

She stared at him. She was still mad at him. A year with no communication. A year that had only happened because he had insisted on it.

Maybe it had been wrong. And maybe she had every right to be upset with him. But his actions... they were understandable too. His life had been devoid of close relationships. Friendships. And even family. He had never learned how to be with someone.

Maybe it was time someone taught him.

She reached out and took his hand without waiting for him to offer it. Then she stood up, out of the seat, and just looked at him. She was moderately gratified to see that she had surprised him (so he was capable of being surprised). But more than that, she was pleased to see that he hadn't let go.

"I don't know," she said, and her voice was shakier than she had expected. "I thought it was over."

"So did I," Do-il said. "I should have done a better job protecting you. I'm sorry."

For some reason, that response frustrated her. She dropped his hand and looked up at him. "You can't protect me from the world. Bad things are always going to happen. You saw what my life was like. A part of me will always be a poor girl living in a too-small apartment with nothing but my dreams and my sisters."

"You're in shock," he said. "You need to rest."

"I don't need to—" But her knees were getting weak as the adrenaline was beginning to leave her body. He was right. Just like always, he was annoyingly right. And so she allowed him to guide her to the bedroom, as she tried to ignore the fact that the path he took her across the penthouse was much longer than it needed to be so they could avoid the corpse that the stranger had left behind.

He helped her sit down on the edge of the bed, then turned on the lights in the room, leaving them at a dull orange glow. In-joo could see the room better now, and she was able to make out the way it had been furnished. It was, simply put, a dream. Bookshelves, stacked high. A closet, a wardrobe, a dresser, each massive. The walk-in closet itself was open and she could see into it—it was fully stocked with elegant clothes that went back as far as she could see.

The bed felt like a cloud. Even now, that she had assumed her aunt's position, even knowing that she could, for the most part, never need to worry about money again, she still hadn't managed to find something this luxurious.

"You... did all of this?" she asked.

"In case you ever needed it," he said. "It took a little time, but I think it was worth it." He paused. "Or maybe not, after what just happened. In-joo..."

"I'm okay," she said wearily. "Are you?"

He gave her a small smile. "I have some things I need to go take care of. I'll be here the whole time. Get some rest. You'll be safe now. I'm not going anywhere."

"Don't do that," In-joo said suddenly.

"Do what?"

"Don't shut yourself down because 'you have things to do.' I heard the phone calls you made. You have people to do those things for you. Just..."

"In-joo, there are things that need to be done. That man... this whole situation. It isn't something I can just ignore."

"You're a person too," said In-joo. "Don't you see that? Or did you forget that too, after you left for Greece?"

Do-il said nothing.

"No," In-joo whispered. "You didn't forget. You never knew." She looked at Do-il, and it was as if she was seeing him for the first time. "I'm... sorry."

"Don't be," he said, a little stiffly. "Pity doesn't suit you. Or me."

"It's not pity," she said desperately. "Do-il, don't. Just stay here. With me. You said it yourself—we'll be safe for now."

"I wish it was that simple."

"It is! What are you so afraid of? Putting me in danger? I'm already in danger. Do you really think things are going to get any worse? It doesn't have to be like this. You don't have to be like this. Not anymore."

Do-il stared at her. He said nothing. So she simply sat there, looking at him with wide eyes, waiting for whatever his response might end up being.

What did he say to her? Why did he do this to himself? He wanted to say in this room with her. To just sit down and talk, talk about nothing in particular. He wanted to learn how to do all of those things that the rest of the world did.

But he thought about the way she had slapped him. He thought about her well-justified anger and frustration. He thought about the things he had done in his life, and the things he was still going to have to do... and he knew that to sit down now would be a mistake that he couldn't take back.

He wanted to apologize to her. To tell her he was sorry for turning out this way, that maybe if he had met her when he had been younger, then maybe he wouldn't have been so twisted up inside. But that sounded like a weak excuse in the face of everything she had gone through. Her life had been just as hard as his. And she was kind. Gentle. Capable of love.

He was... broken in ways that he didn't even understand.

"Don't," she said, and he knew that she could tell what he was thinking. "Don't say it. I can't hear it again."

And there was something in her voice, in her words, in her tone—something that made him stop. Something that kept him from responding.

"I don't have anyone," she said. "My sisters are gone. Hwa-young is in prison. And you... you left. So don't say it. Because right now, I don't need someone to keep me safe. I just need... someone."

Do-il hesitated. Then he simply pulled out the chair from the writing desk that was behind him, and sat down. In-joo's expression cut him to the core—because it was clear that she had expected him to do anything other than that.

"If he really is from the CIA, then this is about to become very dangerous," Do-il said. "I'd like to fly you out of the country and get you somewhere that doesn't have diplomatic ties with the United States. He sounds obsessed."

In-joo swallowed, seemingly struggling with the conversational whiplash. "Did he... really kill the guard?"

"I have to check the security footage to be certain," said Do-il. "But if I have to guess... yes. The CIA isn't like Interpol. They were the ones who were going to pay the Korean government to have the Jeongran soldiers killed. They operate with a different set of rules."

"So why is he here?" In-joo asked.

Do-il hated what his answer was. But it was true—the only true answer he could give. "I don't know. And I need to find out."

"Stay with me," said In-joo. "Please."

He looked at her steadily. The men he had called would be arriving soon to make sure that the body in the main area of the apartment didn't turn into a bigger issue. He should be out there with them, taking charge of the situation.

But maybe... maybe there was something more important for him to be doing right now. Maybe it was enough for him to just sit here and talk to In-joo. To create a quiet corner of the world for a little bit.

"Okay," he said finally. "I won't go anywhere."

"Thank you," she said. And somehow, that hurt worst of all—her thinking that she needed to thank him for choosing the simplest of actions.

But it was what he should have done a year ago. And if he couldn't have stayed, then he should have fought harder for her to go with him. Maybe that would have made everything alright. Maybe then, this never would have happened.

In-joo collapsed back onto the bed, and he saw just how tired her eyes looked. It wasn't night yet—in fact, it was barely the evening—but she was clearly exhausted. The comedown from adrenaline and shock would do that to a person.

"I really thought you were dead," she mumbled. "I spent a month thinking that one of them had somehow survived and gone after you."

Do-il smiled. "I'm a little harder to kill than that."

She turned her head and looked at him. "What are we going to do?"

"Don't worry," Do-il said in an even voice. "I'll figure something out."

"Hmm. No. You won't."

Do-il lifted an eyebrow. "I won't?"

She caught his eye. "Because we'll be doing it together."

He didn't know how to respond to that. Fortunately, he didn't need to. Because in the next moment, In-joo's phone began to ring. She glanced at it, and then her eyes widened. She picked it up so fast that she nearly dropped it in the process.

"In-kyung? Is everything okay?" She turned her head to Do-il with a shocked expression on her face. "You're doing what? No, you can't come here! Not now! It's—"

She continued talking, clearly trying to convince her sister to stay as far away from Korea as possible, but Do-il already knew how the conversation was going to end. No one could convince one of the Oh sisters to back down. Not when they had already set their mind on something. Not when someone they loved was in danger.

Do-il glanced at his phone. The team he had called was nearly here. But they could handle it themselves. He stood and walked to the door, and saw In-joo's expression of shock fade as he reached for the door, then closed and locked it, ensuring no one would disrupt or intrude.

Yes, they could handle it themselves. For now, he was right where he needed to be.

Notes:

Another day, another chapter!

You have all really blown me away with your support. I really appreciate it because it's so motivating to me as a writer. I never expected this many people to read this story-I was mostly writing it for myself because I just wanted to see more of these characters! But it really seems like there's a lot of people who felt the same way as me, and it's been awesome to see.

I hope you're all still enjoying the story! I'll work hard to get you the next chapter as soon as I can!

I've added the cover image on the first chapter and the soundtrack playlist is available here!

Chapter 5

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The plane ride from America to Korea was long. In-kyung already knew that when she landed, she would be struggling with jet-lag, but it didn't matter. She needed to be there for her sister. Whatever In-joo said, In-kyung was going to make sure she was there. The last time they had faced a crisis like this, they had gone at it on their own. In-kyung wasn't going to make the same mistake.

Sometimes, she worried that she was going to reach for a bottle again. There had been plenty of times when she had nearly done it—sometimes behind Jong-ho's back, thinking that he would never know. But so far, she had remained strong.

She knew the truth. That alcoholism was something she would have to fight against for the rest of her life. It sure would be helpful though if she could stop getting into circumstances like this. Her fingers itched. They wanted to hold a glass.

Instead, she reached out for Jong-ho's hand.

He blinked at her sleepily. "We're almost there," he said. "How do you feel?"

She shrugged. "Honestly? I've felt better."

They were beginning to make their descent. She had to admit that she would be much happier when they touched down. Because sitting on the plane for more than twelve hours had just filled her with helplessness and frustration.

He squeezed her hand. "I know."

Because he did know. She didn't need to say anything to him, but he always seemed to know when she was struggling the most. He had always known, even when they had been young.

The plane touched down with a bump and a rumble, and it began to taxi down the runway, eventually slowing to a crawl. In-kyung let out a breath she didn't know she had been holding. It wasn't that she was afraid of flying. But there was something comforting about being back on solid ground after so long in the air.

As everyone began to move about the cabin, In-kyung simply waited, sitting there with Jong-ho as the crowds of people attempted to mill about. She didn't see the point in joining the masses, since they'd just get stuck standing there until the line moved.

"Are you excited to see her again?" Jong-ho asked. He didn't need to explain who he was talking about.

In-kyung nodded. She thought about her sisters every day. She missed them both dearly. The things they had gone through—not only the Jeongran conspiracy, but also the entirety of their lives—had bonded them in ways that many others would never be able to understand. "It's strange," she said slowly. "I never thought I'd live a life apart from the two of them. I just never thought about it. And now that I've finally done it..." She hesitated and looked at Jong-ho. "Is it wrong that I miss it a little bit? The way things used to be?" She backtracked and fumbled her words. "I don't mean that I regret being with you, it's just..."

Jong-ho smiled. "It's complicated. And no, that's not wrong. That's normal."

"I don't think the word 'normal' has applied to any of our lives for a long time," In-kyung sighed as she finally rose from her seat and began to retrieve her luggage from the overhead compartment. "But I guess I never really wanted to live a normal life anyway."

"Well, you definitely got that wish," Jong-ho said as they began to follow the last few stragglers out of the plane.

The plane was large, as would be expected by one making a flight from California to South Korea. It was so big that there was no way In-kyung could have ever kept an eye on the rest of the passengers, had she even been thinking to.

And because she hadn't been thinking about it, she didn't see that the few people who did still remain on the plane were all carefully watching both her and Jong-ho. And she also didn't notice that all of the attendants and other plane crew had studiously either disappeared or headed to other parts of the aircraft.

Jong-ho was the first one to pick up on the fact that something was amiss. "In-kyung..."

She turned to look at him. "What is it?"

"Where is everyone?"

She opened her mouth to tell him that everyone had just left, that they were just moving slower than everyone else, but then she saw the same thing that Jong-ho had just noticed. The plane had emptied, fast, and the few people who remained were looking directly at them.

Her blood ran cold. She tried to speak again, but nothing came out. Suddenly, she felt very, very small. "Jong-ho..."

She wanted to tell him to run. But there was nowhere to go. Even if they made it off the plane, they would just be funneled into an airport. Whoever these people were, they had both In-kyung and Jong-ho right where they wanted them.

She reached out and took Jong-ho's hand. "I'm sorry," she whispered, as three of the remaining people began to close in on them. "We never should have come here."

Jong-ho didn't say anything. He just squeezed her hand and stood there, not betraying a hint of the fear he surely felt.

"It's okay," he said. "It's okay."

At some point, In-joo must have fallen asleep. She didn't remember it, but the heaviness she had to fight to be able to open her eyes told the whole story.

She blinked and looked sleepily around the room. At first, she was hit with a wave of confusion—where was she? How had she gotten here?

And then the memories began to flood back in.

The penthouse. The strange man. The dead body. Do-il staying with her. She sat up quickly and tried to get out of bed, but was overcome by a wave of dizziness. It was just exhaustion. Shock. She wasn't surprised, but she knew she needed to get past it. Where was Do-il? Was he safe?

She was still wearing the clothes she had been wearing last night. The bedroom door was closed. She stared at it with apprehension. When she opened it, what would she see? Do-il, standing there, having taken care of the body and the situation? Or would things have been worse? How could she feel safe here, knowing what had only occurred just yesterday?

In-joo opened the door. She had spent too long living in fear. There had to be a better way.

But she needn't have worried. What she saw was a stark contrast from the previous day. The floors had been immaculately cleaned, the lights were back on, and the sun was peeking in. She couldn't tell how long she had slept, but it was obvious that it had been for quite some time. It hadn't even been evening when she had passed out. And now it looked like it was the morning of the next day.

What was perhaps most relieving was the fact that she wasn't alone. She stood in the doorway and watched Do-il for a few moments, as he continued with what he was doing, seemingly having not noticed her looking at him.

She watched him for a little longer. The way the sunbeam shone through the window and cast shadows onto his face. The way his hair dangled in front of his eyes as he bent over the table. She could tell that he had barely slept, if at all. He had taken his suit off and unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, but aside from that, he looked just as focused as ever.

In-joo leaned on the door silently. She didn't think that she had ever seen him like this in all the time that she had known him. Just... existing, by himself. She smiled. She wondered if she would ever see it again.

Do-il looked up and finally took notice of her presence. "You're awake," he said.

"What happened last night?" she asked. "I remember talking to you, and then..."

Do-il stepped back from the table—the table where just last night, they had been confronted by an armed stranger. And she saw what he had been working on.

"You need to eat something," he said. "You're probably still in shock."

She smiled to herself. "Did you sleep last night?"

He shrugged. "It's hardly the first time. There's too much that needs to be done right now. Please. Sit down."

She took a sit across from him. Up close, she could see that he likely hadn't slept at all, though he had done a remarkable job of hiding it. He was right about one thing though—she did need to eat. And he seemed to have spent quite a bit of time making sure that there had been food waiting for her when she woke up.

"What are we going to do?" she asked.

"We need to find your sister," he said calmly. "Once she gets here, she could be in danger."

And then she remembered. She had done more last night than just talk to Do-il. She had spoken to her sister as well. And In-kyung, as usual, had not been willing to listen to reason.

She's too stubborn for her own safety.

No, it wasn't just stubbornness. She was too good for her own safety. Her own morals and her refusal to compromise them constantly led to her putting herself in danger. Over and over again.

In-joo hesitated. "What kind of danger?"

"You saw what they're capable of. No one should have ever been able to get in here. The fact that they did..." Do-il shook his head and looked disgusted. "I should have known better. It was careless. I need to do better."

In-joo paused, considered, then reached out and placed a hand on top of his. He looked up at her suddenly, surprised by the sudden touch. "You're not alone," she said. "I'm here too."

"Yes, but—"

"No," she said, with a little more force than she expected. "You don't get to take this all on yourself. Not anymore."

He looked at her, dark circles under his eyes, and for a second, she saw just how much pain he had heaped on himself over the course of the previous night. He would never admit. Maybe he didn't even know how to. But she could see it, even if it was only for the slightest of moments.

And then it was gone.

He pulled his hand away from her and sat up a little straighter in his chair, seemingly considering what options remained to them. "If they knew about this place, then anything I purchased as a safe house won't be usable. We'll need to find somewhere else, somewhere that they wouldn't think to look. I've found out which flight your sister was on. If we leave shortly, we can head her off at the airport and take her with us. At least that way, we can make sure there's no further damage."

As much as In-joo didn't want to leave, she knew he was right. The penthouse was clearly compromised, and the thought of In-kyung being in danger made her sick. "How long do we have?"

"Not long," he said, shrugging back into his suit jacket and standing. "We'll leave as soon as you can."

It had been a long night. Do-il knew that he should be tired, but he was running on pure focus of will and concentration. Last night had been... strange. He still couldn't believe that she had convinced him to stay with her. Letting other people take care of something that he could do himself went against everything he believed in.

But when he had seen the look on her face, he had known, right then, that he couldn't leave her by herself. Because if he had walked out that door, he had a feeling that he would have never seen her again. And because there was a part of him—and he didn't know how large a part yet—that had wanted to stay with her, more than anything else.

He had sat with her until she had fallen asleep. It hadn't taken long, and she had fought it every step of the way, but eventually, she had given in. He had been relieved. After what she had just gone through, her mind had desperately needed a reprieve.

He had been surprised at himself, though. Because even after she had fallen asleep, he hadn't gotten up and left. Instead, he had stayed by her side, turning the lights a little lower, and just watching over her. At the time, he hadn't thought much about it. It had just seemed like the right thing to do. But later, when he had gotten up to go and direct the men he had called in to aid with the disposal of the body, he had been unable to get his actions off his mind.

Why had he stayed behind?

The more he thought about it, the more obvious the answer was. He had stayed with her because he had wanted to spend as much time with her as possible. Because that year apart had been too long.

He had missed her.

And even as he realized it, he cursed himself for feeling that way. It was foolish. It was irresponsible. The more time she spent with him, the further she would get dragged down into a world that she didn't belong in.

As he sped to the airport, all of those thoughts kept running through his mind, no matter how hard he tried to push them down. Once, he had been a master of keeping a tight lid on his emotions. There was no room for them when it came time to get the job done. That had been the methodology he had employed for years. It was only now that it was finally beginning to fail him.

He raced the car into the airport lot entrance. There was no way to make this go any faster, and every second that ticked by felt like a potential disaster. He had spent all night tracking down as much information as he could—In-kyung's flight, her gate, her traveling companion. Nothing would be left to chance.

Judging by what he had found, they had a few minutes left.

He parked the car as close to the entrance as possible, in the fifteen minute parking pick-up zone, leaving the hazard lights on. Then he jumped out, and began to make his way toward the entrance of the airport, a briefcase in hand and In-joo close behind. For obvious reasons, he didn't have any weapons. What he did have was a number of forged documents that would more than likely get him past the first few rounds of security, along with a few other miscellaneous pieces of equipment that would make it through security. All he needed to do was get to a specific gate.

"Stay with me," he said in In-joo. He hadn't explained the plan to her, but there was no need. He also hadn't tried to convince her to stay behind, because at this point, coming with him was safer than the alternative.

But none of it mattered. Because they had only just walked into the entrance when he realized that they had been too late.

Coming through the terminal, walking from the direction of the arrival gates, was In-kyung and the man she was traveling with—Jong-ho. Do-il recognized them immediately. If it had just been them, then it wouldn't have mattered so much. But they weren't alone.

In fact, they were being escorted by what appeared to be a small crowd of people, all of whom were wearing civilian outfits.

And none of whom appeared to be Korean.

In-joo almost ran out in front of him, no doubt to catch up to her sister, but Do-il stopped her by grabbing her shoulder. "No," he said quietly, even though speaking the word felt like stabbing himself in the heart. "Don't."

She spun and looked at him wildly, not understanding. He wasn't surprised. Most people wouldn't have picked up on the fact that In-kyung had an escort, but the combination of her body language, the people around her, and the careful formation they had assumed gave it away.

It was either the CIA or someone pretending to be them. And they had gotten them first.

Do-il pulled In-joo back as In-kyung and Jong-ho began to get closer to them.

"What are you doing?" In-joo hissed.

Do-il shook his head. "We can't. We're... I was too late. I'm sorry."

He shouldn't have been late. Unless his information had been wrong. But the only way that could have happened was if they had known he was looking into it.

This is bad.

In-joo seemed to be slowly understanding what had occurred, and her face was taking on a look of horror. "We have to..."

Do-il knew that if they allowed the CIA (or whoever it was) to take In-kyung away, they might never find her again. And that it would just give their adversaries another bargaining token. But he couldn't just barge in and—

Do-il turned to In-joo. "Take a car to a hotel. Don't let anyone know where you're going. Pay cash only. I will find you."

"Do-il..."

"Do you understand?"

"No!"

He reached out and took her face in his hands. "Listen to me. Do you understand me? I need you to do this. I promise you I will find you."

"What are you going to do?"

"Whatever I can," he said. There was no time for a plan. And if he stayed to think about it, he would change his mind. It was madness. "Tell me that you understand what I'm saying. Tell me that you're going to do exactly what I just told you to."

She stared at him, her eyes locked on his. For a second—just a second—she said nothing. But he saw in her eyes so many questions, so many thoughts that were mere inches from spilling over. Things that he wanted to hear her say, even if he knew she shouldn't.

Then she nodded. "I understand," she said. "I promise."

He let his hands drop, unable—perhaps unwilling—to break eye contact. "Go," he said. "Whatever happens next, don't come back."

It was obvious that she wanted to scream at him, to tell him that they would face it together. But there was no time to argue. So with a force of will that he hadn't even been sure he was capable of, he tore his eyes away from her and stepped past her, reaching into the briefcase for a small item made of thick cloth.

He pulled the ski mask over his head, and Choi Do-il was gone.

What remained was a ghost. Something not quite human. Something capable of doing whatever needed to be done.

Notes:

Once again, you've all inspired me to write another chapter! If you haven't gotten a chance, check out the cover image I posted on chapter 1! The playlist is now located at the end of chapter 4 as well. When the whole story is finished, I will relocate it to the VERY end, after all the chapters have been posted.

That won't be for quite some time though! Our story is just getting started. Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and engaging. You're making this even more fun for me, and it always really brightens up my day.

I hope everyone enjoys!

Chapter 6

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In-kyung didn't see the masked man until he was almost right on top of them. It seemed like most of the other people in the airport didn't notice him either. But once he was there, things began to happen very quickly.

After she and Jong-ho had been accosted on the plane, they had been told in no uncertain terms what they were going to do. They were going to walk through the airport, leave, and get into one very specific car. And if they deviated from their instructions, things would only be worse for them.

At no point did anyone tell In-kyung who they were. But she could tell they were all American. And she could tell that she had made a mistake by coming here—just like In-joo had said.

She cursed herself. But at the same time, how could she not come? How could she let her sister face what could be another crisis on the level of the Jeongran conspiracy?

Her biggest regret was that she had brought Jong-ho into it with her. He had followed her because of his conscience. And because he loved her. If it hadn't been for her, she would have never been in this position in the first place.

And then the masked man was there.

It happened so quickly that at first, she wasn't even sure if it was real. He moved with the efficiency and brutality of a professional boxer. There wasn't an ounce of wasted energy as he moved in close to In-kyung and Jong-ho.

One of the Americans tried to get in his way, but she didn't last long. The man ducked her elbow, and delivered a vicious blow to her stomach, sending her crashing to the ground, gasping for breath. The rest of the Americans collapsed their formation, heading straight toward him, but he was moving too quickly.

In the background, someone was screaming. More than someone in fact—it sounded like the surrounding area had erupted into chaos. But In-kyung was barely paying attention. She had frozen next to Jong-ho, watching the man get closer and closer to them.

Security was coming. In-kyung didn't know what to do. She clearly didn't want to go with the people who had waited for her on the plane. But the masked stranger seemed equally terrifying—he dodged two more strikes, then executed a perfect throw, sending one man slamming into another.

And then he was right in front of her.

"Come with me," he said in Korean. His voice was familiar. She had heard it before, she knew she had, and yet—

"Now," he said. His tone was calm, but there was an undercurrent of urgency to it. "We're running out of time."

A large, bald man was right behind him. The masked stranger spun, blocked a savage blow with his forearm, then lashed out, first jamming his fist into the bald man's throat before following it up with a knee to the stomach.

"With me!"

In-kyung glanced at Jong-ho. His eyes were wide and obviously fearful, but he nodded imperceptibly. That was all she needed to see. There was no other choice. She could either take her chances with the man in the mask, or she could stay here with Americans who had quite literally kidnapped her.

"Go!" the man's voice was almost approaching a shout. She knew him. She knew that voice. So who...?

The three of them started to run. Security was after them, batons out, shouting at them to stop, but there was no time to slow down or consider. Surely one of them would be unhooking a taser in moments, but they were close to the doors at this point—just a little further—

And then they were in the sunlight, having made it past the sliding glass doors. Two uniformed security guards attempted to stop them on the outside, but the man in the mask didn't even slow down, decking both of them and sending them to the ground before they even had a chance to react.

"Get in the car," the man ordered, sliding into the driver's seat.

In-kyung fell into the passenger seat and Jong-ho practically dove into the back of the car. The stranger began to accelerate almost before Jong-ho had managed to close the back door.

In-kyung felt herself be flung into the cushioning of the seat by the force of the speed. Everything had happened so fast that it didn't even seem like anyone was following them yet. The man was still wearing the ski mask, but as he flew through the red light at the intersection to the airport parking lot, he reached up and ripped it off.

And suddenly, everything made sense.

"You—!" In-kyung gasped.

Do-il's mouth was set in a grim line. "Me."

"Where's In-joo? What's going on?"

"I told her to hide. To find a room somewhere. She's safe for now."

"Who was that?"

Do-il's hands clenched on the steering wheel. In-kyung could tell that he was upset. It didn't seem like him, and he was clearly trying to hide it, but she could see past the facade. How bad had things gotten for him to be reacting like this?

"We don't know for sure. They ambushed us yesterday in what was supposed to be a safe house. The man who seems to be leading them claims that he's part of the CIA. And that's..." Suddenly, he stopped speaking. In-kyung glanced at him and saw that his eyes had gotten just the slightest bit larger. "That's why they arrested her. Because the CIA can't operate in America. They can only launch operations outside of the country. And they knew that if they arrested In-joo, you would come back to see her. Which meant they would be able to kidnap you, as well."

In-kyung's head was spinning. "Interpol agreed to that?"

"I don't even know if they told Interpol the truth," Do-il said quietly. "But whatever they said, it worked. Because they arrested In-joo and baited you into flying back over here. And we all fell for it. All of us. They probably arrested her to get me back into the country too." He sounded disgusted with himself. In-kyung understood. She was currently feeling the same way about herself.

"What about her probation?" In-kyung asked.

"I don't know," said Do-il, and it was clear how much those words pained him. "I don't think that—"

But he wasn't able to finish the sentence. Because in the next instant, something struck the side of their car at full speed, sending them flipping.

In-kyung's world became an explosion of glass and sound, her body rattling violently in the seat as the car flipped to a grinding, crashing halt.

She couldn't speak. She couldn't move. She didn't understand what had happened. She didn't understand how she was still conscious, let alone alive.

In-kyung turned her head painfully, trying desperately to see if Jong-ho was okay. But she couldn't see behind her far enough to tell. Everything was silent; the only sound she could hear was the sound of the ringing in her ears.

There was a hot wetness on her face and she realized that she was bleeding.

She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but if any sound came out, she couldn't hear it.

Do-il was struggling to move—he was undoing the seat belt despite the obvious injuries. In-kyung reached for him, if only to tell him that he needed to stay still, that if he tried to move, he'd only hurt himself worse. What would In-joo say to her if Do-il was hurt while attempting to rescue her?

But she couldn't reach him, and he had managed to both free himself and kick the door open. He stumbled out into the middle of the street, and then she lost sight of him due to the angle she was at the smoke that was beginning to obscure her vision.

Someone was saying her name in a hushed croak, and it took her a moment to realize that it was Jong-ho from behind her. She wanted to respond, to tell him to save his strength, to tell him that she was okay. But the words weren't coming out, and her consciousness was beginning to slip away.

Her final thoughts before the blackness claimed her seemed trivial, even to her.

I wish I would have been sitting next to him. Maybe then, I wouldn't feel so alone.

Do-il had been utterly blindsided by the crash. There was no doubt in his mind that whoever had hit them had done it on purpose. He didn't know if it was the so-called CIA or Interpol, but if he had to put his money on it, he would have first guessed that it had been the CIA. Maybe even the man who had met them in the penthouse.

When he made it to his feet, staggering against the car to support himself, he was shocked at how bad the damage was. The person who had hit that had utterly destroyed his car. He didn't know if In-kyung was dead or alive, but that wouldn't matter if he didn't get her safe in the next few moments.

And then he saw who had been driving the car. And he knew that things were much worse than he had initially expected.

"You..." he managed to say, looking at the driver, who had gotten out of their car and removed a crash helmet, revealing an expression of absolute malevolence.

"You should have killed me," the woman said. "Maybe then you would have had a chance."

He knew that she was right. But he had never wanted to fall to her level. Because Go Soo-im had been a monster. Little better than an animal. The kind of person who saw others as objects. And for all of his faults, for everything that he had done wrong, for every regret that he had—he had never allowed himself to sink that low.

Soo-im looked shaken from the crash, even though she had likely been in crashing webbing, along with the helmet that she had just discarded. Emergency vehicles were starting to arrive on the scene—he could hear the approaching sirens. Ordinarily, the arrival of law enforcement would have helped him. But in this case, he was no longer certain. If the CIA were involved, their operation could have people everywhere. He needed to get out of here.

But he couldn't leave In-kyung and Jong-ho. They were innocent, and if he left them behind, In-joo would never forgive him. He would never forgive himself.

"Maybe it's time I correct that mistake," he said. And he lunged.

Or at least, he tried to lunge. But he was too injured from the crash, still too rattled to move fast enough to actually hurt her. She dodged him with ease and spun, driving her elbow hard into his ribs, causing him to double up as the wind was driven out of him.

No...

He looked back to the car and saw that Jong-ho had managed to get out. The man was trying to pull In-kyung from the wreck. The sound of sirens was getting louder.

Do-il gritted his teeth and pulled himself to his feet. There was only one thing he could do, as much as he hated it.

He launched himself forward, wildly, not holding anything back. He crashed into Soo-im, taking her by surprise with the force of his movement, and driving her hard into the ground. He heard her gasp and then grunt, but he silenced her immediately by slamming his fist into her face. Her head reeled back, and he wondered if it could really be that easy.

But of course, that wasn't the case.

The knife felt like cold fire slipping between his ribs, and his breath left him in a sickening hiss. He stared down at her with wide eyes and she glared at him triumphantly, the combat dagger clenched hard in her fist.

"You lose," she whispered.

He didn't bother responding. Instead, he turned his head just a little and shouted as loud as he could manage. "Go! Get somewhere safe!"

He didn't know if they were going to be able to do as he had ordered. He didn't even know if he was going to be able to remain conscious for long. What he did know was that he had done everything that was within his power. Whatever happened next was no longer up to him.

Do-il's gaze shifted back to Soo-im, who was looking at him with venom in her eyes. "You should have just let her die back then," Soo-im said. "Maybe then this never would have happened."

Speaking was a struggle. But he didn't care. He needed to keep her away from In-kyung. He needed to keep his weight on her, even if it meant pressing down further on the blade. "I wouldn't... expect you to understand."

Soo-im finally seemed to understand what he was doing, but it was too late. With his full weight down on her, she wouldn't be able to get him off in time to go after In-kyung and Jong-ho.

"I win," gasped Do-il.

Soo-im glared daggers at him. If she responded, he didn't hear it. He was unconscious in a matter of moments.

In-joo had only just made it to the tiny, dingy hotel. It was the kind of place that she had passed by every day and never taken notice of —even when she had been poor. There were practically no signs for it, and she had a feeling that if she had tried to pay in anything except cash, they wouldn't have even accepted. But she had been prepared, and now she was pacing the interior of the tiny room, unable to keep her thoughts from spiraling out of control.

What if something had happened? What if he had been hurt? Or killed? What if In-kyung didn't make it?

I should have stayed with him!

But she knew that was ridiculous. What would she have been able to do, even if she had stayed behind? She would have only slowed him down. At least then, maybe her conscience wouldn't be eating at her like this.

It felt like she had been in the room for hours. In reality, it had only been minutes before her cell phone began to ring.

She dove for it and saw a number she didn't recognize. She picked up anyway.

"Hello?"

"In-joo!"

In-joo felt weak at the knees. She fell back onto the bed. It was In-kyung. Oh, God. She was okay.

"I'm calling from a burner phone," In-kyung said. "We don't have long."

"Where are you? What's happening? Who were those people?"

"In-joo, listen to me. I need you to tell me where you went."

In-joo mumbled the name of the hotel, along with the room number. Why hadn't Do-il called her? Where was he? What had he done?

"We'll be there soon," said In-kyung. "Don't go outside. Don't call anyone else."

In-joo knew that In-kyung was about to hang up. But she couldn't let the conversation end there. She needed to ask just one more question. Just one.

"Do-il... is he alright?"

In-kyung didn't answer. The only response was silence on the other end of the call. "...In-joo..."

In-joo almost dropped the phone. She choked back a sob. "I'll... I'll see you soon."

The call disconnected, and In-joo felt like she had been disconnected from the rest of the world around her. This couldn't be happening. Not like this. They had just found each other again. A year apart, only to be torn away from each other so quickly? It wasn't fair. It wasn't...

She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream and rage, to tear down the room around her. But she didn't. Instead, she remained on the bed, staring at the ceiling, her phone clutched loosely in her hand. Nothing else seemed to matter in that moment. Nothing other than the fact that she had lost him again. Maybe for good this time.

She should have said more to him. She should have let him know how she felt. Even if she didn't really know how she felt, she should have said something.

If you just let me see him again, if you just let him be okay, I'll tell him everything. I'll make him sit down with me and I won't let him get up until we've both said everything that we've refused to say. I swear. Just please, please let him be alive.

Everything else felt trivial in the face of this. The money, her company, all of it. She knew in that moment that she would have traded it all way, if only for him to be delivered back to her door, unharmed and alive.

Her silent prayer went unanswered. The only sound she heard was that of her own ragged breathing as she fought back the tears. If he was gone, she needed to get him back. Whatever that meant. Whatever it took. She knew that if their positions had been reversed, he would have stopped at nothing. How could she do any less?

The answer was simple. She couldn't.

Before, she had thought that his disappearance was the worst thing that could come between the two of them. Now, she knew that she had been wrong back then. Because this feeling was far worse.

Please hurry, In-kyung.

At least when her sister arrived, she would know what had happened. Because for now, her brain was beginning to invent scenarios, each more terrible than the last. She pictured Do-il in cuffs. Bruised. Bloodied. And then, horribly, riddled with bullets, dying on the street, with no one to ever know the kind of man he really was.

She took a shaky breath.

No.

This isn't what he would want.

This isn't what I need.

In-joo sat up on the bed. The pain, the loss, it all still threatened to overwhelm her. But she needed to fight it.

Because right now, Do-il needed her.

Notes:

The plot thickens, and an old enemy returns...

Thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who is still reading, new readers, and everyone who has commented and left kudos. Every time you do, you really do make my day brighter. Writing this story for all of you has been an incredible experience so far, and we still have so much more to go!

I hope you all stick around for the long ride, because I have big plans for this.

Your support means a lot to me. I can't express that enough. You guys are the reason why I've been able to write so much, so fast. I typically only do about two chapters a week, but you've motivated me to write ONE A DAY. That really says something!

I look forward to creating the next chapter for you all. Hopefully I'll see you all soon!

Chapter 7

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The first thing he asked Soo-im when he was conscious again was simple. "How...?"

Soo-im laughed, a cold laugh that was devoid of humor. "How did I survive?"

Do-il tried to shake his head, but he was in too much pain to do more than slightly twitch it. "I know how you survived. How did you find us?"

His eyes were adjusting to the light. He couldn't tell where he was, but he knew that he was in trouble. There was a single lightbulb hanging above his head, shining harshly down onto him. The walls were empty of any kind of decoration. At best, he thought that maybe he was in a basement or an abandoned building. And he had no doubt that if he screamed, no one would hear him.

He was bound tightly to a chair. There was no room to move, no way to escape.

Do-il fought off a wave of panic. Better for her to think that he didn't care.

"You took everything from me," Soo-im hissed, leaning down so that her face was right in front of his. "You took my life from me."

"I let you live," Do-il coughed. "I could have put that knife into your neck."

"You had us all fooled," Soo-im said. "We really believed you were willing to do anything. But that stupid girl broke you, didn't she?"

Do-il chuckled and let his head hang forward, his hair dangling in front of his face. "Broken? You don't get it, do you? You never did."

"Oh, I get it," Soo-im snarled. "I was the only one who understood. You loved that girl. And you let her ruin everything that we had ever worked for. Why won't you admit it? You know as well as I do that if you had never met her, none of this would have happened."

Do-il would have fully laughed, had he not been in so much pain. "You can't let it go. Even now."

Soo-im stood up and stepped backward, shaking her head. "It doesn't matter anymore now, does it? We have you. Soon we'll have In-kyung and Jong-ho too."

At that, Do-il looked up. "You're working with the CIA?"

Soo-im's grin looked like it could have belonged on a ravenous wolf. "When I learned that there were still people looking to bring you and your little group down, I was all too happy to help them."

Do-il stared at her. "Even you can't be that stupid. As soon as they're done with you, they'll kill you. They'll do the same thing to you that they did to the Jeongran unit back in the Vietnam war."

Soo-im shook her head. "The Jeongran Society? You mean that the one that nearly rose to control all of Korea? If I turn out like that, I don't think I'll mind."

"Sang-a burned to death," Do-il said coldly.

"She did that to herself."

"The CIA will put a bullet in your head and dump your body in a gutter," Do-il said. But he knew it was futile. Soo-im wasn't going to change her mind or give up. She hated him too much. She had long ago been consumed by her own violence and greed.

"If you only you would have had the stomach to kill me," Soo-im said. "Maybe then you wouldn't be here right now."

Do-il didn't even bother responding. He had nothing left to say to her. He could explain himself until he was blue in the face, and she would never understand the choices he had made. For everything he had done, for all the mistakes he had made in his life, he had never, never lost control of himself.

Part of it came from his childhood. He had seen the fallout of what happened when people became killers. And he had made sure that despite everything else that he had done wrong during his life, there were some lines that he never crossed.

Killing Soo-im would have been easy. But it would have sent him down a path that he wasn't sure he could come back from. There was always an answer. There was always a way out.

What he didn't know was what Soo-im wanted with him. The CIA had been trying to capture In-kyung and Jong-ho. Perhaps he was the consolation prize. Soo-im had more or less confirmed the fact that she was working with the CIA, but she hadn't explained why. The stranger, the man from the penthouse, appeared to be the person in charge of the entire operation, but Do-il was still no closer to finding out why.

Maybe now that he was captive here, he could get something else out of Soo-im. Maybe.

He knew what came next. She was going to hurt him, probably very badly. But she wouldn't kill him. Because if she did that, the CIA would lose the greatest bargaining tool they had—his life.

He could handle pain. It was nothing more than electrical signals, sent from his brain to the rest of his body. None of that mattered.

What would hurt him even more was the thought of In-joo, alone, wondering if he was safe. If he was even alive. His one consolation was that he had saved her sister. At least he had managed that.

Do-il closed his eyes and exhaled. He thought of In-joo. Right now, he would like to see her very much. Even just one more time would be nice.

"I've been looking forward to this," Soo-im said.

Do-il didn't respond. He imagined In-joo, looking at him, smiling. He imagined what he should have done in that airport. He imagined all the ways things could have been different.

And then, as he was imagining, the pain began.

The days passed with agonizing slowness. In-joo didn't know what to do. She was happy that In-kyung was safe, of course. And it was nice to see Jong-ho again. But after they had told her what had happened to Do-il, she couldn't rest. She could barely sleep. Her every thought was consumed by the fact that once again, she had allowed him to leave on his own.

This time, though, was worse.

In-kyung had assured her over and over that they wouldn't kill Do-il. Because if they did, it would eliminate any chances of cooperation.

That didn't make In-joo feel any better.

She had managed to get word to her company that she would be taking an extended leave of absence by utilizing a public computer. It wouldn't matter. And even if it had mattered, she didn't care. The only thing that mattered to her now was Do-il.

She was sitting outside on a bench in the hotel parking lot, staring up at the sky. Her brain didn't seem to want to function properly, though if that was from worry or from lack of sleep, she couldn't tell.

She was so deep in thought that she didn't even realize that Jong-ho had sat down behind her. "In-kyung finally fell asleep," he said quietly. "She kept saying that she wished you would too."

In-joo glanced at him in surprise. "Oh. I know. I'm sorry. I don't mean to make things worse for anyone."

Jong-ho shrugged. "It's okay. You don't need to apologize for anything. None of us expected anything like this to ever happen again."

In-joo felt tears threatening to overwhelm her. It was all happening so fast, and she didn't even understand why. She felt like that same poor, scared girl from before. "He shouldn't have been there," she said. "He was only there because of me."

"And you were only there because of us," Jong-ho said carefully. "They fooled all of us, In-joo. You can't blame yourself for that."

"I know. I know. But it's hard to remember that when I think about him being with... that woman..." In-joo's mind couldn't stop going back to the time that Soo-im had nearly killed her. Sometimes, she woke up in cold sweats, still thinking about it. For Do-il to be trapped with her... Who knew what she was doing to him? "How am I just supposed to sit and wait?"

"It's the only thing we can do," said Jong-ho. "Until they reach out to us, we don't have any idea where they are. They might not even be in the country anymore." He looked steadily at In-joo. "We'll figure it out. You know that, right?"

She wished she could believe as thoroughly as he did. But it wasn't that easy for her. She didn't have the same kind of calm certainty that Jong-ho did.

"I want to cry," In-joo said in a shaky voice. "But I know that if I do, I won't be able to stop. And I know I need to hold myself together for him right now."

Jong-ho nodded. "I know."

"What do I do?" she looked at him desperately.

"I don't know," Jong-ho said. "But I know that if I were you, I would be asking myself what Do-il would want. I don't know him as well as you, but I don't think he'd want you exhausting yourself over him."

Despite her misery, she couldn't help but smile at that. Because she could already see the look of disapproval on Do-il's face.

"You're right," she finally said. "But I'm not him. I need to deal with this in my own way."

Jong-ho looked thoughtful as he directed his gaze to her. "Sure. Just don't lose yourself along the way, alright?"

She didn't respond to that. She didn't want to make a promise that she couldn't keep. But she knew that Do-il would want to tell her the same thing, if he could.

"Be good to In-kyung, okay?" In-joo said. "Otherwise I might do something I regret."

Jong-ho smiled. "I'll do the best I can. I hope that will be good enough."

When In-kyung awoke, she shot up out of bed, gasping. She must have been dreaming, but she couldn't remember what it had been about.

The second thing she noticed was that her body was screaming at her. It didn't come as a surprise, not after the wreck that she had been in with Jong-ho. Even days later, she was still feeling the aftereffects. They hadn't been able to seek proper medical treatment, which was only making things worse.

Jong-ho was a little better than her, and they had both been saved by the fact they had been wearing their seat belts, but neither of them was in great shape.

Over the past few days, she had been trying to work out just what was going on. But even with everything that In-joo had told here, there was just too much that didn't add up.

And now, she couldn't stop thinking about In-hye. Where was she? What was she doing? If she was traveling still, then she would actively be in danger. The CIA could grab her the same way that they had attempted to capture In-kyung herself.

She wished that In-hye hadn't been so stubborn. Her gift and her message had revealed the true content of her character, but her insistence on forging her own path had been a difficult choice to come to terms with. In-kyung missed her terribly. Even if their relationship had been strained at times, they still had made up in the end.

There had been plenty of evenings when In-kyung had cried herself to sleep because she missed her sister. She missed In-joo as well, of course, but at least she had a way to contact her. In-hye might as well have existed in a different world.

In-kyung slowly rose out of bed. The world felt like it was crumbling. The past year of happiness and peace had been ripped out from under her. She was trying to cling to the memories, but it was getting more difficult with each passing day. Jong-ho and In-kyung were easing the burden a little, but she was still struggling.

In-kyung and Jong-ho were both outside, likely to give her some privacy. They were both so kind. She sometimes wondered if they even realized how unusual their actions were. The rest of the world wasn't like them.

She blinked the sleep from her eyes. The waiting was starting to get to her. She couldn't even imagine what it was doing to In-joo.

And then, her cell phone began to ring.

She spun to face where it was sitting on the table. She hadn't used it in days, out of fear of someone tracing it. She gingerly crossed the room to the phone. The number belonged to a stranger. She couldn't pick up. But what if it was Do-il? What if it was In-hye?

And then she had an idea. She grabbed her phone, then reached into her bag for the burner that she had used to contact In-joo after the airport. Then she threw a jacket on over her old t-shirt and ran out the hotel door in hopes of finding her sister and her boyfriend.

They were both sitting on a bench, looking at the clouds rolling overhead. She was moving so fast that she nearly fell on her way to them.

In-joo spun, clearly startled. "In-kyung? What is it? Is everything okay?"

The call, which had since been sent to voicemail, began to come through again. In-kyung held up her phone. "This number just called me twice."

Jong-ho looked at her in alarm. "You didn't pick up, right?"

She scowled. "Do you think I'm stupid?"

He gave her a look that said, Of course not. She ignored it. "I know I can't answer on this phone. But if I call the number back on the prepaid and then destroy it after..."

In-joo swallowed but said nothing. In-kyung knew it was a risk. She wasn't an espionage expert. She didn't really know how these things worked. But at this point, what other option did they have?

Jong-ho, surprisingly, was the one who broke the silence. "Do it," he said.

In-kyung looked at him in surprise. "Are you sure?"

"He would do it for us," said Jong-ho. "You know he would."

He was right. And for In-kyung, that was all she needed to hear. She looked to her sister, who seemed unwilling to speak. In-kyung understood why. Do-il was close to In-joo, but not the rest of them. In-joo didn't want to be the one responsible for bringing more trouble down on them.

She looked like she was about to say something just like that. But In-kyung cut her off.

"In-joo, he risked his life for me. I'm willing to do the same for him. We have to stick together. If we don't do that, what do we have?"

In-joo hesitated, then nodded. "Okay. Call it."

In-kyung took the burner and began to dial with shaky numbers. She had to go slow to avoid pressing the wrong buttons, but eventually, she completed the call. It only rang twice before someone picked up.

"Who is this?" In-kyung asked in a voice that she hoped sounded strong.

"You know who this is," came the answer.

In-kyung's eyes flicked to In-joo. Her sister's face was filled equally with horror and pain. In-kyung closed her eyes and exhaled. She could feel her sister's heart breaking. And there was nothing at all that she could do to stop it.

In-joo knew the voice. It was one she had heard in her nightmares, over and over again. The cold, hard, inhuman voice of Go Soo-im. But hearing it in person was very different from a dream. And for a moment, she thought that panic was going to overwhelm her. She watched as her sister closed her eyes and realized that for the moment, this was her fight.

And so she drew herself up and spoke as clearly as she could manage. "What do you want?"

Soo-im's voice was practically a growl. "I think you know what I want."

"I have no idea what you want," In-joo said, doing her best to keep a lid on her hysteria.

"I want you," Soo-im said. "I want all of you in one place. So I can give you what you deserve. So I can take away from you what you took away from me."

In-joo's mind was spinning. That didn't make sense. If Soo-im was working with the CIA, she didn't want to kill them. If they had wanted her dead, the man in the penthouse would have done it himself. Unless... maybe now that they were all back together, the CIA wanted to finish them off in one move.

But why would the CIA even care? Because of the Vietnam war? That was decades ago!

Until In-joo realized that they weren't all back together. There was someone else still missing. The third Oh sister. The youngest. The only one that could be easily tracked down.

Oh In-hye.

"Do you really think I'd just become a tool of the Americans?" Soo-im spat into the phone.

But In-joo wasn't listening. Soo-im was likely lying. Or not. It didn't matter. If she had Do-il, then In-joo needed to go to him. "What do you want?" In-joo asked again.

"I want all of you to meet me. All three of you. At a location of my choosing."

"And if we refuse?" In-joo asked. "Because that doesn't sound like a choice we would willingly make."

"I'm glad you asked," said Soo-im. "There's someone here who wants to speak to you."

In-joo's stomach flipped. Because she knew exactly what was going to come next. And she knew that she wouldn't be able to handle it.

At first, there was silence. Then, the silence turned into a different sound. The sound of breathing. Heavy, thick, labored breathing. In-joo recognized who it belonged to before he even spoke. "Do-il..." she whispered, horrified.

"Don't... come..." His words were barely audible. They sounded wet, and every syllable was clearly a struggle. "Go back... to America. They can't..."

There was a dull thud and a gasp, then nothing. Finally, Soo-im's voice came back on the phone. "He doesn't learn, does he? I can almost see why you love him. That kind of persistence can be—"

Something inside In-joo broke. Tears were streaming down her face, but she didn't care. She was angry, more than she had ever been in her life. She roared into the phone. "I will kill you! Do you understand me? If you hurt him, I will fucking kill you, you—"

Soo-im laughed. "If I hurt him? Oh, it's far too late for that. So tell me, will you meet me or not?"

In-joo yanked the phone from In-kyung's hand. "Tell me when and where. But I come alone."

"You're in no position to bargain—"

"I come alone! You don't get anyone else that I care about!"

Soo-im paused. "Fine. But you come alone. No police. No little helpers. You and I have quite a lot to talk about together."

In-joo's jaw clenched. She knew her sister wouldn't allow it, but she didn't care. She would handle this her way.

"Tell me where."

Notes:

A little later today, but the chapter is here! I have a feeling there might not be one tomorrow... but look forward to it on Friday!

Thank you, as always, to everyone who is reading, commenting, leaving kudos, or however else you're engaging with this story. I have received some truly heart-warming feedback on this. I'm completely taken aback by the reception.

I promise... answers are coming. But for now, we're just as in the dark as our heroes are!

Until next time, take care of yourselves! You've all put a huge smile on my face!

Chapter 8

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In-joo knew what they were going to say to her plan. But she didn't care. Not anymore. It didn't matter if she ended up in prison. If she violated her parole, she didn't care. The only thing she was focused on was making sure that Do-il was safe.

His voice on the phone had made it clear that he was injured. In pain. And she couldn't say it came as a surprise. Soo-im was the type of person who reveled in violence, and Do-il had gotten the better of her too many times for her to just let it go.

And now he was suffering because of it.

Every second was a constant battle to stay on top of her mental state. It would have been easy—too easy—to sink into despondence. She could blame herself until she couldn't see straight, but right now, that wouldn't help anything.

In-kyung and Jong-ho had tried to talk her out of it, but she hadn't listened. There was nothing that they could say to convince her otherwise at this point. How many times had Do-il risked everything for her? And now he could be dying.

If this was what it took to secure his safety, then so be it.

At first, she had considered the possibility of finding Do-il's father and enlisting his help. After all, he was one of the most dangerous men in Korea. If anyone would be able to break Do-il out and get him to safety, it was Do-il's father.

But In-joo knew that wasn't what Do-il would have wanted. His parents had done enough already. And In-joo would have felt wrong by dragging either of them back into this world that they had spent their life trying to escape from.

In-joo's plan was far riskier. On the surface, it sounded like madness. But she had no allies left. The only people still on her side with the two other people who were with her. And neither of them possessed the kind of skills it would take to be able to go head to head with Soo-im.

Eventually, she convinced both Jong-ho and In-kyung. Jong-ho had put up less of a fight. He seemed to believe that whatever happened next was outside his realm of choice. He wasn't close to Do-il, and he wasn't technically part of the Oh family. In-joo appreciated his discretion, but the truth was that he had become a member of the family. Perhaps that was even true long ago, when he had only been friends with In-kyung.

In-kyung had been much harder to convince. Not because of the potential consequences for her, but because she feared the plan would put In-joo in unnecessary danger. She had given in, however, after In-joo had asked what In-kyung would have done had it been Jong-ho who was held captive. In-kyung hadn't been able to give a response to that question.

And so they had decided to go with In-joo's plan.

She had to admit that she was nervous. No, that wasn't accurate. She was scared. Terrified, even. But how she felt didn't matter. It was time for action. Not second thoughts.

Do-il had done his best to keep track of time. It was one way that he had learned to manage psychological or physical duress—both of which he was being forced to contend with. He was exhausted and in more pain than he could remember ever being in, but he was alive. And that meant that In-joo was still alive. And that was good enough for him.

Soo-im hadn't even bothered to question him. Nor had she explained anything of what she was trying to accomplish. All she had done was continue to hurt him, over and over again.

He could handle the pain. What he couldn't handle was the thought of what might be happening to In-joo in the meantime.

Do-il didn't believe in a higher power. He didn't worship any deity. The only being he ever put any reliance on was himself. But now, he would have prayed to any god who would have offered him the chance for freedom. Not to end his suffering. Just to make sure that he could find In-joo and make sure that no one could ever hurt her.

But if there was a god, they weren't listening to Do-il.

So he continued to try and keep track of time, to keep his mental state strong enough to take advantage of the first mistake that Soo-im made. Thus far, she hadn't made any.

He could hear her approaching again. He wondered what she would do to him this time. He didn't really care anymore at this point. The more time she spent hurting him, the less time she could spend hurting In-joo.

But this time, she stopped before doing anything. He didn't raise his head. He didn't even lift his eyes.

"I thought I'd tell you before it happened," she said. "I thought you might want to know. She's coming to save you. Isn't that sweet? She really does care, in case you wondering, since it seems like you never really told her how you feel. Why was that? Were you trying to spare her or something?"

Now, Do-il looked up at her. His eyes were blazing, and despite his battered and bruised face, his expression was one of violent anger. A string of saliva and blood fell to the floor from his mouth when he spoke. "You're going to die," he said. He didn't raise his voice. Even if he had been physically capable of it, he wouldn't have. It was a simple statement of fact.

Soo-im laughed. "She said the same thing to me. As if she expected that to scare me."

"I don't care if you're scared," Do-il slurred his words. It was the only way he could still talk. "I just want you to know what's coming for you."

Soo-im shook her head out of amazement. "Still putting on a brave face. You must know that I'm going to kill you."

Do-il didn't say anything. He just made sure that his eyes were locked on hers. Inside, he felt like he was on fire. If he could break free, if he could just have ten seconds to stand and move on his own, he would make sure that she never hurt anyone else, ever again. He no longer cared about what lines he was willing to cross.

Because there was nothing he wouldn't do if it meant keeping In-joo safe.

"Well, I'll be seeing you soon," said Soo-im in a cheerily fake voice. "I won't be alone though."

Do-il almost opened his mouth to tell her that he was going to kill her. But he decided to save her breath. There was no point in wasting words on someone who wasn't listening. It didn't matter. She wouldn't need to listen once he was free. Nor would he need to speak.

He strained his wrists against the bonds again. They were still tight, but beginning to loosen. Not enough to slip out of, but perhaps enough that if he dislocated his thumb in just the right way...

But time was running out. He needed to work quickly. Because if Soo-im even touched In-joo, he wasn't sure what he was going to do.

And he didn't intend to find out.

In-joo's heart was pounding so loud she couldn't hear anything else as she waited for Soo-im. What she was doing was insane for so many reasons, but this was the choice she had made.

The location was not unexpected. An abandoned factory in an industrial district, outside of any major metropolitan areas. Soo-im must have had Do-il collected and driven there. Had the CIA been behind that too? There were too many questions she still had. Hopefully, this would bring her answers.

Soo-im approached in a black SUV. By herself, which only raised more questions. Was no one helping her? Had she done this herself?

She climbed out of the SUV, parking on the middle of the abandoned gravel road that went down the street next to the factory. "It's been awhile, hasn't it?" she said as she approached In-joo.

In-joo swallowed. She didn't trust herself to speak. She knew that her voice would sound too small and strangled, and it would only give away just how frightened she was. This woman had almost killed her. She had almost let this woman kill her.

"Get in the car," said Soo-im.

In-joo took two steps backward. "What? I thought..."

"You thought I told you where I was keeping him? Are you willfully that naive, or are you just an idiot? Get in the car. Now."

In-joo took one more step back.

But she had expected this. Despite what Soo-im thought of her, she wasn't that incompetent. Better to let the other woman think she was. Better to get her guard down. Maybe once, that had been true. She had grown in the past year though. She was no longer the same scared girl who had been manipulated into a rabbit hole of conspiracies and intrigue.

And so, she got in the car.

But before Soo-im allowed her in, she passed In-joo a canvas bag. The implication was clear. Place it over her head so that she wouldn't be able to see anything. In-joo took it and slipped it into place as she climbed in. It was too late to back out now.

Best of all, it seemed like Soo-im didn't suspect anything.

The drive didn't take long. In-joo assumed they were still within the same industrial area, but she was so disoriented from the bag and the turns that Soo-im took that she could no longer tell for certain. Eventually, the vehicle came to a stop, and In-joo heard first the driver door open, and then the door next to her. "Out," said Soo-im. "Move."

In-joo followed the instructions without speaking a word. She could hear her heart, louder than a drum, practically drowning out the sound of her footsteps as she walked across hard concrete. In-joo heard the sound of chains, then a lock, then a heavy door scraping open along the ground. The canvas on her face made it impossible for her to see anything beyond a little bit of light that was streaming in through the fibers.

It was beginning to dawn on her just how much danger she was in. If Soo-im killed her right now, none of their plans would matter. She would still be dead.

Finally, the canvas bag was yanked off her head. In-joo blinked, attempting to adjust her eyes to the new level of light. When her vision cleared, her heart jumped into her throat.

Because in front of her, not that far from where she currently stood, sat Do-il.

She opened her mouth to speak, but nothing came out. She felt tears welling up in her eyes. She had spent days imagining what it would be like to see him again. Days considering just how badly he would have been hurt. But nothing she had imagined was as bad as the truth.

Do-il looked like he was barely alive. His face was beaten, bruised, covered in blood, and swollen. He had sagged forward slightly against the bindings that were holding him to the chair. In-joo couldn't tell if he was even conscious.

She ran to him. If Soo-im tried to stop her, so be it. She didn't care anymore. She just needed to talk to him, to let him know that she was there. Everything would be okay now.

"Do-il..."

He lifted his head slightly. "I told you... to go to America."

She half-laughed, half-sobbed. "It wouldn't be the first time I didn't listen to you."

He shook his head. Or he tried to. He seemed like he could barely move. "You shouldn't have come here. She's going to..."

"I don't care," In-joo said. "I don't care if she kills me. Because if I had to let you stay here by yourself, that would have killed me. I'm not running away anymore, alright? I don't care what happens next."

Soo-im laughed loudly, her voice echoing in the abandoned concrete building. It looked like it had once been a factory, maybe, but there was nothing left to suggest what it had ever been used for. "You've always been braver than was smart," she said. "You're that ready to die? For a man that you don't even know?"

In-joo turned to face Soo-im, but she didn't leave Do-il's side. "I know him well enough. I know what kind of person he is."

Soo-im shook her head. "You don't know him like I did. The kind of things I saw him do."

"I don't care about what he's done," said In-joo. "I care about what he chooses to do now."

Soo-im shrugged. "Well, he's out of choices. You both are."

In-joo swallowed. "I don't understand. What were you trying to do? If you were just trying to kill us, then why were you working with the CIA? Because I know they didn't want us dead. I know that. And if you kill us, they won't get what they want."

Next to her, it seemed like Do-il was trying to do something. Break free from his bonds? Even if he did, In-joo didn't know what he was going to do. But she decided that she would try to buy

Soo-im scowled. "The CIA has their own agenda. I chose to work with them for two reasons. I wanted immunity. And I wanted your lives. When they reached out to me, I knew that they were the only way for me to make both of those goals happen."

Do-il lifted his head, just enough to see her. "If you betray them..."

"They'll never know," said Soo-im. "No one will ever find any of you. I have to say, thank you for showing up at the airport when you did. If they had managed to arrest In-kyung and her little boyfriend, that would have made my job much more difficult. This was really, all thanks to you."

In-joo stood up. "So what? You kill us both now?"

"I do whatever I want," said Soo-im. "Finally. There's no one ordering me. No one pulling my strings. And what I want is to make sure that the two of you get what you deserve for destroying everything."

"And my sisters?" asked In-joo.

Soo-im leered. "You didn't really think I was just going to let them go because you came with me, did you? You bought them a little more time. I hope they make the most of it."

She approached the two of them. In-joo glanced at Do-il and then rose to her feet. She wasn't a fighter. She never had been. And Soo-im would no doubt make short work of her. But she planned on defending both him and herself until she couldn't anymore.

But if everything went according to plan, then maybe—hopefully—she wouldn't have to.

The problem was that the timing needed to be too perfect. There was no way for her to know if everything would happen exactly as they needed, and if it didn't... then she would need to defend herself for as long as she could.

Soo-im bent down and picked something up off the ground with a metal scraping sound. In-joo's eyes widened when she realized what the other woman was now holding.

A crowbar.

"He can watch you die first," said Soo-im. "And then he can join you. But please, by all means—fight back. I don't want it to be over too fast."

In-joo was shaking. Uncontrollably, from head to toe. Her mouth was dry and her palms were dripping sweat. Soo-im was growing closer and closer—almost within striking distance—and In-joo's fight or flight instinct took complete control of her body.

She wanted to run. She wanted nothing more than to put as much distance between her and Soo-im as possible. But she couldn't, because Do-il was counting on her.

Soo-im smiled, a terrible, dark smile, and raised the crowbar. In-joo prepared to dodge, to do whatever she could—

But she didn't need to.

In-joo heard a noise, a terrible snapping noise, so loud that it startled her out of her terror. She turned, for a split second, in the direction it had come from. From Do-il. From right next to her.

And somehow, his hands were free.

His legs were still tied to the chair, but the sudden reversal seemed to have surprised Sooim so much that she too had frozen. And that second of hesitation was all that Do-il needed.

Do-il knew he would only have one chance. It wasn't much of a chance, but it was the best he could do, given the circumstances. He waited, letting his weight fall against the bonds, until Soo-im was only a few steps from him.

Then he flew into action.

He dislocated his thumb in one smooth motion, the pain shooting up his arm, all the way into his shoulder. He barely felt it. At this point, what was a little more pain?

It didn't matter that he was still tied to the chair. With his hands free, he pushed himself forward, tipping the chair and falling onto Soo-im, who was now standing right in front of them.

She had come to a dead stop, shocked by his sudden escape from her bindings. She shouldn't have been surprised, but she had never understood the importance of self-sacrifice.

He grabbed her and pulled while he was falling, twisting her legs and sending her crashing to the ground. He hit the ground on top of her, hard enough to knock the wind out of her lungs.

"What are you—"

The crowbar clattered to the floor.

Do-il saw In-joo dive for it.

Soo-im's hands were reaching for his throat. He was barely able to fend her off, and he still couldn't move. His entire body felt like it was shutting down, but he couldn't stop yet.

"Gonna kill you," Soo-im hissed.

Do-il said nothing. His teeth were clenched, his muscles screaming, his heart racing. He couldn't give up. He couldn't lose. Tied to a chair, his left hand mostly useless, and his body closer to death than life—and yet he still needed to find a way to win this fight.

For In-joo.

In-joo...!

He knew that she had found the crowbar, because she brought it down hard on the legs of the chair, shattering them—and freeing the only parts of his body that were still tied up.

Do-il rolled away from Soo-im, his ribs protesting with every move, and he climbed to his feet, slowly and unsteadily.

Blood and sweat were dripping down his face. He grabbed his thumb and twisted sharply, forcing it back into place with a sickening sound.

Do-il stood there, breathing heavily, staring at Soo-im. "Alright," he said, his chest heaving. "One more time then."

She was standing by then as well, staring at him with hate in her eyes. She didn't speak. All she did was let out an inhuman roar and rush at him.

He set his feet, braced himself, and prepared to fight not just for his life, but for In-joo's as well.

Notes:

Not quite as fast as the previous chapters, but here it is!

Thank you so much to everyone who is still here. I'm so happy to be able to continue the story. Look forward to more chapters, very soon! Believe it or not, this is only the beginning...

Chapter 9

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Do-il didn't expect to walk away from the confrontation. He was too injured to cleanly win the fight. But that didn't matter. What mattered was doing enough damage so that In-joo could get away. She should have never come here.

But he knew even as he had the thought, that she would have never listened. She was always going to have come here, even if it had been a terrible decision. Even if there had been no real reason for it.

In the end, she had saved him. If she hadn't been here, he would never have been able to both get free and gain any semblance of an advantage.

He could barely stand. He was swaying on his feet, but it didn't matter. There was always an answer. There was always another way.

Soo-im was on him and he could barely defend himself. He took her first two blows to the stomach, causing stars of pain to explode in his vision. He would have fallen over right there, but he remained standing solely through sheer force of will.

Soo-im wasn't even bothering to speak. She was just striking him, again and again, attempting to overwhelm his exhausted defenses. Each blow pushed him back, causing him to bend his knees, causing him to sink lower and lower to the ground.

It can't end like this.

He urged his body to respond, to move faster to do something, anything so that she wasn't able to finish him off. But there was nothing he could do. He just couldn't move fast enough. She was too strong. And he had lost too much from his ordeal over the past few days.

Then he heard In-joo scream—not a scream of fear, but a scream of anger and determination.

Soo-im lashed out, kicking Do-il hard in the gut, sending him flying to the ground. His legs gave out entirely and he collapsed hard, his vision going completely white for a second.

Soo-im crashed to the ground next to him, unmoving. At first, Do-il thought he might have imagined it. After all, why would she have fallen? And more importantly, why was there blood beginning to run down her head, onto her face and the floor?

Do-il looked up to see In-joo standing there, breathing hard, the crowbar still in her hand. The crowbar looked differently now though. It was also dripping red, a few drops at a time.

Do-il understood what had happened.

Soo-im gasped and tried to crawl forward, her hands reaching out for Do-il. He knew that if she got her hands on him, there would be nothing he could do to stop her. She would likely strangle him to death. Any ability he had to defend himself was long since gone.

But she never made it to him.

In the next instant, the door that she had come through exploded inwards. The sound was followed up by shouting. "This is Interpol! Drop your weapons and put your hands on your head!"

Do-il's world felt like it was spinning. Nothing seemed to be making sense. But now, at least, he knew that In-joo was no longer in danger of dying. Interpol wouldn't kill her.

He pushed himself up, just a few inches, just enough so that he could see In-joo. She was staring down at him, an expression of horror on her face. His heart felt like it had been shattered, and for a moment, he forgot the pain that had crippled him.

"It's... okay," he said. "It's going to be okay."

And then he couldn't hold himself up any longer. He let himself fall back to the floor, too exhausted to move, too in pain to respond.

In-joo, you're going to have to handle it from here.

What did I just do? What... did I just do?

In-joo just stood there, staring at Soo-im. She was still conscious and still alive, but In-joo had no clue if either of those facts were going to be true for long. In-joo had hit the woman full-force in the back of the head with a metal crowbar. It could have been a lethal blow.

Maybe it should have been a lethal blow.

She wasn't sure anymore.

Interpol had finally arrived. She silently cursed them. Just a few minutes earlier, if they had just made it here a little bit sooner, none of this ever would have happened.

The plan had been simple.

The truth was, In-joo had no allies left. There was no one for her to turn to, not when she was faced with this many enemies and this many questions. So she had gone to the one person who she felt hadn't lied to her since it had all begun. Agent Ko Min-jun.

In-kyung had tried to convince her not to. After all, cooperating with Interpol would no doubt bring to light details that would violate her parole. She would likely end up in prison. But prison was better than death. And anything was better than leaving Do-il in the hands of Soo-im.

It had been a gamble. In-joo was counting on the fact that the CIA—especially the man in the penthouse—hadn't communicated their plans or actions fully to Interpol. In-joo doubted that Min-jun would have gone along with a plan that left dead bodies lying around and involved the process of torturing Do-il.

As it turned out, her doubts were correct.

Min-jun had at first been shocked to see her. As she started to share her story, his expression had gone from shock to horror. It was clear that he had known very little, if anything at all.

The deal she had made was simple. She would cooperate with Interpol so long as they would back her up when she went to meet Soo-im. Soo-im would never expect In-joo to turn herself in like that. The woman simply wasn't capable of understanding the idea of choosing someone else over her own personal gain.

Min-jun had agreed. In-joo would wear a tracking device that would lead the Interpol agents right to Soo-im and Do-il. Even when Soo-im took In-joo into her car, it didn't matter. Interpol had been following them the entire time, just far enough behind that Soo-im wouldn't see them.

Unfortunately, they had been too far behind to stop In-joo from having to take matters into her own hands.

She dropped the crowbar. Nothing felt real. Had she been the one who had done that? Could that possibly be true?

Interpol was flooding the room. Min-jun was behind her, his hand on her shoulder. He was speaking to her, but she couldn't hear what he was saying. It was too much. All of it was too much. Do-il was on the floor, possibly dying. How could Min-jun be worried about her right now? What could he even be saying to her that could matter in the face of Do-il's injuries?

She knew what came next. Interpol would take them somewhere safe. Eventually, she would be debriefed. And possibly, she and Do-il would be charged with the theft of the seventy billion won, even though they no longer had it. She intended to fully cooperate with Interpol and uphold her end of the deal. As long as they kept Do-il alive. That was enough for her.

Min-jun was trying to pull her away, but she shrugged off his hand. She wouldn't leave Do-il's side. Not until she knew he was going to be alright. It seemed like Min-jun must have understood what she was doing, because eventually, he gave up on getting her to move.

In-joo crouched down next to Do-il. His eyes were still open and moving. He was conscious, but only barely. "It's okay," she whispered. "I took care of it. I know it wasn't the same way you would have done things, but I think that's alright this time."

He looked at her, and she could see a flood of unspoken words in his eyes.

"We're going to be safe now," she said. "Maybe not the kind of safe that you had been hoping for, but at least we'll be alive."

She could live with that. It wasn't the life she had dreamed of, but it would be enough. She knew she could be happy as long as they were both safe.

But it couldn't be that simple.

Nothing ever was.

A loud, authoritative voice interrupted the din of the Interpol agents investigating the building. It came from the opposite direction, on the far end from the entrance that In-joo had come through.

"Agent Min-jun. I think I'll take it from here."

In-joo froze. Because she recognized that voice.

It was the voice of the man from the penthouse.

In-joo glanced back at Min-jun, who seemed to have come to a dead stop and was unsure of how to proceed.

"I'll take Soo-im into custody. After all, she seems to have entangled herself in a CIA operation, by her own admission."

Min-jun still didn't speak.

"You..." In-joo said quietly.

The man looked at her blankly without saying anything. "Oh In-joo? I didn't expect to see you here." There was an undercurrent of anger and danger to his voice, just threatening to spill over.

"You can't have Go Soo-im," Min-ju finally said. "This is an Interpol arrest."

"She just admitted to interfering with a CIA operation," said the man. "Or didn't you have Oh In-joo bugged?"

In-joo took a step backwards. This was wrong. It was all wrong. He wasn't supposed to be here. What was he doing here?

"Agent Ward," said Min-jun in a cautious voice. "I'm telling you—this is an Interpol arrest. Stand down."

Agent Ward—if that really was his name—didn't seem concerned by Min-jun's words. "I heard you the first time. But she's coming with me. You know you don't have the right to supersede me, especially in a case like this one."

Min-jun looked like he wanted to say more, but he didn't. He just stood there, his mouth closed in a tight line, a helpless expression on his face.

In-joo wanted to shout at him to do something, to make sure this didn't happen, but words weren't coming. Had it all been for nothing?

No. That wasn't true. She had saved Do-il. Soo-im didn't matter.

Ward began to approach them. He looked the same as he had on the night that they met—wearing a carefully tailored suit, his face stern and his eyes icy. He took only one look at In-joo when he passed her on the way to Soo-im, but his expression said it all.

In-joo shivered.

Ward grabbed Soo-im's arm and hauled her to her feet. "I'll take it from here," he said, before looking back at Do-il. "You might want to get him medical attention though. He's not looking so good."

In-joo opened her mouth and nearly screamed at him. But Min-jun shot her a warning look, and she bit down, cutting herself off before anything came out.

Ward yanked Soo-im in the direction he had come in. She was still bleeding and looked to be slipping in and out of consciousness. The CIA agent didn't appear to care about the shape that she was currently in.

In-joo wanted to turn and demand answers from Min-jun. But she knew it wasn't the time. Not now. And so she helplessly allowed Ward to walk past her with Soo-im, taking the woman to who knew where.

She realized that she didn't care. If she did end up in prison, she'd be safe. It would be over. At least she would have that.

The Interpol agents were lifting Do-il onto a stretcher. Min-jun was once again trying to hold her back, but she wasn't going to let anyone or anything keep her from Do-il's side. Not now. Not after everything that they had been through. She didn't plan on leaving his side ever again.

The hospital was quiet. And In-joo realized in surprise that it was the first time she had been able to truly experience quiet in quite awhile.

Do-il had been in the hospital for days, slipping in and out of consciousness. Interpol had come to check on her a handful of times, but never Min-jun. In-joo had a sneaking suspicion that they were trying to make sure that she didn't flee the country, but she had no intention of going anywhere.

Finally, on the third day, he woke up. Not the kind of half awake that he had periodically been falling into, but truly awake.

Do-il's eyes fluttered open and In-joo sat up so straight that she nearly toppled out of her chair. She didn't know what to say. She wanted to ask him if he was alright, but that question just seemed so insignificant against everything they had faced.

His first words cut her to her core. Not because of the way he said them, but just because of the simple fact that they were never something that she expected to hear him utter.

"You came," he murmured.

Her hand went to her mouth. She didn't know what to say.

"I know it was stupid," she finally managed. "But I couldn't just do nothing. I'm sorry. I just couldn't. Not when you were with—"

He cut her off by raising a hand. She immediately lapsed into silence. Do-il seemed to be gathering his strength to speak again. When he was ready, he opened his mouth. His voice was quiet and strained, but she could hear him clearly.

"It was stupid," he said. "You could have been killed."

In-joo blinked back tears of frustration. Everything she had done, and that was his reaction? It was maddening! He was maddening. She hadn't expected him to say much, but to say something that—?

"But I'm glad you did it," he managed to say before breaking into a fit of coughing. "You saved me."

In-joo froze, and the tears started to slip down her face. "I thought you were dead," she said. "I thought..."

"I don't die that easily," he said, turning his head to look at her. His face was battered and swollen. It would be some time before he was back to full strength. But he was alive.

"Thank you," In-joo whispered. "For saving In-kyung. For coming back for me. For everything. I never thanked you. And I'm sorry I didn't."

He sighed. "You don't have anything to thank me for. You never did."

She reached out and took his hand, half expect ing him to pull away from her. She was shocked to find that when she closed her fingers around his, he simply allowed it, continuing to lay there, looking at her.

"There's a lot of things I wanted to say to you," In-joo said. "I think I'm only starting to realize what they are now."

Do-il seemed to be considering her words. It took him a long time to finally respond to her. When he did, his voice was very quiet.

"I've made a lot of mistakes," he said finally. "And I've mostly lived my life not thinking about what it meant to do the things I've done. I had a goal, and that guided every action I ever took. I had lines I refused to cross. But I think somewhere in the past year, I realized that wasn't enough. I finished my goal. I did everything I wanted. And I didn't know what to do next."

In-joo said nothing. This might have been the most he had ever shared with her. She couldn't remember him making himself this vulnerable with her before.

"I don't know where to go from here," he said. He sounded winded, and his voice was fading quickly. "I don't know what's happening. I just know that this isn't something we can face on our own. It isn't something I want to face on my own."

He paused and his eyes locked on hers. He bore the same expression that he so commonly wore, but this time, somehow, In-joo could see something else in his gaze. Another emotion, one that she couldn't quite find a name for.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said. "I should have never left in the first place. I thought I was doing the right thing, but I get it now. I only ever knew how to be selfish."

He stopped talking and seemed to be trying to catch his breath. In-joo squeezed his hand. She wanted to tell him to rest, but she couldn't find the words to speak. Her heart hurt and her eyes were burning. Was this what she had been waiting for? She didn't know. But it felt right. Every word just felt... right.

"There's still so much I don't know," he said, his chest heaving with the effort of speaking. "But I want to try and learn."

In-joo was still crying, only now it was much harder than before. Her shoulders were heaving, and she didn't even know why. Was it because he was finally safe? Was it because this was what she had wanted him to say, all those months ago?

Or was it simply because she didn't know how else to process everything that was running through her mind, and this was the only recourse left to her?

There was no way to say what would happen next. She had no idea who their real enemy was. Interpol, Agent Ward, and Go Soo-im each seemed to have their own agenda, and none of them had truly revealed their hand yet. She knew that they were both likely facing jail time at this point.

But that was okay. Because finally, neither of them was alone. All of that would come with time. The challenges seemed impossible, yet strangely, In-joo found herself holding onto hope. They were alive. They were together.

And they had already changed the world once. Who was to say that they couldn't do it again?

"We'll do it together," she said quietly.

As she looked down at him, she thought she saw him smile. It was small, almost invisible.

But it was there. She knew it.

Notes:

Oh my. I've been waiting to write this chapter for quite some time. I hope you enjoyed it!
Thank you so much to everyone who is STILL engaging. You're incredible and you inspire me to keep going, every single day.

I wanted to share with you the fact that as I was driving yesterday and listening to Spotify, I rediscovered an old song I used to listen to all the time. As soon as it came on, I realized it was the perfect choice for the title track for the soundtrack. I have added it to the playlist. I think it perfectly captures the mood and tone that I want to convey. The song is "Stranger Ways" by Anberlin, and I think I've unconsciously been letting it guide this work from the very start.

Until next time! I hope you all had a very good Halloween, if you celebrate it. I know I did!

Chapter 10

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In-kyung knew that she was more than likely safe, at least on the legal front. She hadn't been on parole and she hadn't done anything to warrant an investigation being opened. But it killed her to know what In-joo and Do-il would likely be facing in the future.

They weren't bad people. They didn't deserve it. But it seemed like the world just didn't care about what was deserved. The world only seemed to care about the coldest and most ruthless people, and In-joo simply didn't meet either of those criteria.

It wasn't fair, something she had lamented to Jong-ho many times. He had done his best to reassure her, but nothing had been effective. They had both spent days looking for legal loopholes out of the pit that In-joo and Do-il seemed poised to fall into, but as far as she could tell, there was no easy way out.

That wasn't the only thing she had been doing either. In her downtime (of which there wasn't much), she had been doing her best to locate her younger sister. Given everything that had happened, it might have been best for In-hye to stay away, but at this point, In-kyung didn't see the difference between In-hye being out in the world or In-hye being here in Korea.

The CIA would be able to grab her wherever she wanted. So wouldn't it make sense for In-hye to at least be there with them, so they could work together to keep each other safe?

Unfortunately, thus far, she hadn't been able to find much of anything. She knew that her sister had to be out there somewhere, no doubt with Park Hyo-rin, traveling the globe and creating their art. But where? In-kyung had a lot of resources, but not a lot of tools. And her experience as a reporter, while extensive, had not helped her achieve any different results.

"You need to sleep," Jong-ho said eventually. The hotel they were staying at was a massive upgrade from the one where they had met In-joo. A large part of that reason was because Interpol had offered them protection after what had occurred with Soo-im.

Even so, In-kyung couldn't take advantage of it. She couldn't get comfortable. She was too worried; there was too much on her mind.

"I know," she said absently, barely paying attention. She was studying flight reports, trying to find anything that might give her a clue of where In-hye had gone. Do-il might have been able to do it. But he wasn't here right now. "Just a little more."

Jong-ho sighed. "It's not your fault, you know."

In-kyung stopped what she was doing to turn and look at him. "I know. I just... I can't let this go right now. I can't just sit here and wait around. In-joo might end up in prison. Do-il is still in the hospital. In-hye is missing. And there's a rogue CIA agent who may or may not be trying to kill us. I have to do something."

"Yeah," said Jong-ho. "And what you need to do right now is sleep. You're not going to help anyone like that."

She supposed he was right about that. She was tired. But how could she close her eyes when there was so much left to be done? Someone needed to take action. Someone needed to do the right thing.

"Come on," said Jong-ho gently. "The problems of the world will still be waiting tomorrow."

She smiled, despite her best efforts. And then, surprising even herself, she stood up and stretched. "Can we just go back to America?" she asked jokingly. "I think I just want to forget any of this ever happened."

"That doesn't sound like you," he said with a smile. "Who are you, and what did you do with In-kyung?"

She laughed. Jong-ho could always make her feel at ease. As much as she wanted more answers, they weren't going to come tonight. Maybe it was more important for her to spend some time remembering why she was doing this in the first place.

She made her way to the bed and collapsed onto it, next to Jong-ho, staring up at the ceiling. "Sometimes I wish we were still kids," she said wearily. "I never imagined that this was what my life was going to become."

Jong-ho was watching her thoughtfully. "No," he said slowly. "Neither did I."

It took her a moment to understand that he wasn't talking about their predicament. He was talking about her.

"I'm sorry it took me so long," she said. "But... I really am glad you waited."

"It was worth the wait," he said contentedly.

In-kyung understood what he meant. When she thought back to the person she had once been, even only a few months ago, it was hard to reconcile it with who she had become. This wasn't the life she had imagined for herself.

Because she had never really imagined herself finding someone like him.

Little by little, Do-il began to regain his strength. Min-jun came to check on the two of them every so often, always bearing an expression of genuine concern. In-joo was always surprised to see him, and she usually half-expected him to come in with a pair of cuffs.

But her fears were never true. He didn't seem like a bad person. He didn't want to hurt them. He was just doing his job, something he genuinely believed in.

In some ways, he reminded her of the person she had once been. Perhaps a little too naive for his own good. Maybe he still believed in a world that actually cared about its inhabitants. Whatever the case was, she no longer feared him as much as she had before. In a way, he made her sad. A decent man, stuck on a case that must have seemed like anything less than decent.

In-joo had tried asking him for more details on his first few visits, but he had refused to tell her anything. She had given up eventually. She didn't know if he was waiting for Do-il to fully wake up, but either way, Min-jun didn't seem willing to share anything more.

In-kyung and Jong-ho came by every day to see them as well. In-kyung clearly wasn't sleeping well—it was visible all over her face—but she still made time to try and take care of In-joo. She had told In-joo what she was doing and how she hadn't made any progress on finding In-hye. In-joo also knew that In-kyung was trying to find a way to get In-joo and Do-il out of their current legal predicament, but that wasn't going to be easy either.

Truthfully, since they had been acquitted, they should be safe. Or at least, Do-il's case had been dropped and she had only been given probation. But if the details of what actually happened to the seventy billion won were shared with the courts, then the cases would no doubt be reopened and things would end messily.

What did the CIA want? Because it clearly was no longer the same thing that Interpol wanted.

This time, when Min-jun came in, Do-il was conscious, sitting up, and in much better health than the last time. He was reading a newspaper, silently concentrating on the words while In-joo sat beside him. She didn't mind the silence. In a way, she actually liked it. Do-il didn't need to fill the air with meaningless words. They could just... be. There was something rare about that.

"I think we should talk," Min-jun said as he entered the hospital room and closed the door behind him.

Do-il looked over at the Interpol officer, then calmly folded the newspaper and set it down. "I agree," he said. "I have a lot of questions."

Min-jun pulled up a chair on the side of Do-il that was opposite where In-joo was sitting. "I'm not sure that I'll be in a position to answer them."

Do-il narrowed his eyes—a tiny amount, but enough that it was noticeable. "If you want my cooperation, then you will."

"Ms. Oh already—"

"Ms. Oh doesn't speak for me."

Min-jun sighed and rubbed his temples. "Right. Of course. What do you want to know? I'll try my best, but you have to understand, there are some things that I'm not at liberty to talk about."

"Who is the CIA agent? And what does he want?" Do-il asked immediately. "Because as long as he's still coming after us, we won't be safe. You can offer us all the protection you want, but I've seen what he's capable of."

Min-jun seemed to have known that was the question that Do-il would ask first. The Interpol officer didn't respond right away. He seemed to be considering whether or not it was wise to respond at all. Finally, with what looked to be a heavy heart, he began to speak.

"Agent Jack Ward. He approached Interpol with the operation to investigate your little group. We agreed, because it seemed like there was enough evidence to do so, and we had no reason to not trust him. He never told me what he was after. All I know is that the longer we worked together, the more I began to see that it wasn't just another mission for him. He was... obsessed. Somehow, it's personal." He paused and looked at In-joo. "Are you sure you don't know who he is? Because the way he was acting... he seems to know who you are."

In-joo blinked. She had never seen the man in her life.

Do-il's voice saved her from having to respond. "I take it you aren't working with him any longer, are you? Especially after what happened in Ms. Oh's penthouse."

Min-jun bit his lip. "I saw the footage. There's no hard evidence that it was him. But I also know that you would have had no reason to fabricate that encounter at the time. Right now, the question isn't if we're working with him. It's if he's still working with us. We haven't received any contact from him since we interrupted Go Soo-im and you."

"You didn't interrupt anything," Do-il said in a flat voice. "You were too late for that."

"And I've already apologized for that," said Min-jun.

"He was there," Do-il continued. "He knew what she was doing."

"That doesn't make sense. He would have had no reason to allow that. If she was working with him, what she did to you was against his knowledge. If she would have killed you, then he never would have achieved whatever goal he was working toward."

In-joo finally spoke up, voicing the question that had been on her mind for so long. "Which was what? What does he want?"

"I don't know," said Min-jun, and there was a hint of frustration detectable in his voice. "He always claimed that the United States had a claim to the seventy billion won, but he never specifically clarified why."

In-joo looked at Do-il. His face was frozen in a mask of concentration. Finally, when he spoke, his words came out slowly. "In-joo, we should talk to your sister. She knows the most about the conspiracy. Maybe she could tell us something."

In-joo was amazed at his reaction. It wasn't like him to seek help from anyone. All she could do was nod.

"Now there's something else that I needed to talk to you about," said Min-jun. "And this is a little more awkward. It's the news—we've been keeping a lid on all of this for as long as we could, but someone is going to break it soon. Your sister knows that better than anyone else. You're somewhat of a public figure now, Ms. Oh. Once the public learns what you were recently involved in, that status is only going to increase."

In-joo had been expecting this. In fact, Do-il had even warned her. But despite the trouble it could bring, she did see something of a possible silver lining.

"Maybe that wouldn't be so bad," In-joo said carefully. "Because maybe that way, In-hye would be able to find out. And maybe she would come back to be with us again."

It was something she had been thinking about since the possibility had crossed her mind. If they had no direct way to reach In-hye, then maybe they could reach her through the news cycle. Surely, if she saw that her sisters were contending with trouble, she would stop whatever she was doing to return and be with them.

Or at least, that was what In-joo was hoping for. In either case, it was the best way to make the most of an unfortunate situation.

"That could be dangerous," Min-jun warned. "You saw what happened when In-kyung came back from America."

"Yes. You tried to arrest her," Do-il said steadily.

Min-jun shook his head. "No. That wasn't us. You were there, you saw those agents. They were all American. Ward isn't operating alone. He never was. Somehow he was either assigned a moderately large contingent of agents or he just convinced them to work with him. I'm no longer sure if he's even operating on the books anymore."

"What do you think?" In-joo asked Do-il.

He seemed to consider her words. When he spoke, his answer wasn't what she had expected him to say at all.

"I can only offer you my advice. I can't tell you what to do. This is your battle, just as much as it's mine."

Min-jun shifted uncomfortably, looking like he had just walked in on a private conversation.

"And what do you think?" In-joo persisted.

"I think that's the best chance you have right now of finding her," said Do-il. "And I think it would be safer than any alternatives. If no one can find her, but she can find us, that might give her a better chance of getting into the country without anyone finding out."

Min-jun stood up. "Then it's settled. The story will go out—that you were attacked and survived. Any details involving the CIA won't be made public, but it will likely be enough to get the attention of your sister."

In-joo hoped she was doing the right thing. It might be better to just let In-hye wander the world without knowing any better, but they couldn't try to keep her safe if they didn't know where she was.

And, In-joo had to admit, she missed her sister terribly. The opportunity to see her again had seemed like a distant, perhaps impossible, dream.

"Oh," Min-jun said, almost as an afterthought. "And don't leave the country. You'll be needed here soon."

He didn't need to clarify what he meant by that. In-joo knew that Interpol was probably building a case against both of them. She didn't need a reminder.

Do-il just looked at Min-jun, who started to slowly back away before speeding up, opening the door, slipping out, and closing it behind him.

Once it was closed, In-joo sighed. "Have you ever just wanted to lead a normal life?"

The question was rhetorical. She didn't expect Do-il to respond. Strangely, he did. His voice was thoughtful. "I don't think I ever did. I never thought of myself as normal. Even from when I was young, I always felt like... there was going to be more."

"You were right about that," In-joo said. "Was this what you imagined?"

"No," said Do-il. "Because I always imagined myself alone."

It took her a minute to understand the meaning of his words. When she did, she realized that her mouth had dropped open, just a little. "I—" She wasn't sure what to say. He wasn't even looking at her anymore. He had made the statement and picked his newspaper back up, like it was the most natural thing in the world. In-joo supposed that for most people, it would be. For him, it was utterly alien.

"Thank you," he said finally, closing the newspaper again and looking at her.

Her mouth was open again, and she didn't know quite what to say.

"I don't have anyone," he said, and his voice was so matter-of-fact that it hurt her a little. "I haven't for a long time. I turned my back on my family when I was young. And the people I've worked with for years are hardly the kind of people I would call friends. I know. You think it's your fault that I'm here in the first place. But that's a very narrow way of looking at things."

He paused and took a breath. Was he... nervous? No, that couldn't be right. She had to be imagining that.

"The sequence of events that brought us together should have never happened. There's no reason that both of us are alive and in this room right now. I used to think that I would find what I was looking for, and that it was the money that would bring me happiness. I think you can understand how that feels."

In-joo nodded, no longer certain what was going on.

"I am trying to say something," Do-il continued. "And it's something I would have never been able to say if I hadn't met you. I understand now. I understand why people fight so hard for things they can't see. Once, that would have been unthinkable to me. The only thing I ever believed worth fighting for was my own personal gain. And that belief dictated my entire life. Every step I took along the way."

In-joo felt like she was holding her breath. She didn't know what he was going to say next. She couldn't even guess. But every word sounded like a struggle, and she knew just how out of character it was for him to be saying something like this. It wasn't easy.

But it needed to be done.

"I wrote you letters," he said. "Almost every single day. And every one that I wrote never felt... right. It felt like the words of another man on the page, and I couldn't bring myself to send even one of them. If I would have sent them, I knew that it would have destroyed anything that was still there."

He closed his eyes, focused his thoughts, and continued one more time. His voice was stronger than it had been in days. "I never hesitated. Not even for a second. When I heard that they were coming for you, I knew immediately what I needed to do. I had always been ready for it. Maybe there was a part of me that was hoping for it, just so I had a reason to come back."

He looked up, and she realized that his eyes had turned downward. "I should have sent one of those letters. All of them, even. But I didn't, and I can't take that back."

"It's okay," In-joo whispered. "You're here now."

And she knew, that for now, that simple fact was enough.

Notes:

Finally, something of a break for our heroes! And of course, a very important conversation for Do-il.

Thank you for reading and commenting, and thank you to all the people who have left kudos as well. I still really can't believe it. I'll be doing my best to get the next chapter to you as soon as possible!

Chapter 11

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

When the news broke, things went just how In-kyung had been expecting. There was a flurry of reporter activity that tried to get to each of them individually, but no real progress was made. It was understandable—In-joo had, for a time, been something of a minor celebrity of the Jeongran events had played out. Was any of this tied to what had come before?

The media seemed to decide over the course of the next few days that there was, in fact, no real connection. It started to fade out. But for anyone who had been paying attention for news about the Oh sisters—such as In-hye—they would have seen everything they needed. Something was happening to them. And the media likely didn't have the full story.

In the meantime, In-kyung had been working on In-joo's request. It had been vague, but given everything that they had uncovered about the Jeongran society, it was possible. Agent Jack Ward was something of a mystery to them. Why was he so obsessed? And how did the CIA think they had any claim to that seventy billion won?

Realistically, they didn't. Unless there was something In-kyung was missing. The truth was that they had a lot of information on the Korean side of the conflict, but very little of the CIA's perspective. And there was no way for her to access that sort of thing. The CIA wouldn't declassify their files, and she doubted that even if they weren't buried, the agency still wouldn't share that kind of thing with a Korean citizen.

The basic premise still made sense. The CIA had paid the Korean government a large sum of money to make sure that specific unit died after fulfilling their mission. It had gone wrong, and they had survived. The twisted part was what the Jeongran Society had eventually become. That had never been the original goal. The only secret they had initially been trying to keep from the world was the fact that all of the soldiers had lost their souls in Vietnam.

And it had morphed into something else entirely.

In-kyung and Jong-ho were still living in the hotel, still under watch by Interpol. They were also under strict instructions to not leave the country, as they were supposedly at the center of an ongoing investigation. That was fine with In-kyung she could see how that might have bothered someone else, but for her, she hadn't planned on going anywhere until it was all taken care of.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a gentle knocking on the door. She had no idea who it might be. Jong-ho had gone out to pick up some things, but he wouldn't have knocked. In-joo and Do-il would have told her in advance if they had been on their way. Which meant the only reasonable answer as to the identity of the knocker was one of the Interpol agents that was watching them.

She stood from her laptop and made her way to the door. A quick peek through the peephole on the door confirmed her suspicion. The Interpol agent was standing there, looking slightly confused.

In-kyung answered the door. "Is something wrong?"

The Interpol agent scratched his head. "Well, not wrong exactly. There's someone here to see you. Two people actually. They said you'll want to see them."

In-kyung hesitated. Two strangers? It was probably reporters or something like that. She didn't have the time or energy to deal with that right now. All she wanted to do was get back to her research. "Who is it?" she asked.

The agent looked a little embarrassed. "They didn't have any ID on them. They didn't have anything on them actually. But they refused to leave, and they were both pretty young, so I didn't want to turn them out onto the..."

In-kyung's eyes widened and she threw the door open, rushing past the agent so fast that he didn't even have a chance to react to her. "Thanks!" she called behind her as she ran down the hallway. "Sorry about that!"

It couldn't be true. She had hoped, of course, but for it to have happened so soon...?

And yet, who else could it be? Two young people, on their own, with nothing? It had to be. It had to be.

Please. Please let me see her again.

In-kyung knew that the Interpol agents were chasing her. Not to accost her, but because they needed to make sure they could keep her safe. Let them run. She didn't care. She had somewhere to be. Someone to see. And that was the only thing on her mind.

In-kyung took the emergency stairs, two at a time, heading to the lobby floor as fast as she possibly could without tripping.

She burst into the lobby, nearly tumbling end over end as she did so. The Interpol agents were still on the stairs, but she really didn't care. The only thing that mattered to her was seeing—

And she froze in the lobby, staring straight ahead, unable to believe what was just in front of her. She had hoped. She had even prayed, though she hadn't known who she was praying to. But she had never expected it to pay off.

"In-kyung?"

In-kyung didn't know what to say.

"I heard what had happened. We had to—"

In-kyung had heard enough. She charged forward, tears already running down her face. She made it to her sister in a matter of seconds, wrapping her arms tightly around the smaller girl. "In-hye," she said in a small voice. "You're here."

In-hye opened her mouth to presumably say something, but nothing came out. Instead, she just started to cry.

In-kyung felt tears beginning to overwhelm her as well. It had been so long, but now, finally, they were reunited. Now, at last, everything would be alright. As long as they were together, they could survive anything.

In-joo didn't know that In-hye had returned yet. She wasn't in the hotel, she was with Do-il, who had left the hospital a few days ago. He wasn't fully recovered from his ordeal yet, but he was certainly doing better than he had before. As soon as the hospital had tentatively cleared him for release, he had made sure they were on their way within the day.

Aside from the two personal conversations they had shared, Do-il had spoken much to her about what had happened between them. She wasn't sure what that meant, and she was already beginning to feel the first bits of uncertainty creep back into her mind.

But no, she kept reminding herself. They had shared those moments. That had been real. Whatever came next, they would face it together.

There had been quite a bit to do. In-joo had needed to check in on her business. Do-il had needed to call Greece and make sure that his assets and accounts were all safe. They each had responsibilities outside the madness that their life had so recently once again become.

Through it all, she hadn't left his side. And perhaps more importantly, he hadn't left hers. Things finally felt like they were slowing down. There was no one actively trying to kill them, Soo-im hadn't been seen in days, and the CIA seemed to have (for now at least) backed off.

That didn't mean that they were in the clear yet. Due to the pending Interpol case, they couldn't leave the country. Do-il didn't seem bothered by this at all. While In-joo freely recognized that worrying about it wouldn't help anything, she was still amazed at how calmly he was handling the entire situation. She had developed a little bit of that attitude, but he seemed to have it mastered entirely.

Which was why she was so surprised when he suggested in the evening that they go out for drinks. She had assumed that he would want to just continue working, perhaps putting more time into their inevitable legal defense.

"What's the point of being rich if you don't take the time to spend some of it?" he had asked.

She couldn't disagree with that.

And so he had taken her to a rooftop bar, one she had never heard of, even after she had come into money. Judging by the quiet atmosphere and the amount of other patrons, it was an exceedingly exclusive spot.

It was a quiet, cool night. Most of the other conversations that were occurring were private and hushed. It seemed to be the perfect place for Do-il. She could see him coming here by himself frequently, just to get away from the madness that his professional life had once been.

Had his life been that lonely? She watched him take the drink from the server and stare off the roof, up into the stars. He had never given any indication that it had bothered him. She wondered how managed to do that.

Then she realized that she could just ask him. And now, there was a chance that he might actually answer her.

"This seems like it was made for you," she said.

He looked back at her, then pushed the drink he had ordered for her in her direction. "Not many people know about it. I used to wonder how they stayed in business. Then I realized it was from creating a clientele that actually cared if they succeeded. It was impressive, really. It worked on me, and I didn't even know it."

"Did you come here a lot?"

He nodded. "I spent a lot of time working for Park Jae-sang. Sometimes, I just wanted to forget."

She had wondered about all that. He had seen that family do terrible things. She didn't blame him for any of it, but she did sometimes wonder how he had managed to stay with them, even when they were burning the world down around them.

He must have noticed the expression on her face, because he smiled, then sipped his drink. "You can ask me," he said. "I'm not trying to hide anything from you anymore."

"Really?" she asked, leaning forward. "Because you're still just as hard to read as before."

He sighed. "Old habits, I guess, right? Believe me, it's not my intention." He looked thoughtful. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure. It's only fair. I asked you one first."

He nodded and sat back, his hand still on his glass. "When you picked up the crowbar, did you know what you were going to do? I'm not judging you. If it had been me, that would have ended very differently. I think what I want to know is... are you okay?"

Well, that had gone in a direction she hadn't anticipated. She thought carefully before answering.

"I don't know what I was thinking. Do you remember in Singapore, when I tried to kill Sang-a? It was almost like that. Almost. The difference was that this time, I didn't care what happened next. I just saw you there, on the ground, and I knew that if I didn't do something, I would never forgive myself. I wasn't trying to kill her. I wasn't even trying to hurt her. I was just trying to—"

"Save me," finished Do-il, his voice barely a murmur. "I'm sorry you were put in that situation. I never wanted that for you."

"Do-il! You were tied to a chair! She tortured you, you don't have to—"

He raised one hand in a conciliatory gesture. "I know. Things are complicated. But you haven't actually answered my question."

In-joo realized that he was right. And she also realized that she wasn't sure what the answer was. "I don't... know," she finally said. "Sometimes it feels like I'm trying to figure it out, but I can't ever decide. I know that what I did wasn't wrong. But to actually do it..."

Do-il nodded. She supposed that he understood that better than anyone else.

"I wish we could just leave," In-joo said suddenly. "I wouldn't mind starting over somewhere. I think I might actually like it, as long as..." She hesitated before finishing the sentence. Would it be too much for him? "... as long as I can do it with you."

At first, he didn't say anything. That scared her. She had just admitted something to him that she had hardly admitted to herself.

When he did speak, he was thoughtful. "I need you to be patient with me. I've built up certain habits for myself. Walls, or maybe even chains. And I don't know how to get past them."

In-joo looked at him closely, and what she saw astonished her. He was the same Choi Do-il as before, the inscrutable, impossibly competent man that had helped her bring down some of the most powerful people in the country. But she also saw someone who was vulnerable. Someone who needed help and was only beginning to learn how to ask for it.

"You always look at me like that," he said. "What do you see?"

She smiled. "It's time for me to ask you a question," she said. "That's how this works, right?"

He swirled the liquid in his glass and then tasted it. "Sure," he said amiably. "What do you want to know?"

"What was the first thing you bought for yourself? And I don't mean a house or a car. I mean something that you just bought because you were richer than you had ever been." She knew that the question was going to surprise him. That was exactly the point. In all the time they had known each other, she hadn't been able to ask him many questions like that. Personal things. Fun things.

Do-il blinked. "I..." He didn't seem to know how to respond. In-joo covered her grin with her hand. Any chance she got to catch him off-guard, she would always take.

Finally, he seemed to think of something. "It... wasn't something that I needed. It wasn't even something that I couldn't have gotten before. But I went out and I bought a bottle of whiskey. The most expensive one I could find. And I brought it back to my house and I waited until the sun was setting. I didn't crack the bottle until the edge of the sun had just started to dip below the horizon. I poured a glass and just... watched."

For some reason, the answer felt strangely personal. Like he was admitting that he had never sat down and looked at a sunset before. In-joo realized that was probably the case.

"How was it?" she asked.

"The sunset? Or the whiskey?"

"Both," she decided. "Tell me about both."

"They were about the same," he said. "They were both excellent. Both worth the wait. I stayed there, even after the sun went down and the stars came out. But the whole time I sat there, I knew that something was missing."

"What was it?" she asked, curious, despite knowing that she had now asked more than the one question that she had been allotted.

"You," he said simply. "None of it seemed to matter much without you."

Her face grew warm at his words. She wanted to blame it on her drink, but she knew that wasn't accurate. It was because of what he had said. So unexpected, but so unabashedly honest.

"I wrote it all down," he said. "I put it in the letters I tried to write. But it never sounded right." He sighed. "Even now, it doesn't sound right. It's just words. It isn't enough."

"It is enough," said In-joo. "And that's alright."

"I realized that I lived my whole life in fear," he said. "Fear of being poor. Fear of being a murderer. Everything I did was a choice I made because I was afraid of the alternative. I realized it, but I didn't know what to do about it. I still don't. I came here because I was afraid of what might happen to you. I was afraid of what I might do if something did happen to you."

"Do-il..."

He sipped his drink and looked at the stars. "I thought about this. Sitting here, drinking with you. But I never thought about what I would say. I never thought it would go like this."

In-joo wanted to hug him. He was so confident, so self-assured. She couldn't imagine what it felt like for him to open up this much.

"It's my turn to ask a question," he said crisply. "If that's still okay?"

"Of course," she said gently.

"Where would you go?" he asked. "If you could leave Korea. If all of this could just become part of your past. Where would you pick?"

She had to think about that. It wasn't an easy question. She had considered it even before, even when she had just been running her aunt's company. It would have been simple to just disappear, but something about it just didn't feel right.

Now, though, she wanted nothing more than to just grab Do-il's hand and vanish with him.

"Sometimes, I think of Singapore," she said. "It was beautiful there. But there's so many memories. Too many. If I could start over, I think I would want to do it somewhere new. Somewhere we've never been."

She wondered if she was assuming too much by grouping herself with him. But it felt right. And he didn't flinch away. He only nodded, maybe like he was... agreeing with her?

"We're going to find a way out," he said. "I don't know if it will be perfect. But if Jeongran couldn't stop us, then this won't either."

"How can you be so confident?" she asked. It was one of the things about him that confused her the most. She had rarely seen that mask slip.

"I trust myself," he said finally. "Maybe it was because of the way I lived. Maybe it was because of my past. But I believe that there is always an answer. Always a way out. And now, I trust you."

"You don't have to say that," she said quietly.

"I'm not. I don't say things unless I mean them. I think you know that. I trust you and I trust what you're capable of." He set his drink down and his eyes met hers. "I know that together, we'll find the way out. For now, we just have to wait for it to present itself."

His words calmed her. She could see, even if it was only for a moment, how his mind worked. She felt her heart rate slowing.

And she began to see—only a glimpse, maybe, but it was there nonetheless—the possibility of a future where their dreams might be more than half-formed thoughts under the moon on a quiet night. It filled her heart with peace.

She wished it could stay forever.

Notes:

I loved writing this chapter. For so many reasons. Finally, some good news and a quiet moment for our favorite couple.

Some of you are truly blowing my mind with your comments. You're all so attentive and you see so many things that I threw in there, not actually expecting people to pick up on. I appreciate it so much. Every word is SO worth it because of people like you. You make the time and effort feel like nothing, and I really appreciate it.

The next chapter might be more like two days away at this point, I've been a bit busy! But look forward to it, because it's coming soon!

Chapter 12

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In-kyung had wanted Min-jun to track In-joo's phone, but he had refused. Even when she had pointed out that the CIA was probably tracking them, Min-jun had only responded by saying something about how he wasn't part of the CIA and he couldn't do whatever he wanted.

Fortunately, In-joo had answered her phone on the third call. She had sounded distracted and a little annoyed at the call, which was only fair, because it was late at night. However, when In-kyung had heard where her sister was, everything became a bit clearer.

If she was at a bar at this time of night, there was no way that she was by herself. She didn't drink by herself. In-kyung didn't want to go to a bar, but she also didn't want to tell In-joo over the phone that their sister had returned. It felt like something that needed to happen in person.

So In-kyung was speeding to the bar as fast as she could without getting pulled over. Jong-ho was in the passenger seat, and Hyo-rin and In-hye were in the back. Going to a bar with two minors and a recovering alcoholic was probably not the best idea, but it needed to be done.

"Is In-joo okay?" In-hye asked for the hundredth time.

"She's okay," In-kyung said. "The situation is just... complicated."

"We saw the news," said Hyo-rin. "I tried to get her to come back earlier, but she just told me... well, she told me it wasn't time yet. I didn't understand what she meant, but I think I do now."

In-kyung glanced at her sister in the rear-view mirror. In-hye had always been... strange. She was preternaturally quiet, ever since she was young. She seemed to understand things that no other teenager would be able to. She had shown that in the letter that she had written when she had split the money up.

But now she was back. As if nothing had happened. In-kyung might have been mad, but instead, she was just so happy to see her sister.

In-hye glanced at her friend. Perhaps the only close friend she had ever known. "I would have come back earlier. I thought everything was okay. I thought it was over. I'm sorry, In-kyung. I'm... sorry."

In-kyung took a shaky breath. She wouldn't start crying. Not here. Not while she was driving. They had a lot to sort out, but all of it could be done later. "You don't need to apologize. I think I... forgot what it was like to be that young. I forgot a lot of things. I'm still trying to remember it all now, but I'm going to do better. With all of it."

"I don't know if I need to," said In-hye. "But I don't think that matters. I want to be the kind of person who apologizes and doesn't feel ashamed of it. I've had a lot of time to think. And I need to do better too. This time, though, I think we can do it together."

In-kyung desperately wanted to believe that. Part of her did. Another part of her felt like their world was currently still in the middle of a slow collapse, and that there was nothing they could do to save it.

But at least they were together. If everything did fall apart, they wouldn't experience it alone. That was enough for her.

In-hye had gotten taller. A little older. Someone else might not have noticed. But In-kyung did. She could see every single detail on her sister. Every single change that occurred over the last year. In-kyung understood why she had done it. But she had still missed In-hye terribly.

Once they were with In-joo, then maybe everything would be better. Maybe then, everything would feel alright again.

In-joo heard In-kyung's voice before she saw her. In-joo spun in her chair, looking back to the stairs that led to the roof where they were sitting. Jong-ho came into sight first. In-joo's eyes widened when she saw In-kyung following him.

What was she doing here? She couldn't be in a bar! She was a recovering alcoholic, this place was like a deathtrap for her.

And then both Jong-ho and In-kyung were in the room, and In-joo could see who had followed them in. She blinked, sure that she had seen incorrectly. It couldn't be. What was she doing here? When had she gotten back?

But it was real. Her youngest sister, Oh In-hye was standing there, looking at her from across the rooftop. In-joo slowly rose out of her seat. Everything felt like a dream. Do-il was standing too, but In-joo was no longer paying attention to him. She was squarely focused on the teenage girl who was awkwardly standing in the middle of the quiet rooftop bar.

"In-hye..." In-joo breathed, crossing the roof and throwing her arms around the younger girl. She didn't care who was watching. She didn't care who was or wasn't paying attention. All she cared about was that the three of them were together again. Maybe the world hadn't changed that much. Maybe all three of them could recapture the feeling of closeness they had once shared. "You're here."

"I came as soon as I saw the news," In-hye said, hugging In-joo back, just as tightly. "I didn't know anything was still happening. I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier. I—l"

In-joo pulled back, but kept her hands on In-hye's shoulders. "You have your own life to live. And I can't wait to hear all about what you've been doing."

"Why are you crying?" In-hye asked in that calm, even voice she so commonly used.

In-joo smiled, sniffled, and wiped her eyes. "I don't know," she said. "I think I'm just starting to realize how much I missed being with you two."

She felt like a weight had lifted off of her chest. It was a weight that she hadn't even known was there until it was gone, but the whole world felt like it had just changed.

When In-joo finally let In-hye go, she noticed that Do-il was wearing a concerned expression on his face. "You used the proper documents?" he asked.

In-hye nodded. "The fake ones. The ones you left behind for us. I was ready. I knew what to do."

Hyo-rin looked at In-hye with pride. The two young girls' relationship had originally been an area of concern for In-joo. After all, Park Hyo-rin had belonged to one of the most corrupt, powerful, and evil families in the entire country. But in the end, Hyo-rin had been the sole light in In-hye's life. She was truly innocent, just as much a victim as all the other people that the Park family had destroyed.

In-joo turned to Do-il, who seemed to have calmed back down. He had given them false identities? Maybe that meant the CIA didn't know they were back in the country. But if they didn't know yet, they would certainly know soon.

In-joo opened her mouth to suggest that she go pay the bill so that they could leave, but Do-il was already flagging down a server, having already realized it on his own. In-joo stepped forward, took In-hye's arm, and started leading her down the stairs. They could talk more when they were all out of public. There was so much she wanted to say. So much she wanted to ask.

She hoped that they had more time than what she was expecting.

When they got back to the hotel, Do-il's mind was already formulating countless scenarios about what might happen next. There were too many different directions that everything could go in.

The Interpol agents at the hotel were an uneasy reminder of how everything had been going. When In-joo had shown up to rescue him, he hadn't immediately figured out what she had done. But as soon as Interpol had entered the abandoned factory, he had known.

She had likely traded their freedom for their lives.

He didn't mind the idea of going to prison for what he had done. Maybe it was even the right thing to do. He had once been perfectly willing to take the fall so that she could be free. What bothered him was the thought of In-joo ending up there. It wasn't fair to her. It wasn't what she deserved. He had met very few genuinely good people in his lifetime. He had never met anyone who had affected him in the way she had. She was too good for prison.

But she had made that choice to save him, and he couldn't begrudge her that. He would have done the same thing for her without even a second of hesitation.

Now that In-hye was here, all the major players of the Jeongran situation had been reassembled. It might have been what Jack Ward wanted—or the CIA, if he was still operating on their blessing. The thing was, since they were together, it would be easier for Do-il to move all of them to wherever they needed to be.

He was seriously considering fleeing to America. It wouldn't be easy, now that Interpol was watching them, but it would keep them safe from the CIA. The CIA legally couldn't operate inside America. Of course, the CIA couldn't just go around killing whoever they wanted, but that hadn't stopped Ward either.

Do-il was quiet as he considered all of this. The sisters were talking, sharing stories of what they had done and where they had gone. It made him happy to hear In-joo like that. It seemed like a spark had been rekindled inside her, one that he hadn't seen since meeting her again. It wasn't that she had been unhappy... it was just that something had been missing. Now, Do-il thought he knew what it was.

"I never thanked you properly."

Do-il looked up to see that Jong-ho had approached him, sitting opposite Do-il at the small table in the hotel suite.

"You don't need to thank me," Do-il said. "That wasn't ever the point."

"It's not about what I have to do," said Jong-ho. "But you know that already, don't you?"

It was true that the two men hadn't spoken much to each other. But they seemed to have more in common than one might guess just on the surface. While Do-il had much more experience in the sort of situations that they seemed to keep finding themselves in, Jong-ho still managed to carry himself with the kind of calmness that few other people were able to replicate.

"You're welcome," Do-il said. "And thank you. Because if you hadn't been there, things could have gone very differently. Even from the start."

Jong-ho nodded, considering that. "How do you live like this?" he finally asked.

Do-il didn't understand. "What do you mean?"

"Maybe I just don't understand because my family has always had money. But the constant running. The fear. The stress. Doesn't it wear on you?"

Do-il considered the other man's words. He hadn't thought about it like that. "It was something that I got used to eventually," he said. "I spent so much time with the Jeongran society that I stopped thinking about it somewhere along the way."

"I'm sorry," said Jong-ho.

"Don't be," Do-il said honestly. "It's something that I'm coming to terms with."

"What do we do next?" asked Jong-ho.

Do-il leaned forward in thought. "I'm not sure yet. I've been considering taking us all back to America, but Interpol won't let us leave the country. We could try to fake our identities, but I don't think that would work since they'll actively be looking for us."

"I don't want to bring this up, but what about the trial? Is that something you're concerned about?" Jong-ho looked a little nervous to be mentioning it. Do-il smiled to himself. Jong-ho was much more reserved than In-kyung. They made an interesting pair.

"I'm less concerned for myself than I am for In-joo. She's in a much worse spot than I am. Right now, I really don't know what's going to happen. I've been working on it with the time I have, but I don't even know what Interpol might charge her with. Realistically, I'm just happy she's alive. Whatever happens, it'll be safer than what could have occurred if she hadn't reached out to them."

He was surprised to find that he meant what he was saying. Once, he would have been horrified at the prospect of losing his freedom. But that time was long past. It had been gone ever since he had started to get to know what kind of person she was.

Jong-ho nodded. "Can I ask you one more question?" he said.

Do-il sat back and shrugged. "I don't see why not."

Jong-ho hesitated. Do-il waited patiently for the man to speak.

"Do you love her?"

Do-il was genuinely shocked, something that happened to him very, very infrequently. He wasn't sure what shocked him more: the question or the fact that Jong-ho had been brazen enough to just say it. And so Do-il just sat there, unsure of what to say.

Jong-ho continued to speak. "I don't mean to pry. It's just that I found out how hard it could be to keep that thing to yourself. Especially when you lead a life like ours. You don't need to say anything. I think I already know the answer. But you might want to tell her sooner rather than later. Because it could easily be too late at any point. And if you let it reach that point, I know you'll spend a long time regretting it."

Do-il opened his mouth to speak, to deliver a cutting rebuttal. But no words came out. He couldn't think of what to say. For some reason, Jong-ho's words had shaken him. Perhaps it was just because of how surprisingly forward Jong-ho had been. Perhaps it was...

Well, what else could it have been?

Jong-ho seemed to be aware of the effect that his question had created. "I'm sorry," he said quietly, standing, clearly about to rejoin In-kyung on the other side of the suite. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just think—"

"I know what you think," said Do-il, a little more harshly than he might have intended. "You made that very clear. Thank you for the conversation. Once I know more about what we plan to do next, I'll let you know."

Do-il stood abruptly as well, buttoned his suit, and made his way to the large glass doors that led out onto the balcony. It would no doubt be a cold night, but he didn't care. He needed time to clear his head and think.

The door shut behind him before he even realized that he had made it outside. The city below them was bright and shining with light, plenty of cars still making their way among the landscape of the now glowing buildings.

Somehow, a simple question had shaken him to his core. It was stupid. Immature. He was better than this, and he knew it. There was no time for him to love someone. He cared about her safety; he cared about her as a person. Wasn't that enough?

But why did he care so much? Was Jong-ho right about him?

No. That was ridiculous. That was...

"Do-il?"

It was her. Of course it was. She had seen him leave and she had followed him out onto the balcony. It was what she did. It was the kind of person she was.

"You should go back inside," Do-il said calmly. "You should be with your sister."

"And you shouldn't be alone," she countered, though her voice was still gentle. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," he said, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.

"You're good at hiding things from people," she said. "But I don't think you're a very good liar. Not to me at least."

Do-il wanted to leave again. But where did he go? Back inside, from the place he had just left? He didn't want to have this conversation. He just wanted to clear his head and get on with his life, which in this case, meant making a plan for the future.

But here she was. And he knew her well enough to know that she wasn't going to let him just walk away from her. At least not until she had something resembling an answer.

"It's okay to not know," she said. "I don't expect you to have an answer every time."

"I know you don't. But I don't judge myself by other people's standards."

"Do you think that maybe your standards for yourself are a little too harsh?"

"I think my standards are fair. I know myself better than everyone else. And I know what I should be capable of by now."

In-joo looked down at the city beneath them. Even though it was a sight that Do-il had seen many times before, it was still a striking thing to behold.

"I used to dream about a view like this," In-joo said. "And after I got it, I started dreaming about having someone to share it with." She turned her gaze to Do-il. "What about you?"

He thought. He couldn't say he felt the same way, but he did know that he had felt something... similar. "I don't know if I ever dreamed at all. I would just set a goal, create a plan, and move toward it. Over and over. For years. Maybe it's the thought of dreams that scares me. Maybe it's the possibilities that I don't know what to do with."

"You're doing well," said In-joo.

"It doesn't feel like it. It feels like I'm finally starting to lose the balancing act that I've been trying to keep up. And when it all comes crashing down, I won't be the only one who gets hurt."

In-joo placed her hand on top of his. She didn't hold it. She didn't close her fingers around it. She just left it there, a reminder that he wasn't alone.

Jong-ho had given him plenty to think about. Maybe too much.

But for tonight, he didn't need to think about it. Tonight, he could just spend some time with the woman he had missed so much.

The why and the how could wait until tomorrow. Tonight, he could simply just be.

Notes:

Another chapter filled with lots of small character moments. I know things have been moving slowly in terms of plot, but quiet moments like these are some of my favorite to write.

Thank you everyone for your patience! Chapters are going to be a little slower now due to other commitments that I currently have (like work and my personal life). However, they will still regularly come out! I am fully committed to finishing this story.

I hope you enjoy and that you're all doing well!

Chapter 13

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Jack Ward was angry.

No, angry wasn't the right word. He wasn't just angry. He was furious. His rage was bordering on being blinding. He could barely see straight, and it was all because of those damned Jeongran idiots.

Who the hell did Go Soo-im think she was? He had never given her the go-ahead to kidnap anyone, let alone In-kyung after Do-il had interfered in the CIA sting operation on the plane. He had never trusted Soo-im, of course, but now he didn't even know if he could count her as an asset.

She had been predictable—or so he had thought. She was guided by revenge, which was something that Jack understood at least. She wanted revenge on the sisters who had brought down the organization that she had spent her life working for.

That was familiar.

But clearly, he had underestimated her. She wasn't content to just do as she was told. She had taken matters into her own hands, and she had almost ruined everything. His plan would never work if they were all dead, and that seemed to be what Soo-im was working toward now.

That being said, he hadn't thrown her to the authorities yet. He had considered it at first, naturally. But he eventually decided that he would be better served by keeping her close to him. If she tried to betray him again, at least he would know where she was. It would be harder for her to overthrow his plans if she was by his side.

Of course, it would be easier for her to stab him in the back, but that was a risk he was willing to take.

For a little, everything had been going great. He had surprised—no, shocked—both Oh In-joo and Choi Do-il. They had fallen for his little setup in the first place, and then In-kyung had taken the next layer of bait. The only piece that had remained was Oh In-hye. Even Interpol had been cooperating with him, even if that Ko Min-jun was a little too idealistic for his own good

And then of course, Go Soo-im had gone out of her way to ruin it all.

That was a bit of an exaggeration. She hadn't ruined everything, but she had set him back. He hadn't expected Do-il to intervene at the airport, but he had certainly not expected Soo-im to kidnap Do-il of her own volition.

Fortunately, he had been able to track In-joo and find where Soo-im was keeping Do-il. It was only pure luck that he had managed to get there before Interpol did, allowing him to intervene at the last second.

Now, he was being forced to reconsider his plans.

Technically, he was still operating within his mission parameters. Yes, a few people had been killed, but it was hardly the first time that sort of thing had happened on a CIA mission. He was more worried that now, things had gotten too out of hand for him to even finish his mission.

Of course, that wouldn't be allowed to happen.

His team was small, and none of them possessed the same fervor that he did. But then again, it wasn't personal for any of them. None of them cared in the same way he did. And that was why he would make sure that he saw this through to the end. It didn't matter where the seventy billion won had gone. He would find it, claim it, and make his family name mean something again. He would make it mean what it had once meant.

If Interpol was going to arrest In-joo, then he was likely out of time. He would need to act before that happened. Once she was in custody, there wasn't much he would be able to do. F

For anyone else, it would have been an impossible task.

But not for him. This had been his life's work. He would not be letting it come to an end because some woman with a vendetta had gotten in his way.

It was true that there was still much work to be done. But he was confident that this was only a setback at worst. It didn't matter what they thought of him. It didn't matter if they thought he was wrong. They didn't know him. They didn't know his story. They didn't know who he was or what he had gone through to be here.

Three generations. It took three generations to only begin to right the wrongs of the past.

He wouldn't fail. He couldn't. There was too much at stake now.

It wasn't just about him. It was about everyone who had come before.

In-joo received the phone call early in the morning. It wasn't a surprise to her necessarily. Min-jun seemed like the type of person who wanted to do everything as efficiently as possible. She knew that he wasn't trying to be her enemy. He was just trying to do his job. At least she could understand and sympathize with that.

It still pained her to realize that her time as a free woman was likely coming to an end. Maybe that was justice, though. Maybe after everything, there were some things that she couldn't run away from. And maybe that was okay.

"We need you to come into the Interpol headquarters," Min-jun told her.

"Can I know what it's about?" she asked.

His answer didn't surprise her. "No, I'm sorry. We'll explain everything here."

She knew then, exactly what it would be about. This would be the end of the line. At least it would mean she was safe.

She walked out of her room and back into the suite, almost blind from the realization. She needed to tell her sisters. She needed to tell Do-il. She had known it was coming, but for it to be this fast? There just wasn't enough time.

In-joo just stood there, looking at them as they went about their morning. Do-il was sitting at the counter, reading something on his phone. In-kyung on the couch, pressed up against Jong-ho. And In-hye was deep in conversation with Hyo-rin, no doubt about something that would only make sense to the two of them.

These were the most important people in In-joo's life. How could she leave them behind?

In-hye noticed her first, and must have recognized the expression on her older sister's face. In-hye stood up mid-conversation from where she was sitting and made her way over to In-joo.

"It's happening, isn't it?" In-hye asked. "You're going to have to go."

In-joo nodded, feeling a lump in her throat. "They just called me. They want me to come in to their headquarters."

In-hye's face, as always, bore an expression of both wisdom and innocence. "It's not fair. You're the best of all of us."

"I'm just like everyone else," said In-joo with a sad smile. "And I have to live up to my end of the deal. They saved Do-il. I promised them I would cooperate."

"You don't have to," In-hye said desperately. "You could run."

In-joo shook her head. "Where could I go? They would find me. And that isn't the life I want to live. I don't want to spend forever running away from the past. I'd rather find a way to build myself a future I can be proud of."

She didn't know where her words were coming from, but she did know that she meant them.

Do-il had noticed them by now. He was looking over from where he was sitting. There was concern in his eyes. In-joo appreciated that he trusted her enough to let her speak in her own time. Even though he must have already known what she was going to say, he still chose to let her share it first. Something so simple that still meant the world to her.

In-hye reached out and hugged In-joo. "I'm going with you. We all are. You won't be alone. No matter what happens, you won't be alone."

"I know," said In-joo, and a single tear slipped down her face. "I was never alone."

In-hye nodded. "Go talk to him," she said. "Go tell him. He'll want to hear it from you."

"He already knows," said In-joo. "He seems to always know everything."

"It doesn't matter if he knows. He'll still want to hear you tell him."

Somehow, In-hye always saw the heart of the matter. She had grown so much, and it had only been a year. Or... had she always been this mature, and no one had seen it? It was hard to tell. Things had become so blurred after what had happened.

But either way, she was right. In-joo should tell Do-il. And In-kyung too, but In-joo already knew what her sister would say. Why didn't you talk to him first?! I can wait!

In-joo sat down next to Do-il, who regarded her calmly as he placed his phone back into his pocket. "You can tell me when you're ready," he said. "There's no rush."

"I'm not ready," she said quietly. "I didn't want it to end like this. But it was the only way I could think to keep you safe."

"I know."

"It was worth it," she insisted.

"I agree," he said, and that confused her most of all. She would have expected him to tell her that she shouldn't have acted, but...

Do-il continued. His response was simple, but it explained everything. "Because I would have done it for you."

"I don't know what I'm going to do," said In-joo. "We didn't have enough time. It isn't fair." Inside, she felt like she was falling apart. On the outside, she was doing her best to match Do-il's calm. How did he do it?

"Don't give up hope. It's not as black and white as they want you to think. There's so much more that needs to happen before this gets anywhere approaching a conclusion. And if they make even one mistake, you know that I'll be right there."

She knew. And maybe that should have made her feel better. But all she could feel was the sickening certainty that everything she had worked for was about to come crashing down around her.

In-kyung seemed to have entered into her frame of vision, and Do-il had noticed. He stood from the table. "I'll give you two a moment," he said. "But I'm ready when you are. You won't be alone."

She wanted to thank him, even though she knew that he'd insist there was no point. But he was gone too fast, like always.

In-kyung sat down on the other side of In-joo. She wore a fiery expression. "We won't let them do this without a fight," she said. "You haven't done anything wrong."

"I don't even know if that's true anymore," In-joo said. "I wish it was that easy."

"We're going with you," In-kyung said fiercely. "You know that, right?"

In-joo smiled. "I know. You wouldn't let me go by myself if I tried. But I don't want to go by myself. I want to be with all of you. Whatever happens, I want to be with you."

"We'll figure this all out," In-kyung said. "I promise. We're all together now. There's nothing that we can't do."

In-joo wished that she believed her. But she had seen too much. Sometimes, the world didn't care about what was right or what made sense. Sometimes, bad things just happened for no reason. She prepared herself to deal with the reality that would surely be coming once she made it to Interpol.

Do-il was doing his best to keep a lid on his emotions. He didn't want to upset In-joo any further, nor did he want to lose his cool, as it would only decrease his effectiveness. Whatever came next, he knew that would need to be at the top of his game.

The whole group entered the Interpol headquarters together. He didn't know if they had all been expected, but he didn't care. Even Park Hyo-rin was there, looking around with her usual childlike wonder. No, not childlike. She was a child. Sometimes it was just easy to forget that, with everything she had seen.

The Interpol agents tried to take only In-joo. Do-il had been forced to step up and declare himself as her lawyer again. One of the agents had then questioned who everyone else was, to which Do-il had stated they were his assistants.

Everyone knew it was nonsense, but no one seemed willing to argue.

And so they had all been taken back to a small room, bigger than an interrogation room, and more comfortably furnished, but still clearly designed to be imposing.

Ko Min-jun was already there, looking very serious, as he always did. "Please, sit down," he said, as the door shut behind them.

Do-il didn't care about the pleasantries. They were all here for one reason, and it was time to get it over with. "Say what you need to say," he responded without sitting. He stood behind the chair that In-joo was sitting in. He didn't reach out and put a hand on her shoulder, but he was close enough that he knew she could feel his presence. That was enough.

Min-jun seemed to be gathering his thoughts. He looked, as he usually did, a little apologetic. "I know this hasn't been easy for you. Especially after everything that you've already gone through. And I've been looking at things a bit differently since we encountered Soo-im together."

"You mean since you showed up too late to be of any use at all?" In-joo's voice was surprisingly hard. It wasn't like her to sound like that.

Min-jun winced. "I understand your anger. I just ask you to understand the position that I'm in."

In-joo didn't even flinch. "I hope you can understand why I don't really care about the position that you're in."

Min-jun sighed. "I do. So I think instead, I'll just get right to the point." He paused and looked down.

Do-il found himself surprisingly holding his breath. It wasn't like him to get this rattled, but he couldn't deny that he was now awaiting Interpol's decision with perhaps as much anxiety as In-joo. That surprised him. He must have been feeling this the whole time, without even realizing it.

"I've decided to drop the investigation against you," Min-jun said plainly. "After a few days of thought, I believe this is the correct course of action."

Do-il blinked. Had he misheard? Of everything that might have happened, this was what he suspected least. In fact, it had never even crossed his mind.

"W-what?" In-joo asked weakly. "What do you mean?"

Min-jun seemed to be choosing his words very carefully. Do-il was suddenly aware of the fact that everything they said in this room would be recorded. "There's not enough evidence for it to be worth pursuing. I've officially recommended that we cease any active investigations into you, your sisters, and any of your associates. I'd also like to formally apologize for any distress that you may have been caused."

In-joo sagged. "Y-you're serious."

Min-jun nodded. "I am. I wanted you to be here so that we could officially tell you and put this to rest."

"Am I... am I free to go?" she asked.

Do-il didn't see how it could be this easy. They were just going to let them walk away? If that was the case, he would have them all on the next plane to America as soon as they were packed. That way, they'd be out of reach of the CIA. Everything else could wait.

"You are," said Min-jun. "Once again, I want to apologize."

In-joo stood up quickly and unsteadily. "Thank you," she said in a stiff voice, before turning and heading to the door. Do-il followed closely behind her. She was walking shakily and he didn't want her to fall over.

As soon as they were out into the hallway, she leaned against the wall and came to a dead stop. "Oh my god," she whispered. "What just happened?"

Do-il shook his head. "I don't know. But he clearly didn't think he could talk openly in here. That means we can't either."

In-joo nodded. Do-il knew everyone else was looking to him for guidance. It was a strange feeling. He was used to being in control, but only for himself. To have so many people counting on him... he wasn't used to it yet.

Do-il turned, gently placed a hand on In-joo's back, and helped her steady herself so that they could make it out of the building. After that, they could handle whatever came next.

In-joo stumbled as they made it outside. She couldn't help it. Her legs barely felt like they were working. She was free? They weren't going to arrest her? Just like that? Something must have happened, something must have changed. But she didn't know what it could be.

Even Do-il didn't seem to know what was going on, and if anything was a sign that something was wrong, it was that.

But she was still free. There was that.

"What's going on?" In-kyung finally asked once they were outside.

"I don't know," Do-il muttered. "I need to reach out to some contacts and see if anything has changed. I had some people who were able to tell me that they were going to arrest you initially. Maybe they know something—"

"Ms. Oh? Over here. We should probably talk."

In-joo whipped her head to the side to once again see Min-jun. He must have come out of a side exit. He gave the group a rueful smile. "It's just me. I thought it might be better for us to have a more honest conversation outside."

In-joo glanced at Do-il. His jaw was clenched, but nevertheless, he nodded. He must have been thinking the same thing that In-joo was thinking—even if they couldn't trust him, this was the only way they could learn more.

"Together?" she whispered to him.

He nodded. "Together."

Notes:

Thank you for waiting patiently! Like I said, chapters might be a little slower for the foreseeable future, but they will still be here regularly!

And this time, the plot advances, and we start to see a little more as to what's really going on...

Thank you to all my wonderful readers! You continuously give me energy to keep moving forward. I really appreciate your time, your comments, and your kudos.

Until next time!

Chapter 14

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In-kyung didn't trust the Interpol officer. Once, she probably would have. After all, he was an officer of the law. But she had seen too much, and her trust was hard to come by these days.

So when he told them to follow him to a more private location, she wasn't sure that she actually wanted to do that.

"We can't talk here," he said. His calmness was nearly matching that of Do-il's but there was an undercurrent of nervousness to the Interpol officer. Min-jun, she thought his name was. "It's not safe. I don't know who I trust anymore."

"But you trust us?" In-kyung asked skeptically. "Weren't you just trying to arrest us?"

Min-jun bowed his head apologetically. "Things have changed. I hope you'll understand after I explain anything."

Do-il shook his head. "There's no reason why we shouldn't just flee the country right now. You haven't exactly given us a reason to stay."

Min-jun's expression was veering toward desperation. "Because Ward isn't going to stop until he gets what he wants. The only reason he pulled Soo-im away was because she was threatening to undo his plans."

"And what does he want?" In-kyung countered. "You still haven't told us anything we can act on."

"I don't know!" Min-jun said, now clearly frustrated. "But I don't like his methods and I don't like what he's done. If you come with me, I will tell you everything I know, but we need to go now."

In-kyung looked to In-joo, then to In-hye. She cared about Jong-ho, obviously. Even Do-il and Hyo-rin were important to her. But none of them were her sisters. And no matter who was in her life, she knew now that her sisters were always going to come first.

In-joo hesitated, then nodded. In-hye didn't even hesitate.

That was enough for In-kyung.

"Alright," she said. "Where do you want to go?"

"There's an Interpol safe house not far from here," Min-jun said. "Ward doesn't know about it. We can talk safely there."

"Won't Interpol overhear us?" Do-il asked. "Even if we trust you, I don't trust them."

Min-jun shook his head. "It's an operational house. There won't be outside surveillance in there. It's a closed loop, which means I'll have full control. Will you meet me there?"

In-kyung nodded. "Give us the address."

Maybe it was foolish. But they were deep in this now. And if this was what it took to find answers, then so be it.

In-hye had spent most of her time back with her sisters in silence, unless she was talking with Hyo-rin. Truthfully, it didn't bother her. That was the kind of person she was growing to be, and she didn't mind it.

She had also discovered that in many cases, silence served her better than the alternative. People tended to speak more when around someone quiet. It had helped her before, and she knew it would continue to help her now.

But more than that, she was beginning to realize that it was just her personality. She liked who she was becoming. A quiet, thoughtful person. Hyo-rin always said that was why she liked her. And In-hye was proud of it. Too many people tried to talk too much. She didn't want to be one of them.

Everyone else seemed to not trust the Interpol agent. But In-hye thought she saw something in him that the rest of her family didn't. He wasn't a bad man. He was just a tired man, one who had seen too much and had his view of the world beaten out of him.

"Are you okay?" In-hye turned to whisper to Hyo-rin. The girl had been very quiet as the events had unfolded, and In-hye wanted to check in on her. She had seen firsthand what could happen when Hyo-rin was under too much stress.

But Hyo-rin just looked at In-hye and smiled. "I'm good," she said. "I've been good for a long time. I think once, this would have been too much for me. But now, I just feel safe. Do you know what I mean?"

Strangely, In-hye thought that she did know. "If you feel it happening again," In-hye said, "tell me. Because I need to make sure that you're safe."

"I am safe," said Hyo-rin, taking In-hye's hand and smiling. "I'm safe as long as I'm with you."

In-hye wished that was true. But being around the Oh sisters had become something of a dangerous location.

Even so, she was glad that Hyo-rin was here. When In-hye's thoughts started to get away from her, when the word started to seem like it was too much, Hyo-rin always managed to calm her down. They made a good pair.

In-hye didn't know what that meant exactly but it was enough for her.

They arrived at the Interpol safe house after Min-jun, which wasn't a surprise to Do-il. He knew the location better than they did, and it was a safe house that he was using, not them.

On the outside, it didn't look like much. Specifically, it looked like a shut down electronic store. The inside, however, was a different matter.

After they moved past the front area, the part that was still set up to look like a shuttered store, they stepped into the actual safe house part of the building. It wasn't fancy, but it was clearly kitted out with everything an Interpol operation might need. There was plenty of surveillance equipment and electronics.

But all of it was currently going untouched. Min-jun was just sitting on a chair off the side of the room. He had clearly been waiting for them.

"Please, sit down," he said.

Do-il didn't trust the man. Do-il didn't trust anyone except for the people he had come with. But Min-jun had too recently been their enemy for Do-il to just suddenly forget everything that had come before.

Even so, Do-il sat.

"You have answers for us?" he asked.

Min-jun looked tired. There were circles under his eyes, like he hadn't properly slept in days. Do-il understood that feeling all too well.

"I might. I would have told you back at the headquarters, but I don't know who I can trust anymore. I know I don't trust Jack Ward. I trust all of you more than I trust him."

"Give it to us straight," Do-il said. "My limited patience for this kind of thing wore out a long time ago. Probably somewhere around the time that Soo-im was beating me with a pipe."

Min-jun bowed his head respectfully. "I'm truly sorry about that. But I know my words don't mean anything right now. That's why I'm trying to show you with my actions. I trust you more than anyone else right now, because at least I know what you're trying to accomplish. And I do know that Jack Ward has been engaging in illegal activities on Korean soil. There's only so much you can get away with, even if you are part of the CIA."

Do-il was beginning to see where this was going, but he chose to stay silent.

"I want to work with you. All of you. I want to see if we can stop Ward before he hurts anyone else."

In-joo made a noise that was halfway between choking and coughing. "You... are you serious? You tried to arrest me."

"That was a mistake."

"You keep saying that," said In-joo. "Prove it. What do you want to do?"

Do-il finally decided it was time to say something. "Nothing. Or rather, it doesn't matter what he wants. Because we're not taking part in it. We're leaving for America, and that's the end of it. The CIA won't be able to follow us there, and that's good enough for me."

"No," said In-joo.

It was one word, but it grabbed all of Do-il's attention. "What?" He hadn't seen that coming at all.

"We can't just keep running. You tried that once. And look how that turned out." There was no judgment in her voice, but Do-il winced anyway. Her point was well-made.

"If we keep running, someone will find us eventually. And we all have lives now. I don't think any of us are willing to just get rid of them so we can run away from this."

"Yes, but—" The thought of her once again throwing herself into headlong danger was unthinkable. He couldn't do it again. Even if Interpol was backing them, it wouldn't be safe. It would never be safe so long as this was the world they were living in.

"But this is the right thing to do."

"I don't care about the right thing to do," he responded. "I care about keeping you safe." He said it before he had a chance to even think, and after the words came out of his mouth, he realized what he had said. Everyone was looking at him, most of them with blank expressions, though In-joo's face had gone slightly pink when he had spoken.

"Regardless of the motive, he makes a good point," said In-kyung. "This is going to create danger for all of us. But you already know what my answer is going to be. I made a career out of throwing myself headlong into danger. I think this—whatever it is—is another opportunity for us to show the world something that they need to see."

Do-il didn't agree, and he wasn't willing to let it go. "The world doesn't need to know about this. Another CIA scandal won't change anything. It's happened before, and it didn't matter. It happened with Jeongran, and it didn't matter. There's no reason for us to put ourselves back in the spotlight for something like this."

In-kyung didn't appear ready to back down. Of course not. She was In-joo's sister, and she possessed the same fierce moral compass. "Jeongran was decades ago. It wasn't going to change anything other than the perception of the people who were involved. This is different. This is happening now. We have to make it mean something."

Do-il knew that he was going to lose the argument. He also knew that once, he wouldn't have cared. He would have just left. It wasn't his problem. But things weren't that simple for him anymore. And whatever In-joo decided, he knew he was going to go with her.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked In-joo in a quiet voice.

She looked at him with a surprised expression on her face. "What? I mean, of course."

"Privately," said Do-il.

Everyone else in the room exchanged a look, but no one said anything. In-joo stood up and Do-il followed her to the front of the safe house, the abandoned-looking part of it that served as its disguise.

Do-il closed the door behind him and looked steadily at In-joo, who still seemed surprised to have been asked. "What is it?" she questioned.

"You have to see that this is a bad idea," he said. "I can't protect you from the CIA. Not forever. That man has more resources and more information."

In-joo considered his words, and then shook her head.

In-joo was shocked that he had pulled her aside. She was used to Do-il just making decisions, regardless of what she thought. When they had been taking on Park Jae-sang, he hadn't even told her what his plan was.

So what was this about?

"I don't want you to protect me," she said. "I don't expect that. I never did."

"It's not about what you expect—"

"Do-il, I'm not stopping you from leaving. If you want to go, you can. I don't blame you if you don't want to get involved in this. But In-kyung is right. We can't just stand by and let people like Ward do whatever they want."

Do-il was visibly starting to lose his patience. "We don't even know what Ward wants. This is a mistake."

"Then go."

"I'm not going to abandon you. Not again."

"Why? Why does it matter so much to you?" In-joo challenged him. "You don't owe me anything else. You know that by now." Her patience was going too. Do-il was clever and skillful, but in this case, she knew that he was wrong.

"Because I—" But he stopped himself mid-sentence. Whatever he was about to say, it didn't come out.

"Because you what?"

"Because if something happened to you, I wouldn't be able to live with myself," he said finally, his voice subdued. "Surely you can understand that."

Her frustration died away. He was struggling just as much as she was. He wasn't doing this to hurt her. He wasn't doing this because he didn't trust her. He was just doing it because... he didn't know any other way. This was how he cared for people. He tried to take care of them.

Even when they didn't try to take care of themselves.

"I know," she said. "But I'm doing this. My sisters deserve to be able to live a life where they don't have to look over their shoulders every single day. And you know what? You deserve that too. You could stay here. With me."

His eyes widened, just a little, at her words. She hadn't even thought about them before she had spoken. She had just said them. But she did mean them.

"Once it's over, we can do anything we want," she said. "The last year... think about it. We were all free. We were happy. Or at least, they were happy. I was..."

"Alone," Do-il finished.

In-joo nodded. "Yes. And you were too. But we don't have to be."

Do-il sighed, turned, and directed his gaze out the window. She could see his self-loathing threatening to overtake him, as it did so often.

"Stop doing that," she said. "Stop running away from me. Talk to me."

"I don't know how," he said simply.

She paused, not sure of what to say. Maybe it was better to say nothing, to just let him put his thoughts out there for her to hear.

"I never really learned. Maybe once, when I was young, I knew. But all of that was a long time ago. My life changed, and nothing was ever the same again. I think about it sometimes. What would I have been like if I had grown up with a normal family? Would I have been an artist, like In-hye? A writer or reporter, like In-kyung? Or would I have been a good person, like you?"

In-joo reached out for him, wanting to touch him, to reassure him that he was a good person, that he wasn't what he thought. But her hand fell short as he continued to stare out the dusty window, the light only barely making it past the film that seemed to shield the shop from the outside world.

"And then every time I start thinking of it all, I realize it doesn't matter. Because none of that happened. Because this is how I turned out. And I know what you're thinking—that what I turned out to be is enough, that you're proof of that, that all of this is proof of that. Maybe you're right. Maybe it doesn't even matter. But In-joo, when I think of you in the hands of that man, or worse, Soo-im... I simply cannot imagine anything worse. I would do anything to keep that reality from becoming true. If that means losing your respect, I can live with that. If it means losing our... friendship, then so be it. As long as you're alive, I think that would be enough for me."

"Do-il..."

"If I sound ridiculous, I don't think I care anymore. Don't you understand?" He turned from the window, the filtered light from the outside falling on his back. When she saw his face, she saw that his expression bore the most emotion she had ever seen on it—a mix of fear, loneliness, loss, and regret. "I know what the right thing to do is. You showed that to me. I see it now. But I don't care. If I'm forced to choose between doing the right thing and doing the thing that means safety for you... then it isn't any choice at all."

She smiled, and reached for his hand. It was so much larger than hers, but she took it anyway and squeezed it, firmly but reassuringly. "Do-il. Look at me."

"I am. I think I have been ever since I came back."

"No. I mean, really look at me."

He looked. She felt his gaze shifting, changing—not seeing her as the rest of the world saw her, but as she wanted herself to be seen.

"Do-il, you know that without you, I wouldn't be here. Everything that happened... it wasn't something I would have survived on my own. But I'm not the same person I used to be. And neither are you. The fact that we're standing here, having this conversation proves it. It's okay to be scared. I'm scared. I'm terrified, honestly. I've been waking up, having nightmares about finding you with Soo-im. Except in my dreams, I'm too late. And there's no last minute rescue. Because she's already killed you. I know all too well that those dreams could happen. Not just to you, but to me. To my sisters. To the people we care about. But we have to do this. If there's even a chance that Ward might go after someone else—or come after us—then we have to make sure that it can't happen. And I think you know that working with Interpol is the best way... maybe the only way for us to achieve that."

Do-il didn't say anything. He didn't even more. He just stood there, staring at her. She had no idea what he was thinking. For a second, she wondered if she had gone too far, just like when she had brought up his family, all those months ago. When he had stormed out on her.

But it was too late to take it back. So she just kept going.

"I don't know what you want. I don't really know what I want, either. But I remember you in Singapore, risking your life to save me. I remember you in a gas mask, carrying an arsenal, because there was no other plan that would have worked. I remember you in a courtroom, staring at me with utter certainty. I trust you. Please, trust me. Whatever you choose, I won't hold it against you. I'm just telling you—I'd prefer the version where we do this together."

Do-il still said nothing. In-joo allowed herself to fall into silence. She kept her eyes on his and decided that no matter what his response was, she was happy with what she had said. It had needed to be said. Maybe now, he could understand how she felt a little better.

Maybe now, she understood how she felt a little better.

Finally, he said something.

"Okay."

In-joo blinked. "What?"

"Okay. You're right."

"What? That's it?"

Do-il appeared to not understand. "I don't follow."

"I tell you all that, and all you say to me is... okay?"

"Did you expect anything else?"

That, at least, got her to smile. Just a little. But it was enough. "No. I guess I didn't."

"Then I suppose we should go see what comes next. If we're going to bring down a CIA member, we'll need to know as much as we can."

In-joo nodded. And for a moment, she felt like it was just the two of them against the world again, surrounded by mystery, with danger at every turn. It was a strangely nostalgic feeling.

But as they returned to the back of the safe house, she couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to not feel those things. To feel something else. A sense of safety and security. Of comfort and stability.

One day, she told herself. One day I'll find all of that out.

And I won't do it alone.

Notes:

Apologies for the delay! I know this one took a little longer, so I added a few extra hundred words to it and tried to give you all a nice scene at the end.

The next chapter will be delayed a little due to other responsibilities I have going on in my life right now, but I AM still writing! After this week, things will pick back up again, I just wanted to make everyone aware.

Thank you so much to everyone who is reading and commenting! I really appreciate all of you. I hope you're still enjoying!

Chapter 15

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In-hye felt an emotion that she didn't have a word for. It wasn't deja vu, although it was close. No, this was something else.

She felt like she was falling backwards in time, drowning in a feeling of helplessness. She was glad that she had returned to see her sisters. But at the same time, she was frightened. After everything she had faced before, she had never expected herself to have to go through something like this again.

Sometimes, she felt like the choices in her life had already been made for her, and she was just following a script. She could still remember what it felt like to die—all because of a sister that she had never known. That had been a decision made for her, one that she had no way of fighting against.

Sometimes, Hyo-rin felt like her life preserver. When the world was too much, when the accumulated experiences of her short lifetime threatened to overwhelm her, Hyo-rin was always there, a beacon of light in a world that sometimes seemed overrun with darkness.

When In-hye was with Hyo-rin, she wasn't afraid anymore. She didn't know what that meant, but she knew it as a fact.

"It will all be okay," Hyo-rin said quietly.

In-hye stared up at the ceiling. She was exhausted from traveling and from the events of the day, but she couldn't manage to get her brain shut off enough to fall asleep. "Why?" she asked.

Hyo-rin was in the bed beside her, and she was turned on her side, looking at In-hye. She thought for a minute before responding. "Because we always make it okay. No matter what. Remember what happened before? Even when people were trying to kill us. Even when they wanted me to think that you had run away. Everything was still okay."

In-hye knew that Hyo-rin saw the world differently. Sometimes she envied her friend. Sometimes she remembered the hell that Hyo-rin had needed to survive to get this far.

"I'm not afraid of dying," said In-hye. "I'm just afraid of losing everyone."

It was a strange thing for her to admit. Especially after she had spent so much of her life being content with her solitude. Maybe it had taken nearly dying and then traveling the globe for her to realize what was most important to her.

People had always told her that money couldn't buy happiness. But the only people who had said that were the ones who already had money. They couldn't have understood what it meant to her.

Her sisters hadn't understood. Or... maybe they had. Maybe they had understood all too well. Maybe that was why they had both tried so hard to keep her safe from the mistakes she had been trying to make.

"I'm afraid of death. I want to live. But I don't want to live on my own," said Hyo-rin. "I'm more afraid of other people dying. You told me once that you knew what it was like."

In-hye nodded. She still saw those moments in her dreams. Being unable to breathe. Being carried on the back of someone bigger and stronger, through the night, until everything began to fade and the only thing that remained was the realization that it was all too late. "It was like sinking. But not into water. It was a pool of ink, gently pulling me down."

"But it wasn't you."

"No. But I thought it was me. And that was what mattered the most." In-hye shivered. Suddenly, she felt very cold. She turned her head to face Hyo-rin. "Hyo-rin?"

"What is it?"

"Can I sleep with you?"

Hyo-rin nodded. In the darkness, In-hye could see her friend's smile. "Of course. We're not alone here."

"I know. Sometimes it's just nice to be reminded."

Agreeing to work with Interpol was one thing. Finding a solution to the crisis they currently faced was another. In-kyung had been shocked to find that Do-il had agreed. He had seemed so opposed to it initially. She wondered what In-joo had said to change his mind.

But in either case, it didn't matter much. There wasn't anything that they could do at the moment, and instead, were forced to go back to living their lives. Except they couldn't just return to where they had left off, which meant that she and Jong-ho couldn't return to America.

And Interpol didn't seem to be supporting what Min-jun was doing. Which meant their protective custody had gone away. On one hand, it was a relief. She didn't particularly enjoy being followed around everywhere. On the other hand, it was another level of security that was now gone.

She didn't like the idea of just sitting around and waiting for something to happen, but she understood why it was necessary. She had signed up for this. And it gave her more time to continue looking into the Jeongran unit.

Jack Ward was a relative mystery. She couldn't find anything about him, which wasn't a surprise. It wasn't like an active CIA agent would have accessible information.

Throughout her efforts though, Jong-ho made sure she took care of herself. He was never pushy about it, but he was effective. There were no missed meals, and despite her best efforts, no missed sleep either.

"You won't get anything done if you're exhausted," he said more than once. "It will still be there tomorrow."

It only ever took him a few tries to get her to comply.

Being back in Korea felt unspeakably strange to her for a number of reasons. The biggest was that the last time she had lived here, she had been poor. Now, the country looked very different to her.

It hadn't taken them any time at all to find places to stay. And they hadn't just picked the first thing to appear either—they had taken time to find something they wanted. It was a surreal experience, to not only be able to pick where she wanted to live, but also to be able to choose the kind of place that once, she had only been able to dream about.

Doing it in America had almost felt like it made sense. After all, she had never lived there before. There was nothing for her to compare it to. But doing it here, back in the country she had grown up in... it was unthinkable.

And she was trying to spend as much time with her sisters as she could. In-hye was still quite private—but that was to be expected from a girl her age. In-joo, though, appeared to want to make up for missed time just as much as In-kyung.

"Does In-hye seem different to you?" In-joo asked In-kyung.

"Of course she does. It's been a year. People change. Especially when you're that young."

The two sisters had gone for lunch at the street cafe that was less than a block from where In-kyung had decided to stay. In-joo had been busy keeping her company running, but she had continued to find ways to make time for her sisters. Today, it was lunch.

In-kyung had been nervous at first of doing so much in public, but Do-il had made an excellent point. It wasn't like the CIA was going to just move against them in the middle of a crowd.

So the two of them had decided to make the most of their freedom while they could.

In-joo examined her food and didn't appear satisfied with In-kyung's answer. "I don't know. That's part of it, I think. But there's something else, too. And I don't know what it is. I'm just worried about my little sister. She doesn't want to talk to me."

"She doesn't want to talk to anyone. She's a teenager," said In-kyung. "Think about everything she's been through. She's probably grown a lot in the last year and she doesn't know how to tell us that. She'll figure it out eventually. We just have to give her time."

In-joo sighed. "I know. I just worry about her."

"Do you worry about me?"

In-joo cracked a grin at that. "I worry about everyone, it feels like."

"Everyone except yourself."

"I'm doing my best," said In-joo. "But it's easier said than done. I think you understand that, don't you?"

In-kyung did. She was still trying to balance her sense of right and wrong with her need to take care of herself. Jong-ho helped, but she still had a long road to go. "Well, I—"

"Room for a third?"

The voice came from nowhere, startling In-kyung and causing her to spin and look up hastily. When she saw who it was, the blood drained from her face. What was he doing here? Now?

Jack Ward slid into the seat next to her. He was wearing another suit with a button down shirt, but no tie. The first few buttons were undone. He looked like any other American businessman. But she knew that he was anything other than that.

"I didn't say yes," In-kyung said in a dark voice.

"Lunch date between sisters? That's a nice way to spend an afternoon. Are you sure that's the best idea right now though? Seems to me like the two of you probably have a lot to do."

In-kyung wanted to reach out and throttle him. She didn't care that she was in public. Who was this man to enter their lives and start systematically dismantling them? It wasn't fair. And there was no reason for it.

"Easy," Ward said. "I'm just here to talk."

"We don't have anything to talk about," In-kyung said. "So if you're not here in an official capacity, I want you to leave."

"I think you might want to hear what I have to say. Don't you want to know the reason why your lives have been shaken up so badly? Come on. You can't tell me that you're not curious."

In-joo spoke for the first time since Ward had arrived. "What's it going to cost us?"

"Cost you?" He looked surprised. "This is free. You'll be paying enough eventually."

"Are you going to do anything besides deliver vague threats and act like you're important?" In-kyung snapped. "Or are you going to actually say something of value?"

Ward laughed. "Sure. Whatever you want then. Whatever makes you happy. And no, I'm not here officially as a member of the CIA. I'm here to deliver a little bit of friendly advice."

"What's that?" In-joo asked.

"If you want to stay alive, you should start cooperating a little more," he said, his voice suddenly dropping low. "Otherwise things are going to get messy."

"Messy?" In-kyung asked. "What do you call what's already happened then? Because I think things have been messy enough."

"This was me trying to handle things cleanly. Soo-im wasn't acting under my orders."

"But you did partner with her," In-joo said quietly. "Even though you know what she's done."

"And what would you have done?" Ward demanded. "Had you been in my position?"

"You killed people. You killed the guards in the penthouse. Just to… prove a point? I'm sorry, I don't feel sympathy for you," said In-joo.

Ward rested his hands on the armrest of the chair. "How about I tell you a story," he said. "And we can see if you think I've gone far enough after."

"Or you can leave. Now. Before anything else has to happen."

In-kyung turned again, because this voice was also one she recognized. When she saw who was standing there, she felt a spark of her fear and anger change into hope.

Do-il.

Somehow, he had known. Somehow, he was there.

In-joo was both relieved and shocked when she saw Do-il striding down the sidewalk to the cafe table where they were sitting. She had no idea what he was doing there, but at the moment, she didn't care. She didn't actually think that Ward was going to do anything violent—at least, not here—but she would feel immeasurably better if Do-il was there.

Not because she needed him to keep her safe. But just because she really felt like they were a team. Anything she could do, she could do better with him by her side.

Right now though, she was afraid that he was going to try and kill Jack Ward in the middle of the sidewalk. Do-il's eyes were blazing with fury and she wouldn't have been surprised if he tossed the American to the ground. He looked like he was only barely managing to maintain control.

"I think we've got room for a fourth," said Ward. "Where's the youngest? She should be here too. I'm sure she'd be very interested to hear about what's going on."

In-joo almost rose out of her seat at that one. "Don't even say her name."

Ward grinned. He seemed to just delight in needling all of them, but why? She didn't know him. She had never seen him before he had appeared in that penthouse. "Sit down, Do-il. I can call you Do-il, right? It feels like we already know each other quite well. Or at least, like I know you."

"I'm not going to play games with you," said Do-il. "I watched another woman do that once, and she nearly burned the entire world to the ground."

"Sang-a was very different from me," said Ward.

"Really? Because right now, I see the same kind of insanity." Do-il's face was hard. He looked like he was seconds away from snapping into violence.

"Sit down," said Ward, no longer asking. "Let's talk."

In-joo watched as Do-il sat down next to her, his eyes not leaving Ward the entire time. "Say what you need to say," Do-il ordered.

Ward looked at In-kyung, then at In-joo. He wore an intense expression. She shivered a little as his gaze met her. What was he thinking? Who was this man that had been trying to spread chaos into every part of her life?

"It's funny. I feel like I've known you for years. But I hadn't even heard of you until you started poking around the Jeongran society," Ward said. "If you hadn't ever done that, we wouldn't be sitting here. Tell me something, do you know what it's like to spend your whole life working on something, and then have it ripped away from you?"

"If you want me to feel sorry for you, I don't," said In-joo. "If you knew where I came from…"

"Oh, I know. And I think you of all people would understand what I went through to get where I am. You were born with nothing. I was born with a family that was reviled. I never really had a choice of what I would end up doing with my life. My father and my grandfather were both in the agency. Sure, I could have done something else. But what kind of kid was going to let down his family's legacy like that? Not me."

In-joo stayed quiet. She didn't see where he was going with this, but if he was willing to just keep talking, then she would listen. Beside her, she could tell that Do-il was still ready to fly into action at a moment's notice.

"You know that one million dollars in the Vietnam war is worth almost ten million today? Imagine being the person who was in charge of the Jeongran operation. The United States paid a million dollars to the Korean government to make sure that special forces unit died in Vietnam. And then they didn't. One million dollars, gone, because you trusted the wrong person. And then not only did those soldiers survive, but they formed one of the most elite secret societies on the planet."

In-joo shook her head. She thought she was beginning to see what had happened. "Your grandfather…"

"He was the one who paid the Korean government to ensure the deaths of the special forces unit," Ward said, nodding.

"That's the worst excuse I've ever heard," In-kyung shot back. "Your grandfather made a mistake, so you make it your life's work to—"

"You don't understand how these people work. Ten million dollars, just missing. Not coming back. The Korean government told us it wasn't their fault, but what difference did that make? Everyone pointing fingers, and the only person who could end up taking the blame was the man who made the deal. My grandfather."

In-joo wasn't impressed. "That's it? A chip on your shoulder?"

Ward leaned in and snarled. "They destroyed my family! My grandfather washed out. He was never the same. Forced early retirement that ended with him putting a bullet in his head. My father went into the agency after him, and…"

"My mother abandoned us," In-joo said softly. "We had nothing but ourselves. You can't blame the world for your problems."

"I lost my father to that job. He was never able to set things right either. He never had the stomach to do what needed to be done. But me… I was different. From the day I started, I was different. My family name meant that I was a joke to them. But now, what am I? I'm the one who can put everything back the way it was meant to be."

"That money is gone," said Do-il. "You know that. The Korean government took it."

"The Jeongran society was never supposed to exist!" spat Ward. "That illegal money can be the compensation for America lost."

In-joo saw it now. She understood why this man was so intent on them. It wasn't about them, not really. It was about what they had done. "You were going to take down Jeongran on your own," she whispered. "And then we did it for you."

Ward smiled, but it was the smile of a predator about to strike. "And you took my prize. All that money, gone. If you had just waited a few more weeks, I would have done it. Years of work, of tracing their movements, of building up evidence that they never even knew existed. All meaningless in the face of what you had done."

"The money is gone," said Do-il. "If you saw the accounts, then you know what I did. There isn't anything left."

Agent Jack Ward turned his gaze to Do-il, and his face settled into an expression of sheer focus, backed with more than a hint of animosity. "The fact that you really believe that is exactly why I'm going to win. You can run wherever you want to. There's only one way this ends."

He paused, and In-joo realized for a second just how empty his eyes were. It was like there was nothing behind them, only the single minded determination that had been driving him for so long.

"It ends the only way it ever could. History will see me for what I am. And there's nothing that any of you can do to stop me."

Notes:

I'm back!

And you can look forward to regular updates for about the next month! I apologize for the longer wait, and I hope it was worth the delay. Because FINALLY we get some answers as to what Jack Ward is trying to do!

Thank you for being patient, and I hope to post again in just a couple of days! As always, thank you for your constant and continued support. You're all a beacon of joy in my writing hobby, and it means so much to me.

Chapter 16

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Even though they now knew more than they had before, it didn't make Do-il feel any better. He had been so close to just punching Ward right there on the street, despite knowing that was more than likely what the CIA agent wanted. How dare he confront In-joo and her sister like that? Who was he to—?

But no. He needed to get his emotions under control. Ward had probably wanted to get under his skin. Do-il was just happy that he had managed to get there when he did. If he had missed the encounter, he would have been kicking himself later.

After Ward had left, In-joo had said goodbye to In-kyung, then taken Do-il's hand and excused herself, leading him away from the cafe, to a small grassy area nearby that had benches placed around the perimeter. It wasn't quite a park, but it was quiet and had the same effect.

In-joo sat down and let go of his hand, then looked at him with a serious expression on her face. "Were you following me?"

"What?" He had no idea why she was asking that.

"How did you know where I was? How did you know to come here?"

Do-il paused. Because he understood now what she was upset about, and he couldn't even say that she was wrong. He wasn't tracking her or anything. But… well, when he had heard that she was going to see In-kyung, he had wrapped up what he was doing and went out after her, just to make sure that nothing went wrong. As it turned out, it was a good thing that he had done so.

"It wasn't like that," he said calmly. "I heard where you were going and decided to come too. Korea isn't the safest place for us right now."

In-joo nodded, seemingly believing him. It came as a relief. There was no way for him to prove that what he was saying was true, but he meant every word. It would have been easy for her to fly into an indignant rage, and truthfully, he wouldn't have blamed her.

But as always, she just seemed to… understand.

"Okay. I trust you. And… I trust you to trust me."

Do-il felt himself relax a little. He had been mentally preparing himself for an argument that had never materialized.

"What are we going to do?" In-joo asked him. "Can we buy him off? If it's money he wants, we could just pay him—"

Do-il had already considered that, but he knew it wasn't going to work. "No. This man doesn't care about money. He cares about what the money represents. For him, taking down Jeongran and claiming their assets would have been a way to bring honor to his family. That option is gone now. The only path forward for him is to take us on."

"We did his job for him," In-joo said miserably. "He should be happy."

"It isn't about the fact that it's done. It's about the fact that he wasn't the one to do it. The only thing he cares about is being the one to find the success. We took that from him without even knowing it. These are the consequences."

"I just want to live," said In-joo. "Is that so much to ask? Why does there always have to be consequences? Life was never like this before."

Do-il sighed. "I learned that this was the way the world works a long time ago. But it's not the whole world. Just the section that we belong to now."

"What if we didn't? What if we were poor?"

Do-il looked at her for a minute and then smiled. "Then maybe we wouldn't have to worry about this. But we'd have a whole new set of worries. There's no easy answer to that question."

"Are you worried?"

"Honestly? A little. He reminds me of Sang-a. He's just as determined, but for different reasons. I've seen men like him before. Men who think that their pain is the only thing that matters, that their goal is justification for whatever they do. You've seen men like that too. If you give them power, they can become truly dangerous."

"And he has power," murmured In-joo. "Is it strange that I don't think he's actually a bad person? Even after what he's already done?"

Do-il hadn't even considered whether or not Jack Ward was a good person. That sort of question just didn't matter to him. All that mattered was that the agent was an obstacle. One that needed to be removed.

"I don't know anything about that," said Do-il. "I have no idea what kind of person he is. That's never been the way I thought about things. When I saw him sitting there with you, though, there was only one thought on my mind."

In-joo looked like she was half-curious, half-certain what he was going to say. Do-il questioned whether or not he should even tell her. But the question was gone in a moment. Like he had said to her before, he wasn't trying to hide anything from her anymore.

"The only thing I was thinking about was how if he moved—if he even looked at you the wrong way—I was going to kill him." He paused and cracked the tiniest bit of a grin. "I know. It's not necessary. He didn't hurt you and you can take of yourself. I understand both of those things. But I'm just telling you what I was thinking. You look at people and you see what kind of person they are. I look at people and I see…"

"Something else," In-joo said.

Do-il was both amazed and heartened by the fact that she didn't seem afraid of what he had said to her. He had momentarily worried that if he admitted the extent of his violent thoughts, that she would have been unnerved. Instead, she seemed to have just taken it at face value and moved on.

She kept talking. "I think I understand how someone could turn out like that. I think any of us could have turned out like that. It's so easy to just be so fixated on what you want and what happened to you, that you just miss the rest of the world."

"I think I was close to turning out like that," said Do-il.

"No," said In-joo. "You've always been more complicated than that. Even if you didn't think so. I knew when I first saw you. No one else seemed to know, but I did."

"Really? What did you know? Did you know that the two of us would end up sitting on this bench, trying to overthrow an illegal CIA operation?"

In-joo laughed. Do-il smiled softly at her. The mere fact that she was capable of thinking things like that, even about someone like Jack Ward, showed the kind of person she was. The thought had never even crossed his mind.

It said something about the two of them and their connection. He just couldn't put his finger on it.

Yet.

In-hye and Hyo-rin were back in the Interpol safe house. In-hye thought it was strange that there was a safe house in this part of the city, but she didn't say anything. She was just glad that they were allowed to be there. In-kyung had wanted the two young girls to stay behind, but In-hye had insisted that it would be safer for them to be there.

It was true, anyway. She wasn't just making it up.

Shockingly, it had been Do-il who had convinced In-kyung that the best place for the girls to be was with the rest of the group.

In-hye liked Do-il. He treated her like an adult, or at the very least, he gave her the respect that she felt she deserved. From the moment he had explained his initial plan to her, he had always looked at her as someone who knew what she was doing. She appreciated that about him.

She also saw how happy he made In-joo. In-hye didn't know if In-joo was even aware of it yet, but she would figure it out eventually. She was always so good with other people that sometimes she missed the obvious truths about herself.

The adults were all talking about what In-joo and In-kyung had just experienced. In-hye and Hyo-rin were off to the side, as far back from the rest of the group as they could get. It wasn't that In-hye didn't want to listen. But she didn't want to frighten Hyo-rin. Despite what the girl said, she was still delicate. And In-hye didn't want to accidentally trigger a panic attack.

In-hye fully expected no one to tell them the full story until much later, if at all. Which was why she was so surprised when Do-il came walking over to them, politely excusing himself from the rest of the group and making his way to where In-hye and Hyo-rin were seated on the ground, next to a large stack of files and boxes.

"Is something wrong?" In-hye asked.

"I think you already know the answer to that," said Do-il. He was looking down at them and seemed to be considering what to do next. He surprised her by choosing to sit on the ground next to them, unbuttoning his suit as he did so.

"Yeah. I guess I do."

She wondered what he was doing over here. It was strange to see one of the adults treating them like this. She wanted to ask him why, but she knew he would never tell her.

"Things are going to get dangerous again," Do-il said. "I'd like to send the two of you to America. You could continue what you were doing before, but you'd be safe from whatever the CIA is planning."

In-hye and Hyo-rin glanced at each other. In-hye's expression asked the question without having to use words. Hyo-rin just seemed to understand.

"We want to stay," Hyo-rin said after a moment. "Even if it's dangerous. We did it before. But In-hye's family is like my family now. I can't just leave them."

Do-il sighed. "I knew you were going to say that. You're all so much alike, despite your differences, you know that? I could tell you that the entire country of Korea was about to erupt in an explosion, and you would all choose to stay behind if you thought it was the right thing to do."

"I spent a long time acting selfishly," said In-hye. "I don't want to be that person anymore."

Do-il's eyes shifted from In-hye to Hyo-rin. He seemed to be realizing something. "Can I talk to you privately?" he asked In-hye.

In-hye glanced at Hyo-rin. "You can say it in front of her."

"I'm not so sure I can. It will only take a minute."

Hyo-rin looked nervous, but she nodded. "Go on. I'll be waiting."

In-hye stood up and followed Do-il to the front of the shop. Her sisters gave them a strange look as they passed, but didn't say anything. They were too deeply involved in whatever they were discussing to pay much attention.

Do-il closed the door behind him and looked down at In-hye. She felt very small. He was looking at her in a way that made her feel like he could see right through her, straight to her innermost thoughts.

Was that a bad thing? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad for someone to tell her what she was thinking. She had a hard enough time figuring it out on her own.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Be careful with that girl."

In-hye's voice was indignant. "Hyo-rin would never do anything to hurt us. She isn't that kind of person. She never was. She was just a girl in a bad situation."

Do-il shook his head. "That's not what I mean. I mean be careful with her."

In-hye was starting to realize what he meant. She didn't say anything, on the off chance that she was misreading the situation.

"That girl trusts you with her entire self," said Do-il. "That's a lot of responsibility. I saw her enough when I worked for Park Jae-sang. I know the sorts of things she was dealing with. One of my biggest regrets was that I couldn't help her. The world doesn't need any more traumatized children. It has enough of those."

"I'm not going to hurt her."

"Maybe not intentionally. But that's a large burden to bear."

"You would know, wouldn't you?" asked In-hye. Her tone was only slightly challenging. "Because I see the way my sister looks at you."

Do-il blinked. "That's... that's different."

"Really? Because I don't see how."

Do-il took a breath. "The world can be a cruel place, especially to young women. It's... different for me."

In-hye's face being to grow a little warm. She thought she might have understood what he was saying, but he wasn't being clear enough. Maybe that was on purpose.

"I can't say that I understand the position you're in. I don't know what it's like to be you. But I remember what it was like to be young and confused and lost. I was so much angrier than you."

"What are you trying to tell me?" In-hye asked. "Speak plainly."

"Sometimes, when you're young, it can feel like everyone else has forgotten about you or that they don't care. The isolation turns you angry. And the anger turns you into someone that you never intended to be. I don't want that to happen to you."

In-hye wasn't sure what to say. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Do-il seemed so serious.

"Take care of each other. When you find someone that you trust that much, someone who makes you genuinely happy, hold onto them. And do whatever you can to keep them safe. Nothing matters more in the world."

In-hye smiled. "That doesn't sound like the Mr. Choi Do-il that I used to know."

Do-il shrugged. "Things change. Even, apparently, me."

"Okay," said In-hye. "Just make sure that you take your own advice."

Do-il frowned in confusion. "I'm not sure I understand what you mean."

In-hye had to fight back the laughter that threatened to escape her lips. "You will eventually. And you'll probably be the last person to know."

Do-il looked at her curiously. "You're a very strange girl, do you know that?"

"I know. I don't think it's a bad thing though. I always wanted to be different from the rest of the world. Blending in is for people who don't have any ambitions."

"And you are not one of those people."

In-hye felt the glow of pride building up inside her. "No. I would say that I am not."

Do-il had given her a lot to think about. He had stoked the glowing embers that were forming in both her mind and her heart. She wasn't sure where any of it would lead, but it warmed it to know that he saw things in her that so many others didn't.

"We can't just do nothing," said In-kyung. "I won't accept that. We can investigate, or..."

"Or nothing," said Min-jun. "He holds all the cards right now."

"Unless we leave," said In-joo quietly. "Then we force him to act."

In-kyung shot a look at In-joo. Unless they leave? What was she talking about? She had been the one who had been fighting to stay. Had she changed her mind that fast?

"I know what you're thinking," said In-joo, looking back up at Do-il, who had just reentered the room. "But if we don't force him to act, then he holds all the cards. We have to do something."

"He already holds all the cards," said Min-jun, his voice frustrated. "Listen, I'm glad you called me. But we can't actually do anything. There isn't a trail. There's nothing for us to trace. We're just backpedaling and hoping he makes a mistake."

"He's not going to make a mistake," said In-joo. "I think we know this by now."

In-kyung was thinking. She didn't want to give up. Not yet. There had to still be a way that they could come out on top. They just needed to find it. "There might be a way."

Everyone stopped arguing and turned to look at her. She spoke slowly, still forming her thoughts as they exited her mouth. "He told us about his father and his grandfather. That might be enough to at least find out who they were. It probably won't be enough to get us out of the hole we're in, but it might give us a little more than we had before. A CIA agent that committed suicide, especially a high ranking one who had been tied to a Vietnam operation is important enough news that even if they tried to cover it up, there's likely some kind of trail buried."

Min-jun didn't seem convinced. "That's probably true. But what good does that do us?"

"We won't know until we try," said In-kyung fiercely. "And I don't plan on giving up. So for now, we need to stay here and keep going. Even if he tries to threaten us. Even if he keeps following us. We've all dealt with worse before."

"I'm not so sure that's true," Do-il murmured. "But I agree with you. Forcing him to act right now might be dangerous. We've already antagonized him. Leaving now could be the final straw."

In-kyung appreciated his support, especially because it hadn't been that long since he had been the one who wanted to leave.

In-joo looked just as frustrated as Min-jun. In-kyung sympathized. In-joo wanted to do the right thing, but it was hard to say with any certainty what that even was. Do-il wanted to keep them safe, but it was unclear how to best do that.

And In-kyung just wasn't willing to give up. Not yet. She had to think about her future. All of their futures.

"Are you with me?" she asked the group.

They were.

It was time to see what they could find about Jack Ward.

Notes:

Like I said, we're back with regularly scheduled releases! I really enjoyed writing some of the scenes in this one. I'm still trying to give us some character interactions that we didn't get in the show, while still moving the plot at the same time.

Thank you everyone for reading! Hopefully I'll be back soon with the next installment. Until then, be well and look forward to it!

Chapter 17

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Jack Ward was finally feeling a bit better about his situation. Sitting down and talking to the Oh sisters had given him a much needed lift of spirits. He hadn't told them anything that they could use against him, but it was good for them to know just why he was so insistent on going after them.

Not just the sisters. Choi Do-il too. Because if he hadn't been there in the first place, they would have likely never been successful. At least not entirely.

It was true that his team was small. But he had everything he needed. There was a pair of CIA analysts working around the clock to trace what had happened to every single won that Do-il had hidden and then In-hye had split up. It wasn't easy—and it had taken over a year of work at this point—but little by little, all the pieces were starting to fall into place.

He knew what they had done, but he needed specifics. In-joo's operation of her aunt's business had complicated things, and Do-il hadn't made it easy either. But they couldn't run forever.

Soo-im had been a complication, but he had taken care of her. She had been spending time in his operational headquarters, essentially being little more than a prisoner. She had been more injured than he had expected from her encounter with Do-il and In-joo, but that served her right. She shouldn't have been in that position in the first place.

The operational location he was using was simple but effective. Tucked into a downtown street, it looked like one small building wedged between others. But it was more than that—he had bought both surrounding buildings as well. Or, well, bought was a bit of an overstatement. He had strong-armed his way into acquiring the location, there was no other way to put it.

It didn't matter. He needed it more than the previous owners had. And he had compensated them fairly.

But when he opened the door and stepped inside, he could tell that something was wrong. First of all, the lights were off. Or, no, they weren't off. They were flickering.

And when he looked at a row of computer monitors across from the entrance, a row that had been more or less perpetually turned on, he saw that they were now black. Two of them were cracked.

Ward locked the door behind him, very slowly. Someone had been here. Someone who had done something violent. And stupid.

But who would be foolish enough to cross him? Who would even want to cross him, aside from Ko Min-jun and the Oh sisters? Neither of them would have done something like this.

So he drew his gun and advanced into the operational room.

"I don't know who you are," he said loudly, so that if there was anyone still here, they would clearly hear him. "But that was a stupid decision. Do you have any idea who you're messing with?"

"Yes."

He spun, turning the corner quickly, his gun still raised. Soo-im was standing there with a vicious expression on her face. She was holding a gun as well. Perhaps most frightening of all was the fact that he recognized the gun. It was the sort of weapon that one of his team members would have been carrying.

"What did you do?" Ward growled, feeling his anger threatening to get the best of him. There was no way that she managed to incapacitate his entire team by herself. That just didn't make sense.

"Did you really think I was just going to sit here and let you do whatever you wanted while my revenge slipped away?"

"We had a deal."

"You had a deal. And you trusted me to uphold my end of it. I'm done serving other people. I was done the moment that the Jeongran society collapsed. You think I don't know what you were trying to do? I figured it out fast. I was angry, not stupid."

"You didn't do this by yourself," Ward said angrily, not flinching and not letting his aim falter. "You're good, but you're not that good."

"You're right," said Soo-im. "I didn't. Did you expect me to just be waiting around here, resting and biding my time for your next set of orders? For someone who has a job that requires them to not trust people, you're terribly trusting."

"What did you do?" Ward repeated, his voice little more than a growl.

"Jeongran was brought down. That's true. But do you have any idea how many people actually supported them? Not just the ones at the top. But the people like me. The people who were no one. I know you have no clue, because no one ever did. But all of them, every single one of them, believed in the dream that Jeongran was reaching for. And so many of them want the same thing I want. To make sure that the people who killed that dream suffer for what they dared to do."

"My agents were innocent," said Ward. "Where are they?" He understood what she had done. She had gotten as many supporters of Jeongran as she had been able to find—and he had no doubt that there were more than he would ever know. And she had organized them, all under the promise of getting revenge on the ones who had shattered the society. And she had probably done it while she had been waiting around, imprisoned in the operational house.

Soo-im laughed. "Innocent? Don't bother trying to play the victim. I know the kind of things you've done. They're alive, if that's what you're worried about. And they'll stay that way, so long as you don't get in my way."

Ward's face twisted into an expression of rage. "I'm not going to let you ruin everything that I've ever worked for."

"You're going to have to, if you want to keep those 'innocent' agents of yours alive."

Ward wanted to just pull the trigger. It would be easy. But it wouldn't be effective. She might still get off a shot. And even if she didn't, it would be condemning his team to their deaths. How had it gone wrong so quickly? This woman couldn't do this to him. He had been so close. To have it all snatched away from him…

"Go," he said. "Before I change my mind."

"Don't act like you're doing me a favor. You know what would happen if you pushed this."

"Go!" he shouted. "Now!" As much as he wanted to do the right thing, he didn't know if he was going to be able to resist putting a bullet in her head for much longer. "But just know that the next time I see you, things are going to go very differently."

Soo-im smirked as she made her way to the door. "It was good talking to you, Jack. Best of luck with your mission. You can pick up the pieces when I'm finished. If there's anything left."

She opened the door, then stepped outside, vanishing from sight, leaving Ward standing there, alone in the silence and the darkness, considering everything that had just occurred.

Considering what his next step would be. It didn't matter if he was all alone. He would see this through to the end. No matter what it took.

"I think I've found something."

In-kyung had been looking for days, reaching out to old reporting contacts, friends, and anyone who might be able to get her some of the information that she was looking for. It hadn't helped that she was struggling with even knowing what she needed to find.

But slowly, she had begun to piece leads together. Interpol wasn't able to help much—specifically, Min-jun wasn't able to help much. It wasn't an official Interpol investigation, which meant he couldn't provide them with any resources.

Jong-ho looked over her shoulder with an interested expression. She had a stack of documents that she had scanned and printed, alongside a computer screen that was full of more tabs than could easily be counted. "What?"

"It took me awhile, but I started to trace him. I found news articles around the end of the Vietnam war related to the CIA. Most of it was obviously classified, but a few things were made public information. None of that really mattered. What I needed was a name. I needed the name of his grandfather."

"Why? His grandfather is dead."

"Right, but it would give me a lead on his father, who might still be alive."

Jong-ho looked at her. "Why would knowing his father help?"

"It wouldn't. At least, not by itself. But that's not my end goal either." She turned to the stack of papers. "I think I did manage to find his father, but it wasn't anything drastic. Just his name, birth records, that kind of thing. But even that wasn't my goal."

Jong-ho sat down and leaned his chin on his hand, waiting patiently for her to get to the point.

"I found records of people. People that his grandfather worked with and people that his father worked with. Some of them were Korean. And some of them are still alive."

Jong-ho nodded thoughtfully. "I see. And you want to go talk to them?"

"At least that way, we'd have a better idea of what we're dealing with," she said. "And it might give us something we could use. I have no other leads right now. There might not be any other leads to find."

"Is it safe?" Jong-ho asked. "I don't like the idea of splitting everyone up again."

"Safe? Nothing is safe anymore. All of this feels like it shouldn't even be happening in the first place. Safe stopped existing the moment we stepped off that plane."

"More like the moment we stepped on it," Jong-ho murmured. "But if you think this is the best way, then I'm with you. You know that."

"Thank you," In-kyung said.

"For what?"

"For being with me. I know this is a lot to ask. But you've never hesitated."

Jong-ho smiled. "And I never will. Do you want anyone else to come with us?"

In-kyung considered it. She would certainly feel safer if Do-il went along, but then again, it wasn't likely that they would be putting themselves in danger by visiting these people. Most of them were old and retired, and wouldn't be looking for any trouble. The worst they would encounter would be elderly veterans who didn't want to talk to them.

Probably.

"I don't think so. I don't like the idea of leaving them all behind, but there isn't any reason for them to all come with us. And In-hye will be safer if she stays with Do-il."

"You're probably right." Jong-ho hesitated, like he wasn't sure if he wanted to say what else was on his mind.

"What is it?"

"Do you want to tell them at all? I don't mean keeping it a secret. I just mean... telling them in advance. Or would it be better for us to just go, and tell them after we leave?"

In-kyung had considered that. She didn't want to just disappear, but if she tried to tell In-joo and Do-il what she was thinking. She had a feeling they wouldn't want her going too far from them. They weren't wrong to think that, but at this point, they needed to know as much as they could.

"I think... we should probably just go. They won't be happy about it, but we can explain later. And once we learn something, they'll be thanking us."

"Okay," said Jong-ho. "I'll start packing. We need to leave before any of them come to see us."

In-kyung knew they didn't have too much time. Yes, In-joo and Do-il were busy people, but right now, their biggest priority was clearly making sure their loved ones were safe. She hated to lie to them, but they would understand. Even if they weren't happy at first.

It probably wasn't necessary to keep their departure a secret. But it could spare them valuable time, time that she didn't want to waste. The more time Ward had to act unopposed, the greater the chance of something terrible occurring.

And that was something she wanted to desperately prevent.

In-hye was still thinking of her conversation with Do-il as she painted. She had her own, moderately sized suite that she was now sharing with Hyo-rin. The two had turned it into something of a painting studio. Hyo-rin was sitting on the couch, watching In-hye work in silence. It had been that way for some time. Strangely, In-hye didn't mind. She could feel Hyo-rin's eyes on her, but there was something comforting about the quiet.

"What are you painting?" Hyo-rin asked.

"A landscape," In-hye said. "But I don't know what the landscape is. I don't think it's anything I've ever seen." Her easel and canvas were set up right in front of one of the large glass windows, letting her look out over the city. Even though she wasn't painting the cityscape, it was still a powerful view to have in front of her while she created her art.

"It's scary," Hyo-rin said, and she shivered a little.

In-hye paused to look at her friend. "I'm sorry. Is it bothering you?"

Hyo-rin stood up from the couch and walked to In-hye's side. "No, it isn't bothering me. It's okay. You don't have to apologize. But you paint so many things that are dark."

"I know. Sometimes I know why. Sometimes I can't remember the reason."

"Does it remind you of dying?"

Hyo-rin was talking about the false memory, the one that In-hye shouldn't have been able to recall at all, since it had never happened to her. Strangely, that might have truly been the answer.

"I think it reminds me of what happens after you die. I know it doesn't make sense, and I wish I could explain it better. But I think these paintings are the only ways I still know how to explain."

She knew that those sorts of things should have frightened her. But her ability to express them on the canvas seemed to take some of the fear away. If she could use it to create something, how frightening could it truly be?

"I don't remember what happens after you die," she said, lifting her brush and continuing her work. "Probably because it never happened to me. But I've seen this anyway. In my dreams, maybe. Or there's a part of me that looked past the memory. I'm not sure. I'm sorry, Hyo-rin. I'm not doing a good job of explaining this."

"That's okay. I think I understand anyway."

It was a testament to their friendship that In-hye really did believe those words. No one else could have ever even begun to understand. Even Do-il, who somehow seemed to get In-hye on a level that most adults did not, wouldn't be able to make sense of this. Hyo-rin, though, did.

The landscape itself was a strange mix of realism and the abstract. Here and there, one might be able to identify shapes as trees in the foreground, or mountains in the back. But the ground itself strayed between impossible colors and unlikely geometry, creating a strange shifting impression that carried the viewer's eye across the work.

She was trying to capture a specific emotion, one that she didn't have words for. She was happy that her gift rested in the visual arts. Expressing herself with words could be too difficult sometimes. And that was only made more true because of how young she was.

"I'm not afraid of dying," In-hye said as she painted, her eyes focused squarely on the piece in front of her. "I think I'm more afraid of being alone. Truly alone. What about you?"

"I don't think we need to be afraid of that," Hyo-rin said. "Because we have each other."

In-hye smiled. Hyo-rin could say things that were so simple, yet somehow profound. There was a kind of inherent truth to their conversations, one that she had struggled to replicate with other people.

"Then maybe we don't have to be afraid of anything."

"I'm afraid of not knowing," said Hyo-rin. "I think that's why the painting scares me. Because we don't know what comes next. We can only choose what happens while we're here. After that..." She paused and swallowed. "I don't want to go anywhere that you aren't. I don't care what comes next. I don't want to face it without you."

In-hye didn't look away from the canvas, but she felt a warmth in her chest. "You won't ever have to. Whatever happens, I'll wait for you."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

That was all that needed to be said. In the way that only children could, they both understood something simple and infallible about their relationship. It didn't matter how complicated the world got, or what kind of impossibilities they needed to face. Some things would never change.

In-hye didn't know if she would finish the painting. And if she did, she wasn't sure if it would remain the same as it was now. But that was okay. That was the nice thing about painting. If she didn't like the direction a work was going in, she could just keep adding more paint until she had managed to change it into something that she was happy with.

The world didn't work like that, no matter how much she wished it did. Sometimes it felt like her life was just something that happened to her, something that she didn't have any say in. It had been that way for quite some time. Her art let her take some of that control back. And having Hyo-rin by her side gave her a sense of steadiness and calm that she otherwise wouldn't have known how to find.

The landscape continued to take shape. She could almost see the end of it. Almost. Her imagination would have to fill in the rest.

Notes:

Crossing 50,000 words marks the successful completion of my National Novel Writing Month for the year, but it certainly does not mark the end of the story!

Some big changes happening in the narrative... I've been planning out further stretches of the story and I can't wait for you to see what's coming.

As always, thank you for reading. I love this world and these characters!

Chapter 18

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"They're gone," In-joo said numbly. "They just left without telling us." She wished that she was surprised, but it was the kind of thing that she would have expected In-kyung to do. Her first thought had been that something had happened to them, but it was clear that they had left of their own free will. There was no sign of a struggle. In fact, everything had been cleaned up and squared away nicely. When In-joo had asked the woman at the front desk, she had assured In-joo that the occupants of the room had made it clear that they were just going away for a few days.

"We'll hear from them soon," Do-il said confidently. He had been worried at first as well, but after it become obvious that the pair hadn't been taken, his fear had faded. "They didn't want us to go with them."

In-joo knew why they would have wanted that. She didn't even think they were wrong to want that. But she didn't like it anyway. Yes, it was probably better for In-joo and Do-il to remain in Korea with In-hye. But the thought of In-kyung going off on her own... it didn't sit well. Especially because the last time they had worked on their own, it had been disastrous.

In-joo sighed. "I know. I just don't like having to wait around for something to happen. That's not who I am."

Do-il's voice remained calm. "You have your own business to take care of. It might not be a bad thing to focus on your own life right now. None of us are currently in active danger, and Interpol doesn't have anything to add right now."

In-joo felt ashamed to realize what her response was. "I don't think I know how to take time like that. I spent the past year keeping myself busy so that I didn't have to think about anything."

"And that was my fault," Do-il said quietly.

"Not everything is your fault. I need to take some responsibility as well. We both could have handled things differently. We both made mistakes."

What she didn't say was that she was wondering if they were both currently still making mistakes. Despite all the progress they had made, there was still so much that was unsaid. There was still so much that she didn't know.

"I'd like to try and undo some of them," Do-il said.

She turned, looking away from the empty hotel suite, directing her full focus to Do-il. His words surprised her. "What do you mean?"

"Would you like to get dinner with me tonight?" he asked.

She thought she saw the hint of a smile on his face. "Are you... making fun of me?" she asked, her voice teasingly suspicious.

"No. Well, maybe. But I'm also asking if you would like to get dinner with me tonight. There's a lot that I think we should talk about."

In-joo wanted to tell him that they should just talk about it here, that he should just say whatever was on his mind. What was the point of waiting?

Now he was actually smiling. Or, no, it was more of the half-grin that he sometimes wore. "I know what you're thinking. You don't have to say it. We'll talk tonight, alright? Do you think you can stay out of trouble for a few more hours?"

In-joo's answer reminded her of another side of herself, one that she hadn't seen in a long time. A version of her that had disappeared when her life had nearly collapsed on herself.

"I'll do my best. But I can't promise anything. My schedule can get pretty full."

Do-il shook his head. "Well, I'll hope for the best." His smile vanished, and was replaced by an expression of gentle concern. "Try not to worry too much. You'll hear from them soon."

"I know. It's just that if anything happened to her..."

In-joo appreciated that Do-il didn't try to offer her any kind of meaningless consolation. He didn't make promises that he wouldn't be able to keep. He just listened to her words and accepted them.

A moment passed. "Yes," In-joo said finally.

"What?"

"I didn't actually say yes to your invitation. Just tell me where to go. I'll be there."

"Glad to hear it," said Do-il. "I think it's something we both need."

Once, hearing him say something like that would have been unthinkable. She had never imagined engaging in that sort of conversation with Choi Do-il. Yet life somehow always found a way to go in the most unexpected of directions.

As they left the hotel, she felt a sense of lightness to her. Even though In-kyung was gone, In-joo knew that Do-il was likely right. And there was the promise of that evening, which seemed to her like the fulfillment of something she hadn't even allowed herself to think about.

Finally. Some good news.

Do-il had been nervous. He wouldn't have admitted it to anyone, but it was the truth. It was a strange feeling to him, because it was one that he hadn't experienced in a very long time. Even when he had been contending with Jeongran, even when he had been in court with In-joo—even when he had been engaged in life and death combat situations, he still hadn't felt this kind of thing.

True nervousness.

And for what? That was the question he kept asking himself. What was it that had caused his stomach to flip like that when he had asked such a simple question? It was hardly the first time he had asked a woman to dinner.

But it was the first time that the answer meant so much to you.

He knew. He already knew, of course. People could accuse him of many things, but no one could ever say that he lacked self-awareness.

For Do-il, the rest of the day passed in a blur. The hours seemed to speed by too quickly, leaving him too little time to get everything done that he needed. That too was a strange feeling. He was the model of efficiency. He always, always managed to accomplish his tasks both with ease and with time to spare.

This was a new experience for him. And it wasn't one he liked.

Strangely, now that he was no longer attempting to acquire more money, his life had become littered with a whole new set of problems.

Those problems were weighing on his mind as he drove to the location he had given In-joo. He was barely paying attention to the road as he swerved in and around other cars, practically on autopilot.

His decision to ask In-joo to dinner had been a sudden one. It was an idea that had crossed his mind only a few times, but in the moment, it had just seemed like the right thing to do. He didn't regret it—yet—but he had to admit that there could be consequences in the future.

This is ridiculous. You're both adults. There's no reason why you can't do this.

Perhaps that was the only thing that mattered. He decided to focus on that rational line of thought. He was still thinking about it after he had parked and made his way into the small building that he had told In-joo to meet him at.

It was a place he had never been before, and it was somewhere that he knew would surprise her. Do-il was well aware of what she likely assumed. Somewhere extravagant, somewhere for the elite of the country. He didn't blame her for that assumption—it fit with the image that he had cultivated for himself.

And that had been an option. He had considered it. But it would have felt inauthentic. This—well, this just felt right.

The inside was small—but not the exclusive kind of small. It had a kind of simplicity to it. And there was something beautiful about that.

Do-il was seated first and waiting for about ten minutes when he saw In-joo coming down the small flight of stairs into the dimly lit dining room. At first, he couldn't quite make her out, given the level of lighting and the distance between them. But as she approached him, she began to come into focus.

And then he wasn't thinking of much at all.

In-joo had a certain quality about her, one that Do-il had never been able to put into words. Even now, looking at her, as she slid into the seat across from him, the glow of a candle casting dancing shadows on her face, he wasn't sure what to call it. All he knew was that in a crowd of strangers, no matter where he was or what he was doing, he would always be able to pick her out first. It had been true the first time he had seen her. It was still true now.

At the time, he hadn't known what that had meant. Now, he still didn't know for sure, but he was starting to have an idea.

Maybe there had been some truth to what Jong-ho had told him.

He regarded her silently, taken aback by... what, exactly? Was it her appearance? Maybe that was part of it. But it was more than purely physical. There was something else to her as well, something about the way she looked at the world. Something he couldn't name. Something about just being with her that brought him a sense of peace that he had always been looking for, maybe without even knowing it.

"You look beautiful," he said. He stated it like a simple fact, because it was. There was no exaggeration in his words, no overstatement. That had never been his way.

And she did look beautiful. She was wearing a dress that was simple, reserved, and yet somehow the perfect choice for her.

In-joo's face went slightly pink. "I... thank you. You don't need to say that."

"I know. But I wanted to."

She looked... uncomfortable. Like she wasn't sure what she was doing here. Do-il supposed that the only person he had to blame for that was himself.

"Can I ask you something?" she said as the server poured them water and took Do-il's drink order.

"Anything," he said, leaning back. "You know that now."

In-joo paused, gathered her thoughts and then spoke. Her voice was quiet, and she sounded unsure of herself, like she didn't really want to hear the answer to her question. "Why did you ask me to come here? Why now? I'm... I'm not complaining. I just don't think I understand. I know things between us have been complicated. But I just want to know. What changed?"

Do-il had been expecting her to ask something like that. But despite the fact that he wasn't surprised by it, he still didn't have an answer prepared. At least not one that felt satisfactory. So when he started speaking, he did it slowly, formulating each thought to the best of his abilities before it left his mouth.

"You're right. Things have been complicated. And it seems like the more time passed, the more complicated they got. I think you know that there's a lot of things that I'm good at. And that sometimes hides the fact that there's just as much, if not more, that I'm terrible at. And every day that I was away in Greece, I was reminded of that fact when I looked at the pile of letters that I wrote to you. The pile that I never sent."

Speaking these words felt strange to him. It was like he was having a look inside his own mind, at the dark corners he hadn't been willing to shine a light on before.

"I wish I could give you an easy answer. But it seems like nothing is easy for us anymore, is it? The best I can tell you is this: I asked you here tonight because I wanted to spend my evening with you. For me, that's enough."

And it was true. Was there more to be said? Probably. But his heart was tangled in knots that he wasn't sure he would ever be able to undo. He was trying, but that was a process that wouldn't—that couldn't—end quickly. He needed time. And he needed patience.

Fortunately, In-joo seemed more than willing to provide him with both of those things.

She didn't say anything at first, and he was momentarily worried that he had said too much. But then she nodded. "I think I know what you mean. I feel the same way. I keep thinking that there's something else I need to work out, and I keep feeling like I'm running out of time to do it."

"I'm not going anywhere," said Do-il. "Not this time."

"That's a strange thing to hear," she said, smiling faintly. "I'm so used to feeling like everyone is slipping away from me. Maybe I tried to hold on too tight."

"Maybe I didn't try to hold on at all," said Do-il.

"You were doing what you thought was right."

"Intentions matter less than results. I created a much larger issue than I would have if I had just stayed here."

"You're too difficult on yourself," In-joo said. "It's impossible to be correct all the time."

Do-il considered that as he accepted his drink from the server, who had just returned. "Maybe. But the standards I have for myself exist because I know what I'm capable of."

"Maybe that means you're too hard on yourself... and too confident."

Do-il raised his glass and tapped it against hers. "Something to work on then, maybe."

"There are things that we both could have done better," said In-joo. "We each had things to learn. We still do."

Do-il took reassurance from her words. Once again, she seemed to understand things about him, even without him trying to explain. It had taken a long time. But it felt like they were on the right path now. Where that path might lead, he couldn't say. He just knew that it was a discovery he was willing to wait to make, especially if she was with him when he did.

In-joo didn't want to admit it, but she knew it was the truth.

"I don't know if you should be driving right now," Do-il said. He sounded more than a little amused, which irritated her. Well, she wasn't actually irritated. But why did she have to be the one who was affected by the alcohol? Why couldn't it have been him instead?

"Maybe you shouldn't be driving either," she said. "You drank just as much as I did."

Do-il opened his mouth to respond, but said nothing. He closed it, thought, and then frowned. "Well. Maybe you're right."

In-joo blinked. "Wait, what? Really? I can't tell at all."

"Is that so surprising?" he asked.

"No," she grumbled. "I guess not. Do you want to call a ride?"

"I can do a little better than that," he said. "I'll call a driver."

In-joo watched as he pulled out his phone, sent a message, then slid it back into his pocket.

"I'm glad you asked me," In-joo said suddenly.

He looked up at her, his expression blank, but she thought she saw a hint of surprise. "I hope you enjoyed it."

"I needed a night like tonight," she said. "I didn't realize it. But I did."

"My driver will be here soon," he said. "Do you want to step outside and wait for him?"

She was a little taken aback by the suddenness of the question and the fact that he hadn't responded to her, but she knew that was how he was. As she followed him out, she realized that now, more than ever, she was able to understand him. It seemed like there were few people in his life who were able to do that.

The night air was cold, but he had been right. His driver was there only moments after they emerged from the building, and the black, nondescript car that awaited them was warm on the inside. He opened the door for her, allowed her to get in, then joined her on the other side.

"Where would you like to go, sir?" the driver asked.

In-joo glanced at Do-il. Then she realized that she didn't need to wait for him to make a decision.

"My apartment," she said, giving the address. And she didn't mean a penthouse or an executive suite. She meant the place that her aunt had gifted to her. Despite her success, despite the fact that she could live anywhere she wanted, she had always kept it. Because it was a reminder of her life that had come before. Of the dreams she used to have.

It was a reminder of how much her world had changed.

Do-il looked at her in surprise, but he said nothing to contradict her. The driver shot a look at Do-il for confirmation, and he simply nodded. The car began to move.

In-joo reached out her hand and took Do-il's. Their evening had been quiet. Peaceful. There had been no earth-shattering revelations or perception-altering conversations. And that had been what had made it special.

"Thank you," In-joo said, her voice barely above a whisper.

"For what?"

"For tonight. It's been a long time since I've had a night like it. It was a good reminder of why we're doing all this."

Do-il seemed to understand what he meant. He didn't pull his hand away from hers. Instead, he closed his fingers around hers, entwining the two of them.

"I want more nights like tonight," he said. "If that's something that you want too."

Her eyes met his. He was looking at her with such certainty, such conviction, and his usual sense of absolute, utter calm. She already knew her response to his words.

As the car glided through the neon-lit nighttime streets of the city, she didn't take her gaze away from the man beside her. And as they got closer to their destination, she knew that she was exactly where she needed to be.

Finally.

Notes:

This chapter brought me a lot of joy to write. I hope it has the same effect on you as you read it!

I had a lot of plot breakthroughs in my mind over the past few days as I thought about where I want the story to go. It's very satisfying to see the pieces beginning to fit together.

Your comments are lovely and so appreciated. You make me smile, sometimes you make me laugh, but you always make me proud to be part of this community. I'm glad to have assembled a little corner on the internet where we can keep our love for this story going.

Until next time, get some sleep, eat good meals, and remember to drink water! I'll see you all soon!

Chapter 19

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In-joo made her way back to her apartment, but this time, it was beside Do-il. There was something cathartic about coming here with him. Somehow, it felt like the fulfillment of an impossible dream. And maybe it was just the drinks talking, but there was a confidence to her that she wasn't used to. The same quality that Do-il had that she admired so much was the one that she currently felt growing inside of her.

Certainty.

There was a kind of power to knowing. Not just knowing what you wanted to do, but knowing who you were. That had been one of Do-il's greatest strengths. There was a lot that he had learned from her. She realized that. But she had also been able to do the same from him.

"So this is where you went," he said in a hushed voice as she unlocked the door and stepped inside. "When you were alone."

"It was where I started over," she said. "Someone once told me that as long as they had a place like this, they could always start over, even from nothing."

When she had received the apartment, it had been empty. And something about that had made her feel empty, as if despite the fact that she had won the battle against Jeongran, she had lost something more significant.

Now, she was realizing what that was.

The apartment was no longer empty. She had turned it into a home for herself. Despite its prime location and the fact that it cost more money than she would have previously ever been able to imagine making, she had furnished it in a way that made her happy. A way that reminded her of her younger years. The inside was simple, lacking the extravagance that someone might come to expect from her position. But that was okay. That hadn't been what she needed. And it wasn't why she kept this place, even though by now, she had enough money to live anywhere she wanted.

She closed the door behind Do-il. He stood in the entrance to the apartment, looking around in the darkness and the gloom. "I tried to imagine what you had been doing," he said. "I never quite came up with anything that felt right. I guess now I know. I'm sorry I wasn't here. I should have been. There was never any reason for you to be alone."

In-joo took a step closer to him. She was suddenly very aware of the fact that there was little, if any, space between them. "Do-il, I..."

What was there left to say though? Neither of them had ever been people of many words. Anything that she had needed to say had already been said, hadn't it? Maybe it was better to not talk so much, maybe it was better to just dispense with the conversation, for her to show him how she felt, because she knew, didn't she? Standing there, so close to him that she could practically hear his heartbeat, she knew exactly how she felt. All she needed to do was...

"I'd congratulate the two of you, but you'll have to excuse me if I have some bigger worries right now."

In-joo jumped back from Do-il, her head whipping toward the direction that the voice came from. It was toward the back of the apartment, near the windows, but in a shadowy corner where she had placed a comfortable armchair.

And of course, she recognized the voice immediately.

Jack Ward was sitting in her personal apartment. He had been waiting for them.

Do-il sprung into action without a second of hesitation, smoothly stepping in front of In-joo and lifting his arm to make sure that she didn't try to reclaim his position.

"You have ten seconds to explain what you're doing here," said Do-il. "And if I don't like the answer, this is the last conversation you're ever going to have. With anyone."

Ward stood up from the chair. In-joo still couldn't see him clearly, but it looked almost like he needed to stagger to his feet just to stand.

"Fine. I'll keep it short."

Do-il said nothing, but In-joo could both see and feel his muscles tense.

"I want to work with you."

Do-il didn't say anything, but his body language shifted. No one else would have noticed it, but In-joo could tell. It wasn't the posture of anger—it was pure, unadulterated shock.

In-joo almost choked. "You can't be serious."

"I am." Ward stepped into the moonlight coming through the window and In-joo wasn't able to contain her surprise at the sight of him.

Simply put, he looked like he had been through a war. He was bruised, bloodied, and clearly beaten. His normally well-tailored clothing was in tatters, and he seemed to be struggling to remain upright.

"Why are you here?" Do-il asked. "How did you know we were coming here?"

"I didn't," Ward said, limping forward. "I planned on just waiting here until you did arrive. No one would think to look for me here, and it would have given me enough time to get myself in a little better shape. But that didn't happen."

"No," said Do-il. "It didn't. And you're just about out of time. Tell me what you want."

"I just did," said Ward. "Because we both have the same enemy right now."

In-joo stepped to the side just a little, allowing herself to see Ward slightly better. "That doesn't make sense. You're fighting yourself now?"

"Despite what you might think, I don't want you dead. I want all the money that you took from Jeongran. Soo-im, on the other hand... she wants you dead."

"You're working with her," said Do-il flatly. "Not good enough." He took a threatening step forward.

Ward didn't move to defend himself. "I understand. If you try to kill me now, there won't be anything I can do about it. But if you try to kill me, you're going to lose your best chance to survive what's coming for you."

Do-il didn't look like he cared, and for a second, In-joo thought he was actually going to kill Ward. "Nothing you're saying is making sense. You have one more chance to clarify things, and then my patience is going to be gone."

"Soo-im turned on me. She wants you dead. She's recruited the remains of Jeongran and used them to overthrow my operation. You're lucky she hasn't come after you yet. I went up against her by myself, and... this is what happened."

"By yourself?" In-joo didn't understand. "Why would you do that?"

"Because she took my team hostage to ensure I didn't interfere. She could be coming for you right now."

Do-il still didn't seem impressed. "If you're trying to get us to panic, it's not going to work. Jeongran is gone. We made sure of it, you know that better than anyone."

But despite Do-il's words, In-joo thought she could see where this was starting to go, and she didn't like the sound of it. Yes, Jeongran had been destroyed. But the part of Jeongran that they had fought had been the highest level. It was what had allowed them to so thoroughly end the organization. Or at least, they had cut off the head of the organization. There were many, many others who had comprised the lower levels. Many others who were likely furious about the destruction of their promised future.

"She could be on her way here right now. If I was able to find you, she'll be able to do it too."

"I'm not worried about her," said Do-il.

In-joo reached and gently placed her hand on his arm. "He's right. We need to go. We need to be somewhere safer than this."

"I'm not working with him," Do-il said. "Soo-im can kill him if she wants to. We can't trust him."

In-joo was surprised to hear the level of venom in Do-il's voice. Someone else might not have recognized it, but she could tell how angry he was. It wasn't like him to be this way—he was always so in control. So what had caused...?

"Do-il. We don't need to trust him. But he has no reason to lie to us about this. And right now, if I needed to, I think I could probably win a fight against him. If there's even a chance that we might be able to learn something from him, isn't that a chance we should take?"

Do-il was silent, his gaze directed squarely at Ward. In-joo wondered what was going through each man's mind. Was Ward frightened? Or did he truly not care? And Do-il... what questions was he asking himself?

"Fine," said Do-il. "You're coming with us. But we're going somewhere public, where you can't do anything, and Soo-im can't act against us."

"That's fine," Ward said mildly, before coughing. "I'll suggest Ms. Oh's personal office. Even what's left of Jeongran can't publicly storm an office building."

Do-il glanced at In-joo, no doubt looking for her input. She nodded without saying anything. It wasn't a fortress, but it would be good enough for what they needed.

"You're coming with us," said Do-il. "Not following us. Not tailing us. You don't leave our sight. If you do anything out of line, we'll leave you to deal with Jeongran by yourself."

Ward nodded. "There's no reason to not trust me. We both want the same thing."

"I don't see how that could possibly be true," said In-joo.

Ward grinned, but his battered face made it look more like a grimace of pain. "You want to stay alive. And I need to keep you alive. Soo-im isn't interested in either of those goals."

"I'm not convinced we need you," said Do-il. "And I'm not convinced this isn't going to end with a knife in my back." He looked at In-joo.

She knew that he didn't like it—but she also knew that he was choosing to place his trust in her. That meant more to her than he likely understood. She found that funny about Do-il. He took his own actions for granted, and rarely seemed to acknowledge the positive effect that he could have on others' lives.

"Lead the way, then," said Ward. "Trust me, if she is on her way, we don't want to be here when she arrives."

The car ride to the office passed in uncomfortable silence. Do-il didn't say a word until they were inside In-joo's office, the door locked securely behind them. It was probably overkill, but he jammed a chair under the door handle as well. No one would be opening it until they wanted it open.

He didn't think Ward was lying. First of all, there was no way that the man had faked being beaten that badly. And secondly, the story he told made sense. And it showed a glaring blind spot in Do-il's awareness of the situation.

Of course there had been other members of Jeongran. The ones who hadn't been the bankrollers, the ones who had made sure that the day to day operations stayed on task and successful. The ones who he had hardly ever interacted with. The ones he had never thought about.

There were probably countless people who had been swindled with the dream that Jeongran had presented. And more than a few of them were likely angry enough to get violent about it. Soo-im could offer them revenge. Which meant that this had now turned into a war on multiple fronts.

And one of the fronts of that war was sitting down with them—heavily injured and bleeding, yes, but still there with them.

In-joo seemed to be handling the situation better than he was. Part of him wasn't surprised by this—she had always been strong, and her ability to handle her emotions had always been stronger than his. This was an exponentially different situation, however. He feared that they had made a mistake.

"I could use a drink," Ward said as he attempted to reorder his damaged and disheveled clothing.

"I'm sure," said Do-il. "But neither of us is very interested in what you could use right now.

"Of course," said Ward. "You'll be wanting to know more specifically what's happened then?"

"I already know," said Do-il. "Soo-im betrayed you—which I admittedly didn't think she had the guts to do—and you found out that you're no longer the most dangerous player in the game. Now you're afraid that everything you had is about to disappear. So you came crawling to us. For help."

Ward just stared at Do-il for a second before brushing a bit of dirt off his shirt. "You missed the part where Soo-im and her people nearly killed me after I attempted to get my team back from her custody, but yes. That's about it."

In-joo looked up. She had been facing away from them, her hands planted firmly on her desk, staring out the window behind where she usually sat. "She has to know this can't last forever. It doesn't matter how many people she has in her pocket, she can't just kidnap and kill whoever she wants."

Ward agreed. "That's the thing. She doesn't have an endgame in mind other than revenge. Her plans end with you dead. Mine ends with you alive."

Do-il's voice was dark. "You're in no position to negotiate right now."

"Actually, I think you have that wrong. I'm the least of your worries right now."

In-joo turned fully. "No. He's right. You don't have much to offer us. Even if we had to face her alone, we could handle it."

"And then you'd still have to deal with me," said Ward. "So I'm here to make a deal."

"What is it?" In-joo asked. "And remember, we don't need you. I can't trust someone who kills as easily as you do."

"I'll work with you to stop her. And then, when I'm done, I won't take my mission against you any further, so long as you cooperate with returning the money publicly to America."

"No deal," said Do-il. "That money isn't yours. And how are we supposed to know you'll uphold your end of the bargain?"

"Because it's easier for me to work with you than to chase after you. Think about it. You know what will happen if we go at this separately. Can you afford to fight me and her at the same time?"

"I'm willing to find out," said Do-il. "You're lucky we even brought you here."

"CIA resources and a life of peace," said Ward. "Fine, how's this? I'll make sure that there are no more investigations into you when we're done. You'll be several magnitudes less rich, but I think you'll manage. There will be no seizure of assets. Just a public show of justice finally being done."

Do-il was about to once again tell the man the answer was no, but In-joo spoke before he did.

"You can guarantee we won't be prosecuted?"

Ward nodded. "Yes. Since you'll be cooperating with an agency mission, Korea won't be able to charge you again."

In-joo turned to Do-il. "We need to talk about this."

He opened his mouth to tell her no, there was nothing to talk about, but she grabbed his arm and led him to a small room off to the side of the office. She opened the door, pulled him in, and closed it behind them. Once they were in the room, he could immediately tell what it was for. It looked like another office—albeit much smaller and more comfortable. This was where she went when she needed to get away from the world for a little.

In this case, when she needed to get away from the violent madman in her place of business.

"In-joo, I know you want to believe the best in people," he said. "But we don't even know where your sister went yet. And there's no way to make sure he keeps his word. We have no idea what will happen when this finishes and—"

"I don't trust him either. I'm not that naive. Not anymore. But he's right. I'd rather not have to be working against two sides at once."

"I'm not going to let him take what's ours," said Do-il. "He doesn't have any claim—"

"Neither am I. I didn't say we have to give him what we want. We work with him, and then in the end, we find a way out."

"A way out? You can't know that we'll be able to do that."

In-joo stared at him, and then slowly, her face began to break into a smile. "Yes I can. Because there's always a way, remember?"

Do-il felt his arguments drain away. He heard himself in her words—but not really himself. A better side of himself, one that he was only beginning to strive for.

"You're right," she said. "We don't know. But I trust us. I trust you. And I believe that this is the best way forward for us."

"Work with him and then betray him," said Do-il. "He'll be expecting it."

"Then we'll have to do something he can't see coming," said In-joo.

Do-il considered her words, even though he already knew his decision. How had it come to this? Once, he would have never let anyone change his mind. Because in situations like this, he was the one who knew best. Except... that wasn't true, was it? Maybe in the past, he had just been unwilling to consider any other options.

"Alright. But if he's out of line for a second, or if I think he's putting you in danger..."

In-joo nodded. "If he's putting any of us in danger. Do what you need to do."

Do-il still wasn't happy about it. The idea of working with the agent rested uncomfortably on his shoulders. But he saw the benefit. And he trusted In-joo. "We defeated Jeongran once," he said. "We can do it again."

This time would be different, but that was okay. Like In-joo had said, there was always another way.

Notes:

More twists in the plot... what happens when they have to work with their enemy?

Also, how DARE he interrupt them like that?

I hope you're all enjoying your time reading! This regular updating schedule is going to be continuing at full-steam, so look forward to a new chapter soon. I'm pleased with my writing progress, and I hope you're all enjoying the story so far. (Even if our heroes just can't seem to catch a break).

What are In-kyung and Jong-ho doing...? Well, I guess you'll have to come back next time to find out! See you all very soon!

Chapter 20

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"You're doing what?"

In-kyung couldn't believe what she was hearing. It was unbelievably foolish. It was a new level of naive, even for her sister. Working with that madman? How could she even consider such a thing? There was only one way that would end. In-joo had to know that.

"I know," said In-joo. "Do-il said the same thing. But Ward was right. It'll be easier to fight only one battle at a time. We can worry about Ward once Soo-im is out of the way."

"It's not just Soo-im," said In-kyung. "We have no idea how many people she managed to recruit, but it was enough to overwhelm Ward's team."

"In-kyung... you have to trust me. Just like I'm trusting you."

In-kyung couldn't argue with that. She had been the one to leave without saying anything, which admittedly had been a risky decision on its own. But In-joo had taken that in stride, even after In-kyung had explained both what they were doing and where they were going.

"I do trust you. I just... don't want you to get hurt."

"I don't want any of us to get hurt. So next time you decide to go somewhere, tell me first, alright? I promise we can talk about it."

In-kyung smiled. "Stay safe, alright? And take care of In-hye. As soon as I hear something, I'll let you know. Anything could help."

"Thank you. Tell Jong-ho I said hello and that he better make sure you actually eat."

"I'll let him know. I'll talk to you soon, In-joo."

She felt moderately better after the conversation was over, but she was far from happy about it. Jong-ho didn't seem pleased either, but as always, he managed to keep any extensive negative reactions under wraps.

She sighed. "God, I want a drink." It was an impulse she had been battling the entire time Ward had been pursuing them. She knew it was an impulse that she was going to be battling for the rest of her life. The thought exhausted her, but it was something she needed to come to terms with. She wasn't willing to give in to her impulses. It would have represented a kind of defeat that she wasn't sure she could come back from. Her alcoholism was a constant reminder of a part of her life that she had long since moved past.

Jong-ho acknowledged her statement with a nod. "I know."

That was all he said. There was something comforting about the way he responded to her, even when she was in distress. He didn't offer advice unless she asked for it. He just listened.

"I can't believe they agreed to work with him," she muttered. "After we decided to go and investigate his past."

"Well, we didn't tell them what we were doing," Jong-ho said. "We can't really blame them for acting without us."

She knew he was right. And technically, it probably didn't matter. If they managed to survive whatever Soo-im had planned, In-kyung had no doubt that Ward would turn on them in the end anyway. It was a sad reality that there was nearly no one that she could trust anymore, unless they were in her small circle of friends and family.

But right now, there wasn't time to be thinking about herself. She had a goal to accomplish, and she wasn't going to let her self-doubt get in the way.

It wasn't a healthy coping strategy. She knew that all too well. But for her entire life, when things had gotten difficult, she had pushed through it by throwing herself headlong into whatever project she was currently working on.

Once again, that was how she planned on handling things.

The journey to the small town that their first interviewee lived in had been uneventful. They had driven there without alerting anyone, only telling In-hye and Hyo-rin so they knew not to worry. In-kyung doubted that anyone was following them, as it seemed like Ward was busy with his own issues. As far as she could tell, they were in the clear.

It was one of her biggest strengths—she was able to see connections between people that others could easily miss. Ward had likely never considered that someone would go looking into his family's past, because there was no obvious tactical advantage to be gained from it. But sometimes, things weren't that simple. Sometimes, it was the people that held the answers. She was looking forward to speaking with whoever she could find.

At this point, Vietnam war veterans were going to be older. She expected that, and had already seen the reality of it given her initial investigation into Jeongran. She hoped that the people they would be talking to were cooperative. Even if they didn't want to share that much, anything was helpful. Anything at all.

It didn't take them long to find the house they were looking for. The streets and alleys were mostly empty, and the few people they did see mostly ignored the two of them as they walked. Their destination was small, but well-kept. In-kyung doubted that the man she was searching for lived here alone. She didn't think that he'd be able to take care of the entire property by himself without having some kind of help.

The size of the property also said something. It was another reminder that men and women who had served in the Vietnam war had, in many cases, not received proper compensation for what they had done. And, in almost nearly as many cases, had just been tossed aside after the conflict was over.

And that's what caused Jeongran to exist in the first place.

In-kyung stepped to the front door and knocked three times. It seemed like whoever lived there was home—there was a vehicle in front of the house, but aside from that, everything was quiet.

At first, no one responded. She moved forward to knock again, but the door opened, revealing a young woman with wide eyes. "Can I help you?"

In-kyung was a little taken aback, but she realized that the appearance of the woman could have possibly confirmed her assumption about the living status of Nam Woo-jin.

"I'm looking for Nam Woo-jin," In-kyung said. "Is he home?"

The young woman looked at In-kyung and then Jong-ho with suspicion. "No reporters. He doesn't want to talk to anyone. He's always been... very clear about that."

In-kyung glanced and Jong-ho and then smiled. "No, not a reporter. Not anymore. Just... someone who wants to talk."

The woman seemed to consider what In-kyung was saying, and then turned away. "Wait here just a moment." She shut the door in their faces, leaving In-kyung and Jong-ho standing there by themselves.

Jong-ho peered at the house. "That was interesting."

In-kyung wasn't concerned. "I expected this. Put yourself in his position. The entire operation was a disaster. When it ended, he was probably hounded by the press for weeks. Maybe even months. Of course he doesn't want to talk to us."

"Will he want to?"

Nam Woo-jin was their best bet. As far as In-kyung could tell, the man had been a close associate of Jack Ward's grandfather. Not only that, but if the records she had seen were correct, the man had worked with Ward's father as well. The association was tenuous at best, but it was too potentially beneficial to not investigate.

The door opened abruptly and the young woman reappeared. "He said he'd see you," she said in a doubtful voice. "But don't do anything to upset him, please."

"Don't worry," said In-kyung. "We really just want to talk to him."

The inside of the house was impeccable. It looked like it had been dusted only minutes before they had arrived. The floor was spotless, every picture frame was perfectly aligned. It barely seemed like anyone lived there.

The woman led them through the home to a kitchen area, which had a small foyer attached to it that led out to a perfectly manicured, though compact, yard. A man with thin, gray hair was sitting in a wheelchair, staring out at the grass.

"Nam Woo-jin? We were hoping to be able to talk to you."

The man barely even turned his head, instead electing to simply raise a hand and wave them forward.

In-kyung glanced at Jong-ho, who just shrugged and stepped up, taking one of the dining room chairs with him as he did so. In-kyung followed behind him.

Woo-jin waited until they were both seated on either side of him before he spoke. "It's been a long time since anyone has come to talk to me," he said. "I was starting to think that the world had forgotten."

"They did," said In-kyung. "But we need your help."

Woo-jin sighed. His face was lined with years. He looked tired, the kind of tired that rested on a person's face after they had spent a life living in fear. "I don't think I'm in a position to help anyone else. It might have been better if you hadn't come here."

The nurse stepped forward and opened her mouth to speak. In-kyung feared she was going to send the two of them away, but Woo-jin stopped her. "No, it's fine, I can talk for a little. I suppose I can still do that much." He looked at In-kyung. She wondered what sort of things he had seen that had forced him into this quiet, lonely house. What sort of things had he done?

"Do you remember working alongside a Thomas Ward?" In-kyung asked. "Back in the war. He would have been with the CIA—"

"Oh, I remember. I remember him very well. I remember what happened afterward, too. It's been one of the only things on my mind for my entire life. Isn't it funny? Something happens when you are young, something that makes you feel like you have no choices left to you. And then you realize when you're older that there were always choices, you just weren't willing to pick them."

"So what happened?" In-kyung asked softly.

"He wasn't a bad man. He was just a man caught between his country and his soul. I don't know how the agency handled things back then. I don't know how they handle things now. But I do know that he felt like he didn't have a choice. And in the end, he chose to sacrifice the Korean unit."

"For money?"

"No. He never would have seen a single won. Neither would I, for that matter. The US paid the Korean government to abandon the unit. That way, they would never be able to talk about what they did. It didn't matter. They survived, and they never talked about it anyway. But you must know all of this already. Why are you really here?"

In-kyung, at the moment, wasn't sure of the answer to that question. But she pressed on anyway. "Because right now, his grandson is with the agency. And he's coming after us."

Woo-jin looked first at In-kyung and then at Jong-ho with confusion. "Who are you?"

"We're the ones who took down Jeongran," said In-kyung. "We had never meant to, but things got... out of control. And that was the problem. Jack Ward wanted to be the one to do it. Because then, he would have been able to make good on the mistakes his family made. He's obsessed."

Woo-jin sighed. "He wants the money, doesn't he?"

In-kyung nodded.

"Just like his father. Or, maybe not just like his father. His father was a sad, angry man who wanted so much but had never been willing to act on it. After Thomas killed himself... things were never the same." He looked like he was reliving a memory from a long ago moment. In-kyung wondered just how much the man had seen in his lifetime.

"What can you tell me about his family?"

"Thomas never saw his family much. He was so wrapped up in his work that the years seemed to just slide by without him noticing. He told me that eventually. He really did come to trust me over the years. You spend that much time working with a man, and you get to know him. Especially when you're forced to do the kind of things that we did."

In-kyung could easily hear the man's regrets in his words. She knew that what the CIA and the Korean government had done was despicable. But she had never considered the consequences that it could have on the people who were forced to implement the decision.

Woo-jin continued speaking. "I thought they would kill me. Loose-ends were not allowed, after all. But I must have proven myself loyal. Or at least proven myself to be someone that didn't care to talk about the past. Until now, I guess. But what difference does it make now?"

"His father," Jong-ho said, finally speaking. "Is he still alive?"

Woo-jin directed his gaze to Jong-ho. "Yes. As far as I'm aware. But I haven't kept tabs on that family in a long time. I haven't done anything in a long time."

"This is your chance to make up for the past then," said In-kyung.

Woo-jin nodded, but once again, he seemed to be looking at someone else. Someone from a long time ago. "I'm not surprised that this is what Jack turned into. That sort of trauma in a family can... have consequences. I know what you're thinking—that you've had it much worse. No, you don't need to explain. I can see it on your face. And you're probably right. But Jack grew up with a father who was drowning in the legacy of his own father. And when Thomas killed himself, the repercussions throughout that whole family were... drastic. I reached out to them a few times. But it didn't matter. They were never the again."

"That can't excuse the things Ward has done," In-kyung said in a quiet voice. "It can't. It just... can't. I grew up with nothing. A family that was stitched together only by the strength of my sisters and I. A mother that stole from us and left us—not because she was a bad person, but because she just couldn't handle it anymore. But I never—not even for a second—considered the kind of things that he's done."

"That's because you understood the consequences of power. He grew up around power. His family always had it, even after the botched operation. Even after Thomas had been shamed and shunned by the agency. That never went away."

In-kyung's shoulders felt heavy. It all felt... too big. It was larger than her or her family. It was larger than their generation. It was a problem caused by decisions that had been made before she was even born. And now here she was, suffering the consequences of things that she had never taken part in. How was that fair?

The answer was obvious. It wasn't fair. It never had been. That had never been the point.

"What do I do?" she asked.

Woo-jin shook his head. "Is there anything you can do? You need to remind him where he came from. You need to show him that the world isn't the same as it used to be. Things change. And some events are better off being left in the past."

"I don't know if he'll believe any of that. It's his life's work."

"Then there isn't much you can do," said Woo-jin. He paused and seemed to remember something. "Go upstairs. In the second bedroom, off to the side, there's a set of drawers. If you go in the top drawer you'll find... well, it won't be much. But it might be something. Take it with you. It might help you."

In-kyung smiled at the old man. "Thank you for talking to us."

"It isn't much," he said. "It seems to be the only thing left for me to do now."

The nurse seemed eager for the two of them to leave. In-kyung didn't argue. Instead, she made her way up the stairs and into the room that Woo-jin had mentioned. It, like the rest of the house, was perfectly cleaned, every object in its proper place. She opened the drawer to find a folder and a small box. She withdrew both of them without opening them, and then came back down the stairs to rejoin Jong-ho, who was waiting by the door.

"Did you find everything you wanted?" he asked In-kyung.

She wished that she could say that she had. But truthfully, she didn't know. What they were facing felt larger than ever, now that she had been given more context for it. How did she fight the accumulated anger and pain of three generations? It would be everything she could do just to survive it.

As they left the house and returned to their vehicle, Jong-ho spoke quietly. "The only thing he cares about is himself. No matter how much power he is, no matter how confident and prepared he is, he'll never have what we have."

"He has nothing to lose," In-kyung said hollowly. "That only makes him more dangerous."

"Does it? Imagine how dangerous he would be if he was fighting for someone he loved," said Jong-ho. "Love can make a person do crazy things."

"Even pick up a sword," said In-kyung with a grin. "I've seen it firsthand."

"I thought we agreed to never talk about that," Jong-ho grumbled.

But he had given her something else to consider. One more thing to weigh on her mind. Did any of it matter, when the reality of their situation was seemingly unending danger? Or would their love be a strength?

In her experience, the world didn't care what you felt. It cared what you did.

She didn't say that to Jong-ho, though. She couldn't stand the thought of breaking his heart. Even if it was just something as simple as that—she couldn't do it.

Notes:

A very important chapter.

I'm laying a lot of groundwork for the back half of the story now. I'm not sure what percentage of the way through we are, but I would estimate around halfway. I'm discussing the ending of the story with friends of mine now, so I can work out the best possible ending before I get there. I have a lot of ideas, and now I am narrowing them down, one by one.

For the final few chapters (whenever I eventually get there, it won't be for a while), I believe I will post them back to back, without comment. They will likely need to be read back to back for the full effect.

As always, thank you for sticking around. The views on this story just continue to increase at a rate that I never expected. I'll see you all very soon!

Chapter 21

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Min-jun was not pleased, but he no longer had any real say in what they were doing. In-joo had worked hard to convince him that working with Ward was a necessary evil, but her words didn't seem to have much of an effect. He just didn't seem to understand why she would choose to do something so foolhardy. Even after Do-il had agreed with her.

To Ward's credit, he had said little to them. They hadn't quite all gone into hiding, but they had made sure to stay out of public as much as possible, and to keep themselves as far from Soo-im's reach as they could get. Ward definitely understood that he wasn't wanted there, and he didn't go out of his way to needle them or otherwise cause complications.

In-joo couldn't help but continually think about how lonely the man's life must have been. She knew it didn't excuse his actions, but she could imagine how easy it might be to lose yourself in a life of hatred if you didn't have anyone to pull you out of it.

And that was what spurred her to go and talk to him on the second day. She didn't really know what she was going to say to him, but all she knew was that her conscience wouldn't let her alone until she, at the very least, made an attempt.

He was by himself, as he had been since they had arrived back at the large apartment that Do-il had purchased to utilize as a safe place to hide from Soo-im. He hadn't quite bought the entire building, but he had purchased enough of the top few floors to more or less ensure that they would have plenty of privacy the whole time.

Ward was outside, standing on the rooftop patio, looking out over the city. He had been there for most of the time. She wondered what he was looking at.

She also wondered what Do-il would say if he knew what she doing right now. She imagined that he would be furious. She couldn't blame him. There was no logical reason for her to be talking to Ward unless it was needed. Just because they were on the same side didn't mean that she had to be friends with him.

But it wasn't about being friends with him. It was about... understanding him. In-joo hadn't talked to In-kyung yet, but she knew her sister was back. What had she discovered?

"Seen anything?" In-joo asked as he emerged onto the patio. It was astounding, what money could buy you. Once, she wouldn't have even been able to imagine that a building like this existed. Now, she practically owned one.

Ward turned, clearly surprised by her appearance. "What are you doing out here?" he asked.

In-joo approached him, joining his side and looking down at the city below. "I'm not sure," she said. "I guess I was just wondering what you were looking at."

"Nothing," he said. "I'm looking at nothing. The sum total of me throwing away years of my life. And where did it get me? In a high rise with a group of people who should have been my enemies."

"You spend so much time being angry," In-joo said calmly. "What if you tried something else?"

Ward looked at her in astonishment and indignation. He was still bruised from his ordeal, but he was looking better than he had two days ago. His clothing, at the very least, ensure that he looked presentable. "Stop being angry? That's your suggestion?"

"That's not what I said," In-joo replied. "But tell me something, at least. Are you happy with the way your life has gone?"

"I'll be happy when this is over," said Ward. "Stop pretending like you care about me. You're not my friend. We're working together because it's the best way forward, and that's it."

In-joo took a breath to calm her nerves. He made her unspeakably nervous, for a lot of reasons. She had seen him kill people. She knew just how far he was willing to go. And yet here she was, talking to him, just like she would any other person.

"I'm not trying to be your friend. I'm trying to understand you. I'm trying to understand what would make a man do the things you've done."

"I'm not here to debate with you. I don't care if you agree with the decisions I've made."

In-joo felt herself beginning to grow angry, despite her best efforts. "I don't hate you," she said, barely managing to keep her temper under control. "Even after everything, I still don't. I just wanted to talk to you, because I don't think anyone deserves to be completely alone."

"Would you have said that about Sang-a?"

In-joo froze. It was a question that she hadn't considered. Sang-a had barely seemed human to her. Maybe at first, there had been a person inside, but the more In-joo had gotten to know the woman, the more clear it became that there was something fundamentally broken. In the end, it had all come crashing down.

She thought before she spoke. "Sang-a was hurt terribly when she was younger. And it wasn't anyone's fault. It just... happened. It was something that never should have happened, it wasn't intentional. And it changed her entire life. Maybe if she hadn't felt so alone, then she would have been able to do something about it."

"She nearly killed you."

"I know. But if I had met her earlier, maybe she wouldn't have. There's so many things that make each of us who we are."

"And you think that excuses the things she's done?"

"No. But it explains them. Even if I couldn't forgive her, I could at least understand her. Her childhood hurt her so much, and she never learned to move past it."

Ward sounded cold. "She was a psychopath."

"Maybe. But that wasn't her fault either. I'll never be able to forgive her for what she did. I just can't help but think that if she had just looked for someone—anyone—that maybe things would have ended up differently for her."

"And you want things to work out differently for me."

Now it was In-joo's turn to become cold. "Honestly, I don't care how things work out for you. But if I can find a way to have one less enemy, then I'll take it."

Ward, finally, had nothing to say. He just stood there, looking out over a city that had never been his home. In-joo wondered if he considered any place to be his home at this point, or if his life had just become a whirlwind of travel, never settling long enough to lay down roots.

When he did respond to her, his voice sounded different. In fact, she had never heard him sound like this before at all. The rage was gone, the disdain for the rest of the world was no longer there. It was just the voice of a man. Perhaps even the voice of a man who was only beginning to realize how much he had lost.

"I don't think it's worth thinking about. Because I've spent my life moving down this path. And if I start questioning it now, there are people who will no longer follow me. There are people who have come with me on this journey, because they thought it was right."

There was something about his tone that made her stop and question him. "You don't think it's right anymore?"

He looked at her, but his eyes were empty of the hatred that she had seen there so often. "I do believe in it. I have to believe in it. At this point, there are no other options left to me. I don't regret anything that I've done. And now, finally, I can see the end of it all. I'm closer than I've ever been."

"What will you do when you're finished?" In-joo asked. She didn't mean it in a confrontational way. She really did just want to know.

"It won't matter. Because I'll move on to the next mission. The only difference is that the next one won't be for me and it won't be for my family. It'll be for whatever I find first."

"And that's your life?" said In-joo. "Fighting against strangers until you die or someone kills you? I feel sorry for you."

"I don't want your pity. I want you to uphold the bargain we made."

In-joo looked at him and realized that he was lost. He was lost in the same way that Sang-a had been. There was a key component to Jack Ward that just... wasn't there. He looked human, he sounded human, he even acted human. But inside, there was just nothing. He was a shell, a body walking around without its soul. She wondered what would happen if she could find his childhood home. Would his soul still be there, just sitting on the ground, never having been given the chance to grow up?

"I hope you find what you're looking for," said In-joo. "And I don't mean the money. I mean whatever it is you're really looking for. My whole life, all I could think about what was I would do if I was rich. I thought that if only I could have money, then that would make me happy. And that was true, at least to an extent. But I found out later that it wasn't money I was really looking for."

"What was it?" asked Ward, seeming to be genuinely curious.

In-joo almost answered him, but then decided against it. "You'll figure it out one day. If I just told you, it wouldn't matter as much anymore."

"I had a feeling it was something like that," Ward said. "For what it's worth, it was never personal. Even from the start. It didn't matter that it was you. I'd have done the same thing to anyone else."

"I know. But that doesn't make me feel any better about it."

Ward chuckled. "I guess it doesn't."

There didn't seem to be much else left to say, but fortunately, she didn't have to say anything. The door behind them opened, and In-joo heard In-kyung. "In-joo. I need to talk to you."

In-joo thought about saying goodbye to Ward, but something about that didn't feel right. Instead, she just turned around and walked away, leaving the American standing there, alone with his thoughts.

"What the hell are you thinking?" In-kyung hissed as her sister stepped back inside. "Are you out of your mind? Out there alone with him? He could have just—"

"Just what? Pushed me over the edge? How would that have helped him?"

"That doesn't matter! You can't trust him, you have no idea what he's willing to do!"

In-joo, maddeningly, didn't seem bothered by what she had just done. "I trust him to do what's best for him. And right now, it would be in his best interest to kill any of us. Well, maybe Do-il. They really seem to not like each other."

In-kyung rolled her eyes. "Spare me. I get it. But we need to be careful now."

"Careful? You mean like leaving without telling anyone where we're going? That kind of careful."

In-kyung sighed. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"No, I'd be happy to let it go. Once you stop berating me for doing the same thing."

In-kyung almost snapped back, but decided to not bother. Instead, she gestured toward the table behind her, where she had placed the things they had retrieved from Woo-jin's house. "We went to talk to a man who worked alongside Ward's family. He knew them, in the Vietnam war and afterward."

"What did he tell you?" In-joo asked.

In-kyung wished she had better news. "Nothing that was earth-shattering. But he gave us these." She indicated the folder and the box that she had taken from the upstairs room.

"What are they?"

"I'm not sure. The folder contains documents that seem to be related to the war, the Jeongran unit, and the decisions that were made around it. The box contains... well, I don't really know. It's more documents, but they're all coded, and I couldn't make any of it out."

"Why did he want you to have them?"

"I don't know that either," In-kyung said. "He was... very old and full of regrets. I'm not sure if he even knew if these things could help us."

"Did you try cracking the code?"

"I looked at it. But whatever it is, it's military. I can't understand anything there."

"So we're back where we started."

"If anything, I at least understand Ward a little better. And I know that you shouldn't be alone with him. He won't stop at anything, In-joo. It's not safe. Maybe we should just give him what he wants." Even as she said the words, she knew they weren't true. They were just the thoughts of her frightened and exhausted mind, spilling out unbidden.

"Not until we're done with Soo-im," said In-joo.

"I know. I know. I just don't want anything to happen to you or In-hye. Or Jong-ho. Or even Do-il."

"We're safer if he's here with us. Have you shown Do-il those documents yet? I wonder if he would have anything to say about them."

In-kyung had considered that, but Do-il wasn't here right now. In fact, she wasn't sure where he had gone, and she hadn't wanted to alarm In-joo. But that must have shown on her face, because In-joo picked up on it immediately. "Oh. Did he leave again?"

In-kyung nodded.

In-joo exhaled. "Well. He can take care of himself."

In-kyung glanced at In-joo out of the corner of her eye. "So... how are things between the two of you? After he left, I imagine it was... awkward."

In-joo's face turned red and she tried to turn away. "Things are fine. He's back and we're working together."

In-kyung reached out and grabbed In-joo's shoulder. "Hey. No. Stop that. Look at me."

In-joo turned, though it was with obvious great reluctance. "What?"

"Tell him. Next time you see him, tell him. I know the two of you are spending more time together, and I don't know what you've talked about, but I know that you haven't told him everything. Everyone can see it now. Don't wait any longer. You don't know what's going to happen. None of us do. You don't want it to be too late."

In-joo's face had gone beyond red at this point, but she didn't say anything. In-kyung felt a bit of satisfaction. Maybe her sister would actually listen this time. If nothing else worked out, maybe they could find a way to be happy. All of them.

"Things are... difficult," said In-joo.

"I know," In-kyung said. Suddenly, she reached out and wrapped her sister in a hug. The impulse came out of nowhere, but it felt right. In-joo returned the hug immediately. "You'll figure it out," In-kyung said. "You always do."

Do-il was angry. And it was Min-jun's fault.

"What do you mean you can't work with us? We're risking our lives to get you what you need, the least you can do is—"

"I explained this already," Min-jun said. "It's not an official Interpol operation. And no one told you to agree to work with him anyway. That's on you, not me."

"This is the closest we'll ever get. He's in my house," Do-il said.

Min-jun didn't respond for a moment. He looked steadily at Do-il. "Are you sure that's what's bothering you? I don't know you that well, but this is a far cry from the Choi Do-il who stormed into my interrogation room, pretending to be a lawyer."

Do-il forced himself to calm down. Min-jun was right. He was acting strangely, and there was no real reason for it. He needed to get himself under control. "Point taken. But even so, Soo-im is still out there, and now she's her own threat. There's a missing CIA team, and Ward is looking for them. I think that at least somewhat falls under your area of jurisdiction."

"You'd think. But you'd be wrong. I'm not in control here, and I can't get in the CIA, even if they are doing... whatever it is that they're doing."

The two men had met secretly in a semi-public place, but Do-il no longer felt safe anywhere. He had survived Soo-im once, but he didn't expect her to bother keeping him alive next time. Now that she was just doing whatever she wanted, there would be no holding back.

"Things are going to get messy," said Do-il. "Much worse than they are now. If she comes after me or after the Oh sisters, I will kill her."

Min-jun sighed and looked up at the sky. "Can you maybe not tell the Interpol officer these things? I really don't need to know."

"I want you to be ready for what's coming. She's going to start a war."

"You're one person. You can't fight a war by yourself."

Do-il knew that Min-jun was right. But while what Min-jun had said was true, it didn't technically apply to him. Not anymore.

"I'm not by myself now. I haven't been for a long time."

Min-jun's face was doubtful. "You can't put them in the line of fire."

"That's not what I was saying," Do-il responded. He didn't add anything further. Min-jun would understand.

It only took the Interpol agent a few seconds to pick up on what Do-il meant. "Ah. I see. For what it's worth, I think you're a good person. You've changed, and I haven't even known you that long."

"Can I count on you for any help at all?" Do-il asked, ignoring Min-jun's statement.

"Not right now. I can't guarantee anything. I can only do whatever I can get away with. For now... it's up to you and your friends."

"Maybe it's for the best," said Do-il. "I'm not used to working with the authorities."

"I don't think you're used to working with anyone else at all."

"No," Do-il said. Then he grinned, just barely, but enough that Min-jun would be able to tell. "But I think I'm learning."

Notes:

I hope you all have a lovely Thanksgiving, if you celebrate it. If not, I hope you have a wonderful day!

The next chapter might take three days, as I currently plan to take tomorrow off from writing. We'll just have to see what happens! Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy.

Chapter 22

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

At first, In-joo didn't even know that anything was happening. It came out of nowhere. Part of that was because she, once again, wasn't expecting any sort of trouble. To be fair, no one else in their group was either. Do-il still wasn't back, and even Ward seemed mostly unconcerned. After all, it would be impossible for Soo-im to do anything while they were inside this building. They (or at least Do-il) now owned a decent portion of the top floors. And there were security guards stationed throughout, as was standard in these types of places.

She was enjoying being able to spend time with her sisters. After the previous crisis had ended, they had all gone their separate ways, and it had felt like there had been no time to enjoy their success. Now, she was able to see why what they had done mattered so much. Yes, they had changed the future of Korea. But on a personal level, they had all saved each other in different ways.

In-joo was amazed at In-hye. Her sister had always been precocious, but In-joo was only now starting to realize the depth of In-hye's wisdom. The way she spoke, the way she created. There was a depth to her that most other people her age simply hadn't developed yet.

In-joo remembered their arguments. Their fights. She remembered how far they had come. And she knew that she was so proud of her sister. For surviving, for growing, and for becoming who she was today.

"I'm not there yet," In-hye said, startling In-joo out of her thoughts.

"What do you mean?"

"I know that I changed a lot. But I'm not finished. I'm not done growing."

In-joo blinked in amazement. "How did you...? In-hye, it's okay. You're just a girl. You don't need to have those things figured out yet."

"I know. But I know how much pain I caused the two of you."

"You tried to make up for it."

In-hye wasn't convinced. "I tried to make up for it by giving you something that wasn't mine in the first place. That was only the start."

In-joo's heart swelled. "Oh, In-hye. No one expects you to know the right thing all the time. We make mistakes and then we move on. Sometimes we even learn from them. Nothing you ever did—nothing—could take away our bond. Kids fight with their families. And eventually, you figure out what you want."

"I'm trying," said In-hye. "At least now I'm trying."

"I'm proud of you," In-joo said. "I don't know if I told you that enough. But your sister and I, we're so proud of everything you've done. You've accomplished so much, and you're only just getting started. Think about what you'll be capable of in just a few years. Think about how much you've progressed already. You're incredible."

In-hye beamed. "You are?"

"I've always been proud of you. Even when you haven't known it. Even when you were gone. Even when I didn't agree with what you were doing. Because no matter what, you were strong. Always."

"I learned from you and In-kyung," said In-hye. "You taught me how to be strong. It just took a little for those lessons to really make sense to me."

In-joo was about to respond when she heard it. At first, she thought it was just someone slamming a door. Maybe Ward, in a fit of anger. But that didn't make sense—Ward wasn't angry, and the sound came from below them. It wasn't even on this floor.

Which begged the question—what was loud enough that she would be able to hear it on the floor above? This building wasn't made of the same cheap materials as her childhood home.

She looked up at In-hye who had fallen silent and whose face bore a worried expression. "What was that?"

In-joo didn't want to lie, so instead, she said nothing, standing up and making her way to where Ward had been. Maybe he knew something. After all, at this point, he wanted them to succeed against Soo-im just as much as they did.

But he was already walking back inside. No, walking wasn't accurate. He was hurrying. Practically storming.

Ward threw the door open and stepped into the building. "Barricade any doors. Now."

"What? What's going on?"

Jong-ho and In-kyung had clearly heard it too, and had both come out of one of the side rooms to see what it was.

"I don't know," said Ward. "But something's happening down on the street. They're blocking off street access to the building. If Soo-im knows that Do-il is gone, she might be here right now. Until we know what made that noise, everything needs to be locked down."

Everyone just stared at him.

"The doors!" he snapped. "Now!"

The Oh sisters and Jong-ho flew into motion, grabbing whatever they could to make sure that the doors were securely blocked.

In-joo kept telling herself that it was probably nothing, just the overreaction of someone who always needed to be prepared for the worst. But she couldn't even get herself to believe her words. There was just too much stacked against them for it to be nothing.

For a moment—just a moment—she wished that her life was as simple as it used to be. When she had been poor, at least she hadn't needed to deal with this sort of thing.

But the thought vanished quickly. Because despite the newfound troubles and fear that took up much of her life, she was still eternally grateful for the opportunity to no longer need to worry about money. Her life had changed so much because of it. She had met Do-il. She—

She heard it again, and this time, there was no denying it. It was the sound of violence. Not a gunshot, but something just as forceful. If she had to guess, she would have said it was the sound of someone forcibly slamming a door open, possibly shattering it in the process.

"Call the police," In-kyung said, as she wedged a chair under a door handle.

"Don't," ordered Ward.

In-kyung looked at him like he was mad. "What are you talking about? We can't handle this ourselves, and you're only one person."

"We don't know how many people she's gotten to. Remember what happened last time? There's no way of knowing who's on her side now. Jeongran was everywhere. And they didn't just disappear."

"She had a few days," hissed In-kyung. "There's no way—"

"I would have said there was no way she could have taken out my team, but she did it," said Ward. "I'm not taking chances."

"Then what are we going to do," snapped In-kyung. "We can't just stay here."

"They can't siege the building forever," said Ward, keeping his voice calm.

"Do-il will come," whispered In-joo.

In-kyung shook her head, her eyes wild. "Do-il is one man. I know how you think of him, but even he can't do this by himself."

"He'll find a way," In-joo said, and there wasn't an ounce of doubt in her voice. "He always does."

Do-il knew something was wrong before he even made it back to the building. Why were the streets closed off? Why was traffic being rerouted? He didn't see anything wrong. There were no obvious emergency vehicles, no sirens. He didn't see anyone being evacuated.

No. Soo-im couldn't have. This is beyond even her. It has to be.

But he couldn't risk it. He had to find out. If In-joo was potentially in danger, he couldn't just let it go. He had to do whatever he could. No matter what it took.

Do-il pulled his car up to the barrier. It was close enough that he could see the building that he needed to get to. A uniformed officer approached his car. "Sorry, sir, you're going to have to turn around. This section of the street is under lockdown as we evacuate the buildings."

"This is where I live," said Do-il calmly, hoping to be able to bluff his way past the barricade, even though he didn't expect it to work. "I need to get in for a handful of vital documents. You can escort me if you want. It will take a few minutes at the most."

"Sorry, sir," the man repeated. "Can't let anyone through."

Do-il froze for a fraction of a second, then sighed in disappointment. "I don't know what she promised you, but I can tell you that she either won't be able to deliver, or it won't be worth it. How much for me to just drive past?"

The officer looked stunned, and then his eyes narrowed. "You."

"Me," said Do-il.

Then he slammed his foot onto the accelerator, the car lurching forward and slamming into the barrier, sending it crashing to the ground as he tore past.

He made it to the building in seconds, but he didn't slow down. Instead, he continued to drive forward at full speed.

Do-il braced himself as his car struck the front of the building, shattering the glass and crumpling the doors under the weight of his vehicle. He braced himself, but was unable to prevent the airbag from slamming his head back into the seat behind him. The world spun, and he saw stars, and he needed to fight to prevent himself from blacking out.

I have to keep moving. I have to—

There was no time to stop and rest. There was barely time to think. He forced himself out of the car, stumbling a little as he did so. He drew his gun, something he had been carrying with him since Ward had decided to join them. Would it shock people? Probably.

But he didn't care. Nothing mattered. In-joo was in trouble. And he needed to get to her.

The lobby was empty, as far as he could tell. They must have already cleared some of the lower floors. He could hear people behind him shouting, likely at him, but the sound rolled over him as he moved forward. There was no time for that. They could follow him if they wanted. They could try and stop him. He would put them all down.

It started when he hit the stairwell. The shouting was still behind him, but much quieter, much less defined. It seemed like most of the emergency responders on the street were just people following orders. That meant the bulk of the ones in the building—whoever they were—were more likely to be part of Soo-im's Jeongran remainder.

Do-il wasn't a violent person. He didn't go out of his way looking for fights. He wasn't even an aggressive person by nature, despite what he had done for most of his life. Yet that was exactly what made him so dangerous.

Two men were coming at him from a flight above. Do-il didn't change his speed at all, continuing to climb the stairs at an even rate. The men rushed him, but Do-il saw their moves coming like they were in slow motion. He ducked, took a step back, then grabbed one of the men and flipped them over the railing, transitioning into a swift punch to the other assailant's throat. The man staggered backwards, choking, and Do-il raised his gun and fired once.

It wasn't a kill shot. It wasn't designed to end the man's life. Despite everything that was happening, Do-il still held onto his desire to not become a killer. Not unless there was no other option. Because he was better than that. He could always find another way.

There were more. Never more than three at a time as he moved up the stairs. None of them stood a chance against him. He conserved his ammunition, pulling the trigger as little as possible. Who knew what he would face when he made it to the floor he was looking for?

His strikes were delivered with the precision of a surgeon. There were people who were faster than him. People who were stronger than him. But at that moment, there was no one who was more motivated than he was. Each step was taken with single-minded focus, only one thought going through his head over and over again.

I won't be too late.

I will get to her.

I will make sure she's safe.

He was almost there. In fact, he didn't know how much further he had to go. All he knew was that based on the amount of time he had been climbing the stairs and the steady pace he had been keeping up, there couldn't be much further to go.

This was confirmed when he saw a heavily armed and outfitted group of men heading toward him. There were five of them, and he knew that he couldn't possibly fight that many of them in an enclosed space like this.

So in the blink of an eye, Do-il made a decision. Instead of continuing to the confrontation, he ran out the nearest door onto the current floor, the door slamming shut behind him as he raced through. He cast his eyes about, looking for where to go next. He had seconds, if that. They would be right behind him, and at least two of them had been wearing body armor.

There were residents of the building in the hallway, clearly confused and not understanding what was going on. But it was obvious that they had heard the gunshots.

"What's happening?" a woman asked in a terrified whisper.

"Get in your apartments and lock the door," Do-il said, bringing his gun up to a readied position. "It isn't safe."

The people saw the gun and panic sparked in their eyes. Do-il had been counting on it. His presence wasn't threatening, but it was commanding. It only took a few seconds for them to get out of the hallway and for him to get away from the stairwell, quickly turning a corner and heading to the other set of stairs on the opposite end of the building.

He pushed onto the staircase to find evidence that he had not been the first person to come this way. On the ground, nearly blocking the door, were the bodies of two men, both dressed in the uniform of a security guard.

Soo-im.

She was probably on In-joo's floor already. He needed to move faster.

Despite the car accident, the fights he had already been in, and the sheer amount of stairs he had climbed, he didn't feel tired. In fact, he didn't feel anything other than the simmering rage that was lurking just below the surface of his calm. He could keep it under control for now. He had to. But when he saw Soo-im, he wasn't sure what he was going to do.

An armed man shouted something at Do-il, something about how they didn't need him, but Do-il didn't even register the man's words. It took two rapid fire punches to send the attacker to the ground, and a sharp kick to the end to steal away his consciousness.

And then, he was there, standing in front of the door. The door that would lead to In-joo's floor. Do-il knew he was sweating, knew he was breathing hard. But he only knew those things as detached facts, things that didn't affect his reality in any meaningful way.

He tried to open the door, only to discover it was locked. There was no hesitation. He fired twice into the lock area, and the door exploded outwards.

He stepped through, gun raised, to see Soo-im standing there, flanked by six armed men.

She turned and shook her head when she saw him. "You have to be kidding me. You? Again? We saw how this went the first time."

Do-il didn't waste his breath responding. He was impossibly outnumbered. He would need to accomplish the impossible just to walk away from this, let alone win.

"You must really love her to put yourself through all of this. I nearly killed you last time. What makes you think this will be any different?"

Do-il could see what had happened. In-joo and the rest had barricaded themselves in, and Soo-im's men were struggling to get in, using what looked like a police battering ram to try and knock the door down. Maybe if he could buy a little time, then real emergency responders could show up. Maybe Min-jun would get word.

"You can't let anything go," Do-il murmured, his gun still up. "You were alive and free. And that wasn't enough for you."

"Because I was right. I've always been right."

Do-il looked at the men who flanked her. He had the attention of all of them now. None of them were looking at the door. None of them could tell what was happening.

But he could. And he knew that he would only have one chance to act.

"What's your endgame? You'll never get the money. Even if you kill all of us, you have nothing."

Soo-im's glare was vicious. "I'll have exactly what I want. Your friends, dead. Your love, dead. And you'll be the last one to go. So that I can see the look on your face after I take it all from you. The way you took it all from me."

"You're pathetic," Do-il said simply. "All your connections, all the power you could have, and this is what you choose to do with it? This is why you were nothing more than a glorified servant. Because you're too small to imagine doing anything else."

He watched as Soo-im's eyes widened in rage. He could practically see her thoughts vanishing under the tide of anger. "I'm going to enjoy killing you," she hissed.

"You'll never get the chance," he said.

"And, please, tell me why?"

"Because you made a mistake. And you keep making the same mistake, over and over. You should never have threatened the people I care about."

"I thought all you cared about was money," Soo-im leered.

Do-il's muscles were quivering, ready to strike. He could see behind Soo-im, behind her men. And he knew that in a moment, he would have one more ally.

That would have to be enough.

"And look what I was able to accomplish in the name of money," Do-il said calmly. "You can't even imagine what I'll do for something more than that."

"You can die," said Soo-im.

But she was wrong. Do-il could already tell. And as the hallway exploded into violence, he had only one thought controlling his actions.

In-joo. I have to get to In-joo.

Notes:

A tense one! Things are really happening now.

If you celebrate Thanksgiving, I hope you had a good one! I enjoyed my days off (and my one day break from writing ahaha). I'll be back soon with the next chapter, so look forward to it!

I received some very meaningful comments over the past few days, which I am so grateful for. I feel very lucky to be able to reach so many people with this story. I hope you're still enjoying, and I'll see you all very soon!

Chapter 23

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

A few minutes ago.

"What's happening?" Hyo-rin's voice was very small and very scared, and In-hye didn't know what to tell her. It was loud, too loud, and the sounds that she had heard... well, they were more than likely gunshots. And they were getting closer.

"It's going to be okay," said In-hye, keeping her voice as calm as she could manage. "Breathe. Like you showed me, remember?"

In-hye wanted to tell Hyo-rin to go back into her room, to get into bed, to hide under the blankets. But she knew that now, the ability to move quickly was paramount. They might be called on to run at any moment, and they needed to be ready.

In-hye glanced at In-kyung, who had just finished blocking off as many entrances as possible. Her eyes were wild as she looked at Ward. "What are we going to do?"

Ward, to his credit, seemed to be doing everything he could to find them a way out. "We can't do anything right now," he said, before sliding a gun out of his suit and dropping the magazine to check how many rounds were in it. "If they get in, I'll do what I can to get us out."

"Why are you helping us?" In-joo asked.

In-hye was wondering the same thing. Allegiances had changed so often that she wasn't sure if she could accurately describe what was happening anymore. The only thing that mattered to her was the safety of her sisters and Hyo-rin. The fate of the money and the Jeongran conspiracy... well, she didn't care about them anymore. Once, the money had been her primary concern. To the point where she had been willing to do anything to get it.

Now, things had changed.

"Because if you're not alive, then I don't ever get what I want," Ward said matter-of-factly. "So you're going to stay alive."

"What does she want?" In-hye asked, clearly talking about Soo-im.

"She wants you all dead," Ward answered. "At least, that's my guess. I thought that she was trying to get the same thing I wanted—the money, and justice. But it seems like she's less complicated than I thought."

"This would have all been avoided if you had just gotten over yourself," In-kyung spat.

"You can blame me all you want," Ward snapped. "But we don't have time for that right now."

He continued speaking, but his words were drowned out. Because in the next moment, In-hye heard a devastatingly loud sound—not a gunshot, but a massive, echoing slam against the now locked and barricaded front door of the apartment suite.

Ward spun. "They have a ram. She must have law enforcement on her side."

"How is that even possible?" In-joo asked in a horrified whisper.

In-hye saw In-kyung glanced at Jong-ho. He seemed to immediately understand what she was asking for, because he nodded and approached In-hye and Hyo-rin. "Come with me," he said calmly.

The noise happened again, and it felt like the entire apartment shook.

Hyo-rin gulped. In-hye was terrified to find that Hyo-rin was growing paler by the second. In-hye took Hyo-rin's hand. "Come on," she said. "Let's go."

Hyo-rin barely responded. She looked borderline catatonic, and her breathing was starting to turn into wheezing. In-hye's heart thumped painfully in her chest. If Hyo-rin had a fit now, there was nothing they would be able to do about it.

Please. Please just hold out a little longer. We'll figure something out.

"This way," Jong-ho said kindly, leading them to the bedroom. "I'm going to go back out there," he told them once they were inside. "I want you to put as much as you possibly can in front of the door. The dresser, the bed. Anything you can move. Wedge things under it."

"What about you?" Hyo-rin whimpered.

Jong-ho bent down to her eye level and smiled. "I have to go be with your sister. But you'll be safe in here." He looked to In-hye. "Can you take care of her?"

In-hye nodded firmly. "Always."

Jong-ho looked proud of both of them. "I'm going to go be with your sister then. Stay quiet and stay low. This will be over soon."

In-hye knew that he was just trying to make them feel better, but somehow, she appreciated it anyway. He really did seem to care about them. He was different than Do-il in many ways, but In-hye could see some similarities under the surface.

Jong-ho took one last look at them, then slipped out the door.

In-hye turned to Hyo-rin. "I need you to help me move as many things in this room as possible. Can you do that?"

Hyo-rin looked shaky at best, but she still nodded. "Show me."

In-hye cast her eyes about the bedroom, deciding on the best order to block the door. "We'll start here."

The ram was getting louder. In-joo was terrified and felt paralyzed by the sound. What were they supposed to do in the face of something like that? If Soo-im really did have law enforcement backing her up, wasn't this just going to be a repeat of last time?

She had never expected to be counting on Ward as an ally. Yet here he was, seemingly preparing to start a fight that he likely didn't have any chance of winning. All because of his sheer determination to get exactly what he wanted.

But... strangely, she didn't want him to die either. It was a far cry from the antagonistic, threatening, and downright violent relationship they had before—and she hadn't forgotten the fact that he was a literal murderer—but the idea of someone dying to protect her just didn't sit well with her.

"Flip a table and get behind it," Ward said. "As many of you as possible. Stay out of sight."

"What are you going to do?" In-joo asked.

"Whatever I have to."

She knew that he was telling the truth. She had already seen the lengths that he was willing to go to.

Strangely, though, the ramming had stopped. And perhaps even stranger still, that worried her more than the sound did.

"You can't go out there. They'll kill you."

But Ward waved a hand at her to indicate a request for quiet. He approached the door silently, then put his ear to it, seemingly holding his breath as he did so. In-joo watched his face as he listened. It only took a few seconds for Ward's eyes to widen.

"What is it?" In-joo asked, her voice hushed.

Ward stepped back from the door, an intense expression on his face. "Listen to me. I'm going to go out there in a minute. Don't. I already know what you're going to say. But he's out there. And he needs help. If we're going to make it out of this building alive, that's the only way forward now."

In-joo didn't need to ask who Ward was talking about. She already knew. Do-il. He was here. He had somehow made it back, against all the odds. She couldn't imagine what he had likely needed to do just to get to their floor.

But he was here. And that meant she could have hope again.

"Please keep him safe," In-joo whispered, knowing full well that Ward didn't give a damn about the safety of Do-il.

"I'll do what I can," he said. "Now hide. Go."

In-joo didn't take another moment. She ran to where In-kyung and Jong-ho were covering behind a heavy, overturned table. She heard Ward click the safety off his gun. And she heard the door slowly unlock.

She prayed that in just a few minutes, she would be able to hear Do-il's voice.

Do-il threw himself to the side just as Ward raised his gun and fired. One of the men dropped, killed instantly, which evened the odds a little bit, but not enough to make Do-il comfortable with their chances.

Because he didn't want to turn it into a firefight. Soo-im and her men were more heavily armed, more prepared, and less likely to care about collateral damage. But if he could close the distance, and turn it into a fistfight...

Then he might have a chance.

Ward had stolen their attention, which gave Do-il enough of a window to duck, roll, and come up right behind Soo-im. She gasped, backpedaled a step, and attempted to defend herself from his initial strike.

She failed.

Soo-im staggered, and Do-il fought to keep his vision from tunneling. There were still more enemies, all around, and even though Ward was in the mix now, he didn't trust the CIA agent enough to consider his back covered.

Do-il's goal was simple. He didn't need to kill anyone. He didn't even need to incapacitate Soo-im. All he needed to do was make sure he could get to In-joo and get her out of the building. Do-il was all too aware of the fact that there were more men likely still on the way. He needed to finish this fast.

Soo-im had regained her footing and launched herself at him. Her moves were wild and uncontrolled, which made them easy to predict, but more dangerous if they connected.

"I expected more," Do-il said as he dodged another crazed strike. "You're not what you used to be."

"It doesn't matter what I used to be," Soo-im growled.

Do-il chuckled, though it was forced. He was trying to get under her skin even more, cause her to lose all control. It had always been her weakness. It would help him win here, as well. "Really? Because it looks like all you care about is the past. You're obsessed with an organization that never even cared about you."

"They were going to give me the world!"

"You still believe that?" Do-il snorted and parried a kick that hurt far more than he was willing to show. "Sang-a never even thought about you. You were nothing to her. And in the end, Jeongran was just her playground."

"I could have had everything!"

Do-il ducked, weaved, and then threw himself forward, slamming Soo-im into the wall, his forearm against her throat. "And now you have nothing. Don't go down this path. It doesn't lead anywhere that you want to go."

"This is the only thing I have left," Soo-im said, struggling against his grip.

"Then there's only one way that this is going to end," said Do-il.

Ward grunted and then snapped at Do-il. "Less talking, more fighting! You're not the only one here."

A small part of Do-il had hoped that he would have been able to talk Soo-im down, even though he knew just how unlikely it was. But that hope was dashed with the reminder that more than one person was counting on him to win this fight. There was no time for words.

"Gonna kill you," Soo-im hissed.

"I doubt it," Do-il said. "Not if you keep fighting like this."

Soo-im snapped. He was expecting it—he had even been encouraging it—but what he had not been expecting was the sheer ferocity with which Soo-im was going to react. Do-il heard Ward grunt, and knew that the agent had taken a blow, but Do-il had no time to react, because Soo-im had grabbed his arm and twisted, wrenching him so fast that he was forced backwards and onto the defensive.

"How's this then?" Soo-im demanded.

Do-il didn't bother responding, because Soo-im was no longer just trying to beat him down. She had pulled out a knife, a savage looking switchblade that could gut him in a second.

But he needn't have worried about the blade. Or at least, he should have been paying more attention to the men that Ward was engaged with, because one of them must have stepped away from Ward to help Soo-im.

Someone struck Do-il in the back of the head, hard enough to send him staggering forward, right into t Soo-im.

Right into Soo-im's blade.

The knife felt like cold fire sliding between his ribs. Do-il's mind went blank as his breath rushed out of his mouth in a pained gasp, and the only thing that he could think of was that he needed to get the blade out of her hands, because if she carved him up now, there was no way he would survive it.

Do-il reached down and grabbed her wrist, his eyes locking on hers. She was smiling, the smile of someone who knew that she had almost won. Do-il had no idea what was going on behind him—had Ward survived? Had the other men managed to take him down?

Did it even matter anymore?

"You're weaker now," Soo-im whispered with gleeful rage.

Do-il smiled painfully. Each word felt like it was being dragged up from the bottom of his gut. "You never understood."

He didn't add anything further. He had long since said more than enough to her. No amount of explanation, no amount of words would ever help her discover the meaning behind his actions. So instead, he just grabbed her wrist and squeezed with every ounce of his strength, forcing her backwards, forcing her to withdraw the knife from his abdomen.

He could feel her wrist joint screaming in protest, and so he ignored his own pain and kept up the pressure, refusing to let her go until... until...

In-joo. I'm almost there.

Soo-im dropped the knife. Do-il swung wildly, and by luck or by virtue of the sheer force he had just applied to Soo-im's arm, she wasn't able to dodge. His fist connected squarely with her chin, sending her crashing to the ground, stunned senseless.

Someone else struck Do-il in the side, pushing him towards the wall, as he swayed on his feet. It was the final remaining attacker, who had stepped away from Ward and attempted to get the drop on Do-il. Do-il traded blows with the man, no longer able to move quick enough to dodge. A few seconds passed, and he feared that he wouldn't be able to win—that the stab wound would slow him enough to cause him to lose.

But it didn't matter. Because Ward was picking himself off the ground, and in the next moment, had launched himself into a full flying tackle, slamming the final attacker into the floor so hard that he wasn't able to get back up.

Ward stood on shaky legs. "Get in the apartment," he said through heavy breaths. "Go now, before you lose too much blood."

Do-il wanted to say that more men were on the way, but he didn't have the energy to argue. So instead, using the wall to steady himself, he unsteadily made it to the front door of the apartment suite, which was mercifully still unlocked.

He made it inside, with Ward right behind him, before he collapsed to the floor out of exhaustion.

The problem was that they weren't safe yet. They weren't even close.

"Barricade the door again!" Ward barked. "Do it now!"

In-joo wanted to comply, she knew it was the right thing to do, but she was frozen in her spot. In-kyung and Jong-ho were moving to follow Ward's order, which was good, because In-joo couldn't bring herself to do anything at all.

Anything other than stand there and stare at Do-il, who had fallen to the ground and was clutching his stomach, a horribly wet stain slowly spreading across his shirt.

"Do-il!" She was at his side in a second, so full of regret and fear. She should have been with him, she should have done something other than hide like a coward. If he died like this, defending her, how would she ever, ever—

No. Don't think like that. He doesn't need your fear. He needs you to think and to act.

"I need a bandage," she said to Ward, her voice choked by her own apprehension. "Something. Anything."

Ward cast his eyes about the apartment for some object that could be used to at least slow Do-il's breathing. There wasn't much. The best he could do was an extra shirt he found draped over the back of the chair. He grabbed it and started to tear it into strips, before tossing it to In-joo, who started to work as fast as she could to bind the injury tight enough to stop the bleeding but without causing Do-il undue pain.

"There's... no time," Do-il wheezed, and In-joo was starting to understand just how much danger they were actually in. "The door... you need to..."

Jong-ho and In-kyung had done their best, but Ward wasn't able to help much, simply because of the injuries he had sustained fighting. And Do-il could barely stand, let alone move heavy objects to prevent the door from opening.

And it wasn't enough.

The ram smashed against the door again. In-joo looked at Do-il and saw, maybe for the first time, true fear on his face. "There's more of them," he managed to say. "They're here."

She wanted to tell him that it would be okay, that they would find a way to make it out alive. But even the thought sounded preposterous to her.

At least In-hye and Hyo-rin are safe, she thought to herself.

In-joo reached out and took Do-il's hand. "I'm here," she said quietly.

If this was how they died, at least they wouldn't be alone. At least they would have done everything they could.

The ram crashed into the door, and this time, it was hard enough to send Jong-ho and In-kyung falling backwards, dropping the table they had been trying to maneuver into place.

"Get back," Do-il said. His voice was shaky, weak, and fading.

And impossibly, against all odds, he stood.

He was bleeding. He was exhausted. He shouldn't have even been conscious, let alone on his feet. But he was still going.

Because that was what he did.

"They're going to be in here," he said, his voice low and strained. He looked like he could collapse at any moment. "Get away from the door. I'll do what I can. As soon as it's clear, get In-hye and Hyo-rin. And run. I'll be right behind you."

In-joo was crying. She was sobbing, her body shaking, her vision blurred. But she nodded, because what else could she do?

"Swear to me you'll be there," she whispered.

He didn't say anything. And she knew why.

Because he had told her that he didn't want to lie to her ever again.

Notes:

Presented without much comment.

I'll see you all soon. Thank you for reading, thank you for commenting. Hang in there, new chapter in just a few days.

Chapter 24

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In-hye could hear the sound of violence, and so she knew that Hyo-rin could hear it too. In-hye's fear wasn't that the people would find her. It was that Hyo-rin would lose control of herself and fall into one of her fits.

The two girls were sitting on the ground, on the side of the bed furthest from the door. The door was locked and heavily blocked, but that did nothing to prevent them from hearing what was going on just in the next room.

"It's okay," In-hye whispered. "It's going to be okay."

But Hyo-rin wasn't speaking. In fact, she was barely managing to keep her breath under control, and In-hye was growing more concerned with every passing moment. If Hyo-rin started to hyperventilate or worse, passed out, In-hye wasn't sure if she would know what to do.

Please. Please hurry. Please be safe.

They were fighting. People were always fighting. Over money, over power, over all those things that didn't matter that much in the end. At least, they didn't matter in the face of love. In the face of family. In-hye thought she could hear the sound of In-joo's scream. She prayed that it was something else or that she had misheard.

"In-hye..." Hyo-rin's voice was small. So small. Choked with the fear and trauma of a life that no child should ever be forced to live. "What are we going to do?"

In-hye wished that she had an answer. But the only answer she had was to sit there, staying as quiet as she could, and praying that everything might end in a way that brought them all to safety.

It was the curse of being a child. In-hye wasn't stupid. She knew that her youth brought her certain freedoms and advantages that adults were no longer lucky enough to have. But what she didn't have was the agency and the power that came with being an adult.

"I won't let them hurt you," In-hye said. And she knew that her words were true. If it came down to it, she would put herself between their enemies and Hyo-rin.

Hyo-rin was trembling, just a little. In-hye took her friend's hand and squeezed it. There wasn't anything else she could do now, no matter how much she wished otherwise.

It happened so fast, that even though In-joo tried to prepare herself, she was still stunned, almost into inaction. The door crashed open, exploding off the hinges, and for one, brief moment, In-joo found it almost funny—yet another supposed place of safety, all but destroyed.

"Go!" Do-il shouted. "Get them and go!"

There were too many of them. Soo-im was with the reinforcements, hanging back, and In-joo had no idea how Do-il could possibly hope to fight them all, even with Ward at his side.

The gunshots started and In-joo screamed. It was loud, too loud, impossibly loud, and the sound was echoing off the walls, only increasing in volume.

Ward was helping Do-il, but it was all a blur. They were moving fast—too fast—and their strikes were just too brutal. It was too much. She couldn't leave him here. She couldn't—

"In-joo," he managed to say, "you need to go!"

She nodded blindly and stumbled backwards, trying to get away from the chaos that was unfolding. One of the men reached for her, trying to grab her, and Do-il decked him with a sucker punch that sent the attacker falling backwards to the ground.

In-kyung followed In-joo to the bedroom that In-hye had barricaded herself and Hyo-rin in. In-joo pounded on the door. "In-hye, open the door, we need to leave now!"

She couldn't hear what was happening on the other side. She could only hope that her sister had heard her.

"In-joo—!"

One of Soo-im's reinforcements had slipped past Do-il and Ward and was charging at In-kyung and In-joo. In-joo turned just in time to see the man's bandana-adorned face almost right in front of her.

He never made it to her. Jong-ho came rushing in from the side and tackled the man, both of them toppling over and skidding along the ground. "Hurry!" Jong-ho shouted.

In-joo pounded her fist on the door just as it started to open. In-hye hadn't managed to remove everything that had been functioning as a barricade, but she had pulled it back enough so that there was enough clearance for both of them to squeeze through.

Hyo-rin was pale and shaking, but In-hye helped her through the gap first before following her. The apartment suite was chaos. In-joo was trying hard—too hard—to not focus on what was unfolding around her, which she knew was Do-il doing everything in his power to keep Soo-im and her team away from the Oh family. And In-joo knew that it could mean...

He might need to sacrifice everything.

Jong-ho was struggling to hold down the man who had nearly made it to In-joo, and he was taking blow after blow from someone who was likely a trained combatant.

"Go!" Jong-ho grunted, kicking out and flipping over, putting a little distance between himself and his opponent. He scrambled to his feet and started heading for the door.

In-joo couldn't help it. She had to look at him one last time before she left. She knew that it could be the last time she saw him, because anything could happen in the next few minutes. Her vision was blurred with tears, her eyes were burning and her throat felt like there was a hot coal in it. But despite all of that, she could see Choi Do-il as clearly as the first time he had walked into her life.

He was beautiful.

He always had been beautiful, of course. She had always known it. But now, in this moment, even when it felt like the world was disintegrating around them, she saw it more than ever. She saw him for his flaws, for his imperfections. She saw him for all the secrets that he held inside himself, all of the trauma he had carried with him.

She saw him for his quiet, understated kindness. She saw him for his generosity, a facet of his personality that even he didn't seem to know about.

It hurt her. To leave like this, while he was risking his life in a fight that might as well have been unwinnable. It hurt her because she had done it before, and it had nearly killed him. She knew that Soo-im would kill him this time, and there would be no rescue attempt. No swooping in at the last minute.

In-joo wanted to shout to him, to tell him how much he meant to her.

But she couldn't. Because she was already moving out the door, right behind In-hye and Hyo-rin, In-kyung and Jong-ho by her side as she went.

Soo-im was screaming something, her words full of explosive, uncontrolled anger. In-joo couldn't hear her. The only thing she could still hear was the sound of her heartbeat and the painful heaving of her own sobs, as her tears threatened to cloud her vision entirely, replacing her reality with an impenetrable haze.

Do-il knew that he was dying. There had been a chance of survival, he was aware of that. But that chance had faded when Soo-im's reinforcements had arrived. A stab wound to the gut was not as easy to survive as the movies made it seem. And even though it had been treated quickly, the strain he had then immediately put it through was just too much.

And so, he knew that he was dying.

But despite that knowledge, it didn't stop him from fighting harder than he ever had in his life. He seemed to have some sort of strange understanding with Jack Ward. They were in sync, their movements timed perfectly, trading opponents and ducking under each other's blows.

Do-il's elegance and grace were vanishing. He was beginning to fight more like a wounded, feral animal, and he didn't care. All that mattered was buying enough time for the others to escape. What Ward did next was irrelevant.

If In-joo lived, then that was enough.

Soo-im was furious beyond words. Even her men were growing frustrated—after all, there were only two people defending the Oh sisters. It should have been a slaughter.

It was anything but.

Soo-im was injured enough that she wasn't as much of a danger as she should have been. And they were all exhausted. The fight had gone on for far too long, and Do-il wasn't the only one who had lost blood.

He was, however, the only one who had lost this much blood.

Do-il wished that he could devote more of his attention to watching In-joo leave. But he was only able to catch a glimpse of her as she hurried out the door. He could see enough though, and that glimpse combined with his memories of her...

They meant everything.

He thought he had figured something out in that moment, though he knew now that it was too late. The Oh sisters were gone, leaving Do-il and Ward alone in the apartment, fighting for their lives.

He had never expected Ward to be on his side. He had very nearly come to blows with the man several times, though it seemed that every time they had been at each other's throats, something had gotten in between them.

Ward shoulder checked Soo-im into the ground, then spun, delivering a high-velocity roundhouse kick to the abdomen of one of her men. "Run!" Ward shouted. "Follow them!"

Do-il's head was spinning. He thought that he might have been concussed from the confrontation, and he was having a hard time wrapping his head around what Ward was trying to do.

"Go! I'll cover you!" Ward had gotten enough space to fire his gun, and he was forcing their remaining opponents to find whatever cover they could.

Do-il couldn't feel his legs. He knew he was moving, but he wasn't aware that he was doing it. He felt like his body was completely out of his control. The only thing that was keeping him on his feet, keeping him moving forward was the thought that maybe, if he pushed himself hard enough, then he would be able to see In-joo again.

He made it out the door, and the walls of the building were a blur. Did he hear sirens? Were emergency responders finally on the scene? Could he trust anyone, even if they did get here?

We should have left Korea. It wasn't worth staying. I was right from the start.

In-joo and her sisters. They were good people. Too good. If only they were more selfish, if only they thought more about themselves. Then none of them would have been in this situation in the first place. He could see the irony in that thought—because what hurt him the most wasn't the fact that he was dying. It was the fact that she was still in danger. And that if he wasn't around to watch out for her, who knew what would happen?

She cared too much about the world to ever focus on her own safety.

Do-il almost fell into the elevator. Ward was running out of the suite now, firing and then reloading his gun as he went. Do-il hesitated, but Ward was shouting at him and waving his arms, indicating that Do-il needed to close the elevator doors right now.

Do-il leaned forward and caught himself before he tipped over, his palm slapping on the close button. The doors began to slide shut just as Do-il's eyes caught sight of the trail of blood that he had left on the ground, leading all the way up into the elevator itself.

In a moment, he was alone, with only his thoughts and the sound of his pounding heartbeat for company. The pain was immense and it was everywhere, emanating out of the stab wound and flowing through the rest of his body. Somehow, it was worse than the beating that Soo-im had given him when he was her captive.

Despite all of that, his mind was divorced from his body. Because In-joo was escaping. Even now, she was likely fleeing the building, driving away, getting as far from Soo-im as possible.

As Do-il watched the floor indicator tick down, one at a time, he hoped that In-joo had the sense to get as far from this place as possible, and to leave for America right away. Soo-im would be able to follow there, but it would slow down the Jeongran remnant to an almost unimaginable degree. Maybe, with a little luck, In-joo could be safe.

Run, he thought, as he slid down the wall, collapsing into a sitting position. You can still make it.

"We can't leave him!" In-joo screamed.

In-kyung's heart was in pieces, because she could only imagine what was going through In-joo's head. Her sister refused to leave the building, even though they were on the bottom floor, even though they were so close to relative safety. All they needed to do was get in a car and get out, get as far from here as they could. In-kyung was already formulating plans on how to get back to America. It would work.

But In-joo wouldn't leave. And In-kyung couldn't let her sister stay behind and fall into what was likely certain death.

"In-joo, we have to..."

"What would you do? If it was Jong-ho, what would you do?"

In-kyung already knew what her answer was. But she also knew that she couldn't let In-joo stay here by herself. It wasn't fair. Maybe it wasn't even right. But in the face of family, what did words like fair and right matter?

"I'm sorry, In-joo—"

In-hye was crying too. Her tears were silent, but they were pouring down her face, and In-kyung realized that In-hye had been closer to Do-il than anyone else had known.

No. Don't think like that. He's not dead yet. He could still make it.

But she knew how impossible that was. In-kyung grabbed In-joo by the shoulders and tried to force her toward the devastated front of the building, the one that Do-il had crashed his vehicle into.

"No!" screamed In-joo, and her voice carried more pain than In-kyung could ever remember hearing. "I'm not leaving him—"

It was a small sound that interrupted her. But its size belied its significance. It was a sound that under any other circumstance, would have been ignored. It would have meant nothing.

It was the sound of a small bell. The herald of the arrival of an elevator.

The doors slid open, and Do-il limped out, his clothes soaked with blood, his face battered and covered in sweat.

In-joo tore herself from In-kyung's grasp and ran to Do-il, so fast that for a moment, In-kyung feared her sister would fall.

He was alive. How was he alive? Where was Ward? What was happening above them?

"Do-il..."

"You should have left," he croaked, before almost collapsing his weight entirely onto In-joo. She helped support him, heedless of the blood that was now beginning to seep its way onto her clothes. "I told you to..."

In-joo's voice was almost drowned out by her tears, but In-kyung could still hear her. "I couldn't leave you behind not again. Never again."

"The basement... garage," Do-il managed to say. "The back stairs. I have another car there. We can take it out of here, we just have to—"

There was no moment of peace. Because they couldn't even have that.

The stairwell, the one that Do-il hadn't taken in exchange for the elevator, burst open, and Ward came through it, moving as fast as he could. Both of his hands were full, but he wasn't holding a gun anymore. No, instead he was holding an identical object in each hand.

In-kyung gasped and took an involuntary step backward in the direction of the basement garage staircase.

Jack Ward was holding two live grenades.

"Keep moving," he said, as he turned to face the door and started to back up. "The basement garage, right? They're right behind me. Go."

In-kyung knew that he was risking his life not to protect them, but to achieve his goal. It still felt strange to her—the sight of this man, who had once been willing to kill and kidnap them, putting himself directly in harm's way to keep her and her friends alive.

She didn't question it. She turned, Jong-ho by her side, and she started to run. In-hye and Hyo-rin were only a few steps behind her, and In-joo was helping Do-il go as fast as he could. They were going to make it.

They were actually going to make it.

She heard Ward shout at Soo-im's men, who had followed him down the stairs. "You get any close and I'll take you all with me. You think I care if I die? You want to find out."

In-kyung glanced over her shoulder one more time to see Ward slowly making his way to the door, and Soo-im glaring at them with the most utterly hateful expression that In-kyung had ever seen on a human being.

"You're all dead," Soo-im said. Her voice wasn't loud, and In-kyung didn't know how she heard it over all the chaos, but the words were somehow clear. "You're all already dead, and you don't even know it yet. I don't care where you go. There is nowhere you can run from me. I'll find you. Wherever you hide. I will find all of you."

In-kyung forced herself to push the ominous words from her mind. She slipped into the basement garage door and ran for the black SUV that Do-il pointed out. The door was unlocked, and Do-il tossed Jong-ho the key before they began to climb inside.

In-kyung's heart was racing, and she could barely breathe. She wondered, for a moment, why they weren't pulling away, but then she saw one last figure charging toward the vehicle, and she understood.

Jack Ward jumped in and slammed the door shut.

Jong-ho stomped his foot on the accelerator.

And they began to speed away.

Notes:

They made it! They really made it!

... or did they? Because this story isn't even close to being done. I hope you're ready for many more chapters to come! I've planned out a lot of content that I hope you love.

Thank you for reading and commenting! You're all really making my days. I'll see you all very soon!

Chapter 25

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Do-il was barely conscious. And he knew that he wouldn't be able to hold onto reality for much longer. But it wasn't time yet. He couldn't let go. Not until he knew everything was taken care of. Not until he was sure that In-joo was safe.

"Get to... get to an airport," he choked out. "America. You have to go to America."

He couldn't hold his own weight up anymore. He was sagging to the side, and it was only with In-joo's help that he was able to remain upright at all. "I know," In-joo whispered, and even though he could barely see her, he could tell that she was crying. "You were right. I should have listened to you."

"Don't," he said. "You did the right thing. You... always do."

The vehicle was moving fast, maybe too fast. Jong-ho was speeding through the streets, and Do-il wasn't sure if the other man even knew where they were supposed to be going.

"I have another safe house," Ward said, giving Jong-ho the address.

"Are you sure about that?" In-kyung asked. "Because that didn't work well for your last one."

"My team didn't know about it. No one knew about it except me. We can go there until you're ready to leave the country."

Do-il didn't like it, but he knew they didn't have a choice. "Need to leave... right away."

"I know," said In-joo. "I know. We're going to make it. We're all going to make it. And it's because of what you did. Thank you, Do-il."

He tried to smile at her. He really did. But he couldn't get his face to move, and the world around him was fading fast. He tried to hold onto the sight of her face. Maybe if he made sure that she was the last thing that he saw, it wouldn't be so bad.

He wasn't scared. He truly wasn't. Even when faced with the loss of everything, he didn't feel fear. He wondered why that was.

As his eyes closed, he realized the answer was simple. It was because he was with her. And because she was safe and alive.

In-joo watched Do-il lose consciousness, and for a moment, she was afraid that he had stopped breathing. Her own breath caught in her throat until she touched his neck with two fingers and felt a faint, fluttering pulse.

Her fear was replaced by a sense of relief. At least for now, he wouldn't feel any pain.

"What about your team?" In-joo asked Ward, unable to tear her eyes away from Do-il. "What are you going to do?"

"I'm going to get you all out of the country," Ward said, breathing heavily. He was wounded as well, but nowhere nearly as bad as Do-il was. "I'll handle my team myself."

"Is she going to kill them?" In-joo asked. She hated it. She couldn't handle the thought of more people dying over this. It was insane, the lengths people would go to for money and power. It needed to end.

"I don't know. If you ask me, I'd say they're probably already dead. But I have to try."

In-joo's world was changing too quickly. This man, who had been her mortal enemy, someone who was a literal murderer, was someone that she currently counted on as an ally. "Where will you go?"

"I'll do what I can here. If they're alive, I'll find them." He looked at her, and a dark expression briefly flashed over his face. "And then I'll come for you. Don't forget about the deal we made. This isn't over."

In-joo hadn't forgotten. He was, more or less, the entire reason this had all started in the first place. If he hadn't co-opted Soo-im, then she would have never been in the position to amass so much power. Things could have been over. It seemed to In-joo that the world just wasn't capable of leaving things alone. Everything just eventually became an unending cycle, with conflict feeding itself over and over until too many innocent people were dragged into it.

She didn't say anything else. There wasn't anything left to say. She sat in silence as Jong-ho drove as fast as he dared. Do-il had collapsed, falling sideways across the seat, his head in her lap, his eyes closed. His skin felt like it was burning. In-joo possessed limited medical knowledge at best, but she knew that he was suffering from both shock and exhaustion. They needed to get him somewhere that he could rest for a few days before they got on a plane to America.

In-joo didn't know exactly how far he had gone to make sure she was safe, but she had seen the lobby of the building. He had crashed a car into the building for her. He had likely taken down a small army just to reach the top floor. And after he had been there, he had stared down certain death without any hesitation.

In-joo turned back to In-hye and Hyo-rin, who were each clutching the other's hand tightly. "Are you okay?" In-joo asked.

In-hye nodded and glanced at Hyo-rin, who looked terrified, but otherwise unharmed. "We're okay."

In-joo supposed that for now, that was the best that she could hope for. They were alive and they were on the run. The future was anything but certain, and they no longer knew who they could trust. But they had each other. They still, at the very least, had that.

A crisis has the strange and unexpected ability to bring people together. To unite them in ways that they had never expected. And that was the reality of the inside of the small apartment they all now found themselves in.

The three sisters had always lived in different worlds—either by choice of career or because of choices they had made in their lives. But despite living in different spheres, despite each occupying their own corner of existence, they had never truly been separate from each other.

The same was true, even now.

In-kyung and Jong-ho sat together on the couch in silence, holding each other, neither daring to speak for fear of shattering the peace they had temporarily found.

In-hye and Hyo-rin were on the floor, near the window, the setting sun casting strange shadows on them as they stared out at the world, neither speaking. Their breathing was even and matched, and their shoulders rose and fell in unison.

In-joo and Do-il were in the bedroom, the door opened only a crack. Do-il had yet to regain consciousness, though In-joo had made sure that the binding on his knife wound had remained firm. She, too, said nothing, keeping her eyes only on him. Periodically, she would run a damp cloth across his forehead, an action that she knew was mostly futile.

It looked so much like a gallery—statues of humans populating it, frozen in their own tasks, yet undoubtedly connected to each other.

In-hye saw all of this, yet she lacked an understanding of what to do with it. Her mind was racing, her fingers were itching for a brush. But all she had was Hyo-rin.

Maybe that was enough for her.

In-hye could tell how much pain In-joo was in. Her older sister had barely spoken since they had returned, but her agony was obvious. In-hye understood too well. If Hyo-rin had been hurt... if something happened...

It would have been too much to bear.

In-hye knew now, more than ever, just how strong In-joo was. She had carried so much weight for so long, and even now, she still continued to do just that. An ordinary person would have crumbled under the pressure. But not In-joo.

In-hye wanted to speak. She wanted to say something Hyo-rin, anything at all, just to break the silence. Instead, she chose not to. The silence felt almost... alive, like it didn't want to be broken. And besides, what could she say that would make any difference now, after what they had just been through?

She was understanding, more and more, just how close to death they had been. If Soo-im had been successful, there would have been no survivors. It was only through Do-il's intervention—and Ward's—that they had come out alive at all.

Ward. What a strange man. In-hye constantly felt like she was on the verge of understanding him, but then he would do something else that would surprise her. He was their enemy. Now he was their protector. His rage was understandable and yet unjustified. His actions were terrible, but she could see the root of them. She disagreed with almost everything he had done, but she was constantly reminding herself that not long ago, she had been the monster.

Would she have killed to get what she wanted? No, surely not.

But she had never been given the chance to find out.

And now, Ward's team, the people who trusted him, they could be suffering the consequences for everything that had just happened. They were far from innocent as well—after all, they had followed Ward into his mission of obsession. But that didn't mean that they deserved to die.

Ward was gone. He had left only a day after they had made it to the house, and he hadn't been back since. In-hye knew where he had gone—he would not rest until he had either rescued his team or died. But how successful could he be if he was working on his own? In-hye didn't see a future where he found what he wanted.

Maybe that was the problem with the world. Maybe too many people were looking for things that they knew they wouldn't find. Maybe too many people were searching for answers that they knew they didn't want.

Was there a solution to that?

In-hye didn't know. Questions like that just seemed to go in circles forever, with no hope of a real resolution. She knew how to paint. She didn't know how to fix what sometimes felt like a planet that had long since been broken beyond recognition.

For now, her greatest hope was that Do-il would awaken. If he came back to them, then things would feel alright again. He would know what to do. He always did. And if he woke up, then In-joo would smile again. And that was something that In-hye missed very much.

"Did I do okay?" Hyo-rin whispered to In-hye. Her voice was barely audible, but it startled In-hye regardless.

In-hye wasn't sure what her friend meant by that. The confusion must have been apparent, because Hyo-rin went on to clarify.

"I didn't panic. Not too much at least. I don't think I slowed us down. I just wanted to be—"

In-hye smiled at Hyo-rin. "You don't need to do anything. You never did. Just be yourself. Whatever that means, that's enough."

Hyo-rin sighed. "Sometimes it doesn't feel like the rest of the world agrees."

"Then we'll have to make our own world," said In-hye.

To anyone else, that would have been a meaningless statement. To Hyo-rin, though, it made sense. She would understand, the same way she always seemed to understand.

In-kyung felt like she hadn't slept in weeks. Months. Years, even. The constant stress had taken a terrific toll on her body, and despite her best efforts, she hadn't been able to fight it off. She would have felt worse about it, but it seemed that Jong-ho was suffering from the same effects. Even when they did try and sleep, it was never for long. She kept waking up with her heart racing, afraid that Soo-im was going to kick in the door and execute all of them before they even had time to wake up.

Jong-ho was doing everything he could for her. The issue was that right now, there wasn't much they could do. She was attempting to secure passage back to America, but they couldn't leave until Do-il was back at a reasonable level of stability. She had considered suggesting that they take him to a hospital, but even that wasn't a good idea—Soo-im could have people anywhere by now.

Did that mean that South Korea would just be closed off to them forever? The idea was terrifying. She had gotten used to living in America, yes. She had even enjoyed it. But to be unable to return to the country of her birth for fear of being killed...?

She just didn't see a way out anymore. If they killed Soo-im, would that end everything? They had already exposed Jeongran for having been twisted out of shape and for transforming into something they had never intended to be. And despite that, there were still people willing to fight alongside Soo-im to gain nothing but revenge.

It was a disappointing look at the state of humanity. In-kyung hated seeing what people could be motivated to do, solely out of anger. But she knew it shouldn't come as a surprise. She had seen the depths that people would sink to out of desperation and frustration.

Part of her had just hoped that maybe, after they had shown the world what Jeongran had originally intended to be, its former followers might have changed their minds and walked away from their anger.

Jong-ho seemed to understand what was on her mind. "You can't help everyone," he said to her. It was morning, though In-kyung had difficulty keeping track anymore. The days seemed to blend together into a haze of anxiety and sleeplessness. "Sometimes, people make choices and refuse to turn away from them. You can't force them to change their minds."

In-kyung sighed. She was holding a cup of coffee that had once been too hot to drink, but had long since cooled off to such an extent that she no longer really wanted to drink it. "I know. That doesn't make me feel any better."

"You need to sleep," said Jong-ho.

"And you don't? I was a reporter, I'm used to not sleeping."

Jong-ho grinned. "I suppose I never built up the tolerance to this kind of lifestyle that you did."

In-kyung knew he was trying to get her to laugh. It was almost working too. "I should be taking care of you," she said. "I know you need it more than me."

"Some habits I just can't get rid of, I guess," Jong-ho said. "Anyway, I'm good at taking care of myself. You..."

In-kyung raised an eyebrow in a mock-offended gesture. "Yes? Go on."

"No, I don't think I will. I've already said too much." Jong-ho chuckled.

"I just want him to wake up," In-kyung mumbled. She didn't need to clarify who she was talking about. It was obvious.

"He will. In-joo's taking care of him. He's going to be okay."

"She needs to take care of herself. If he knew what she was putting herself through for him, he would be furious. And she won't listen to me."

If In-kyung had barely been sleeping, In-joo had barely been doing anything other than staying by Do-il's side at all times, and making sure that he had whatever he needed. If she had slept, it was sitting up in a chair next to him. He had been drifting in and out of consciousness, but not enough to really say that he was awake.

"She won't listen to anyone other than herself. But you can't blame her. You know that if it was you laying there, I'd be right there too, doing the same thing.

"And you know that I wouldn't want you to be doing that."

"It's not about that. It's about how it would make me feel. Would you be able to leave me alone?"

In-kyung had to admit that he was right about that. She had been thinking it already, but to have someone say it to her face was a different story.

"She's my sister," In-kyung said. "I just want her to be safe."

Wake up. Please, just open your eyes and look at me. Really see me. That's all I want.

In-joo didn't even feel tired, though she knew she should have. She wasn't afraid, though she knew that fear only made sense in these circumstances. She didn't care about the future, though she was all too aware that was the only thing that her family and her friends were thinking about.

No, the only thing In-joo was focused on—the only thing that she could focus on—was Do-il's recovery. She had been watching him around the clock for days, only dozing when she could literally no longer keep her eyes open. She had changed his bandage multiple times, dressed his wound, and made sure that he remained a comfortable temperature.

There had been a few moments where she had thought that he would awaken, but it never came to pass. And so she kept her vigil up, because she needed to be there when he finally fully emerged from his sleep.

In-joo wished that they could take him to an actual doctor, even if only for her own peace of mind. But there was no way to know if they could trust whoever they brought him to. Not until they were out of Korea. It made things even more complicated because—

"In-joo."

It was barely a whisper. It was closer to a croak, and it sounded like it had taken every bit of effort that he was capable of.

But he had spoken.

In-joo was out of her chair in a second, her eyes wide, her heart pounding. She didn't know what to do. Did she call for help? Did she get him something? Did she—?

"It's okay," he managed to say, and he offered her what looked like might have been an attempt at a smile. "Sit down. I just... can we just be here for a little? Just like this?"

She nodded, unable to speak at first, as her eyes filled with tears. She didn't even know why she was crying.

"Of course," she said. "For as long as you want."

Notes:

Thank you for reading and for coming back, chapter after chapter!

The next update might be three days away. I may or may not be able to write tomorrow, so if I am not able, it will take three days for the next chapter.

To give you all a look into the future of updates, I plan on having regular releases until around December 11th. I will be taking four or five days off then to work on other projects, and then will return to this story around the 15th or 16th. After that, expect regular updates to continue for some time!

I hope you continue to enjoy! I'll see you all very soon.

Chapter 26

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

The time passed slowly. They were too afraid to leave the safe house, because none of them knew where Soo-im or her people might be. It wasn't an issue in terms of supplies, because Ward had made sure that the house was well-stocked, but it was wearing on their patience and their nerves.

In-joo, though, wasn't feeling the same strain as everyone else. She was simply still too elated over the fact that Do-il had awoken. He was weak, but he was regaining strength. That was what mattered.

There was something else as well. Do-il looked... different. Physically, he was the same, even though he was weaker. It wasn't that. It was something in his eyes, something that she could see whenever he looked at her.

Even his voice was changed. When he spoke to her, an edge that she had never fully noticed before was just... gone. It was like his near-death experience had unlocked something inside of him, had reminded him of something that he had once known, a long time ago.

When he was finally able to stand and walk without help, In-joo felt like it was a personal victory for herself. She had spent almost all of her waking minutes by his side, only leaving him when she had been unable to keep her eyes open any longer. She had tried to say that she could just sleep in the chair next to him, but he had made her agree to sleep in a bed. She had been too tired to argue with him.

"Thank you," he said quietly. It was only a few steps across the room, but it represented progress that only a few days ago, he would have never been able to do. "I don't know what would have happened without you."

She smiled at him, but there was sadness in the smile. "You wouldn't have been injured without me."

She assumed that he was going to argue with her, but instead, he just chuckled. "I suppose I set myself up for that one, didn't I?"

"Maybe you're not as smart as you thought you were," In-joo teased. It was good to see him like this—the banter, the wittiness. All of that had been dampened down by the trials they had been going through. For now, though, they were safe, or at least safer than they had been since Do-il had returned to Korea.

They were still stuck in the house, and their future was uncertain and terrifying—but they were alive and for now, no one was actively trying to kill them. And they had each other.

That was enough.

Do-il made it across the room before he had to sit down in an armchair that was next to a table and a bookshelf. He lowered himself into it slowly and looked frustrated. In-joo could understand why. He had spent his life being the best at what he did. At the moment, he wasn't anywhere even close to that. In-joo felt for him. She knew that his soul was likely trembling under the weight of what he had endured and what he was still enduring, but his stoic nature refused to let him have a second to rest.

"I hate being like this," he said, so quietly that she thought she had misheard him.

In-joo didn't say anything. She didn't want to respond and break the willingness to share that he seemed to have suddenly developed.

"I know you're going to tell me that I don't need to carry the weight of the world all the time," he said. "But it's the way I grew up. It's the way I've lived. I don't know how to do things differently. I'm trying to learn, but I haven't really had a chance. And I know that was my fault, I know that if I hadn't left, then maybe I would have changed a little faster. I just..."

"Do-il, you don't have to change. Not for me. And not for anyone. I just want you to be happy. You deserve that, you know? Sometimes it's hard to tell."

"I'm only starting to figure out what 'happy' even means," Do-il said. "I thought it meant security. But that was only a small part of it."

"What was the rest of it?"

"I'm still looking," Do-il said. "But I know that you're part of it."

It was only a few words, but they were enough to catch her breath in her throat and prevent her from responding at all. She knew that they had shared that dinner, that they had been slowly becoming closer, but for him to just say something like that... it was so unlike him.

He must have seen her surprise. "I know you're thinking that it doesn't sound like me. Every time I speak, I think the same thing. But that's not the whole truth, is it? It doesn't sound like the me that you know. It doesn't sound like the me that I became. But it might sound like the me that I want to be."

"What are you saying?" In-joo asked, her voice hushed. She was afraid to speak too loudly. It felt like a dream, and she didn't want to shatter the illusion.

"I think you know what I'm saying."

In-joo smiled at him. "I've always known, the same way you have. But I want—no, I need to hear you say it."

Do-il hesitated, though if it was out of nervousness, uncertainty, or something else, In-joo couldn't say. "I'm not good at this," he said.

"I think you're wrong. I think you're great at it. I think you're great at almost everything you do, if you just let yourself do it."

He didn't say anything at first. He just looked at her with the expression that she had come to recognize. The expression that had come to speed up her heart rate. The expression that had been on her mind for all those months that he had been gone.

"I want to be with you," he said. His voice was steady and even. It was strong, stronger than it had been since he had woken up. There wasn't even a hint of doubt in his words. "I don't know what that means yet. I don't know what the future is going to hold. But I do know—without any question—that I won't ever leave again. As long as you'll have me, I plan on staying by your side."

He swallowed, opened his mouth to continue speaking, and then stopped. It was like he was having trouble getting the words out, and it took In-joo a moment to notice that Do-il's words had caught in his throat. That maybe... no, she had to be imagining it. He wasn't fighting back tears. He couldn't be. Not him.

"I've made so many mistakes. Sometimes it seems like my life has just been one after another. But if you asked me how much of it I regret, I wouldn't be able to tell you anything. Because all of it led me here."

She thought that she saw a shine in his eyes, but she knew, she knew, that it couldn't be true.

"Everything I did with Jeongran, all the selfishness that I allowed to guide my actions—it meant that I met you. And that's a poor justification for what I've done, but it was the one thing that allowed me to sleep at night after I left Korea. Because how bad could a life be if it led to you?"

In-joo, when she spoke, was so firm that she surprised even herself. She could feel tears in her own eyes, though she refused to let them start falling that easily. "No. We've all done things that we shouldn't have. We all have regrets. But Do-il, there is no such thing as a good person or a bad person. People are complicated, and people learn, and people change. And at the end of the day, we're all just human beings. Even Sang-a—she did terrible things, things that most of the world wouldn't even be able to think of. But she was damaged beyond belief. And it doesn't excuse the things that she did before she died, but it does explain them. She let her experiences twist her into a monster. You... did something different. You're no worse than me. No worse than In-kyung or In-hye. All of us have parts of our past that we wish we could forget about. And that's what makes us strong. We don't forget. We remember, and we try to do better. We—"

Do-il stood swiftly. In-joo almost admonished him, telling him to sit back down, because he wasn't in good enough shape to be moving like that.

She never had the chance to tell him anything.

He stepped toward her, and she knew saw for the first time just how little distance was between them. Only a few inches still separated them.

"There's a lot of things I should have done a long time ago," Do-il said. "This is only one of them."

And then, without wavering, without even seeming to think about it, he took her face in his hands, and he kissed her.

Any question she may have had, any doubts that might still have been in her mind evaporated instantly. It didn't matter that it felt like the whole world was against them. It didn't matter that they were hiding in the house of someone who was practically a stranger. None of that mattered to her.

The walls around her melted away, and the only thing that existed was Do-il. There was nothing to think about, nothing to even consider. This, she knew, was what she had been waiting for.

She pulled herself closer to him, aware of the need to be gentle, keeping her touch as soft as she could. Her heart was hammering in her chest but she felt...

Calm.

So this was peace. This was what she had been looking for. This was the thing that she hadn't dared let herself imagine.

She wished it could last forever, because the world couldn't be that awful. Not if it was possible to experience something like this. It was... perfect. For so many reasons. Not just because of the moment itself, but because of who she was sharing it with. The man she had gone through so much with. The man who had changed her life, over and over again.

But of course, no matter how perfect a moment was, no matter how much she wanted to just live in it until the end of time—nothing could last forever.

They separated, and she looked up at him, and she knew that her eyes were wide and full of stars. The most surprising thing was that his expression mirrored her own.

Do-il knew, the second he did it, that this was something he should have done long ago. He should have done it in the airport, before he left her. No, before then. Even then would have been too late.

He had been stupid. He had been foolish in a way that he wasn't used to. He had made mistakes that were so unlike him. He had been naive. Short-sighted.

He had missed out on so many opportunities, simply because he had been too afraid.

"I'm sorry," said Do-il.

"Don't apologize," In-joo said breathlessly.

"No," said Do-il. "I have a lot to apologize for. I have a lot to make up to you. And one of the biggest things that I need to make up to you is all the time I wasted."

As he spoke the words, he felt more and more confident about them. He could practically see the future unfolding in front of him, and for the first time since the Jeongran situation had unfolded, he felt... hope. He felt genuine belief that he could find happiness.

Not just because of In-joo. But because he saw that he was capable of emotions that he had long since believed to be closed off to him.

"I was afraid," he said, and it felt good to finally put the words out into the world. "I was afraid of letting myself feel things, because I was afraid of—"

"I know," she said. "You were afraid of losing anyone else."

"You've always known," Do-il said, and he was amazed by it. "You somehow always knew."

"So did you. But it's one thing to know it, and it's another thing to hear it."

That was when she reached for him. This time, when they kissed, she initiated it, pulling his face down to meet hers. Her lips lingered on his, and stole his breath away, and he marveled at the effect that this woman could have on him. How someone who had once been a stranger, someone who had once only been a means to an end, could change the way he felt about the entire world.

"We're going to make it out of this," he said, when he was able to speak again. "We're going to stop Soo-im and we're going to survive whatever Ward has planned. We can be happy."

"I think I lost sight of what that word means," said In-joo. "A long time ago."

"And I'm just starting to understand it," Do-il said softly. "I'd like to figure that out with you."

In-joo smiled at him. No, it was more than a smile. She beamed at him, her face almost glowing. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen an expression like that on her face. It seemed like the entire time they had known each other had been defined solely by trauma. It was time to start forming new memories. Better ones.

They weren't out of things yet. But at least now, he could see a path forward.

"You need to sit back down," said In-joo, looking at him with a concerned expression on her face.

He knew she was right, but that didn't make him feel any better about it. Admitting weakness was still not something that came easily to him, even when it was a result of physical strain on his body. She could clearly tell, because her next words were more forceful.

"You won't do anyone any good at all if you make yourself worse. Sit down."

He restrained a sigh and lowered himself back into the chair. "We can't do anything until Ward gets back anyway," he said. "And he could be dead by now."

"It will work," said In-joo.

He raised his head and looked up at her. He could feel the circles under his eyes. Despite the fact that he had been unconscious for days, he still felt like he hadn't slept in weeks. "That sounds familiar."

"We'll come up with a plan," In-joo said. "Isn't that what you always do?"

"Sometimes there is no plan."

In-joo looked like she was remembering something. And she smiled. "That's what you told me once, when you came to rescue me. That you couldn't come up with anything, so you just came. You trust me. So trust yourself. The things you're feeling, the things you've been trying to hide from... you don't have to be afraid of them."

Do-il thought about that for a long time before saying anything. It was a credit to the kind of person that In-joo was that she never once prompted him or asked him what was on his mind.

"I don't think I'm as afraid as I used to be. And I think that's because I feel safe with you."

Jack Ward was blinded by both rage and grief. He knew how unlikely it had been for him to encounter any sort of success in his mission. Soo-im had taken his team members with ease, and Ward was only one man. Soo-im had nearly killed him once, and there wasn't anything stopping her from doing it again. She had no reason to hold back, after all. She wasn't restrained by the same things that they were.

That being said, he didn't need to hold back either. If he could kill her, he would, so long as his team was safe.

Or at least...

That was what he had been planning.

Now, that was no longer a concern.

Her brazenness... the sheer fact that she had even considered it seemed insane to him. What made her think she could get away with killing—

Ward did not consider himself to be a sentimental man. He had lived most of his life in pursuit of one thing, and he understood the importance of sacrificing things to achieve that goal. But his team members—they hadn't deserved to die. They had been in this fight because of him.

And now they were gone.

He had found where Soo-im had kept them captive. And it had been easy, despite the time it had taken. It was like she wanted him to find them, like she was leaving hints for him.

And when he got there, to the abandoned basement where they had been held, he understood why.

They were dead, all of them. Each killed with a single bullet to the head.

Ward had stood there in silence. He didn't know how long, but he knew that it had felt like hours. Looking at each one of them, knowing that he had failed them. Knowing that he would kill Soo-im, by any means necessary.

He had two missions now. One of justice, one of revenge. He would set his family name right, and he would kill Soo-im. And if those two missions became intertwined, then that was fine with him.

After he had seen what she had done, after he had decided what his path forward would be, he had felt... empty. He knew, on an intellectual level, what he felt. But it was like his insides had been scooped out and replaced with a yawning abyss.

They deserved better, was the only thing he could think.

And now I can't even bury them.

He would tell the CIA what Soo-im had done. They would go to America, just to keep the Oh sisters alive. And then he would finish what Soo-im had started.

And everything would end in the only way it could.

Notes:

Finally, it's here. I know a lot of you had been waiting for this moment, and I hope it lived up to your expectations.

Looking to the future, I am realizing that there is still a LOT of story to tell. I hope you're all strapped in for the long haul, because we aren't even really near the end yet. I'm so happy to share this story and these moments with all of you. Thank you for being such wonderful readers!

Chapter 27

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In-kyung could tell that something had changed, but she couldn't tell what it was. Yes, Do-il was stronger than before. He was walking by himself and was able to do simple things for himself. But it wasn't just him. In-joo seemed different as well. It could just be because Do-il was finally awake and about, but if In-kyung had to guess, she would say it was something else.

In-joo seemed lighter. And Do-il, bizarrely, seemed... hopeful? That wasn't a word that In-kyung would have ever used to describe him, but in this case, it seemed to be accurate.

Jong-ho was watching the two of them with a secretive smile, like he knew a secret that the rest of them weren't in on yet. In-kyung made a note to ask him about it later. He was good at seeing things in people, but he never went out of the way to share what he found. Quietly perceptive. Just one of many things she loved about him.

The strange, uplifted atmosphere was shattered though, by the arrival of Ward.

He didn't come crashing through the door, and he certainly didn't announce his presence, but they were all immediately aware of it anyway. He didn't look like he had been in a fight, but his face was ashen. In-kyung wasn't sure what had happened, but she felt a sudden and inexplicable pang of pity for the man. What kind of life had he lived? Had he even really lived a life at all?

She had to remind herself that though his circumstances had been challenging, he had chosen his own actions. He had paved his own path.

"What is it?" In-hye asked from the table where she sat with Hyo-rin. Both of the girls were looking at Ward with wide, concerned eyes.

Ward glanced at them, but he barely seemed to even notice their presence. In-kyung felt a moment of fear and she wondered what he was going to say—or do. What had he seen? Was she just imagining things?

But no. If In-hye saw it, then it was there. In-kyung had learned that a long time ago.

"They're dead," Ward said. His voice was so quiet that In-kyung could barely hear it. "All of them. She killed them."

In-kyung's stomach sank. She knew what he was talking about. It was something that she had known was possible, but it seemed so... unnecessary and brazen. What made Soo-im think that she would get away with killing multiple CIA agents who had been on a mission?

Maybe it was as simple as the fact that Soo-im just didn't care anymore. She didn't care if they caught her eventually. She just wanted to burn down as much of their world as possible.

No one said anything. They were all just staring at Ward, who wore an expression that none of them had ever seen on him before.

"Maybe I should have expected it. Maybe I should have seen it coming."

No one moved to comfort him. In-kyung felt strangely guilty about that. But what did he expect? He had tried to tear their lives apart. He had never done anything other than act antagonistically to them.

He looked up and In-kyung saw that his eyes looked raw. It was the face of a man who knew that at this point, he had nothing left to lose. And that thought scared In-kyung.

"We're going to America," he said. "I've arranged passage there. There should be no issues. Once we're there, you'll be safe for now. I know how much of an upheaval this is, but it's for the best. For both you and me."

In-kyung was amazed that in the face of everything, he was still holding tightly onto his mission. But it only made sense. After all, at this point, what did he still have left?

"Are you certain?" Do-il asked. "Because if you're wrong, we're the ones who will pay the price."

"I'm a lot of things. But I am not one to walk back on a deal," said Ward. "I've learned that's a one-way ticket to a knife in your back." His eyes flashed. "Which is something that Soo-im is about to learn from me."

In-kyung thought back to the documents and box that she had been given by Nam Woo-jin. He had seemed sure that it would help them with Jack Ward. In-kyung was no longer sure that the man was her enemy, but she still didn't trust him.

"We can be ready to leave as soon as you are," Do-il said. "All you have to do is tell us where to go."

In-kyung glanced at Jong-ho. He was following the conversation without saying anything. In fact, Jong-ho had spent most of his time back in Korea simply following other people's decisions. In-kyung felt guilty about that. He was loyal. So loyal, in fact, that he would never even think about questioning what they were doing. It just wasn't in his nature.

Ward looked frozen. Not by indecision, but by the fact that his brain still seemed to be processing what had happened. In-kyung had seen that expression before. She had seen it on the faces of people who had lost their homes in disasters, people who had lost family members and loved ones. This couldn't be the first time that agents had been killed under Ward's command. What made this time different?

She thought she knew. Because this time, it was personal. This was the first time that it would have happened in pursuit of his own familial goal. And that, more than anything else, was likely the thing weighing on him. If he hadn't been so insistent, if he hadn't pushed so much... then maybe they would still be alive.

She wondered if she should say something to him. They weren't exactly close. Would he welcome it? Or would he turn her away?

It was, at least, something to think about.

Ward glanced around. "Let's get moving," he said. "Because her trail ran cold. And I don't have any idea where she's going next."

In-kyung moved toward Jong-ho, so that they could start getting their meager possessions together. At least since they were heading back to America, everything they owned would already be there.

Strangely, though, Jong-ho was walking toward Do-il—to talk to him? They weren't quite friends, so In-kyung wondered what was on Jong-ho's mind. She decided to let him go without comment. If he wanted to share later, he would.

Jong-ho knew what had happened before anyone else had even noticed it. Maybe it was because he had seen it coming. Maybe it was because of the conversation he had shared with Do-il. It felt like a lifetime ago, but he was sure that his words had generated at least some kind of effect.

So when Do-il started heading back to the room that he had spent days recovering in, Jong-ho followed him.

Do-il noticed immediately, of course. He seemed to sigh a little when he saw Jong-ho behind him, before they even made it to the room. "You want to talk?" Do-il asked.

Jong-ho made every attempt to appear both polite and respectful. "Maybe. If you want to."

Do-il raised an eyebrow. "What makes you think I want to talk right now?" The words sounded harsh, but Jong-ho knew they weren't meant that way. So he just waited. Finally, Do-il's shoulders fell a little. "I'm sorry. That wasn't necessary. I can talk, if you'd like. Come in?"

Jong-ho stepped inside and closed the door behind him.

"I suppose you want to tell me 'I told you so,'" Do-il said.

Jong-ho shrugged. "Not exactly. I just thought you might want to..."

"How well do you think you know me?" Do-il asked skeptically.

"Not well," Jong-ho admitted. "But well enough to know that this was something you never intended."

"Say it," Do-il challenged. "If you already know."

Jong-ho raised his hands in a placating gesture "I'm not here to judge you or shame you. I don't know what the two of you said to each other. Or what you did. But I know that something between you and In-joo changed. I think it's for the better. And I think that's good."

"So then what do you want to talk about?"

Jong-ho paused before responding. He was aware of how strange the question would sound to Do-il, but it was a genuine question. "How are you feeling?"

"Physically?"

"You know that's not what I mean."

Do-il sighed. "Yes. You're right. I do know. But I'm not a child, either."

"No. But everyone needs a friend."

"Is that what we are? Friends?"

Jong-ho shrugged. "Who says that we can't be? I think we both could have a lot to learn from each other."

Do-il looked Jong-ho up and down. "It's strange. But I think you're right. If we had met under different circumstances, I think there's something that could be said for how different we are."

"Life tends to have other plans."

"I found that out a long time ago," said Do-il.

Jong-ho nodded. "Yeah. Seems like we all find it out sooner or later. You have changed though. Even in the little bit of time that you've known her. I'm not sure if you even know it, but I think I can say that if I would have tried to have this conversation with you a year ago, you wouldn't have been interested in speaking to me at all."

Do-il grinned. It was a strange expression for him, one that he hadn't worn very often throughout his life. It was starting to come out more and more. "It was In-joo, I think."

"The Oh sisters are different from the rest of the world, aren't they?"

Do-il seemed to consider that. Then, he said something that Jong-ho never expected to hear. "I was worried about In-hye."

It made sense, even if it came as a surprise. "She reminded you of yourself."

"She still does. I see how easy it would be for her to turn into me. And she can do better than that."

Jong-ho cocked his head. "I think that might have once been true. But you're not seeing the whole picture. Think about the person you were a year ago. Think about the person you are now. I think In-hye could be proud to say that she was like you."

Do-il sat down heavily. Jong-ho could see the man's thoughts storming inside his skull. It was obvious that Do-il had been wrestling with thoughts like this for a while. But some things couldn't be figured out on your own. Sometimes, no matter how strong you were, you still needed help.

"I just don't want her to make the same mistakes."

"She has something you never had," said Jong-ho.

Do-il looked at Jong-ho curiously. His question was obvious. He didn't need to say it.

"She has her sisters. And she has you."

Do-il considered that. Jong-ho could tell that the man had never really thought about it like that. But it was inarguable. Do-il had come a long way in just a year. He had opened up to people, something he had never even been in a position to do. He was able to talk now. Not just speak, but really talk to people.

Do-il finally smiled. "She has more than just her sisters and me."

Jong-ho didn't understand.

"She has you too."

There was no time to wait. In-joo knew they needed to leave as quickly as possible, but at the same time, she had no idea when they would be able to return to Korea. It felt surreal, leaving the country of her birth. The place she had lived her entire life. She hated the idea that she might not ever be able to return—but she refused to let herself focus on that thought. They would all find a way to return to where they needed to be.

For now, it was time to be anywhere else.

In-joo wasn't sure if she believed that America was the answer, but at this point, it seemed like the only way to ensure their continued survival. Fleeing there felt a lot like putting a band-aid on a bullet wound, but they could solve the Soo-im problem later. Her first priority was making sure that the people she cared about were safe.

The kiss had changed everything.

She had known, of course. They both had known. They had both even talked about it, though not in so many words. But the physical action had provided the kind of proof that couldn't be ignored. And like that, her whole world had shifted.

It had been so long since she had shared a connection with someone like this. So long that she had forgotten how it felt. Her view of existence had simultaneously expanded and contracted—there was both more and less of the world. She didn't know how else to explain it, even though she knew her thoughts were jumbled and nearly nonsensical.

Choi Do-il. Once she would have never even thought about being with someone like him. The thought wouldn't have ever crossed her mind, simply because it would have seemed too far outside the realm of possibility.

But now, as they got on the chartered flight that would take them to America, she reached out and took his hand. Not for any reason in particular other than the fact that she could. That was enough for her.

And he accepted it. It was a small gesture, but she knew that for him, displaying something as simple as that in front of other people could feel like a Herculean effort.

He was making the effort anyway. For her.

There was still a lot for them to talk about, but for now, this was enough. They were alive, they were on the move, and they were heading to America. In-kyung had told her stories of what it was like there, but In-joo had a hard time imagining exactly what In-kyung described. Maybe it was because In-joo's whole life had been so focused on her immediate surroundings. Maybe it was because she had never had reason to dream of ever going somewhere else.

Now it was her life.

"This feels strange," she said.

Do-il knew what she meant as soon as she said it. "Because this time, you're here."

"I don't mean to keep bringing up the past..."

"But our lives are so entwined with our pasts. It's okay. You don't need to not say things just to spare my feelings. I know what I did. And I can only try and make up for it."

"You don't need to make up for doing what you thought was the right thing."

"No. But I need to do a better job of understanding what the right thing is."

She looked at him proudly as they found their seats. Once, he would have never admitted something like that. Once, he had barely been willing to speak. She considered herself fortunate for having the patience to not give up. To stick around.

Nothing was ever perfect. And she knew what some people might say when it came to the two of them. Their bond was forged in trauma. He had never treated her the way she had deserved. He didn't know how to be in a relationship, and she was only with him for his looks and his money.

She could understand at least, how people might think such things. But they didn't know. They hadn't been there. They couldn't see all the individual little moments that added up to the place that the two of them had now reached.

"I don't want this to be the last time I'm in Korea," said In-joo. It was something that had been on her mind since they had decided to leave.

"It won't be. We'll find a way back. Because—"

"Because there's always a way." In-joo knew what he was going to say. And she believed every word. Any doubt that she may have once harbored was now gone.

The plane began to move and she leaned back in the chair, waiting for liftoff. Soon, she knew that she would be able to look down and see the entire world moving below her, the landscape transforming into a miniature version of the way she normally saw it.

In-joo wondered if that was how Park Jae-sang and Sang-a had seen the world. If it had appeared so small to them that everyone else just seemed to be a toy in comparison. The thought was frightening. To lose perspective on the world so drastically... In-joo knew that she would never let it happen to her. Whatever it took, she vowed that she would make sure to never lose sight of where she had come from and who she was.

She looked at Do-il, who was calmly staring ahead. Despite his flaws and any mistakes that he had made, he had never seemed to lose sight of the humanity all around him. Maybe that was what had drawn her to him in the first place. There had been a kind of gentleness with how he had treated her. Even before they had become close, he had always looked at her as... a person.

In-joo squeezed his hand. He looked at her in surprise, but he didn't say anything. Neither did she.

Outside the window, the ground began to get smaller and smaller as the distance between the plane and the earth increased. America awaited. The future was frightening and sure to be fraught with danger. But In-joo could hear her sisters' voices. She could hear the sound of Hyo-rin gasping in delight as she pointed out the city below them.

And she could hear, though it was so quiet that it was nearly unnoticeable, the sound of Do-il's steady, even breathing.

In-joo knew that a new chapter in their lives was about to begin. She didn't know if they would find safety.

But whatever they found, they wouldn't find it alone. That was enough for her.

Notes:

Thank you for reading! I sort of see this as the end of the first major arc of the story. Soon they will be in America, but we are far from the end of it all.

A few announcements-I do plan on taking a few days off next week to work on other obligations. This is a good natural break in the story to have a bit of a pause. It should only last about a week though, so don't worry! I'll be back soon.

The other announcement is that I may be changing my username in the near future. If I do, I'll be sure to let everyone know so that in case you follow my username, you'll know to update things so that you follow my new one.

And finally, I'm considering opening some kind of social media account to let me interact with people a little more. I could answer questions or things like that. If there's any interest, or if I just get bored, I might do it. No promises though!

As always, thank you for everything! I'll see everyone very soon.

Chapter 28

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Ko Min-jun was scared, which was not something that he said lightly. But he could tell that something was wrong. He didn't blame the Oh sisters for not telling him what they were doing. They certainly didn't owe him anything, not after what they had gone through because of him.

But he wanted to help them. He at least wanted to know that they were okay. And now, as far as he could tell, they were fleeing Korea.

Yes, he was part of Interpol, but there was only so much he could do. His hands were tied by red tape and legal procedure, something that Soo-im, Ward, and Do-il weren't concerned with. Min-jun had tried reaching out to the CIA but they had rebuffed his calls. And Min-jun's superiors weren't letting him take his investigation any further.

He had heard about what had happened. It had made the news, despite Jeongran's attempts to suppress it. You couldn't assault a massive, high-end apartment building and not have it make the news. As soon as Min-jun had seen what had happened, he knew who had been behind it.

His only hope was that they had all made it out okay.

There was no longer anything he could do... for now. If they reached out to him, he would help. He felt obligated now. If he hadn't arrested In-joo in the first place, none of it would have ever happened. It didn't matter that he had been lied to. He should have known. It was his job to know.

If they died, he didn't know if he'd be able to forgive himself.

The strangest part of the whole situation was the way the CIA was refusing to respond to him. If one of their agents (Ward) was in danger, then it would make sense that they would want to know. But even though the call was coming from South Korea's Interpol branch, they seemed to want to have nothing to do with it.

It didn't sit right with Min-jun.

And as a result, his plan was to reach out to them as soon as he could, but for now, for whatever reason, they weren't returning his calls. He assumed it was just because they were busy. He hoped it was just because they were busy. At this point, they had certainly landed and disembarked.

Had something happened?

They couldn't have flown into a trap... right?

The more he thought about it, the more it weighed on his mind. The Oh sisters were too good for this world. Even Choi Do-il, who had lived so much of his life as a criminal, didn't deserve what was happening.

It was all moving too fast. Why was it that the good people were the ones who always found themselves crushed by the weight of existence?

Min-jun believed in what he was doing. He still did, even after what he had seen. But there were doubts there now. His encounter with the Oh sisters had changed the way he thought about things.

It seemed like that was what they did, everywhere they went.

He hoped that this wasn't the end of their journey.

In-joo had heard about America from In-kyung. She had seen pictures of it in the news, in magazines, on television. But despite all of that, she was still surprised by just how... large everything was.

It wasn't like South Korea was known for being small. Seoul was a major metropolitan area, and there were plenty of heavily developed areas all throughout the country. There was just something about the way America felt, even from the moment the plane touched down.

Los Angeles was everywhere. There was no other way to say it. It sprawled, and every inch of it was possessed by a feeling that she had never experienced and was unable to properly describe. It made her nervous—and not only because her English was far from where she wished it was.

In-kyung and Jong-ho were both more prepared, but that made sense. They had lived together in America for a year. To them, this must have felt like a relief. In-joo wished that she could share in their feeling.

One of the things that amazed her the most was how easy it was to accomplish things if you had money. Things that had once seemed out of reach were now right within her grasp. Before, relocating to another country would have been an impossible task, even with months or years of planning. Now, it was something they could do with almost no notice at all.

The first thing Do-il had done upon landing was find a place for them to stay. There was no shortage of options, but as always, he seemed to have found the perfect choice in advance. His primary criteria was clear—the thing he cared about the most was safety.

In-kyung and Jong-ho already had a place to stay, but Do-il insisted that they were in the place. This way, they could count on unified security measures and the fact that if anything went wrong, they would all be close by.

In-joo watched Do-il with admiration. She knew why he was like this. Despite the mystery that he presented to the rest of the world, she had learned to see through him. He had never had a choice other than to be this way. As a child, he had been alone. And as an adult, he had been surrounded by people he could never trust.

That meant he had needed to develop all the skills necessary to survive on his own. From the time he had been a child. In-joo, of course, had needed to do the same thing, but there had been one thing separating her from Do-il.

She had never been alone.

When the door to her room shut behind her, she was surprised to see that he was still with her. She had expected that he would just drop her luggage and go his own way, but instead, he had entered behind her.

She knew that he could tell she was surprised. She felt like she needed to defend the way she felt. "I just thought you'd be tired after the flight..."

He set her suitcase down. "I am tired. But I also didn't think you'd want to be alone here. If you'd like, I can leave."

"No!" she said hastily. "I didn't mean it like that. I'm happy you're here."

It took her a moment to realize that he was making fun of her. She scowled at him.

Do-il walked across the room and pulled back the curtains that were over the windows. It was late. The flight had been long and the timezone changes had hit all of them hard. The stars were hard to see in the hazy LA sky, but the moon shone through, just as bright as it had always been.

"It feels like a new beginning," said In-joo.

"It's not," Do-il said, still looking out the window at the Los Angeles skyline. "It's just a temporary stop. We'll be back home eventually."

In-joo thought before answering. She wasn't sure how he would react to what she was thinking, but she also knew that she didn't want to keep her thoughts to herself. "What if I don't want to? What if I just want to go somewhere and start over?"

Do-il looked at her calmly. Even exhausted from their ordeal, even worn out from the flight, he cut a striking figure in front of the open window, his outline backlit by the moon. "Then that's what we'll do," he said.

And that was all he needed to say. There was no need for grand, sweeping gestures or flowery language. It wasn't his way.

It made his words mean more.

She crossed the room, stepping through a beam of moonlight to stand in front of him. He looked down at her, and she felt safer standing there with him than she had felt in a very long time. The way he looked at her, the way he spoke to her—it made her feel like she could accomplish anything.

"Kiss me," she said.

He didn't hesitate. He reached out and encircled her with his arms, pulling her close to him. Then he did as she had asked, kissing her gently, sending her heart soaring into the night sky, higher than even the moon could dare to dream.

"We waited too long," she said when she was able to speak again.

"I know."

"We spent so long thinking about what was smart that we never thought about..."

"What we wanted," Do-il finished. "But that isn't true for me. I thought about what I wanted. I just convinced myself that it couldn't be."

"Even you can be wrong sometimes."

"I was glad to discover that," Do-il said with a small smile. "The surprises never cease."

He was right about that much. Every moment they shared now felt like a gift she had never expected.

"Will you stay with me tonight?" In-joo asked. "At least until I fall asleep."

Do-il nodded.

In-joo felt strangely peaceful, even with everything they were facing. There was still no end in sight, but at least for now, she could rest easy. He was here with her, and that was enough.

There were some things that money just couldn't buy.

In-kyung, on the other hand, was not feeling peaceful, even though she was with Jong-ho.

"What are we going to do?" she muttered. She hadn't even managed to start unpacking. She had just collapsed on the bed. Jong-ho had calmly sat down next to her and was listening to her lament their situation. "What if she follows us? What if she doesn't follow us? I don't want to live the rest of my life in fear."

"I don't think you have to worry about the second one," Jong-ho said. "I think you can trust her to follow us."

"That doesn't make me feel any better," In-kyung sighed.

"What would make you feel better?"

"Nothing. At least, I can't think of anything. This is a mess."

"The documents that Nam Woo-jin gave you. Have you tried to crack them?"

In-kyung had spent some time looking at them, but had been unable to discern anything. It was all coded, and it was in no code that she had ever seen. She knew she should ask Do-il, but things had been happening so fast that there just hadn't been time. "I tried," she said, feeling defeated, and letting her tone finish the rest of her statement. It didn't sit well with her, and he seemed to know that.

"I've never known you to quit until you've exhausted all your options," Jong-ho said. "And even then, you don't always walk away."

"I know. You're right."

"I'm scared too, you know," Jong-ho said, looking down at her. "I wasn't cut out for this kind of life. The only thing I ever wanted was to live quietly."

"And me."

"What?"

"There were two things you wanted. You wanted to live quietly, and you wanted me." In-kyung gave him a playful grin.

Jong-ho laughed. "Once again, you're right. You have a way of noticing things that no one else does, you know that?"

In-kyung wished that she could join him in his lightheartedness. But all she could think of was the fact that they had no idea what was going to come next. Flying to America felt like a stopgap measure at best. What were they supposed to do now?

And what happened when she didn't have the answers?

"I already know what you're thinking. And you don't have to think it. Have a little faith in yourself. I do."

"Yeah, well, you're a little biased, aren't you?"

"I guess I am. But that doesn't mean I'm wrong."

In-kyung hoped that he was right. But as she turned toward him to wrap her arms around him, she knew that in the moment, it didn't matter. They had each other. They were alive. The morning could wait. The sun would still be there when they woke up.

Probably.

In-hye sat next to Hyo-rin and stared out at Los Angeles. She felt lost. She felt like she was drowning. And she couldn't even begin to imagine what Hyo-rin was feeling.

"Remember when we could go anywhere we wanted? When the only thing we had to worry about was what we would paint next?" In-hye kept her voice as calm as possible. She didn't want to upset Hyo-rin anymore. But at the same time, In-hye couldn't keep this inside herself any longer. She needed to talk about it with someone.

"You don't need to treat me like I'm going to fall apart, you know," said Hyo-rin. "I can be strong too."

In-hye looked at her friend and felt a moment of shame. She had been treating Hyo-rin like she was made out of glass. And that simply wasn't fair.

"I'm sorry. I'm still learning. I'm trying."

"I know. It's okay."

In-hye reached out and placed her hand on top of Hyo-rin's. "Whatever happens next, we'll be together."

"I don't want anything else to happen."

"I know. But something is always going to happen. All we can do is make sure that we're not alone when it does."

"I wish we could paint again," said Hyo-rin. "At least then things would feel normal."

They hadn't been able to do much over the last few days due to the travel, the speed at which everything had been happening, and the fact that they had been hiding. Even now, they didn't have their supplies. A lot had been left behind in Korea.

"Once things settle down, we can have our things sent to us," In-hye said. She didn't know if that was true, but she didn't see why it couldn't be. They were rich now. They could make things like that happen.

"I'm afraid it won't be the same," said Hyo-rin.

In-hye thought about that. Strangely, it was something that she hadn't considered. She had been so worried about surviving that the idea of things being the same had fled her completely.

"I don't think it will be the same," she said eventually. "Because by then, we'll be different people. But the two of us are already different from when we sat down and started this conversation, aren't we?"

"Things change too fast," Hyo-rin said in a scared voice. "Don't change."

In-hye understood that much at least. "I won't," she reassured her friend. "For you, I won't."

Below them, the Los Angeles traffic marched forward, cold and uncaring, refusing to recognize the two girls who were watching it, both desperate for some sort of assurance that they still mattered to the world.

"What do you mean you want me to drop it? This is the closest I've ever been!"

Ward was pacing the floor of his room, his temper already through the roof. He didn't understand how Langley could even consider telling him to drop his mission. It was absurd.

"No, you listen!" he shouted. "Jeongran is back, and if I work alongside the Oh family, they'll get me what I need. They'll get us what we—" He paused while the voice on the phone continued to give him orders that bordered on nonsense. "That's insane. I brought them to America to keep them safe. We're in Los Angeles, and you want us to come to Langley? For what? Didn't you just tell me the mission is over?"

He couldn't take it anymore. He hung up and tossed the phone on the bed, standing in the center of his room breathing hard, his face flushed from his anger. What the hell were they going on about? This was the chance to make up for the mistakes of the past. It would fit right alongside the Jeongran news that the Oh sisters had broken in the first place. This was their chance!

But for some reason, the agency was refusing to cooperate. He knew that his mission report had been far from flawless. There had been casualties, and he took responsibility for that. Even so, he didn't see how that precluded a counter-operation. They even knew who had done it! Go Soo-im was now an international criminal. What difference did it make if they were in America now? Yes, the CIA wasn't technically allowed to run operations here, but that hadn't stopped them before.

Ward was one man. He could get it done. He could...

Nothing it was a direct order. He would need to check in with headquarters again and work out the details, and then he would need to talk to the Oh sisters and Do-il to see what their plan was. Would they even want to cooperate with the CIA after everything that had happened?

Part of Ward wanted Soo-im to come after them right now. At this point, he had no doubt that she would eventually make a move. She was too obsessed, and she had promised her followers one thing. Ward wondered what Do-il had planned—if he did have anything planned.

Either way, something about the phone call with Langley didn't sit right with him. He knew that this had been his crusade, but there had been plenty of people on his side. What could have caused things to change so fast?

Ward turned and caught his reflection in a mirror near the bed. He had purposefully chosen the smallest room on the floor. He didn't require anything large or anything extravagant.

His image in the glass looked haggard. He knew he needed sleep. But his brain wouldn't let him slow down yet. He needed to work out his next move. The chessboard felt like it was shrinking, and he didn't have many pieces left.

Survival wasn't good enough. He needed the money. He needed Soo-im's death. Only then, would he be able to rest. Because only then, would justice be done.

Outside, the city of Los Angeles continued to buzz through the night. Jack Ward barely noticed. There was too much that he needed to consider.

Notes:

And we're back! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, which I see as the start of the second major arc.

Thank you for being patient and waiting for me. We have lots more story to go! I plan on updating regularly for the foreseeable future, even through the holidays.

I WILL be changing my name, either later today or tomorrow. My new AO3 name will be cyberpunk_neverland. I chose this name to fit with my other k-related social media.

Speaking of social media, I updated my bio and put some links in there. If you ever want to reach out you can always contact me at one of those.

I'll see you all very soon!

Chapter 29

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Days passed, and nothing happened.

In-joo was waiting for Ward to say something. It was clear that he had something on his mind that he wasn't sharing with them. She wasn't sure if it was because he was uncomfortable about it or if he hadn't yet decided if he even should tell them, but either way, she knew it was coming.

That was fine with her. In the meantime, both In-joo and her sisters planned on enjoying whatever moments of peace they could find. It felt like it had been ages since they had just been able to live normal lives. And while this was far from a normal life, it was, at the very least, a step in the right direction.

Being in America almost felt like being on a vacation to In-joo. Strangely, since she had taken over for her aunt, she hadn't been on a vacation, even though she now had the money for it. Maybe that was just another downside to living this far into the upper class. You had all the money you wanted, but rarely enough time to get away with it.

That wouldn't last forever though. When this was finished, she would make time. For herself and for Do-il. She felt like she was learning important lessons about what it meant to be alive—lessons that she was learning due to the clashing perspectives that she had been able to have throughout her life.

She was learning that she was more similar to Do-il than she had ever expected. They possessed obvious differences—most specifically in their personalities. But the way they had been raised was not so different. And now that she belonged to the same sort of class that he had spent so long living in, she was able to see his point of view better than ever.

But she could tell that he was trying to hide the fact that he was worried. And she wanted him to know that he didn't have to.

"You can talk to me," she said one day as they were driving down the Los Angeles freeway. They had been driving in relative quiet, which to some may have seemed uncomfortable. To her, it felt peaceful. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"Ward is keeping secrets from us," he said without hesitation. "I don't like it."

"Have you tried asking him?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Because I don't like him."

Well, he was being honest, that much was clear.

"I think we might have to move past that," In-joo said lightly. She didn't disagree with Do-il, but they did still need to be able to work with the man. Especially if he was keeping something from them.

"We're in a corner, and he knows it. We can't leave him, because then he'll come after us and the deal will be off. We can't dictate terms because we can't fight the whole CIA. He has us right where he wants us."

In-joo knew that Do-il would never sit lightly while that was the case. But she could also tell that he wasn't done talking, so she simply waited for him to explain what he was thinking.

"We don't have many American allies, if any. Especially since I left Jeongran. Most of my contacts were tied to them, and I never planned on returning to this life. We're alone here. But we're not finished."

"What did you do?"

"I've started to move my money. I also still have power of attorney over In-hye's accounts, and I started to move her portion as well."

In-joo looked at Do-il with alarm. "You did what? Why would you do that? Did you talk to her?"

"Not yet. And if she is angry with me over it, then I accept that, and we can talk about it later. But I did it because I want to make it as hard as possible for Ward to nail down all of our assets. I know what you're going to say. I know that our lives and our freedom are worth more than money right now. But I also wanted to take steps to secure our future."

"What did you do with the money?"

Do-il didn't look at her as he continued to drive, but she could tell that he was very proud of himself. "I did what I do best. I started to set up a series of paper companies that appear legitimate and are funded legitimately. And then, over time, I'm going slowly create a pool of slush funds from the assets used to sustain each company. That way, if Ward discovers one of them, he won't find everything. I should have done it earlier, honestly. I should have done it as soon as we knew he was onto us. There just never seemed to be a good enough time to do it."

In-joo could see what he was trying to do. It made perfect sense. But she also knew that when In-hye heard about what had happened, she wouldn't be happy—purely from an idealistic standpoint. In-hye didn't like when adults made decisions for her, even if the decision made was a good one.

"She won't like it," In-joo said. "But I understand why you did it."

"I know," said Do-il. "I just..." He stopped speaking, which was unusual for him. He normally spoke with such confidence.

"What is it?"

"It isn't that I thought she couldn't handle it. I know just what she is capable of handling. It's more that I want her to be able to live the life of a normal teenager. Even though I know that by this point, that's impossible, part of me still has that hope for her."

In-joo was touched by his words. She knew that he cared about In-hye—his actions had always shown that. But now, he talked about her as warmly as he might if she was his own sibling. "She knows that," In-joo said. "And she'll understand that. But she might... be angry with you anyway."

"I can live with that," Do-il said. His eyes were thoughtful, though they didn't leave the road. "I've never thought about it before, but this must be how parents feel. I'm not sure if I've ever known just how difficult that can be."

He didn't say anything more than that, but In-joo knew what he was thinking. She could see it all over his face. His relationship with his own parents had always, for his entire life, been tenuous at best. She knew, on some level, that he regretted that. She wondered just how deep that regret went.

"In any case, it doesn't help us with our current situation. But it will help us in the future. We'll need to do the same thing with your share of the money as well. It'll be a little more complicated on your end because of your aunt's company, but we can get it done. We just have to do it without Ward knowing."

In-joo didn't have any doubt in her mind that he would be able to do it. That was who he was. When he said he was going to do something, he simply did it. No obstacle was insurmountable. Was it stubbornness? Perhaps. That was a valid assessment of it. But she knew that it was more than stubbornness. It was his refusal to let the world get the better of him. It was a strange hopefulness that he refused to acknowledge, maybe that he didn't even see.

"We should talk to Ward," In-joo said finally.

"You're right. But I don't know if I should do that alone."

"Probably not. I don't think the hotel would like it if the two of you started a brawl in their suites."

Do-il took his eyes off the road for just a second to grin at her.

"No. I guess they probably wouldn't."

In-kyung had decided to take some time to be frivolous. Were there better ways to spend their time? Undoubtedly. But what was the point of all the struggling if they couldn't enjoy themselves? And anyway, she wanted to be with In-hye. Not accomplishing business, not talking about the fate of their money or their futures. Just being sisters.

And she had invited Hyo-rin too, because that girl needed a family. A real one. One that cared about her.

When they had been living in that tiny house, In-hye and In-kyung had never been able to go out and just buy clothing. It was never that simple when you were living on the scraps of paychecks that never seemed to go far enough. Now, though, things were different, and In-hye had turned out to have quite the eye for fashion. It wasn't a surprise, given her artistic talents, but it was nice to see.

It was also another reminder that she was growing up. That was a little harder to see, but it was something that In-kyung was coming to terms with. Slowly. Okay, she was trying at least.

One of the things that In-kyung noticed the most about her sister was how much she seemed to inhabit her own world with Hyo-rin. It was like the two of them existed in a bubble far away from everyone else. In-kyung couldn't help but feel a pang of loss as she watched Hyo-rin and In-hye attempt to decide which dress to try on next. They seemed to have their own private language, and could understand each other without words.

Had she ever been that close to In-hye? Maybe once, when In-hye had been younger. But those days seemed long gone, both in terms of time and what they had each gone through.

"You know, you don't have to decide," In-kyung spoke up. "You can just try on both of them."

In-hye glanced back at In-kyung. "You're right. Sometimes I think I just forget that I don't have to worry about money anymore. It's still a strange feeling."

In-kyung sighed in pretend relief. "Oh, you too? That's good. I was worried it was just me."

"I try to remind her," said Hyo-rin. "Sometimes, she even listens." The two girls grinned at each other before returning to their deliberations.

In-kyung was so glad that In-hye had found a friend like Hyo-rin. Even if the circumstances they had met under had been far from ideal, in the end, things had smoothed themselves out. In-hye had always struggled to be close with anyone her age, for a wide variety of reasons. Those barriers had faded away once she had Hyo-rin had gotten to know each other.

In-hye had always been an enigma. And it was true that she had made mistakes in the past. But she was a child. In-kyung couldn't fault her for what she had done, especially since In-hye had learned. And more than that, they were sisters. Some bonds couldn't be broken.

"This is the one," said In-hye, finally choosing a classical, tasteful black dress. It looked like it was designed for someone a little older, and it probably cost an obscene amount, but what difference did that make?

In-kyung smiled. "Tell me what you think." She watched as the two girls made their way to the dressing room, an attendant unlocking the door for them and allowing them in.

One of the best parts of being back in America was watching In-hye's reaction to it all. The girl had been traveling the world with Hyo-rin, but this was one place they hadn't come yet, for whatever reason. And it was certainly different from anything else they had seen. In-kyung had grown used to it during the year she had spent here, but it was interesting seeing In-hye coming to grips with a culture that was quite removed from the one that she had grown up in.

Of course, since they had returned to America, there hadn't been much time to spend out in the city. They had been in the hotel for most of the time, for safety reasons and because In-kyung didn't want to risk being ambushed by Soo-im on the street. But as days went by, they all began to realize that nothing was happening. That Soo-im hadn't followed them. And if she had, she wasn't doing anything about it yet.

In-kyung thought that would have made her feel better, but instead, it just gave her a kind of unease. She was left with too many questions. The documents from Nam Woo-jin, Soo-im's plan, whatever Ward thought he was going to do—all of these things were weighing on her mind. She was glad that In-hye was able to relax a little, but she wished that she could share the same feeling.

The fitting room door opened, revealing In-hye and Hyo-rin. In-hye was wearing the dress, which was so black that it seemed to swallow all the light that fell on it. "What do you think?" In-hye asked, her voice containing a hint of uncharacteristic nervousness.

In-kyung waited a moment to respond, and she suddenly realized that there was a tear in her eye, and she didn't know why. Something about the sight of In-hye...

Oh. That was it.

She was getting old.

"I think it's perfect," In-kyung said.

"I told you!" Hyo-rin beamed.

In-hye seemed satisfied. "Okay. Then I'll definitely get it." For a moment, she looked lost. "I just don't know where I'll ever wear it."

In-kyung wiped her eye. "You don't need to worry about that. There will be a time. I promise that."

In-hye looked doubtful, though her words didn't show it. "I would like that a lot."

In-kyung smiled to herself as her sister disappeared back into the dressing room so that she could change back into her regular clothing.

Where would they go next? There was still plenty of time left in the day, and none of them had any responsibilities right now. That was one thing that In-kyung was still not used to. Her whole life had been spent running from crisis to crisis, in pursuit of both a career and a livable wage. Once she had time to slow down with Jong-ho and study at a university, all the free time had felt strange to her. It still did.

She was ruminating on this when she started to become aware of the other people in the boutique. It wasn't a large store by any stretch, but as with many things in America, it was larger than what she had been used to in Korea. In either case, it was big enough that she hadn't been paying attention to the other customers, but it was small enough that she had just noticed that they seemed to be...

Watching her?

No, surely that was just her overactive imagination. Or maybe they thought she looked strange, speaking Korean in the middle of an American boutique. She had encountered people like that before with Jong-ho. America could be... unfriendly to foreigners.

It was certainly nothing. There was no reason for anyone to be watching her. But then again, hadn't these people entered shortly after her? Had she seen them do anything besides aimlessly wander the store? It seemed like they were together, but it also seemed like...

In-kyung realized that her heart rate had sped up and that her palms were now sweating a bit. She was overreacting. She knew she was overreacting.

But what if she wasn't?

Was this what the rest of her life would be like? Constantly wondering if she was being watched, if disaster was going to strike at any moment? She couldn't live like this. In-hye didn't deserve to live like this.

In-hye stepped out of the dressing room again, and In-kyung reached out and grasped her sister's arm. In-hye looked at her with alarm. "What's going on?"

"We're leaving," In-kyung said tightly. "Now."

It was clear from In-hye's expression that she had no idea what was going on. "But the dress..."

"We'll come back for it," In-kyung said.

In-hye seemed to at least recognize the urgency in her sister's voice, even if she didn't understand the reason. In-kyung had no plan, but she knew that if they moved quickly, and these people were actually watching them, it would throw them off.

In-hye nodded, though her eyes were wide and her fear was obvious. That was okay. In-kyung could explain later. Maybe they could all laugh about it later, once they were back at the hotel. They could laugh at her paranoia and how ridiculous the whole thing was.

But as they walked out the front door, In-kyung knew that wouldn't be happening. Because the trio of Americans who had caught her attention in the store were all individually starting to make their way to the exit.

In-kyung went for her phone, and called Jong-ho's number. He picked up on the second ring.

"Where are you?" she asked.

He must have been able to tell that she was scared, because he didn't waste any time with questions or niceties. "At the hotel. Are you okay?"

"I don't know. We need to be picked up."

They didn't have a car yet. They had the money for one, but so far, they had been relying on Do-il or hired drivers to get places. And now, she didn't feel comfortable waiting for another car.

"It's LA. I can't get there immediately. Find a public place, text me where you are, and don't go anywhere. I'll be there as soon as I can. Are you safe?"

She knew that he was right. If they stayed in public, nothing could happen. But who was following them? Why were they even being followed? "Safe enough. But we need to leave. I'll see you soon. Jong-ho, I love you."

"I love you too. Don't worry. It's going to be alright."

In-hye and Hyo-rin were both following In-kyung closely, their posture making their fear and confusion visible. In-kyung could explain to them later.

For once, she wished that she had been wrong. It wasn't often that happened. Because when she glanced over her shoulder, as nonchalantly as she could manage, she saw that the three strangers were still there. Two men, a woman. Dressed in nondescript clothes, walking apart, moving through the other pedestrians like water...

But clearly following her.

It's starting again.

It's too soon.

I'm just not ready.

Notes:

Regular updates, like I promised.

And the trouble begins again...

The second arc will be the final arc of the story, but it is only just beginning. Thank you for coming along on this journey with me! I'll be changing my name to cyberpunk_neverland very soon, in case people need to update bookmarks. Please enjoy and look forward to more!

Chapter 30

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Jong-ho was gone by the time Do-il and In-joo arrived back at the suites. They didn't know why, but neither of them was worried about it. Their primary concern at that moment was speaking to Ward. Do-il wanted to do it before he changed his mind, which was something that could happen at any moment when he was interacting with Ward.

His intense dislike for the man was reasonable. But he knew it was something he was going to have to get over. It was just hard for him to push past the fact that Ward had attempted to kidnap In-joo's sister and had actively been trying to corral them all into custody at one point. All for purely selfish reasons.

There was another reason he didn't care for the man too, but that one was harder to admit. It was because when he looked at Jack Ward, he saw the kind of man that he could have become. The kind of man, that once upon a time, he had been. It wasn't something that he liked to think back on.

The idea that he had almost tossed In-joo aside, simply to use her as a stepping stone toward money just didn't sit well with him.

Now, it was a reminder. A reminder of the kind of person he didn't want to be.

Ward, strangely, seemed to be expecting them when they knocked on his door. "I imagine you have some things you want to talk about," he said. He sounded tired.

"Do you have some things you want to tell us about?"

"Saying that I want to might be putting it a little strongly. But you're not wrong. Come in."

Do-il was once again surprised by the man's insistence on choosing a room this small. He could have had any suite on the floor. But he chose something that could barely comfortably hold two people. Perhaps it was a symptom of his military background.

Perhaps it was something else.

Ward closed the door behind them and gestured to a table in the corner that had two small seats. "Please, sit down."

Do-il took the offered chair. "I think I speak for the rest of our group when I say that it's been fairly clear that you're not telling us everything."

Ward didn't deny it, but he didn't give a straight answer either. "I've never told you everything. What makes this time any different?"

"Because we fled our country for safety. And now if you're keeping things from us, it could be putting us all in danger. That's not acceptable to me."

Ward crossed his arms and stared at Do-il. But he didn't deny what Do-il had just said, and his facial expression didn't change.

In-joo finally spoke. "We're scared. Or at least, I am. Is that what you want to hear? I know it feels like we're still enemies, but it doesn't have to be that way. We're working together now. If you want your money, then you need to keep us alive. And the best way to do that is..."

"Is by making sure we're on the same page. I get it."

"Then what's the problem here?" Do-il asked.

"Just trying to hold onto some old habits without meaning to," Ward said. "But something is wrong. I contacted the agency when we got here so that I could tell them what had happened. And they told me to drop everything. That the mission was over."

Do-il felt cold. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I don't know. I've been thinking about it ever since, but I can't figure it out. I know that what I was trying to do wasn't exactly agency priority, but it would be good optics at the very least. And that's something that they've needed for years."

Do-il could see what Ward meant by that, but he could also now see why Ward had kept this from them. It might not have been out of a desire to keep them in the dark. It could have just been because he didn't want to muddy the waters any further. "Even with what Soo-im did to your team?"

"You can say it," Ward said quietly. "She killed them."

"And even still?"

"Even still. I've been trying to work an angle that explains their apparent lack of interest, but I can't figure out how this would benefit them."

In Ward's experience, the answer to that question was usually money, but in this case, it didn't add up. He didn't like that. If you could tell what someone was trying to gain, you could usually tell what they were going to do next. "So what are you doing about it?"

"Right now? Nothing. They want me to come in. And they want you to come with me. But Langley is on the other side of the country, and I'm not sure that's a good idea right now."

In-joo looked alarmed at the thought. Do-il placed a comforting hand on her knee under the table. "We're not going anywhere right now. Not until we have more information. It's possible that they're just looking for debriefing on the situation but..."

"But neither of us really believes that," Ward finished.

"I don't know if I'm ready to believe that they want to harm us either," Do-il said. "Because I don't see any reason that they would do that. We're nothing to them."

Finally, In-joo spoke. "That can't be true. If we were nothing to them, then they wouldn't have given Ward that order. There's something that we aren't seeing."

Do-il and Ward both turned to look at her. She was right. The proof was right there. Somehow, they did matter to the CIA. Not just Ward, but the organization as a whole. Do-il didn't have any agency contacts. If he did, he wouldn't have trusted them anyway. It didn't seem like a good time to be counting on them for anything.

He did, however, know someone who might be able to shed a little light on the situation.

"I'm going to make a phone call," he said to Ward. "Thank you for sharing this with us. If I learn anything, I'll let you know."

"Be careful who you talk to," Ward said. "They could be listening to anyone."

"I don't think they'll be listening to this person. But I appreciate the warning." He stood from his chair, and In-joo followed a moment later. He turned to leave without saying anything else.

Just before they left the room, In-joo stopped behind him. "Thank you," she said to Ward. "I can't imagine how hard this is for you."

And then she continued after Do-il out into the hallway without giving Ward a chance to respond. The door shut before she spoke again to Do-il. "Who are you going to talk to?" she asked.

"Ko Min-jun. He's been trying to reach me, but there never seemed to be a good time. He might know something more." It made sense. The man was an Interpol agent. If anyone had the ability to learn anything from this mess, it was him.

"Do you trust him?" In-joo had always seemed to trust him. Do-il, on the other hand, had been less agreeable. Probably because his first impression of the man was that he had arrested In-joo on charges that seemed ridiculous at best.

"More than I trust Ward. And more than I trust most people in a position like that. I suppose, at the very least, I trust him enough to see if he knows anything about this."

Do-il felt more uneasy than before. What Ward had told him was unsettling. The CIA had a reason for everything they did. It was a well-known fact. If they wanted Ward to drop the mission, then it wasn't just random chance.

"When does it all end?" In-joo asked in a quiet voice.

It was a good question. It was a question that Do-il was only just starting to let himself think about. Was there any ending? Was there a way to break the cycle of greed and violence that they seemed trapped in? Some days, it felt like the only way out was to give their enemies what they wanted.

But Do-il refused to accept that and he refused to fall into that trap of thinking. There would be a better way. There always was.

He didn't answer her. He didn't want to give her a meaningless response, nor did he want to lie to her. Instead, as they headed back to his suite, he said nothing. He would let his phone call to Min-jun dictate what they did next. After that, he would have a better idea of what they were dealing with.

Unless, of course, Interpol was as in the dark as he was. If that were the case, then he would be flying blind in a foreign country. The thought was unnerving. His biggest fear now was that he was the smallest fish in a pond so big that he couldn't even find the boundaries.

The game kept getting more complicated. And he needed answers.

"I see them," Jong-ho said once he arrived and In-kyung, In-hye, and Hyo-rin were in the car. It was a rental car, and it wasn't anything spectacular, but at that moment, In-kyung wouldn't have cared if she had been riding inside a bucket of rust. "Who are they?"

"I don't know," In-kyung said through clenched teeth. "But I am so tired of this. Why is this our lives now? When do we get to just be regular people?"

"I'm starting to wonder the same thing," Jong-ho muttered, as he glanced in the rearview window and swerved around another car.

In-kyung could see that the people who had been watching her in the boutique had made every effort to follow them on the road as well. It did seem that they hadn't expected her to get in a car so quickly, which had gotten them a little space, but whoever her shadows were, they were good. They had made up for any lost time and hadn't lost sight of Jong-ho yet.

In-hye spoke up from the back seat. Her voice was nervous, though she was clearly trying to remain calm, perhaps for Hyo-rin's sake. "In-kyung, who are they? What's going on?"

"I don't know. I'm sorry, In-hye. But I thought it looked like they were watching us and... it looks like I was right. I don't want to put you or Hyo-rin at risk. I have to do what's best for all of us."

"I know. It's okay. Thank you, In-kyung."

That surprised In-kyung. She hadn't expected In-hye to thank her, and it left In-kyung at a loss for words.

"They're gaining on us," said Jong-ho. "But I can't tell if they know that we've seen them yet."

In-kyung wished that wasn't the case, but she knew the truth. They had seen her panic in the store. They had to know.

"Is it Jeongran?" In-hye asked suddenly.

Hyo-rin let out a sound that was a mix between a cry and a gulp. "Why can't they just leave us alone? My mother is dead. It should be over by now. It should be..."

In-kyung's heart hurt for Hyo-rin. She had been through so much. It wasn't fair. There was no reason why the girl should have to be dealing with this. She had never been given the chance to just... live. No wonder her dream had been to travel the world with her friend.

"I don't know if it's them or not," said In-kyung. "But we're going to take care of this. Just like we did before." She spoke with confidence that she didn't feel, just so that she could reassure Hyo-rin. It seemed to work, at least a little.

"We're getting closer to our exit," said Jong-ho. "They're still with us. Do you want me to lead them back to the hotel?"

"I don't think it matters at this point. They have to already know where we're staying or they wouldn't have been able to find me in the first place. I'd rather be safe at this point."

Jong-ho nodded. "You got it."

He took the exit, and In-kyung watched the two cars that were behind them do the same. There was no question about it now. In-kyung looked back at In-hye and Hyo-rin, then offered them a reassuring smile. "We're almost there. It's going to be alright."

She hoped her words were true. She would rather die than watch anything happen to her sister or to Hyo-rin. They had already seen too much.

When In-joo saw her sisters come rushing in with Jong-ho and Hyo-rin, she immediately knew that something was wrong. Hyo-rin looked like she was on the verge of a panic attack, and In-hye looked as tense as In-joo had seen her in a long time.

"What's going on?"

"Where's Do-il?" In-kyung asked.

"He's on the phone with Ko Min-jun, trying to find out if Interpol knows anything that might be able to help us. Did something happen? Are you alright?"

"Something definitely happened, but we're alright. I don't think we're safe here anymore though. We were being followed."

"By who?" In-joo asked, alarmed.

"I don't know," In-kyung said. "But he has to know about it."

"I'll go get him," In-joo said quickly, turning and moving toward the rooftop patio door, which led to where Do-il was standing, talking intently on the phone. She could see the expression on his face, which was a scowl of concentration.

"Wait."

Everyone turned. The door was still open, because In-kyung was still standing in it, but everyone could now see who was standing behind her, looking simultaneously concerned, furious, and determined.

It was Ward.

"What do you want?" In-kyung asked, her tone making it clear that she had no interest in talking to him.

"You said you were being followed?"

"Watched and then followed. I don't know for how long it could have been the whole day. I only noticed after we had been out for a little."

"Were they American? Or Korean?"

In-kyung didn't see why that mattered, but she didn't feel like arguing with him. "American. Or at the very least, they weren't Korean. I didn't hear their voices, so I guess they could be from somewhere else. Why?"

"I think I might know where this is going. Let's see what he has to say about Min-jun."

In-joo stepped outside just in time to see Do-il hanging up from the call and returning his phone to his pocket. He seemed distracted—in fact, he didn't even turn to look at her until she was right next to him. When he did, he looked surprised that she was there.

"What did he say?" In-joo asked.

Do-il collected his thoughts before he said anything. That didn't strike her as a good sign, given how self-assured he normally was. "Nothing definitive. But he tried reaching out to the CIA too, and he heard the same things that I did. Which amounted to nothing."

"Is that normal?"

"It's not unheard of. But it isn't normal. The part that doesn't add up is the deaths of Ward's team. That should have raised red flags all over the agency. Why didn't they do anything about it besides attempt to recall Ward?"

"Because they don't care?" In-joo suggested. It didn't make sense, but it was the only explanation for why the agency would be so flippant over the death of multiple operatives. Especially deaths that had been caused by a rogue foreign civilian.

"That's what I was assuming as well. And that only brings up another question. Why don't they care?"

In-joo didn't have any answers to that. "Ward wanted you to come back in," she said. "In-kyung was being followed by a group of people. I think he's worried it's related to Jeongran."

Do-il's frown deepened. "They found us already? I knew they would eventually, but this is sooner than I thought." His face cleared. "We'll see what he says. I'm afraid that I think I might have an idea of what's going on."

In-joo didn't like the way he said that. What would scare Do-il?

And then she remembered. She could think of quite a few things that would scare Do-il. And a lot of them were the same things that scared her.

"We never really talked about what you went through," she said.

"And we never have to. I would do it again in a second. Whatever it takes—"

"Do-il, you almost died for me. Twice, now. Maybe we don't have to talk about it, but that's the kind of thing that changes a person."

"It did change me. You know that." He looked at her, and his eyes were gentle. "I would do it again, right now, if that's what it took. And that's the change. Do you remember when you first saw me? The selfish man in your office? Do you think that man would have ever considered risking his life for someone else? Or risking his life for anything other than personal gain?"

In-joo looked up at Do-il with wide eyes. "But I don't want you to sacrifice yourself for me. I don't want anything to happen to you ever again. When do you get to have a peaceful life?"

"I've spent a long time thinking about myself. Is it so wrong that I want to keep you safe?"

"How am I supposed to keep you safe?" In-joo asked, her voice a whisper. "And how I am supposed to live with myself if you can't?"

Do-il considered her for a moment. But he didn't have an answer. She supposed that didn't surprise her. He thought of everything, but he never thought of things like that.

"We'll end this," he said finally. "Together. And when we're done, none of us will ever have to worry about the future again. Not me or you. Not your sisters. Not even Hyo-rin."

In-joo wanted him to be right. She trusted him.

But for now, a peaceful future seemed like an unreachable goal. What had it been like to be a simple, young accountant, whose biggest worry was about her next paycheck?

She could barely remember anymore.

Notes:

It feels good to be back! Thank you for so many lovely comments, as always. I hope you're enjoying the final weeks of the year! I plan on continuing to update right through the holidays, so there shouldn't be any pauses for quite some time. I'm so excited to be writing at full speed for the foreseeable future.

I did just change my name and heavily update my profile finally! If you ever have questions or want to chat, feel free to reach out to any of my social medias.

I'll be seeing you all soon!

Chapter 31

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Did they follow you back here?" Ward asked. His tone was utterly business. In-hye watched the proceedings silently, taking in everything that was going on around her. They had tried to get her and Hyo-rin to leave, but In-hye had refused. They were part of this. It was their right to know what was going on.

"I assume so," In-kyung said. "They were behind us the whole way. But I figured that it didn't matter. They must have already known where we were staying, or they wouldn't have been able to find me in the first place."

Do-il's face was the picture of concentration. "It must have been recent, because the rest of us haven't seen anything. Were they professional or civilian?"

"I don't know," In-kyung said. "I didn't exactly have time to interview them. I panicked. I'm sorry."

Ward, surprisingly, was the one to shake his head. "No. You did the right thing. There was no need to take any unnecessary risks, especially when we don't know what we're dealing with."

Do-il nodded. "For once, we agree about something."

"The way I see it, there's two possibilities," said Ward. "Either Jeongran followed us and hired people, they already had people in America."

In-hye was fairly sure she understood what was going on, and neither of those possibilities sat well with her. Was there nowhere they could go where they would be free from this madness? And if Jeongran really did already have people in America, did that mean that their original fight had been for nothing?

Had America been nothing more than a trap the whole time?

"I'm sorry!" blurted Hyo-rin.

Everyone turned to face her, including In-hye.

"I'm sorry my family did this. I'm sorry I don't know more. I wish I could help you. I hate that this is all happening because of my parents." She looked miserable—but she didn't look scared.

In-hye felt crushed. She wanted to explain to Hyo-rin that it wasn't her fault, that she wasn't responsible for the crimes committed by her family, but she already knew there was nothing she could say that would convince Hyo-rin otherwise.

"You're all such good people. You've all always been so kind to me. And you just keep getting punished for it. It's not fair. If I could change things..." Hyo-rin looked like she was about to cry. "I try to be brave. But I know that you all spend a lot of time worrying about me. I'm just so sorry. I wish I could make them stop. I was their daughter. Doesn't that mean their people should listen to me?"

In-hye had a million thoughts on her mind. There were so many things she could say to refute what Hyo-rin was thinking, but none of them were coming out.

Strangely, Do-il was the one who spoke up.

"You're wrong. I'm sorry if that sounds blunt, but it's true. They won't listen to you because you're not like them, and you never were. You know who I am, and you know what I've done. You know the kind of person I am. And in all the years I spent under Jeongran, all the years I spent around your mother and father, I never saw you display an ounce of the rot that filled up your mother or the sheer greed that comprised your father. You contained all the good and all the innocence that they had lost. And despite the world that you grew up in, you never lost any of it. Not even for a second."

Everyone was looking at Do-il with surprise. No one had expected him to be the one to deliver a speech like that. But as usual, his face was impassive. Each word had been delivered as a fact, absent of any emotion that might make it come off as trite.

In-hye squeezed Hyo-rin's hand. There didn't seem to be anything else to say. Do-il had taken the sum of the emotions that were probably running through everyone's mind, and put them in the most straightforward way imaginable. It was very fitting for the kind of person he was.

"The CIA wanted us to come in," said Ward. "I'm not sure how I feel about that. Something strange is going on here, and I don't think we've seen the full picture yet."

"Do you trust them?" In-kyung asked.

"No. But that's a natural part of working for an intelligence organization, it doesn't necessarily prove anything. What did Interpol say?"

Do-il looked like he wished he had better news. "Min-jun wants to help, but he doesn't have the freedom to do whatever he wants. The CIA is stopping him from getting involved, the same way they're trying to stop me."

"And what are you going to do?" Do-il asked. "Can we trust you?"

"You can trust that I want to keep you alive. There's only two things I'm interested in right now. The first is killing Soo-im. The second is finishing our deal. You walk, alive and free, and you return the money to the CIA. After that, I have no interest in any of you. You can trust that."

Bizarrely, In-hye did trust him, though no one was asking her opinion. Part of the reason was because he had already risked his life for them, but she understood his single-mindedness. She was reminded of herself from before—of the sort of things she had been willing to do, simply so that she could acquire money.

"I think the CIA is involved," Do-il said. "I don't know how or why, but it doesn't make sense that they would suddenly tell you to stop what you're doing. Especially with the death of your team. Maybe it would be best for us to go and talk to them."

In-joo looked alarmed. "That seems... dangerous."

Ward considered it. "It would be, but it wouldn't be as dangerous as encountering them elsewhere. Simply because in America, the CIA mostly just operates as an... office. We don't run operations here. At least, we don't run the kind of operations that we run elsewhere. And if we do, we're paired with another organization that acts to keep us in check."

Do-il shook his head. "That's a last resort. I don't trust them to not detain us illegally."

"But why would they do that?" In-kyung asked. "They don't have any reason to. It doesn't even sound like they're interested in the Jeongran situation anymore at all."

"I agree. And that's what concerns me. Because there was no reason for them to flip like that," Do-il said.

In-hye was trying to predict where this line of thought would take them, but she didn't see anything. She was starting to see the advantage of being a child. Of not having to make decisions like this. She had spent so long railing for independence... but sometimes, it was nice to be able to just sit back and let someone else make the tough calls.

In-joo was the one who broke the silence. "What if we did... nothing?"

Everyone stared at her. In-hye, at this point, was completely lost, though her attention was now more directed toward Hyo-rin, who looked like she was still trying to take in everything that Do-il had just told her.

"If we're careful, we might be able to bait them out. They're the ones who need to make a move."

Do-il looked displeased. "I'm not willing to risk lives on a hunch. Even if it's a good one."

"I don't think they're going to gun us down in the streets," In-joo countered.

"But they might gun you down in a back alley," said Do-il. "I think we've all seen enough of that. We need to be moving forward, not laterally."

In-hye watched the back and forth with fascination. Both her sister and Do-il clearly held strong opinions, but they were both being so... civil? And In-hye wasn't sure if she was imagining it or not, but she was pretty sure she saw something different in the way they were looking at each other. Had something changed between them?

In-hye resolved to have a conversation with her sister. They both had a lot to talk about.

"We have lives that we need to get back to," In-joo. "Do-il, I know you want to keep us safe. But I have a business to run. In-kyung and Jong-ho are studying here. In-hye and Hyo-rin are children, and you know how important it is to let them have that part of their life. What we have right now isn't that. We're in America and Soo-im isn't here. We can... wait."

Do-il looked at Ward, which came as another shock. The two of them had never come close to getting along. But in this, they seemed to be united.

"I don't think you're in danger of being grabbed off the sidewalk," said Ward slowly. "But I don't think we can just pretend that everything is normal. It isn't."

"A compromise, then?" Do-il asked.

In-joo paused, then grinned. "That doesn't sound like something you're used to doing."

Do-il looked like he had to restrain a sigh. "It's not. But if that's what it takes, I'll figure something out. What do the rest of you think?"

No one seemed to have anything else to add. Do-il still didn't look pleased about the outcome of the discussion, but he didn't appear like he was going to be pushing the envelope any further.

Interestingly, he did look up, directly at In-hye. "I'd like to talk to you, if you have a moment," he said. His tone was still serious.

In-hye blinked and nodded, unsure as to what he might have to say to her. Whatever it was, it seemed important.

She noticed that her sisters were both looking at her, particularly In-joo. She looked... concerned. Worried, even. That wasn't a new thing, but given the question Do-il had just asked her, it made her feel a little uncomfortable.

Hyo-rin must have noticed that In-hye was feeling unsettled by it, because Hyo-rin reached out and took her hand. She didn't say anything, but then again, she didn't have to. That simple act was enough.

Do-il didn't have any idea how this conversation was going to go. If In-hye became angry with him, he wouldn't be able to blame her. Technically, what he had done was legal because he still had power of attorney over the funds, but he had done it without consulting her. He had every intention of telling her eventually, but he had also wanted to move as fast as possible to avoid giving anyone (primarily Ward) time to find out what was happening. Now that it was done, it would be much more difficult for Ward to track where the money had gone. It was long-term thinking, but that was what Do-il excelled at.

In-hye followed Do-il into one of the suite's rooms. Hyo-rin came with her, even without In-hye having to say anything. Do-il hoped that In-hye had taken his advice about Hyo-rin to heart. It was clear how close the two girls were. He wondered if they knew how rare and how powerful their bond was.

In-joo came too, alongside Do-il, looking very small. She didn't look scared or worried, but she did look uncertain about the direction the conversation was going to take.

The room they had entered looked like it was designed to be a study, but since it was in a hotel suite, it was smaller than it should have been, despite the extravagance of the entire building. Do-il had stayed in nicer places throughout his travels, but it was clear that the location they had picked for now was more concerned about security than a lot of the others. And that was his primary concern.

There was a small table with a few chairs, and Do-il gestured for everyone to sit before he pulled out a chair for himself.

"What is it?" In-hye asked solemnly. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong," Do-il said. "But some things have... changed in the past few days. I've been working on a few issues that are going to directly affect you."

In-hye frowned thoughtfully. "It's about my money, isn't it?"

Do-il leaned back in his chair. He couldn't help but be impressed. She picked up on things fast. Even faster than most adults he knew. "It is."

In-joo, who was sitting next to Do-il, spoke quietly. "You have to understand that we care about you. Everything that we do is because we want you to live a normal life."

In-hye still didn't have any major reaction. "I know that."

Do-il had the documents explaining the actions he had taken, each breaking down the paper companies he had created and the transactions he had made. "To put it simply, we all have access to a little less money right now. The funds are all still there. They still exist, and you'll be able to access them. But for right now, they're wrapped up in a web of companies that I created to obscure the existence of it all."

In-hye examined the papers. Do-il couldn't tell how much the girl actually understood, but eventually, she nodded. "I wish you would have told me. But you needed to move fast, didn't you? Because you didn't want Ward to find out what you were doing."

"I'm worried about our future," said Do-il. He hesitated, then added another sentence. "I'm worried about your future."

In-hye wasn't mad. Do-il thought that he could see that In-hye was a little perturbed about losing easy access to a sizable portion of her wealth, but she seemed to understand the necessity behind his actions.

"We're going to be in America for the foreseeable future," said Do-il. "And I think it would be a good idea for all of us to start... diversifying our interests. Not just your sister and me. But you too. Because if Ward comes after everything we have, even though I will do everything in my power to protect us, I can't make any guarantees."

"I trust you," said In-hye.

Do-il looked at the girl steadily. He truly had never met anyone like her in his life. How had she become this way? What had she seen that had caused her to grow up so fast? It was impressive. But maybe it was a little sad, too.

"Things are going to change a little," said Do-il. He wasn't happy about the consensus they seemed to have reached, but he did understand that he couldn't control everyone. "While I'm working alongside Ward, the rest of you are going to... resume living. As normally as you can."

"But we have to stay here."

"Until we know what the CIA is trying to do, or until we know who has been following us, yes. I'm sorry."

In-hye and Hyo-rin exchanged a look. "We can do it," In-hye said. "But please, in the future, tell me. I don't believe in secrets anymore. I don't think there was ever a reason to believe in them at all."

Do-il knew that wasn't true, but he didn't want to disillusion the girl. So instead, he gathered up the papers. "Thank you," he said. "For understanding."

"Thank you for caring," she said simply. "Sometimes it's nice to be reminded that people are willing to make difficult choices for you."

Do-il considered that as In-hye and Hyo-rin left. There had never been anyone to make difficult choices for him. For as long as he could remember, he had been making his own choices. His mother and father had... tried. But the world had spiraled out of their control in ways that they could have never predicted.

In-hye won't grow up like that. We won't let her.

Min-jun's conscience wouldn't let him rest. He knew that something was wrong. He knew there was something he was missing. But there was no evidence as to what it might be. All he could say for sure was that if something happened to the Oh sisters or any of their loved ones, it would eat at him for the rest of his life.

And so it was time for him to do something about it.

It would mean going against a direct order and interfering with the wishes of the CIA, but he had done enough sitting around. Soo-im was still in Korea, as far as he could tell. He didn't know how long that would last, but he could do recon. And anything he learned, he could pass along to Do-il. At least that way, they would have a better idea of what they were dealing with.

He knew he was taking a risk, but everything he had done since working alongside Ward had served as a wake-up call to him. He was still young, but he had given years of his life to law enforcement. To Interpol. Sometimes, it felt like it was worth it. Sometimes, he felt like he was making a difference.

Other times, it all seemed like a waste. And after he had seen the fallout of what Ward and Soo-im had done, it seemed like he had actively made things worse.

Fine. It didn't matter if his superiors wanted him to drop it. Who cared what the CIA had said? He was his own person who could make his own decisions.

The Oh sisters were going to make it through this. And if that meant he had to risk his life, then that was what he would do.

As Ko Min-jun left the Interpol office that night, he noted that he was the final person to pass through the doors. He had spent the past few hours cataloging equipment and making sure that he would be able to acquire anything that he might need.

Tomorrow, he would put in for some time off. He had been saving his time for years, and this seemed as good as any a time to use it. If Soo-im was still in the country, he would find her. There was nowhere she could go in the country that would keep her hidden from him.

And if she left? Then Do-il and the Oh sisters would know.

After that, he would see what came next. If necessary, he would follow her. He owed that much. No one else would get hurt because of this. No one.

Notes:

I enjoyed subverting the "two characters get in an argument over a misunderstanding" trope with In-hye and Do-il. But I think it also fits In-hye's character to see the necessity of Do-il's actions.

Thank you for reading and commenting! I'm looking forward to getting more chapters to you very soon.

Chapter 32

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Life, against all odds, moved along.

Maybe it was a symptom of the fact that they were used to this kind of thing by now. Maybe it was because they had developed a tolerance to these kinds of events. Because they knew the feeling of chaos so well that by now, it had become an old friend.

But none of them—not even Hyo-rin—were allowing the looming threat to harm their continued existence. Funnily enough, it seemed to In-joo that Do-il was the one who was dealing with the most stress. He hadn't said anything about it, but she could see it on his face. She knew it was because he was worried for her safety and for the safety of her sisters. It was the way he worked, and she loved that about him. She just didn't want it to eat him from the inside too much.

As for In-joo, she had spent the past few days catching up on the state of affairs for her aunt's (now her own) business. She had been leaving the day to day operations to others, as the current crisis had demanded her full attention. But now, it was time to reenter that world.

Do-il had been working alongside her. Not to tell her what to do, because that simply wasn't his style, but to aid her in whatever manner she needed. And as they were now in America, there were quite a few times that she needed to stop and consult with him over either cultural differences, the language barrier, or in some cases, how their current financial situation affected her business.

Doil had been in the progress of helping her relocate her money in much the same way he had done with In-hye's. It was a slower process, as In-joo owned and operated a rather large conglomerate, but it was the same basic principle. By the time they would be done, it would be practically impossible to trace where all the Jeongran money had gone.

And Ward seemed to be completely unaware of it all.

Part of In-joo was conflicted over it. They had made a deal with Ward, and now, they were actively in the process of reneging on it, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to do anything about it. But the other part of her knew there was nothing wrong with what they were doing, especially given Ward's actions and motivations.

She refused to believe that he was evil through and through. She saw parts of herself in him. She saw parts of Do-il in him. But she knew that keeping her family's future safe was the most important thing she could do. And she still didn't trust Ward to fully keep his end of the bargain either.

Do-il seemed to understand her thoughts on the subject, even though she hadn't brought them up out loud. Whenever they sat down to work on the accounts and paper companies, he did everything with a sense of gentleness that wasn't typically visible in his actions.

And perhaps even more surprisingly, things were progressing... smoothly. There hadn't been any major roadblocks since she had begun the process of obscuring the money, nor had the day to day operations of her company been negatively impacted. In fact, she had managed to acquire a small amount of real estate in America, which would be hell for her accountants, but likely a long-term boost for her bottom line.

"She would be proud of you," Do-il said.

It was the afternoon, and they had decided to take the rest of the day after lunch off, so that In-joo could see some of the sights of LA. The destination they had chosen was a large park—one of the largest in the city—that was situated in such a way that it was elevated above most of the metropolitan areas, offering a view of the place that had so recently become their new, temporary home.

"Who?" In-joo asked. She was, admittedly, a bit distracted by the sights. There were people everywhere, but even with the crowds, the sheer size of the park made the entire environment seem more private than it was. Los Angeles had been an indescribable mix of contradictions for her so far. It was colossal, it was impersonal, and it didn't seem to have any regard for the people who lived there. But she also couldn't deny that there was a sort of magic to it all. An intimidating magic, to be sure, but she felt it everywhere.

"Your aunt. You've accomplished things that I don't think even she would have expected from herself."

In-joo hadn't considered such a thing. She had just been doing the best she could with what she had. That was what she had always done. It had never occurred to her that her achievements could go beyond what had come before. That had never been her goal.

"I just wanted to do right by her. She left the company to In-kyung, but this life was never what she wanted."

"Was it what you wanted?" Do-il asked.

"I think about that sometimes. It was, but I don't know if I realized it. I was always good with money, but the only money I ever handled belonged to other people. I never had the chance to prove myself." She paused. "But I guess proving myself wasn't the point. I never cared about what other people thought of me. Even when I felt like appearances mattered, what I really cared about the most was just being able to provide for myself and my sisters."

Do-il nodded as they walked. It was another warm LA day. It seemed, to In-joo at least, that every day there was warm.

"I used to be so sure about what I wanted. But then I had a year to think about it. And that was after I had supposedly gotten everything that I had worked for. Now, I think what I was missing wasn't what I wanted. It was what I needed." She could tell based on his voice that he had been thinking about this for a long time. Do-il wasn't the kind of person who shared things unless he was certain in what he was saying. "I can't do everything alone. You showed me that. Your family showed me that." He sighed. "I'm glad I learned it. I don't think it was too late for me."

In-joo smiled at him. "The Do-il from before would never be able to talk to me like this. It wasn't too late. You just needed... a little push."

Do-il laughed. "That's a sentence I didn't expect to ever agree with. But I think you're right." And then, he reached out, and in full view of anyone who cared to watch, he took her hand.

A small gesture, to be sure. But one that meant the world to her.

"I didn't expect there to be places like this here," In-joo said, indicating the park around them. It was far bigger than she had imagined. In her mind, Los Angeles was a sprawling city, overrun by highways and high rises. In a way, that was correct. But it wasn't the whole truth.

"Most people don't. You hear so many things about a place like Los Angeles. And the stories you hear become more real than the truth."

She understood that much at least. "I never had the chance to enjoy places like this. When I went to Singapore, that was when I first started to really see how the other half of the world lived. Sometimes I think about how many people are still living the same kind of life that I used to lead. I feel... guilty."

Do-il thought about her words before he answered her. She liked that about him. He was always precise. He never spoke thoughtlessly. "I'm probably not the best person to comment on that. I lived a long time thinking about no one other than myself. By the time I started to consider another way, it was too late. But In-joo, you're not like me. There's only so much that one person can do. When you brought down Jeongran, you did more good in that one moment than most others will do in their entire lives."

"I don't want to just stop," said In-joo. "I can't live on a memory of something I did in the past."

"You're not that kind of person," said Do-il.

"But how can I trust that?" In-joo asked. "I'm afraid I'm going to turn into one of them. The ones who sit in their towers above the rest of us, looking down like we're just ants."

Do-il stopped walking, but he didn't let go of her hand. She was forced to come to a stop as well.

"That's not who you are. Not now, not on the surface, and not on the inside."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked desperately. Now that she was voicing the words, they came to her easily. Too easily.

"Because you were faced with the easy way out so many times. You never took it. Even when it would have been better for you to just walk away, you didn't even consider it. Think about the path you've been on." He paused. "Think about the person you've helped me become."

At that, In-joo didn't know what to say. Do-il was a man of few words. And yet he had stood here and said all of that, culminating in a statement that to him must have felt like baring his soul.

"I just can't let myself stop trying," In-joo said. "I can't forget where I came from."

"Even if you do, you're not alone. Your sisters can remind you."

"And so can you."

Do-il smiled a little at that. "And so can I."

That, at least, was something. In-joo knew that sometimes, she worried too much. And she knew that she worried about things that many others might consider trivial. After all, she had her money. What difference did it make what came next?

But her morals wouldn't allow her to live like that. And it was nice to be reminded that she didn't need to walk that road alone.

Do-il was starting to walk again. She continued with him, not wanting to miss a second of their perfect day. Who knew how long it would last? There were too many questions about the future to not enjoy whatever peace they could find.

Min-jun knew that something was wrong. He had found Soo-im. But she... didn't appear to be doing anything. At least, anything unusual.

He had spent a few days tracking her, using equipment that he had... borrowed from Interpol. They wouldn't miss it, and he would return it in the end anyway, so he didn't think it mattered that much. Probably.

Once he had found her, he settled into a fairly standard routine of surveillance. She seemed to be utterly unaware of his presence, but she also seemed to be doing nothing more than existing. She barely contacted anyone, she barely did anything. The most action Min-jun saw was her going out to get food.

What was she thinking? There was no way that she had suddenly just dropped her vendetta and decided to live a quiet life. So she was biding her time. But for what?

There were a number of calls that she took and made during the day, but he hadn't found an opportunity to bug the place she was staying yet, and she wasn't using a landline, so it wasn't like he could just tap the phone. He was sure, at this point, that the phone calls were integral to finding out what was going on, but he wasn't willing to risk his position yet. If she knew he was following her, he was certain she would just kill him. He couldn't help anyone if he was dead.

But he also couldn't leave Do-il and the Oh sisters to face this madness alone. So when Soo-im left the small apartment once again, Min-jun moved into action as soon as she saw her turn the corner and head off toward the downtown street that she had been visiting periodically over the last few days.

He had kept records of how long each excursion had taken her. He wouldn't have long to work. But that was alright. He didn't need long. All he needed to do was get inside, plant a handful of bugs, and leave. He could do it in minutes, as long as the lock wasn't too complicated.

The first door to the apartment was open, but he needed to climb steps to get to the actual door, the one that would lead to the interior of the unit. Once he did so, he was able to appraise the lock and was certain that he could have it sorted in almost no time at all. The trick would be opening it without completely destroying it. He didn't want to leave any sign that he had been there.

As far as he could tell from the handful of days that he had been watching Soo-im, she didn't have an extreme amount of security in place. It was like she had finished with Ward, killed off his men, and then gone underground. Where was Soo-im's team? What had happened to her money? Why was she living here and what was she waiting for?

He hoped that he would find the answers to those questions on the inside.

As he stood in front of the door with his tools, he pulled a heat over his head and hastily tied a bandanna around his face. He was already wearing gloves. Just in case she did have some kind of recording equipment on the in, he didn't want his face to be caught on camera.

The lock, as expected, opened quickly. Min-jun heard it pop open just a second before he swung the door in, and stepped across the threshold of that apartment. At this point, there was no going back. He was breaking and entering. This went well beyond the scope of his job, even if he was doing it to protect people. If he was caught now, he would be prosecuted.

Unless Soo-im caught him first. Then he would just be dead.

He gently closed the door behind him and surveyed the room for any signs that he needed to leave immediately. Security cameras, blinking red lights, tripwires rigged to blow the whole place.

He was concerned to find that there was nothing. What was she doing?

Instead, what he saw was a place that looked barely lived in, the walls covered with bits of newspaper and computer printouts, tacked up and tied together by string. It looked like the work of a madwoman, which he supposed was an accurate descriptor of who he was dealing with.

He wished he had more time. Instead, he took out his phone and snapped a few pictures of the web of information, before proceeding to install bugs in each room of the apartment. It didn't take long. The bugs were small and just needed to be affixed to surfaces that were out of sight. After that, he'd be able to monitor them as long as he didn't get too far from them.

Before he left, he took one last look at all the information she had pinned up. It wasn't clear what she was trying to do, but he noticed that a lot of it seemed to relate to the United States. He supposed that made sense if she was planning on following Do-il and the rest.

But some of it didn't add up. There were reports to seemingly unrelated companies, charts indicating interest in private security companies, and photographs of places that Min-jun didn't recognize at all. He wished he had more time, but he would have to rely on the bugs to get the information that he was looking for.

Min-jun left, making sure the door was locked behind him, in the exact same way he had found it. He still wondered what had happened to Soo-im. Where had her money gone? Why was she staying here? What was it in America that had gotten her attention?

He hoped that the Oh sisters were still safe. He would reach out to Do-il again tonight, especially if he had heard anything new. For now, the only thing he was concerned about was getting away from this place as fast as he could.

Once he was back out on the street, his hat and bandanna removed, Min-jun finally felt like he could breathe a little easier. There were still a lot of questions, but now he was on the track to answering them. He only needed a few more days. After that, he would likely have enough intel to have more of an educated idea as to what was happening.

But Min-jun was starting to believe that he had missed something major. That even the Oh sisters hadn't seen the full picture. It was possible that Do-il, who had been a member of Jeongran, hadn't known the full reach of things.

Revenge was a powerful motivator. But it only went so far. There was something else at work here. Jeongran couldn't stand on its own like this for much longer. Someone else had to be propping them up.

The idea was terrifying. But the thought of not knowing was even worse.

As he resumed his position down the street, with the front of the apartment still in view, he watched with satisfaction as Soo-im turned the corner and started to make her way back up. His timetables had been immaculate. If everything went right, she would have no idea he had been there, and soon, he would learn what her plan was.

Min-jun slipped back into his car and switched on the equipment he had on the passenger seat. It was time to find out who she had been talking to for the past few days.

Notes:

Thanks for checking in and keeping up with the story!

I currently do plan to continue regular updates, so the next update SHOULD be on Christmas, but it might be delayed depending on plans. I hope you all enjoy the holiday season! Thanks for sticking around, as always!

Chapter 33

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In-kyung had felt a little guilty about leaving In-hye behind. But her sister had insisted, especially once she found out what In-kyung and In-joo were trying to do.

"We'll be fine for an evening," In-hye had said firmly. "We've traveled the world on our own. We don't need someone watching us. It's not like we're going to be going anywhere."

In-kyung felt both better and worse about the fact that they technically weren't alone. Ward would be staying behind as well. Technically, his presence would make them safer, but she still didn't fully trust him. At least she knew that if anything happened while she was gone, the two girls wouldn't have to face it by themselves.

She tried to push all those thoughts out of her mind. It was time she did something for herself for once, which In-hye had been trying to tell her the whole time anyway. Even if it was something as simple as dinner with Jong-ho, In-joo, and Do-il.

It felt like a bizarrely normal thing to be doing. Was this was regular couples felt like? Like they could just go out on the town whenever they wanted and enjoy themselves? She could barely remember the last time she had felt normal. It was like a memory of another life.

She tried to push her worries aside, just for the night. Despite what had happened before, none of them, including Do-il had noticed anyone else following them. It was possible that whoever had been tailing them was just staying out of sight, but she felt sure that one of them would have noticed something by now. Maybe the situation hadn't been as dire as she had thought. She still felt a little foolish—had she overreacted? But no, she reminded herself that Do-il had been just as worried as she had.

For tonight, she would try to keep that off her mind.

As the four of them sat down in the darkened room, each table lit only by the orange glow of candlelight, she tried to remember if she ever thought that any of them would reach this point. Jong-ho saw the expression on her face and chuckled.

"What is it?" she asked.

"I can tell exactly what you're thinking. And you're right."

Do-il looked confused, though In-joo seemed to understand as well. "I'm not used to being the last one on the uptake," Do-il said.

In-joo grinned at him. "Well, maybe I like seeing things go this way for once."

In-kyung laughed. "I'll be the kind one this time. It's just... surprising, that's all. If I look back, sitting here never felt like a possibility. Not even a dream. In-joo and I... we'd been through a lot, and none of it had seemed like it was building a path to happiness."

Jong-ho smiled at In-kyung. "And this was something that I hadn't considered possible at all. For a lot of reasons."

"I let myself be blinded by things I thought I was sure of," said Do-il. "And that closed a lot of doors to me too. We see what we let ourselves see."

"It's not that easy," said Jong-ho, as the waiter served them their drinks. "Sometimes, it's just not time yet. Sometimes we're not ready."

Do-il nodded. "That, I understand."

In-joo looked from one man to the other. "Are you both always so serious?"

Do-il turned to regard her. "That depends on what you mean by serious."

In-joo sighed, exasperated. "I shouldn't have expected a straight answer."

Jong-ho leaned forward, looking like he wanted to pursue this line of thinking. "I'm curious. What did people think of you two when you met?"

Do-il fell silent. In-kyung could tell that he was turning that question over in his mind, thinking of the best way to answer it. It was an expression she had seen on people's faces many times before—typically when she was interviewing someone and they wanted to make sure they responded in the proper way.

"They believed what I told them, because I had never given them a reason not to. I told them that it was a casual fling. I told myself that I only cared about the money, and that once that was handled, I would never need to see her again. It was all a lie." He smiled to himself. "It's funny. The person who saw through it all was Soo-im, of all people. She was the only one who really got it. Even before I did."

"When did you realize it?" In-kyung asked, before covering her mouth with her hand. "I mean, you don't have to answer that."

Do-il shook his head. "No, it's fine. I feel like I owe you all some kind of explanation, given so much of these was centered around things that I did. I wish I had a better answer for you, but truthfully, I'm not sure if I even know. It was before I left for the last time. I remember standing in the airport and thinking to myself that I was doing the right thing, but hating every second of it anyway. If I could go back, there are a lot of things that I would surely do differently."

In-joo took his hand and smiled at him. Then she looked at In-kyung. "What about you? Is there anything you would change?"

In-kyung was surprised to find that she didn't have an answer to that. She hadn't really thought about it. How would she change things? And then, she realized that she did know the answer, and it wasn't what she had expected to say.

"I don't think I would have changed anything. None of it was ideal. There were a lot of things that could have been done better. But how could I change anything, when this was where it lead me? I think back to the time that I spent alone, searching for purpose, searching for meaning, and what I realize is that I just wasn't ready yet. Eventually, I was ready. Eventually, I found my way. But I had to make the journey first."

Do-il looked thoughtful. In-kyung wondered if he had ever considered it like that before. He was someone who was used to snap decisions, to always knowing exactly what to do. Being put in a situation like this must have made him massively uncomfortable. "The journey first," he said quietly. "I don't know if I've ever thought about it like that."

In-kyung realized that Jong-ho was looking at her with admiration. She turned and gave him a little smile.

"Let me ask you another question," said Jong-ho. "Because this is something I've been wondering for a while. If you hadn't gotten into finances, and you had ended up deciding to do something else, what would you have wanted to do?

Do-il sipped his drink. "I feel like I'm at a job interview. I should have brought my resume with me."

Jong-ho laughed. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to."

Do-il shrugged. "No, it's not a problem. But it's something that I haven't spent much time thinking about. I was never one to consider the way things 'could have been.' I've always been so focused on what's right in front of me."

"That's fair," said Jong-ho. "Conversely, I may have spent too much time worrying about how things could have been different. But in the end, it seemed like it worked for both of us. But give it a shot anyway—what do you think you would have wanted to try?"

Do-il's answer came surprisingly quick. "I think I would have tried to become a lawyer. Or a detective." He didn't explain why. In-kyung didn't need him to explain. The reasoning was obvious. But he kept talking anyway, like he felt that he needed to justify what he was thinking. "I've said this to In-joo before, but In-hye reminds me of myself. If I could have had someone willing to fight for me when I was young, my life would have been very different."

In-kyung considered that. It clashed with what they had said before—that the journey had led them to happiness. If they had lived different lives, they wouldn't be sitting here. But would they be happier? Or at least... more at peace? "Do you think it all happens for a reason?" she asked.

"No," said Do-il. "I can't believe that. I've seen too many random acts of evil to believe that they're necessary. But I do know that we give it all meaning. We make it all matter. What we choose takes the chaos of the world and gives it order. It's up to us what kind of order we impose."

In that moment, In-kyung thought she understood Do-il better than ever before. Those few sentences gave perspective on his entire view of the world. She knew that he was right for In-joo. They had a kind of balance between them that didn't need to be spoken. It was just visible on its own.

"You're full of surprises, aren't you?" In-kyung said.

Do-il shrugged. "Most people never took the time to get to know me. They saw what I could do for them, and that was it. I suppose that was at least more than partially my own fault."

"Well, I'm glad I got to you know," said In-kyung. "I think we all are."

That was something that she could say with certainty. The look on In-joo's face said it all. Through the most unlikely of meetings, to the most impossible of challenges, they had made it. Nothing was perfect and nothing was finished, but they were on their way. That was enough.

Do-il was surprised by how much he had enjoyed himself. Part of him had been actually nervous, which was a feeling he wasn't used to. There was no actual reason to be nervous, he knew that. And he also knew that none of them would be able to tell. But the feeling sat there anyway.

In any case, the night passed quickly. Maybe too quickly. Do-il was content to sit, enjoy his meal, and listen to In-joo and In-kyung tell stories about their childhoods. Every so often, Do-il would make eye contact with Jong-ho, and a sort of unspoken understanding would pass between them: they were both unfathomably lucky to have found their way into the lives of these two women.

Do-il appreciated Jong-ho. The man was clever and loyal. He was quiet when he wanted to be, but capable of speaking out when it was needed. Do-il saw in Jong-ho the possibility of a genuine friendship, the kinds of which he hadn't had in a very long time.

These are good people.

I don't belong here.

The thought crept in intrusively, unbidden. He didn't want to think that way. He was even aware that those kind of thoughts weren't true, but they came back all the same. It was one of many things that he was still working on.

The server brought them the bill, and Do-il managed to reach for it before any of the others at the table. It was a meaningless gesture, given the amount of money that they all now possessed, but it was just something that he was used to.

However, when he examined it, he saw that it had already been paid for. He looked up in confusion, wondering if one of the others had paid it in advance, but he could tell by the expressions on their faces that none of them suspected anything out of the ordinary.

In-joo saw that something was wrong first. She looked at Do-il and a concerned frown began to develop on her face. "What is it?"

Do-il cast his eyes about the room. "I'm not sure. It might be nothing."

The other patrons of the restaurant were carrying on their own conversations. It seemed that no one was paying any attention to the two Korean couples. Maybe it was nothing. Maybe it was as simple as a stranger doing something nice.

But that had never been Do-il's experience. That had never been the way his world had worked. He hadn't gotten this far by assuming the best case scenario. He had gotten here by being prepared for every eventuality. For always being able to find a way out.

Do-il wasn't going to take chances. Not now. Not when In-joo was with him. Not when he had found some sort of peace and happiness.

"Do-il, is something happening?" In-joo asked again, this time in a hushed whisper.

"I don't know." His voice was perhaps more forceful than he wanted, but he had slipped into a side of himself that hadn't needed to come out since they had left Korea. He was checking the exits, looking for threats, and trying to see if there was anything at all that stood out.

He saw nothing.

And that was the problem.

The staff was gone. They had vanished, it seemed, shortly after he had received the bill. Even the front of house manager was gone, leaving the entrance unmanned. There were no waiters, no servers milling about. The bartender was gone, though patrons still sat there and chatted.

Do-il was beginning to see what was happening. They were in trouble, even more than he had anticipated.

"They knew we were coming," he said calmly, trying to not let whoever was watching know that he was catching on to them. "They must have paid the staff off. Maybe even some of the other patrons as well."

"Who are 'they?' In-kyung asked. "What do we do?"

"The same people who were following you before, I assume," Do-il answered. "Except this time, they seem to have concealed their presence better."

"Do you think they wanted me to see that them?" In-kyung questioned. "Did I do exactly what they wanted?"

Do-il shook his head. "I don't know."

There was too much that he didn't know. What he did know was that they were sitting in a killbox. There was no way to leave safely, not if there could be enemies anywhere. If they stood up now, they could just be gunned down.

Once again, he wondered if it was just paranoia bred from a lifetime of living while surrounded by monsters. But that couldn't be it. There were too many signs. Something was happening, and he didn't have any idea what it was.

He didn't have a weapon, which made him feel even more uneasy. Well, that was technically true. He didn't have a gun or anything like that, but he was sitting at a table with several knives, and in a place like this, there were countless objects that could be used for self-defense.

Of course, he wasn't hoping for violence. If h could talk his way out—or bargain—then he would. But those were options that had been hard to come by as of late.

"How was the meal?" a loud voice boomed out, and every conversation simultaneously fell silent.

Do-il set his eyes on the knife in front of him, and the one directly next to him that was in front of In-joo. Those would be the first things that he went for, if it came down to it.

Do-il saw the man approaching immediately. He was, after all, the only person standing and walking in the entire restaurant.

The stranger grabbed a chair from the adjacent table and swung it around, before lowering himself down to sit casually with the four of them. He was tall, with a shaved head and exceedingly stern eyes. He was older than all of them, though by how much, it was impossible to say.

"Jeongran sends their regards," the man said. "And I hope you enjoyed your food."

Do-il kept his posture loose, his muscles prepared to spring at any moment. The silence had taken on an intense, eerie air. He could practically smell the potential violence. "Jeongran is dead."

The man shrugged. "That's what you would think. And no one could blame you, either. After all, everything you did was so heavily publicized." He sighed. "Actually, why am I bothering to talk to you? You're already dead. One doesn't just sit around talking to corpses."

Do-il saw In-kyung's eyes flash with rage. "I think you'll find we're a little bit more lively than most corpses."

The man chuckled. "Right, of course. I'm sure. Anyway, I'm supposed to tell you that Soo-im sends her regards. You never should have played with forces that you didn't fully understand."

Do-il knew what was going to happen next. He reached one hand under the table and placed it on In-joo's knee, then gave her a reassuring squeeze. He hoped she knew to run when the fighting started. Across the table, Jong-ho seemed to be eyeing up one of the knives as well. He wasn't a fighter, but he had held his own in the past.

"Why would you want to work with her?" Do-il asked, projecting as much disgust into his voice as he could. "She's a failure. She was never anything other than an attack dog."

The bald man shrugged. "And yet she was the only one left from the Korean arm of the Jeongran society." He looked thoughtful. "I suppose they were more than an arm. More like the trunk of the whole tree. But they're gone now, and I didn't think you were going to be inclined to help us. Which meant she was the only one who could get us what was left of their assets."

Do-il felt his stomach drop. He tried to maintain his composure, but he knew full well that his expression had slipped. The Korean arm? Did that mean...?

"What assets?" he asked. He tried to make his voice sound dismissive, but even he heard it shake. "They had nothing."

"You took their money," the man said. "She gave us what she had left for safekeeping, until she could make it to America. And she gave us something more valuable than money. She gave us their knowledge."

Do-il thought of all the files, the blackmail documents, the intelligence that Jeongran had accumulated. Of course Soo-im had gotten her hands on it before it all came crashing down. And he had no doubt that she had managed to secure enough won to live comfortably for the rest of her life... but it seemed she had given that up to buy the cooperation of...

Of whoever these people were.

"Well, it was nice to meet you," the bald man said, standing. "Now it's time to say goodbye. The next time you think you've defeated your opponent, you should make sure to broaden your view. Our roots go deep." He grinned nastily. "Even all around the globe."

Do-il was on his feet then, but he wasn't sure how much it would matter. Because he now saw that every single person in the room had turned and was looking at him. Every patron, staring at his group with unconcealed hatred.

His adrenaline spiked.

"Get ready," he murmured to In-joo.

This wasn't about winning, not anymore. It was about survival.

Notes:

Unfortunately, the quiet times can't last forever...

Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to everyone! Today we crossed 100,000 words, which is always a huge milestone for me. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the day. You've really made my year with your constant support, which has been the best gift I could possibly imagine.

I'll see you in a few days with the next chapter!

Chapter 34

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In-joo understood what was happening, and she knew that their position had gone from problematic to untenable. Whoever the man was, his words implied something terrible—that Jeongran had been bigger than what they had seen in Korea. It did seem that Sang-a and her husband had been at the top of the entire organization, and that their part of the society had been the most important and widespread branch. But now, if what the man said was true, then In-joo knew that by eliminating Sang-a and cutting down Jeongran had only been the first step in a much larger equation.

The entire time the man was speaking, In-joo's gaze kept alternating between Do-il and the man. She could tell that Do-il was preparing for violence, and In-joo was praying that it didn't come to that. They had already seen so much violence, all of it centered around money. When would it be enough? When would it end?

When Do-il stood up, she knew that there was no way it would end without bloodshed. Strangely, despite how afraid she was, she felt a certainty that they would be able to escape. How she knew this, she couldn't say. Maybe it was because they had been in this situation before. Maybe it was because she trusted Do-il so completely that she knew he would find a way.

Maybe she was just a fool.

Because she was terrified. And she had every reason to be. These people were here for one reason only—to kill them all. The man hadn't revealed much, but from what he had said, In-joo could tell that Soo-im had made some kind of deal, likely involving whatever funds she had been able to secure, along with whatever information she had saved before Jeongran had collapsed. And in return, all Soo-im wanted the death of In-joo, her sisters, and their loved ones.

It was an easy deal to make.

But when Do-il muttered, "Get ready," all of those thoughts vanished. The world became about one thing, and one thing only. Survival. In-joo was trying to remember the quickest way out, she was trying to think of what they were going to do when they made it outside. Surely they wouldn't just be executed on the streets. Right?

And then it started, and there was no longer any time for her to think about what she was going to do next. In all of the violent situations In-joo had found herself in, she had started to learn that true violence didn't depend on intelligence or highly trained fighting skills. It was never like the movies made it look. It was a mad scramble to stay alive, and there was no order or sense to it.

She remembered the sight of Do-il nearly dying for her. It couldn't happen again. The thought of it was too much to bear.

But she couldn't help thinking about the fact that Ward wasn't there this time. There was no back up.

Do-il literally flipped the table and threw himself to the side as the entire restaurant erupted into a flurry of violence. In-joo dove to the ground, trying to stay as low as she possibly could. In-kyung had followed suit, and it looked like Jong-ho was doing his best to get them some space from the oncoming attackers so that they could make it outside, even though In-joo knew that In-kyung would never let him sacrifice himself.

Then why am I letting Do-il handle this on his own?

The answer was simple. Because that was what he did.

As bad as the odds were, she knew that he now had something that would make him fight harder than he ever had before—he had something to lose. Not money or possessions, but the kind of thing that the had been missing his whole life without even knowing it. She had seen how hard he would fight for it.

She hoped that it would be enough.

There was no time to do anything other than put some space between him and the nearest attacker and hope for the best. Do-il didn't have a gun, and it wasn't something that he was used to having to worry about. In Korea, guns were much harder to come by than they were in the United States. Here, any one of these men or women might have one. They could all have one. And if that was the case, Do-il was too aware of how easy it would be to get cut down in the crossfire. It would be over in a matter of seconds.

He flipped the table as soon as In-joo, In-kyung, and Jong-ho were just out of range of where he guessed it would land. But saying he flipped it was a bit of an understatement. It was more of a violent throw, backed by the adrenaline that was now coursing through his veins. And it had the intended effect—the few people that were within striking distance flinched backward, surprised by the sudden action.

He threw himself to the side, rolled, and tackled the man who was closest to him when he landed. Do-il didn't bother seeing who it was or what they were doing. Everyone there had made it very clear that they were enemies. He'd treat them all the same.

One punch to the face was enough to break the man's nose and send his head snapping back, blood spurting into the air. Do-il had no idea if the target of the punch was still conscious or not, but it didn't matter. The number had been thinned by one.

"Kill him!" the bald man screamed. "Grab the others and kill him!"

The shout seemed to break the floodgates, as everyone else began to move as well. Do-il knew why he was the one to be killed first—because he was the one who was most likely able to kill them in return. And if In-joo or In-kyung—or even Jong-ho—was captured, it would hamper Do-il's ability to do anything without risking the life of someone he cared about.

"Shoot him!"

Ah, there it was. Do-il kicked a chair out of his way and made a beeline for the bar, vaulting over and landing behind it. He had expected to be able to catch his breath and use the bar as cover while he located his next target, but that hope was shattered when he saw that the missing bartender had been there the whole time, crouched and hidden behind the bar—

Holding what appeared to be a shotgun with a criminally short barrel.

Do-il sighed as the bartender fumbled with the gun, clearly not having expected to see anyone come over the top of the bar. "I promise you, whatever they paid you, it wasn't worth it."

He didn't expect his words to have any effect, and sure enough, the bartender brought the shotgun to bear. It was clear in the way he handled the gun that he had been bribed, and maybe lied to, but that wasn't Do-il's concern.

Do-il ducked and swooped in, driving the man to the ground and forcing his hands up, before stunning him with a single punch to the face. The gun popped free from the bartender's grasp, and Do-il snagged it out of the air before it even hit the ground.

"Stay down," he said, getting to his feet, but staying crouched behind the bar. "Keep low and don't come out until it's over."

The bartender nodded, his eyes dazed, and he slid himself backwards, pressing himself against the liquor cabinets on the wall behind the bar.

Do-il checked the shotgun. It was loaded and ready, but it only had two shells in it. He could use it to give In-joo some more space, but that was about it. He wasn't going to clear the entire room.

Do-il took a deep breath, heard the bald man shouting something again in English, and then popped up from behind the bar, shotgun aimed and braced. He had less than a second to analyze the layout of the room. What he saw made his heart sink.

There were two people headed right for him. There were at least three people aiming guns at him. And there were even more going after In-joo and In-kyung. Jong-ho was doing his best to defend them with what looked like a chef's knife that he had grabbed, but he was doing little more than buying a few seconds at a time.

Do-il fired the gun once, then twice in quick succession. The first blast dropped one of the men running at him, practically cutting the assailant in half. The second blast was poorly aimed and too far to do much, but it was in the general direction of In-joo's pursuers.

It didn't kill anyone, but it did send them scattering backward, giving Do-il a bit of satisfaction as In-joo's hand closed around the door handle. She was seconds away from being outside. Seconds from the most safety she could hope for, given the circumstances.

Unfortunately, there were still plenty of other enemies to worry about, and one of them was running right at him. And there were no shells left in his gun.

He hurled the shotgun at the oncoming man, then grabbed a glass off the bar and shattered off the man's skull hard enough to send him toppling over, stunned and out of the fight.

Do-il didn't stop moving. If he ducked behind the bar again, he'd be safe, but he would give his opponents enough space to recover, which was something he was trying to avoid at all costs.

Instead, he leaped over the bar again, ducked and rolled, and grabbed the gun off the bleeding body of the man he had shot to death. He came up in a crouched position, with the gun raised and aimed, and he fired three times in quick succession, forcing all of the remaining enemies to duck back into cover.

He couldn't see In-joo anymore. She must have made it outside. He didn't know if anyone had gone after her, but he had to assume that they had. At the very least, he knew they weren't going to kill her. Killing her would only mean that there would be nothing holding Do-il back. The only way to slow him down would require holding her hostage.

There was a pause in the fighting. He knew what was happening—they were trying to decide the best angle to get at him. None of them could flank him without entering into his line of fire, and none of them wanted to be the first to take a bullet.

"Maybe we should talk about this," the bald man called out from behind one of the ornate support pillars in the dining area.

Do-il snorted. "It might have been better to think about that before you tried to kill me and my friends. You can't have it both ways."

"If I step out, will you shoot me?"

"Yes," said Do-il.

"So you don't want to talk?"

"You lost the right to talking a few minutes ago. You can't be serious." But Do-il was aware that his words were little more than empty bluster at this point. The police were surely on the way by now. And if the American branch of Jeongran was anything like what they had seen in Korea, then the law enforcement would be on their side. If Do-il ended up in custody, that wouldn't help anyone.

"Is that really how you want this to go?"

Do-il sighed. "Stop putting this on me. If you wanted to talk, you had the chance."

"Well, don't say that I didn't try."

That was the last thing either of them said to each other. He knew what they were doing. The man didn't seriously expect Do-il to just agree to talk. He had been trying to buy time, likely to get his men into position or to at least let them figure out how they were going to approach him.

The plan they ended up going with was to rush him all at once.

It should have worked. There were too many of them, and there was only one of Do-il. They were trained and armed, and they were highly motivated.

But they weren't as motivated as Do-il.

He started moving toward the door a split second before any of his enemies made it out of cover. There wasn't that much space for him to move through, but that didn't matter when every foot was going to be heavily contested.

A man and woman were coming at him from either side, both with guns. Do-il ducked and dashed forward, getting himself squarely between both of them so that neither of them could fire without having to worry about shooting each other.

Do-il dropped to one knee and fired, the bullet going straight through the kneecap of the man, sending him staggering back before screaming and collapsing. While the man was still staggering, Do-il had already rolled to the side and come up right in front of the woman, who was still trying to find a firing solution that would spare her partner.

He didn't give her a chance. Do-il sprang up from a crouch and drove the woman back, grabbing her wrist and twisting, forcing her to drop the gun. At the same time, he spun her, getting her between him and anyone else who was armed.

Someone fired, but it was too late. The bullet impacted the woman, and he watched as her eyes widened and she gasped. She struggled, trying to get out of Do-il's hands, but her strength was fading fast and she couldn't break his hold.

He looked at her, the life fading from her eyes, but he felt nothing. No sympathy. No sorrow. She had put herself in this position. This had been her choice.

Someone else fired, this time pulling the trigger twice, and the woman's body jerked as Do-il rushed forward toward the door. She was dead now, truly dead, but her body would continue to serve the purpose that he needed.

Do-il threw her to the side as he approached the door, making sure that the body crashed into one of his pursuers, and then the rest of the remaining attackers rushed him. He could see their desperation in the way they moved.

And the fact that they were now firing at him without even bothering to aim.

"Kill him!" the bald man shouted.

"Oh, please shut up," Do-il muttered. He wasn't at the door yet, but he thought he could hear the sound of sirens approaching, and he knew that was his queue to leave.

A bullet whizzed past Do-il's head, so close that he could hear the air displaced as it flew by him. It slammed into the wall and a chunk of plaster exploded outwards.

"Don't shoot!" the bald man screamed, and Do-il knew exactly why. He was too close to the exit now. If they missed now, the bullets could easily end up outside. And that could mean collateral damage. "Stop him!"

There was only one man still within striking distance, and he attempted to tackle Do-il, launching himself as hard as he could. Do-il didn't even attempt to dodge, he just let the man come at him, grabbing him in midair and using the attacker's momentum against him. Do-il spun the man, slamming him so hard into the doors that they rattled.

He would have liked to have stuck around and made another comment at the expense of the bald man, but there was no time. So instead, he kicked the door open, holstering his gun at the same time, before bursting out into the night air, onto the street, and into the sound of the approaching emergency vehicles.

He didn't see In-joo, In-kyung, or Jong-ho, but he took that as a good sign. Maybe it meant that they had gotten away. But it could also mean that someone else had picked them up, and if that was the case, then he would never manage to—

He was wrong, and he was never happier to be so. Behind him, the door was flung open again, and the bald man came running out, but it didn't matter. A car came screeching up the curb, and In-joo flung the door open, and Do-il recognized it as the car that Jong-ho had rented to let them get around without having to rely on anyone else.

No one needed to tell him to get in. He dove into the back seat, landing with In-joo, and Jong-ho began to pull away as fast as he could. Outside, the bald man was chasing after them, yelling something, but Do-il couldn't make out any of the words.

He just let himself rest there, trying to catch his breath, doing his best to get his heart rate under control. The adrenaline was beginning to wear off, and he was starting to see how close to destruction they had all come.

"What the hell was that?" In-kyung asked in a strangled voice.

She knew what it meant. Do-il was well aware of how intelligent she was. But that didn't make it any easier to stomach,

"We were wrong," In-joo whispered, looking at Do-il with fear. She was brave, far braver than most would suspect, but Do-il had seen what she had gone through. "We thought we had stopped them."

"We did," said Do-il. "Now we just have to do it again."

At least now they had seen their enemy. At least now, they were aware of how far things had gone.

"We need to tell Ward," said In-joo.

"We need to talk to Min-jun," Doi-il replied. With the CIA and Interpol helping them, they would be able to do what they had thought already done. Jeongran would never see it coming.

As their car sped through the Los Angeles streets, Do-il couldn't allow himself to look away from the road. They could still be following them.

They could be anywhere.

And Do-il would never know until it was too late

Notes:

I hope you all had a lovely holiday! Thank you for coming back time and time again. I hope you all enjoy the new chapter, and that you're looking forward to the next.

Chapter 35

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Do you ever think about falling in love?"

It was a strange question, and it wasn't one that In-hye had a good answer for. She was sketching—she didn't have access to painting supplies right now, and Ward had told them in no uncertain terms that he would not be going out and getting more. But even without her preferred medium of creation, she still had work that needed to be done. It was practically bursting to escape her head. It needed to be out in the world.

"What do you mean?" In-hye asked.

Hyo-rin thought about it. "Well, your sisters are both in love, aren't they? Even Do-il looks like he is too, and I didn't think that was something he could even feel."

In-hye chuckled at that. The thought of serious, stoic Do-il being head over heels for In-joo was kind of a funny thought. But she did see the way they looked at each other. Even if they weren't quite in love, there was something there.

"I guess I do," said In-hye. "But it's so abstract. What does it mean? I don't really know."

Hyo-rin nodded. "When I think about love, it all sort of just blends together for me. Like I can almost see it before I really start focusing on it. And then it's just gone, and I can't make any sense of it."

In-hye kept sketching, but she heard fear in her friend's voice. "Does that scare you?"

"Sometimes. What happens if I never find out? Or what happens if I do find out, and I don't realize it until it's too late? Some things can't be taken back. I worry that I'll make the sort of mistake that can't be undone."

In-hye smiled. Not because she found Hyo-rin's worry funny, but because it was something so unique to the girl. It was something that only she would think. "Hyo-rin, I think I can promise you that when you fall in love, you'll know."

Hyo-rin didn't seem convinced. She didn't respond, but In-hye wasn't in a rush. She just continued her sketch, focusing intently on each line she added to the page. It didn't come as easily to her as painting, but she knew it was a vital part of her work.

Finally, Hyo-rin asked one simple question. "Why?"

In-hye shrugged. "Because whoever you fall in love with is going to tell you first."

Hyo-rin didn't seem to understand. "How do you know that?"

In-hye looked up from her drawing. That was a good question. How did she know that? Where had that even come from? "I... don't know. I just do."

"You're so confident, In-hye," Hyo-rin sighed. "I wish I could be like that."

"You can," said In-hye. "I think that if you take your time, you can be anyone you want."

The nice thing about being young was seeing how many possibilities were still before them. But In-hye understood the frustration and even fear that her sisters had dealt with before their lives had changed. They must have felt trapped—even more trapped than In-hye. At least she had possessed the benefit of youth. They had been stuck in jobs that had been going nowhere, surrounded by people who neither saw their talent nor appreciated what they were capable of doing.

"There are so many things I want to experience," Hyo-rin said. "The world is even bigger than I ever imagined."

"We'll get to do it all," In-hye assured her. "Once this is over, we'll be able to go anywhere you want."

"I hope that's true," Hyo-rin said.

In-hye looked back at her friend. "You've been so brave. Do you even know that?"

Hyo-rin's face was blank. "What do you mean?"

In-hye smiled and then shook her head. "Oh, never mind. You'll understand one day."

Hyo-rin sighed noisily. "Sometimes you act like you're so much older than everyone else, do you know that?"

In-hye laughed. "I do? Do you remember how this conversation started?"

Hyo-rin thought for a second and then grinned. "Okay. Well, I see your point."

In-hye's pencil began to move again. She wondered if everyone her age spent as much time thinking about things like this as she did. She knew her life was far from typical, but then again, she was just a girl, wasn't she? Even with the things she had seen, once you dove beneath the madness, the only thing that remained was In-hye the girl.

She was still figuring out who that girl was, true. But there was time for that. All the time in the world.

In-kyung knew that things were bad, but it wasn't until they made it back to the hotel and locked the doors behind them that it began to sink in just how bad it had gotten. Do-il looked so tense that he seemed about to explode at the seams, Jong-ho hadn't said a word since they had gotten back, and In-joo's wide eyes said it all.

Ward's face had gone hard once they had described what had occurred. In-kyung could tell that behind his stony mask, he was trying to draw connections between what had happened. She had wondered, briefly, if he had betrayed them—maybe he had found out that the money was gone, or maybe he had decided he was better off working with Soo-im.

But no. He seemed just as surprised by the turn of events as they had. And In-kyung knew why. Because his whole life had been dedicated to bringing down Jeongran, and now he was learning that his view of the situation had been hopelessly narrow the entire time.

"And you never knew anything about this?" Ward demanded, looking at Do-il. "How could they have never told you? You worked alongside two of the most powerful members of the entire society."

Do-il was doing his best to keep his calm, which was impressive, given how much distaste he clearly felt for Ward's line of questioning. "You're underestimating just how tangled their web was. I was told what I needed to know. I never even dreamed that it might have spread overseas."

"Who the hell knows how much bigger it could have gotten," Ward spat in disgust. "Europe? Africa? They could be anywhere! We'll never be free."

"You're wrong," Do-il said. "This wouldn't have happened if it wasn't for Soo-im. They said it themselves—they were only going after us because of a deal she made with them."

In-kyung shook her head. "Why would they even trust her? After everything she's done, haven't they learned that she only cares about herself?" She tried to not look at Ward, who was also guilty of trusting Soo-im.

"There's only one way," Ward said. "And that's if she gave them what they wanted. They're bound by the rules of Jeongran to work alongside her, even if she doesn't seem interested in those rules anymore."

"Kill her and it ends?" In-joo asked. The words sounded bitter as they left her mouth. In-kyung knew that her sister hated the idea of having to end it all in bloodshed, even if there was no other way.

Do-il didn't seem convinced. "They won't stop, not now that we know they exist. They were sloppy; they're clearly not as good as the Jeongran that we knew. But they have more resources, more manpower, and more knowledge than what we're working with. This only ends when we expose them."

In-kyung's heart sank. How were they supposed to do that? They had done it before, yes, but that had nearly killed all of them. They couldn't go through it again. They couldn't.

But Do-il was right. That was the only way out.

"I'm going to reach out to my superiors again," said Ward. "This is something they need to know about. Maybe now they'll be willing to support us."

"And I'll talk to Min-jun," In-joo said. Everyone looked at her in surprise. "He knows that he owes me. If I talk to him, maybe I can get something else out of him. I know he said he was going to work with us, but I think he's holding back."

"Probably because his team doesn't want him stepping outside his jurisdiction," In-kyung pointed out.

In-joo seemed unbothered. "Probably. But sometimes we have to do things we wouldn't normally do."

In-kyung couldn't argue with that. God knew she had needed to do exactly that more times than she could count lately.

And in her mind, she was beginning to formulate an idea of something that she could do. It was a long shot—and it did require them to split up again—but if it panned out, it could present them with the kind of opportunity that they needed. Jong-ho could come with her. Even In-hye could come with her, if she wanted. The presence of the younger girl might actually help her in achieving her goal.

And the presence of Jong-ho would help her remain calm, even when things seemed like they were veering toward impossible.

"What do we do if Soo-im doesn't come here?" In-kyung asked, to cover up the fact that she wasn't sharing what she was thinking.

"She will," said Do-il. "She's obsessed. If that man was telling the truth, then this is her only goal. After she kills us, I wouldn't be surprised if she stepped away from Jeongran forever. She's driven, but she isn't stupid. She must have learned by now just how little she can trust them."

"We have to end this," In-joo said. "And we don't have time to drag it out. We don't even know what Jeongran is doing here—who knows how many people they're hurting?"

Do-il sounded confident. "We know what to do. Ward, speak to the CIA. See if they can offer any help now that we have more concrete proof that something is happening and it directly involves American interests. Even if they can't help because it's happening here, they might be able to offer resources. In-joo, reach out to Min-jun. He might have discovered something on the Korean end."

"What will you do?" In-kyung asked Do-il.

The expression on his face said it all. Whatever he was planning, he didn't want to share with them. Maybe it was because he didn't know if it would work. Maybe it was because he didn't want to say it in front of Ward. Or maybe it was as simple as not wanting to make In-joo worry.

"I need to look into a few things," he said calmly. "But it shouldn't take long. I'll come back here as soon as I'm done. Don't leave without telling anyone where you're going. And Ward..."

Ward nodded. "I'll stay with the girls."

In-kyung felt a bizarre wave of gratitude toward Jack Ward. Despite what the man had put them through, he was starting to show that he could be a valuable ally—if it suited him. It did mean that In-hye wouldn't be able to come with her, the way In-kyung had been planning, but that was alright. Whatever kept her safe. That was most important.

Do-il was looking at In-kyung with an expression that indicated he knew she was hiding something. But he also didn't seem willing to ask what it was. He, of all people, knew that sometimes, secrets were necessary.

In-kyung gave Do-il a barely visible nod. That would have to be good enough. He redirected his attention elsewhere, as the conversation moved on. What she was thinking was probably a long shot. It might amount to nothing. But it was something she needed to look into, now that they were in America. It could explain everything.

Do-il left almost right away, only stopping briefly to assure In-joo that everything was fine, and that he would explain later. It wasn't a lie. He wasn't about to throw himself into danger, it was just one more thing that he needed to take care of in what seemed to be an endlessly growing list.

There were a few things he wanted to look into. The first was the finalization of the many transfers he had been executing. At this point, it would have taken a highly skilled and dedicated accountant to trace where it had all gone. That wasn't to say they had no money left—just that he had made sure any of the funds that he had swindled from Sang-a were now gone and safely tucked away.

The second thing was a little more dangerous. No one else needed to know that right now, but it was a possibility that was weighing on his mind. Even so, it wasn't something that he could let go of.

The thing was, he had been a member of Jeongran. And even though Park Jae-sang had kept the existence of the American branch a secret from him, his previous status as a member of Jeongran might afford him some... benefits.

The risk lay in the fact that Jeongran was actively looking for him and trying to kill him. While it was true that the Americans seemed far less effective than the Korean branch had been, it was plausible that if he attempted to masquerade as a member, they would catch on to him immediately.

Fortunately, he wasn't stupid enough to just walk up to their front door and tell them that he belonged there. No, his plan was something more subtle than that.

There were still plenty of things he didn't know. It was a shot in the dark, of course, but he still had a few personal objects that would identify him as a member of Jeongran. There were three possibilities. It would work, and they would believe him. They wouldn't recognize what he was talking about, and turn it away. Or they would recognize what he was talking about, but they would know that he was lying. That was where the danger came in.

It had only taken a little bit of research for him to identify several nearby financial firms that would be worthy of handling Jeongran's money. When he had worked for Park Jae-sang, he had been in charge of fairly hefty sums of money, and there were strict criteria that needed to be met before that money could be invested. Do-il was betting on the fact that those criteria were the same or at the very least similar for the American branch.

Do-il walked into the firm with purpose and confidence, refusing to either hesitate or slow down, even as a security guard jogged to catch up to him. "I'm sorry, sir, you can't just come in here without an appointment. If you'd like to schedule something, you could reach out to—"

Do-il whirled on the man, a haughty expression on his face. It was something he had seen countless times before, and it was something he emulated with ease. Sometimes he worried that it came too easily. Was this who he really was?

And then he thought of In-joo, and he knew that if someone like her could see good in him, then he couldn't be all bad.

"Do I look like I want to reach out to someone? I'm here to discuss an existing account. An account that should be of the highest priority to you," Do-il snapped in English.

The guard blinked and looked at Do-il with slight confusion. "I'm sorry, Mr.—?"

Do-il reached into his suit and withdrew a pocketbook. He opened it, and slipped out a small photo. It was a photo of a simple, singular object, one that would have meant nothing to an average person.

But to someone who recognized it, it spoke volumes.

After all, the blue orchid had already changed the course of the world.

"Pick up, please," In-joo whispered into the phone. But it just kept ringing and ringing. She couldn't reach Min-jun at all. It was like his phone was on, but just not receiving calls. Or he was ignoring her. It wasn't even going to voicemail.

She wanted to believe that it was nothing, that he was just busy and would get back to her later, but the sinking feeling in her stomach just continued to grow. "Please, Min-jun."

She felt for the officer. He wasn't a bad man. He was just someone who had been trying to do his job and had gotten drawn into a world that he never should have been part of. If something had happened to him as a result of all of this, she would have been heartbroken. Another good person, destroyed due to the greed of others.

Finally, the ringing went dead. She stared at her phone, then hurriedly dialed one more time, not really expecting anything to come of it.

She was shocked when he picked up after the first ring.

"In-joo?"

His voice was a whisper. She could hear the fear in it. And her heart sank even lower. "What is it?" she asked. "Are you okay? Did something happen?"

"We made a mistake," Min-jun muttered into the phone. "I can't talk long. I have to go. But you need to know that you can't trust anyone."

"I already don't," In-joo said desperately. "We already know. There's an American Jeongran. It could be even bigger than we had thought."

"It's worse than that," Min-jun said, and she could hear how defeated he was. "You need to tell Ward. He can't trust the CIA. I don't know how far it goes, but I know that some of them—"

And then, mid-sentence, the call went dead.

In-joo stared at her phone in horror. She could guess what he had been about to say, and that was bad enough. But for the call to drop midway?

He had sounded hurried. He had sounded terrified. Had someone been following him?

Tell Ward, was what he had said. Did Ward already know? Did he suspect?

Please, Do-il, please be safe, she begged silently, as she blindly exited her room to find Ward. She feared for the future. She prayed now, not for victory, but for safety. That would enough.

Notes:

Thanks for coming back for another chapter!

New Year's is coming for me, so I believe I will update as planned on the 31st, but I will likely take January 1st off to... recover. I plan on having a very fun New Year's Eve ^_^

I hope you've all had a lovely year and I hope your 2023 is full of joy and happiness. 2023 will also mark the end of this story, but don't worry, we're not there yet! I foresee this going through January and maybe into February a little. But the end is in sight for me-I have planned things out and begun to lay the groundwork.

Thank you, as always, for your comments and kudos. I'll see you all very soon!

Chapter 36

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Do-il stared at the files in front of him. The photo of the orchid had worked wonders, despite the fact that he had no real identification that marked him as a member of Jeongran. He had his knowledge of the past and he had the skills he had picked up after years of working with Park Jae-sang. And those things, combined with the fear of Jeongran that these people seemed to possess, had gotten him right to where he wanted to be.

No one had even questioned why he had wanted to see the financial statements. If he was who he claimed to be, they were things that he should have had easy access to anyway, but no one was willing to risk angering him.

The picture painted by the figures was alarming. The American branch of Jeongran seemed to have started much later, if he understood what he saw. Nothing was centralized, much in the same way that Park Jae-sang had started off. It was a loose collection of individuals with enormous financial sway and political power. But he could see patterns taking shape in the transference of funds—some were clearly bribes and some were transactions that were meant to be kept under the table. Even others looked like they were what Do-il had been doing with his money and the Oh sisters' money. People were trying to hide things, but they weren't doing a particularly good job of it.

He wondered if it was because things were different here. The United States functioned differently in terms of money and the excessively wealthy. That wasn't to say that Korea was much better—he knew firsthand just how easy it could be to get away with whatever you wanted, so long as you had the money to support it. But America operated on such a massive scale that it became even easier for things to slip through the cracks.

Proof of that was sitting on the table right in front of him.

The question was, what did he do with that proof? Taking it to the press would be a waste of time. But it was clear what had happened. After Jeongran had risen to the height of its power in Korea, after it had begun to twist into something it had never intended to be, it was spread overseas. It had started to take root elsewhere. And the United States was the perfect breeding ground.

It was ironic, really. Because without the CIA's involvement in the first place, Jeongran would have never sprung into existence. The United States' demand for the death of the Jeongran unit had been the genesis of the organization. And now, all these decades later, it was here in the United States, stronger than ever.

Do-il looked up at the financial officer who was seated across from him. "Thank you," Do-il said in a detached tone. "This has been... informative."

The officer nodded. "As always, we're happy to be able to work with you and your associates. Though it was a bit irregular to see you arriving without prior warning."

Do-il didn't allow his expression to change. "I'm sure. But I also wanted to make sure that there was nothing irregular in the way our affairs are being handled. Calling ahead would not have been necessarily conducive toward that goal."

The officer stared at Do-il. For a moment, Do-il wondered if the man was going to call him out, or at least question Do-il identity. But he said nothing. Do-il saw now the downside that fear could have. It kept people too scared to speak up or to question what was right in front of them.

He considered making copies of the documents he had been perusing and taking them with him, but there didn't seem to be a point. It would just raise more red flags and potentially put him in a situation that he didn't want to deal with.

"Is there anything else I can help you with?" the man asked.

"No," said Do-il. "Thank you for your time."

"If you wait here, I'll return these documents and then walk you out," the officer said with a slight bow.

"That won't be necessary—"

"It would be my pleasure."

Do-il sighed in annoyance, but nodded to indicate his acceptance. The financial officer scooped up the documents, returned them to the lockbox he had taken them out of, then smoothly exited the room, leaving Do-il by himself. Do-il only sat there for a few moments longer before standing and beginning to examine the features of the small office that he was in.

There wasn't much to identify who the office belonged to. Do-il had seen plenty of rooms like these—they were generic and simply designed to host clients while deals were made. Bland executive objects littered the shelves and the desk, each clearly placed carefully to achieve the maximum desired effect. Someone else might have been impressed by it. Do-il had seen it over and over again. It was just one more room in a long list of them.

Do-il reached out to pick up a small photograph, one that looked like it might have been of a small villa in Paris, when the door behind him opened up again, and a familiar face stepped in.

It was the bald man. The one from the restaurant. And Do-il knew then that the only reason they had given him the documents in the first place was to keep him there long enough for this man—whoever he was—to arrive. It hadn't been a trap at first, but it had turned into one almost immediately.

"When I heard someone had come here at this late hour, I was curious," the man said. "And then I realized that it must have been you. You're a clever man, Choi Do-il. Aren't you tired? Shouldn't you be getting some sleep?"

There was only one exit to the room, and the bald man was standing in front of him. Do-il couldn't see any reinforcements in the entryway, but that didn't mean they weren't hiding somewhere out of sight.

"Time doesn't care whether I'm tired or not," said Do-il. "Are you here to kill me?"

"I'm here to tell you that I think we got off on the wrong foot. But I'm glad you're here now. Surely you've seen what we're capable of."

Do-il shrugged. "I already knew what you were capable of. I used to be a member of your organization, remember?"

"Ah, Park Jae-sang," the bald man sighed. "His reach always did exceed his grasp. And that wife of his..."

"Yes, yes, you're so much better than them," Do-il interrupted. "Do you have a point to make here? Like you said, I could use some sleep."

"I'd like to properly introduce myself, first," the man said smoothly. "We haven't had a chance to sit down and talk it out, man to man."

"I'm not sure what gave you the idea that I would be interested in talking to you, but you're very mistaken."

"It doesn't have to be like that. You're a man of ambition, just like myself. There must be some sort of agreement that the two of us can reach."

Do-il stared at the man in disbelief. "You can't possibly think that. After everything I've done and everything that I've chosen to do, and you want to bribe me."

"My name is—"

"If we're being honest with each other, I don't care what your name is. I care about what you've already tried to do. There's no way you let me walk away from this alive. I'm not an idiot. I know what you've promised Soo-im, and I know that you won't turn your back on that promise. So let's get to the point. Are you going to try and kill me here? Or are you going to make some kind of ridiculous offer for me to shoot down?"

The bald man seemed taken aback by Do-il's straightforwardness. Maybe he had been expecting more of a polite response, something less aggressive. If that was the case, then he was going to be disappointed by how the rest of this conversation went.

"I thought we could handle this in a civilized way. My name is Isaac Chambers. I'd like to make you an offer."

"I've never heard of you," Do-il said flatly. "And I don't want anything to do with you."

"You've never heard of me because I've never wanted you to hear of me. We do things a little differently here than what you might have been used to in Jeongran. Believe me, I understand what Soo-im wants. But she can't have everything. I would be much more interested in having you as an ally. Compared to her, you could offer our organization so much more. You have her skills and her knowledge, but none of her baggage."

"I have plenty of baggage," said Do-il. "I'm not interested in any deals that don't include the people I'm with." He hadn't come this far just to turn on them. At this point, there was no amount of money that change things.

"We could work that out," Chambers said, but Do-il knew it was a lie. There was no future where they all just shook hands and walked away. They knew too much. Someone would have to go, and it was going to be people that Do-il wasn't willing to lose. "We could install you near the top of the organization. And we could turn Jeongran into what it was meant to be."

Do-il laughed bitterly. "Are you serious? Do you hear yourself? Do you even have the slightest idea of what Jeongran was meant to be? Because I promise you, whatever you're thinking isn't anywhere near the truth. Make your offer, so I can turn it down. And then you can try and stop me from leaving, and fail. But you should know that if you do try to stop me, I'm not going to let you walk away from here."

"Really? You're just going to kill me in broad daylight? What would that even accomplish?"

"I don't know," said Do-il. "What did you think talking to me was going to accomplish?"

"I thought you might see that accepting your position with us was better for your life expectancy. I am beginning to see what I was wrong."

Do-il shook his head. "You're beginning to see. Beginning? You people are delusional. All of you. You've always been delusional. You think this world is your playground, but you're no different than the rest of us. You'll fight in the dirt just to get what you want. If Park Jae-sang and Sang-a weren't able to kill me, what makes you think that you'll be able to?"

Chambers sighed. "Because whatever you saw here was only the start of what we've accomplished in this country. Money is important, there's no denying that. But there are some things that money can't buy. Some forms of power that go beyond a numerical value. And that's why we'll be able to change the world."

Do-il was ready for it. It seemed like Isaac Chambers, whoever he was, was a brilliant man with near limitless resources. However, it was also rather obvious that he was not a fighter, because he had telegraphed practically every step that he had taken. Do-il could tell that the man was attempting to box off Do-il's access to the exit, to corner him into a situation where he could easily be executed. Do-il assumed this meant that Chambers had a gun, likely with a silencer attached.

Do-il didn't give Chambers a chance to draw the gun. Instead, Do-il reached for one of the objects on the shelves, this one an elaborate paperweight that looked to be made of solid glass. He hurled it at Chambers, moving forward while he did so.

It happened so fast that Chambers wasn't able to react. The man staggered as the paperweight struck him, drawing blood from a cut on his head. Do-il didn't bother executing a complex strike or even a tackle. He simply shoved Chambers as hard as he could. The push combined with the loss of balance from the paperweight was more than enough to send Chambers toppling over backwards. He landed hard, so stunned by the sudden assault that he didn't even have time to cry out.

Do-il knew he didn't have long. He ran for the doorway, slamming the door behind him. A security guard gave him a strange look as he emerged, but said nothing. Do-il wondered how many of the employees here were on Jeongran's payroll.

He'd have to take a chance.

"I'm ready to leave," he said in a commanding voice. "My business here is done. Show me to the exit."

The guard seemed startled, but nodded, and began to comply. Do-il glanced behind him. He had no doubt that Chambers was enraged. But there was nothing the man could do now that Do-il was no longer trapped in the room with him.

Do-il walked quickly. The sooner he was out of this building, the better.

In-kyung had told In-joo and the rest that she was going to be gone for a few days, but she didn't tell them where. None of them liked it, not even Ward, who didn't have any real reason to care about her safety beyond wanting to get his hands on her money. They had all pointed out (rightfully) that every time one of them had gone off on their own, it had ended badly. It was an especially bad idea now that they knew for a fact that they were being hunted.

But she had insisted. Jong-ho had quietly supported her, even though he hadn't known where they were going either. It was just one more example of the kind of person he was. Short of physically restraining her, there was no way that they were going to be able to stop her from going, and that was the end of the discussion.

She knew that she was being stubborn, and she was well aware that it probably wasn't a great idea. But she couldn't let Ward know where she was going. She knew that if he found out, he would never allow it. He might actually decide to physically restrain her if he knew, consequences be damned.

So she kept it to herself, not even telling Jong-ho, even though he was with her. And he never asked. He just trusted. It didn't matter that they were headed to an airport. It didn't matter that they were clearly about to fly across the country. He followed her anyway.

"You've been so good to me," she said, as they were comfortably settled on the plane.

He looked surprised that she had even said something like that. "I'm just doing what I know how to do."

"I know. And that's part of what makes it mean so much."

Jong-ho settled back into his seat. "Are you sure it was a good idea getting on this plane? If they're tracking us..."

"It's going to be worth it," In-kyung said. "I looked into something. And there's someone else that we need to talk to."

Jong-ho grinned. "Nam Woo-jin is back in Korea, we're not flying back, are we?"

In-kyung laughed. "No, we're not. But you're on the right track."

Jong-ho didn't seem bothered by the fact that he still didn't know their destination. "I'm sure you know what you're doing," he said. "But you've got me beat. I don't have any idea."

They hadn't brought much with them. But there were two things that In-kyung had made certain to pack, because they were part of the whole reason she had even decided to leave in the first place. And both objects had come from Nam Woo-jin. The file and the box, along with the coded documents that she had been unable to read.

She didn't know for sure, but she had a hunch that the person she wanted to see would be able to help her make sense of what they had been given.

"I didn't want to say anything to Ward," she said. "Because I want to speak to his father."

Now Jong-ho turned and looked at her with a bit of apprehension on his face. "You want to do what?"

"I think if anyone could help us connect the dots that are left, it would be him," said In-kyung. "And from what we've heard, he's out of the game. He won't be working with Jeongran. He won't be working with anyone."

"He might just want to be left alone," Jong-ho pointed out.

"Maybe. But we have to try," said In-kyung. "Wither everything that Do-il and In-joo have done... we have to try."

This was what she did best. Making the connections that other people either didn't see or weren't willing to pursue. If it worked, it could give them the final push they needed to find a way out of this mess. If not, then at least she would know that she had tried.

"I hope he's a little more accommodating than his son," said Jong-ho.

In-kyung didn't respond. She was busy thinking about the effect that parents had on their children, about the way relationships could tear apart lives. She wondered how Ward would have turned out if his father had been present. She thought about her own parents, and the way their mother had left them on their own, and how that had led to where she was right now.

Sometimes, life seemed like nothing more than a series of impossible chances, executed one after another. There was no reason that she should have made it here. There was no reason for any of it.

But somehow, here she was anyway.

"I love you," she said, looking at Jong-ho.

He turned to her, looking surprised at first, before smiling gently at her. "I love you too."

Sometimes, life let you rediscover people like Jong-ho. And that meant the world was worth fighting for, even against all other odds.

Notes:

Happy New Year everybody! Thank you so much for making the end of my year so rewarding and fun. I've been having the time of my life, and having this community has made a huge difference to me. I really appreciate each and every one of you. I hope you all eat good food, drink lots of water (and other drinks :D ), and have a wonderful 2023. I'll see you in a few days! The next chapter might be three days, depending on if I take a day off.

Until then, be well!

Chapter 37

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"I need you to tell me every single thing that he said," Do-il said carefully.

In-joo could tell that he was trying to not alarm her, but it really didn't matter. She was already alarmed. The call, combined with the fact that In-kyung had chosen to leave, had sent her spiraling off into a hurricane of alarm.

"He said we had to tell Ward that we couldn't trust anyone. Not even the CIA. I tried to ask him more, but he was gone before I had the chance. I didn't know what else to do." In-joo needed to remind herself that despite the experiences she had gone through, this was still something that she had never gotten used to. Something that she probably shouldn't get used to.

"There was nothing else you could have done. Did you talk to Ward yet?"

In-joo shook her head. "No. I didn't tell anyone. I wanted to wait to be able to talk to you." She realized that Do-il's clothing was moderately disheveled and she raised an eyebrow. "Did something happen to you? Are you alright?"

Do-il seemed both surprised and distracted. "What? Why? Anyway, that's not the point right now."

In-joo knew him well enough to know when he was trying to change the subject. "Oh no, you don't get to do that. What happened?"

"We can talk about it later," Do-il said, his voice growing a little frustrated. "Let's focus on your situation first. We should talk to Ward. We need to all be on the same page."

"I never thought I'd hear you saying that." In-joo smiled at Do-il. He stared back at her for a moment before his own face broke into a smile.

"We do change, don't we? And we don't even realize that it's happening."

"Isn't that a good thing?" In-joo asked. "If we only changed when we realized it, we'd never get much of anything done at all."

"It's a good thing until you realize that you're changing into the kind of person that wants to speak to Jack Ward," Do-il sighed. "When this is over and we're finally free from the web of conspiracies and ambition, I think I'm going to want to take a long vacation."

"Didn't you already have one of those?"

Do-il shrugged. "This time, things will be different. Because you'll be there."

That was the difference, wasn't it? Neither of them were alone. Not in any way that mattered anymore. It meant that In-joo could see a future worth fighting for. And she knew that it meant Do-il saw a world where he didn't have to live the way he had been living for so long. There were other paths. All they had to do was take them.

"Now what happened to you?" In-joo asked, not willing to let it go. She knew that if it was up to him, he would never tell her, simply because he wouldn't want her to worry. But she knew that right now, while those kinds of thoughts were noble, they weren't actively helpful. She needed to know as much as possible. They all did.

Do-il looked defeated, and he didn't bother arguing with her anymore. He briefly explained what had happened, and she could tell that he was leaving out some of the more... harrowing details. She could live with that at least.

"Who is he?" In-joo finally asked.

Do-il seemed to struggle with the answer for a little before responding. "I'm not sure if it matters. Based on what he told me, it seems like Jeongran here isn't trying to run things in the public eye. They're not like Park Jae-sang. It's closer to what Jeongran was supposed to be, but still twisted up by greed. They have power, but they're wielding it all from the shadows. We might not ever know who he is. That might not even be his real name. And if it is, it still doesn't tell us anything. He's probably just one more person who decided that money wasn't enough. That he needs to control the fates of others too."

"I'm just glad your safe," said In-joo.

Do-il paused, then smirked. "I'd have to say that I'm glad about that too."

In-hye listened to what Do-il and In-joo told Ward. None of it seemed very surprising. The list of people In-hye genuinely trusted had never gone beyond those closest to her.

She reflected that now, though, that least seemed to be longer than it ever had been before. Her circle had grown, and it seemed like that growth had brought a kind of warmth to her existence that had been missing for a long time.

Ward was silent the entire time that Do-il and In-joo were talking to him. In-hye could almost see the thoughts forming in his mind as he took in everything they told him. He also appeared to be mildly surprised that they were telling him at all. But In-hye knew that now, they needed every ally they could get. And if that meant Jack Ward, then so be it.

When they finished speaking, Ward sat in silence, digesting what he had heard. When he did respond, his voice sounded almost defeated.

"I didn't know for sure, but I've suspected. I think that you probably have too." He looked at Do-il, who gave no indication whether the statement was true or not. "You know what I'm afraid of. And this isn't confirmation, but it would explain why the agency has been trying so hard to get me to drop the operation and come back in."

In-hye, at first, didn't understand what he was saying. She knew most aspects of their situation, but how did this relate to the agency and Min-jun? What sort of confirmation was Ward looking for...?

And then In-hye did understand. Because there was only one reason right now that they couldn't trust anyone—because once again, anyone could be part of Jeongran.

Was it possible that they had gotten into the CIA?

There was a sort of poetic justice to it. The CIA had been key in the unjust actions that had created Jeongran decades ago. If they had been infiltrated now, things would have come full circle.

"What do you think we should do?" Do-il asked Ward, once again showing that his animosity toward the CIA agent was simmering down. They would never be friends, but they could at least work together.

"I don't trust them anymore at this point regardless of what Min-jun said. I won't be contacting them again. And if they reach out to me, they don't need to know anything about what's happening here. At least not until it's over."

In-hye chose that moment to speak up. She didn't know if they cared about her input, but she wanted to make her thoughts known. "And when does it end?"

They all turned to look at her as if they had forgotten she was even there.

"At what point does it all stop?" she asked. "Because it just looks like a circle. A loop of people hurting each other, and there is no beginning or ending. It's been happening since before we were born. And I think it'll keep happening after we're gone."

"We have to kill Soo-im," said Ward.

"I don't want to kill anyone," In-joo countered.

Ward didn't seem willing to accept that. "Then this doesn't end. The Americans don't have any connection or tie to us. She has to die. Once she's gone, there won't be anyone left with the resources or even desire to hurt any of you."

"There has to be another way!"

Do-il was saying nothing, but In-hye could see the look on his face. He didn't want to argue with In-joo, but it was becoming more clear that he agreed with Ward.

"Like having her arrested?" Ward asked. "Jeongran has enough influence to buy the courts. The American arm will just do everything they can to get her free. And even if she does end up in prison, that won't stop her reach. She can be just as dangerous to us from there."

In-joo was visibly furious. "So we become murderers, just because it's convenient? Do-il, tell him there's another way."

Do-il, though, remained silent. In-joo turned to look at him. "What? Don't tell me..."

Do-il's voice was slow and quiet. "I don't want to kill anyone else either. You know that. That's always been beyond what I was willing to do, and I've only ever considered it as a last resort. But in this case, I'm not sure that there is another way. I'm not sure she'll even leave us that option. If it comes down to her life or the lives of quite literally anyone else, I already know who I'm going to pick."

"Do-il..."

"I'm not looking to become a murderer."

Ward stepped back. He seemed to understand that this conversation was no longer about him. In-hye could tell that once, Jack Ward might have been able to be someone different. That chance had been stolen from him, and he had never managed to recover it.

Do-il continued. "But I refuse to let someone take away the happiness that I've found for myself. I finally understand something about myself and the world. And I'm going to do what it takes to make sure I can defend that."

In-joo was clearly unhappy about the definitive statement that Do-il was making, but In-hye knew that her sister couldn't argue too much against it. Because In-joo would do the same thing if it came down to it.

"She'll come here," said Do-il. "She won't be able to help herself. She's obsessed at this point. Whatever she was trying to do, that goal is long gone. The only thing she cares about anymore is making sure I'm dead. Making sure we're dead."

In-hye shivered. To be so fixated on one goal—it was something she understood. But a goal like that? In-hye couldn't imagine attaching her personal happiness to the downfall of other human beings. Even at the height of her greed and ambition, she had only been fixated on herself.

Now, she had changed. Her priorities had expanded beyond herself. The world was bigger now.

"Thank you," she said quietly.

Everyone turned to look at her again.

"For what?" Do-il asked.

"I understand now," she said. In-hye was hyper-aware of the fact that Hyo-rin was staring at her. She felt her face grow slightly warm, but she kept talking anyway. "I get it."

Do-il smiled at her. "I know. But you don't need to thank me. Because I didn't understand it either."

In-hye once again felt a strange connection to the older man. She wondered what he had been like as a child. Had he been as full of confusion as she was? Had he been as lost as she had been? Had he too been looking for an anchor in the sea of life?

In-hye had found her anchor. So had Do-il, but it had taken him much, much longer.

They were the same, in a way. Separated by years, but the same nonetheless. In-hye was glad that In-joo had found him. They suited each other well.

"I want to live," said In-hye. "And I don't mean that I just want to be alive. I want to really live, without having to worry about what's going to happen tomorrow." That was the best way she could think to articulate what was on her mind. She knew it wasn't enough, and the words felt inadequate as they left her mouth, but she also could sense a kind of significance. In this moment, a corner had been turned.

They were headed toward an ending. What it was, she couldn't tell yet. But it was approaching.

"You will," said Do-il. "We all will. I'll make sure of it."

In-hye trusted him entirely. Yet she couldn't shake the suffocating feeling that came from her memory of death. The sight of the world shrinking down to a narrow circle, blackness on every side. It didn't frighten her anymore, at least not the way that it once had.

But it was still there, a permanent part of her. She hoped it was only a memory and not a premonition. Not because she feared for herself, but because she didn't want to leave her sisters or Hyo-rin alone. She wasn't ready for that yet.

She wasn't sure if she would ever be ready. But for now, there was too much left that she wanted to do.

The plane touched down in South Dakota a few hours later. It was a quiet, empty location, and In-kyung could immediately see why someone who wanted to get away from the rest of the world would want to be here. As they had begun to descend, In-kyung had looked out over the plains and felt a sense of peace and calmness that had been absent from her life for quite some time.

She wondered about Ward's father. From what she had seen, he had done little with his life since leaving the CIA. In-kyung could see why. His family had disintegrated, and it seemed like he had never managed to accomplish much in his time at the agency.

In-kyung wondered what it would be like to watch your years pass by and know that everything you had tried to build had fallen apart. She was someone who had always been motivated by the good she had done. What would have happened if she had never uncovered the conspiracy? Would she have worked the rest of her life in a dead end position for a news organization that never valued her?

That kind of bitterness could change a man. She hoped it wouldn't prevent Jonathan Ward from speaking to them.

He had named his son after him it had seemed. But according to Nam Woo-jin, their relationship had disintegrated to practically nothing. It made sense. Jack Ward was a highly motivated, ruthless individual, who would stop at nothing to achieve his goals. Jonathan Ward seemed like he had never been willing to go that far. In-kyung could understand how that might drive a wedge between them.

The drive to Jonathan Ward's house was quiet. There was hardly any traffic at all, a stark contrast from her experiences in other parts of America. They didn't actually know if the man would be home, but if he wasn't, they were both prepared to wait. Based on what little information she had been able to find, it seemed like he didn't get out much anyway. If he had gone somewhere, she was relatively sure that he would return within the day.

They could wait. It would be worth it.

She was, for some reason, feeling nervous about it. It wasn't that she thought that Jonathan was going to be dangerous. He would be older now—not old enough to be invalid, but old enough that she was certain that she and Jong-ho could survive if it came down to it. It was more that she was nervous about what he was going to say to them.

In her time as a reporter, she had encountered plenty of stories that had pained her to cover. She had a feeling that this would be yet another.

The problem with reporting was that you couldn't change things. You could only talk about what had already happened. You could only hope that the rest of the world might heed your story and take steps to change the future.

In her experience, the world rarely listened until it was too late.

When they arrived at the house, they had to pull onto a dirt road just to approach it. It seemed par for the course, given the area they were in, but it was such a large contrast from where they had come from that it still took her by surprise.

The house was a small ranch house, a single floor surrounded by wide open land. She wondered if there had once been farmland here. Now, there seemed to be nothing. Jong-ho parked the car and they both slowly approached the door. The only sound they could hear was the whistling of the wind through the barren hills around them. It was like the emptiness had absorbed all of the sound that had once filled the area.

Jong-ho knocked and then stepped back. Once again, In-kyung was acutely aware of her own nervousness. Had they come this far for nothing? Would he simply turn them away and ignore their request to speak?

And if he did agree to speak to them, what would he say? Did she really want to hear it?

The door opened to reveal an older man with graying (though still full) hair and a lined face. He was younger than Nam Woo-jin—considerably so—but he looked almost just as tired.

"Can I help you?" He sounded confused at the sight of his visitors. He sounded like he was looking forward to being left alone. "I think you might have the wrong address."

Jong-ho looked down the dirt road with an amused expression. "I don't know. I kind of think we might have the right place."

"Sir, we have some questions for you. We're not with anyone official. We're just two civilians who are in a bit of trouble. I know you probably don't want to speak to us. But it has to do with your son." In-kyung fought to keep the desperation out of her voice.

Jonathan Ward's face shifted. "My son? Do you know my son?"

"We've... well, our paths have crossed. Things are a little complicated right now, and I think you might be able to help us."

Jonathan sighed. "I haven't talked to my son in a very long time. I think you might be better off reaching out to someone else."

In-kyung wasn't ready to give up. "We've come a very long way, Mr. Ward. Please. Anything you might be able to tell us could help."

The older man looked at both of them, then seemed to slightly deflate. "You might as well come in. I don't think I'll be able to offer you any help. It's been years since I've been able to help anyone. Is Jack alright?"

In-kyung hesitated before responding. How did she even respond to that?

"There's a lot you need to hear about. It's more complicated than you might think."

Notes:

Thank you for returning for another update!

Just as a heads-up, I may take a few days off next week to work on other obligations, but I will return swiftly to continue working on this. Thank you for your patience and for sticking around. I'll see you all very soon!

Chapter 38

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Jonathan Ward spoke quietly. He moved carefully. He had the air of a man who was walking around in a house made of cards, one that could come toppling over at any moment. In-kyung almost felt bad for him.

It was a strange occurrence that had been happening more and more often lately. People whom she once would have thought of as her enemies were appearing to her in a much more sympathetic light. The world was never black and white, that was something that she had learned quickly in her reporting career. It was only more obvious now given the circumstances that she consistently found herself in.

He had offered to make them coffee. In-kyung had accepted, partially out of politeness and partially because she was exhausted from the flight. It was one thing that she had never quite gotten used to.

"What can I do for you?" Jonathan asked as he brought the pot to the dining room table where they were sitting. The house had all the telltale signs that it had once belonged to a member of the military. Everything was in its proper place, everything was organized and almost unnaturally neat and clean.

In-kyung had been trying to think of how to explain the situation to him. He would have had at least some knowledge of it, given his former position in the CIA.

"That's a little complicated," said In-kyung.

"It's my son," Jonathan said with a sigh. "It's always going to be complicated."

Jong-ho accepted the coffee gratefully. "What happened between the two of you? We talked to Nam Woo-jin—"

Jonathan smiled a little wistfully, and appeared to be searching for the right words. "Oh, that old warhorse is still alive?" He bowed his head. "You'll have to excuse me. My Korean isn't what it once was."

"He's alive. He talked about you a little bit. He talked about your father." In-kyung wasn't sure if that was something that she should bring up, but it was the truth.

Jonathan didn't look surprised to hear that. "My family suffered as a result of what we had done. Jack blamed the survivors and turned it into an obsession. My father, Thomas... well, he blamed himself. I didn't blame anyone. But I made plenty of mistakes of my own. Are you working with my son? If you don't mind me asking, who are you?"

In-kyung and Jong-ho exchanged a look and In-kyung nearly laughed. Wasn't that the question? Who were they really? Just two random people who had been unfairly sucked into a life of utter chaos.

"I used to be a reporter," said In-kyung. "But now, I'm just Oh In-kyung. I didn't want to become part of this. It just happened."

Jonathan nodded. "I could tell. You walk like someone who isn't used to the clothing they're wearing."

In-kyung wondered if what he said had been something of a translation issue, but she realized that it was also probably true. Despite the wealth that she now enjoyed, it was something that she hadn't gotten used to. A year hadn't been enough. "That's true, isn't it?"

Jong-ho placed his hand on top of hers. "We're just people who are trying to do right in the world. And it's getting harder and harder every day."

In-kyung started to do her best to describe what they had gone through. There obviously wasn't time to get into all of the details, but she did her best to make sure that Jonathan understood the gravity of what they were facing. He had already learned about what had happened in Korea. Given his past, anything about the Jeongran society would have immediately been on his radar.

What he didn't know about was the activities of his son.

"I haven't spoken to him in years," Jonathan said when In-kyung was finished. "I wish this came as a surprise to me. But he's always been obsessed. He cut off ties to me eventually. He believed that I hadn't been doing enough to repair our family's legacy. Maybe he was right. All these years later, and I still don't know what the right thing to do was. I did wrong by him. But he never asked to be born into this family. I know it doesn't excuse his actions, it's just that... I remember him as a boy. I was never there enough. And when I was there, I wasn't... present. Is it any wonder things turned out like this?"

"He isn't all bad. Despite everything that he's said and done, there's more to him than that. We can be more than the mistakes we've made," In-kyung said.

Jonathan looked defeated. "I'm not sure there's much I can do for you. My connection to him was lost a long time ago."

In-kyung reached for the bag she had brought with her. This was the moment she had been waiting for. This was the whole reason she had come here, because she had a feeling that Jonathan Ward was the man who would be able to answer a question that had been on her mind for a long time.

"When we saw Nam Woo-jin, he gave us something," said In-kyung. "I tried to make sense of it, but most of it was coded, and it wasn't in any code that I've ever seen before." She removed the folder and the box that Woo-jin had entrusted to her. "Something told me that you might recognize it. He told me that you had worked alongside him. He didn't tell me what this was, but I had a feeling that you'd be able to make some sense of it."

Jonathan took both objects, then slowly opened the folder and laid the contents out on the table in front of him. He was silent as he looked over them. The documents in the folder hadn't been coded, and In-kyung had been able to read them easily, but she had brought them with her anyway in the name of transparency.

"What's this?" he asked after a few moments had passed.

"The folder contains detailed information relating to the decisions made around the Vietnam war and the South Korean unit that later went on to form the Jeongran Society. It wasn't anything new, but it was at least from a new perspective. As far as we had known, there weren't any hard records detailing that left."

Jonathan didn't seem to understand. "None of this is coded. And I don't see how this helps you."

In-kyung indicated the box. "That... I think that might be something else. I couldn't make any sense of it, and I've seen the declassified military codes from the Vietnam war. I looked into it, and it didn't match anything that Woo-jin should have been able to legally acquire."

Jonathan opened the box. He carefully removed the paperwork from the inside, all of the documents that In-kyung had been unable to read. And then he didn't say anything for a very long time.

In-kyung felt herself growing nervous. What had she just handed him? Why wasn't he saying anything? Had they made the journey for no reason at all? She glanced at Jong-ho, but as always, he appeared impassive.

Finally, Jonathan broke his silence.

"This is... something I haven't seen in a very, very long time. I'm not surprised that you weren't able to read it. There aren't many people left alive that would be able to."

Jong-ho leaned in, his face now very interested. "What is it? Why isn't it readable?"

"Because it's written in a code that wasn't ever used beyond a small handful of individuals. My father was one of them. I was one of them. I don't know if Nam Woo-jin knew the code, but it seems like he might have. I wonder where he got this from. I wonder if it was my father." Jonathan looked like he was lost in memories of days passed.

In-kyung wondered about his regrets. Did he consider himself too far removed from the past to do anything about it? Or did he still harbor hope that things might be able to one day change for him? In-kyung couldn't imagine living a life like that. The idea of bearing that weight every day for years was too much for her.

"Can you decode it for us?" Jong-ho asked.

But In-kyung already knew the answer. It was written on his face. And she was suddenly once again afraid that all of this had been for nothing, and that the box would remain a mystery, never to be solved.

"I can't," he said, and In-kyung's heart sank. But then, he continued speaking. "But there is someone else who can. I can only provide half the cipher. It might be enough to read some of it, but it won't be enough to get anything else definitive."

"What do you mean?" Jong-ho was staring at the paper in confusion.

"When we created this code, we made sure that no one person would be able to read it. It was a... bonding activity, I guess you could say. I never thought I'd see it again. It wasn't something that we used on official documents. It was something our family had created."

"Did your father create this?" In-kyung asked.

Jonathan stared at the papers. "I don't know. If you give me some time, I can work on my part of the cipher."

"Who will work on the other half?" In-kyung questioned, even though she already knew the answer and was dreading the reply.

"There's only one other person who I know will be able to read it," said Jonathan. "You know him very well. My son. Jack."

In-kyung's stomach sank at the response. Would he help them? Would he even care? She thought that if it gave them a chance of ending the conflict, then he would do whatever it took. But this time, they would be relying on him and only him.

"Thank you," she said finally. "Thank you for everything."

"I hope it does some good," Jonathan said sadly. "It would be nice to be able to say that I helped someone in the end."

In-kyung and Jong-ho stepped outside to the front porch while Jonathan worked on the cipher. It was still shockingly quiet out, an unsettling difference from what they had grown used to from being in the city.

"This country feels so big," said In-kyung. "I know it is. I know that's the point. But to go from Los Angeles to this... it's so strange to me."

"Korea has plenty of places like this," Jong-ho pointed out. "It's not all cities."

In-kyung nodded. "I know. And I've seen them. It's just something about the sense of scale here. Maybe it's just because I'm so used to what it was like to live in that tiny apartment in Korea."

"Do you think it's better here?" Jong-ho asked mildly.

In-kyung shook her head. "No. It's not better. They have their own set of problems here. And my perspective is different now, of course."

Jong-ho nodded and stared out over the rolling hills that stretched out into the horizon. "Would you ever want to live somewhere like this?"

In-kyung had been thinking about that, and she didn't really have an answer. She couldn't imagine herself being somewhere this quiet. She always felt like she needed to be doing something. It was hard to believe just how much their plans had been interrupted. It wasn't that long ago that they were just living their lives, finally doing what they wanted to.

What would it be like to return to that? She hoped they could find out soon.

"I like the peacefulness," she said. "But I wonder if the only reason I like it is because of how little peace I've had lately. I think I need to be somewhere where I can be doing something. Where I can be making a difference."

Jong-ho grinned, but didn't say anything.

"What?" In-kyung asked.

"I had a feeling you were going to say that."

In-kyung pretended to be offended. "Really? Is that funny?"

"It's part of the reason I fell for you," he said with a smile.

"Only part?"

Jong-ho looped his arms around her waist. "Just one. Do you want me to count the reasons?"

"I don't think we have that much time," In-kyung said playfully, before leaning in to kiss him. Lately, it had felt like the world had been moving too fast. There was barely time to feel like a whole person, let alone a couple. It was nice to be able to slow down, even if it was just for a little. There were no enemies out here. No conspiracies trying to rip them apart. Just... peace.

"I missed this," said Jong-ho, looking into her eyes.

"What specifically?" she asked, grinning.

"Nothing specific. Just this."

Even though he couldn't explain it any further than that, it didn't matter. She knew what he meant. In-kyung didn't know how much longer it would take Jonathan to work with the code, but she was determined to enjoy every second they could get together. She had learned just how precious time was. And she would make sure to not waste a second of it.

Do-il felt strangely awkward about it, but it was something that he wanted to do anyway. Something about it seemed necessary, and so he forced himself to continue through despite the fact that he wasn't even sure what he would say.

He returned to the hotel carrying a large bundle, which he had deliberated over for quite some time before purchasing it. It certainly hadn't been a question of money. It had more just been the fact that he was completely out of depth and hadn't possessed the first idea of what he had even been looking for.

In the end, he had just done his best, making use of the internet and the assistance of the clerk at the store.

In-hye and Hyo-rin were in the living room of the suite when he walked in, the bundle in his hands. They both looked at him with curiosity, but said nothing. As always, he was amazed at their level of maturity and discretion. But that was because of how much they had gone through—no child should have to deal with the kind of thing that they did.

If he could give them back a little bit of comfort, then he would.

"I thought this was something you might be able to use," he said, his words feeling stilted in his mouth. "We left Korea so fast, and I know you weren't able to bring everything with you that you wanted."

He gently handed the two of them the bundle. It was so big that they needed to share the weight of it as they placed it on the ground and began to unroll and reveal what was in it.

Do-il stepped back and felt a wave of satisfaction swell inside of them as the two girls were able to see what he had purchased. It was a wide variety of artists' supplies, carefully prepared and packaged both by him and the woman who had assisted him at the store. Paints, brushes, easels, and all the paraphernalia that he thought they might be able to make use of while they were in the hotel.

"There's canvas too," he said as he watched them remove each object. "But I'm having the front desk bring those up. I didn't know what size, so I went with a wide variety of them."

Both girls were looking at him with wide eyes. Neither of them seemed capable of speaking. Do-il, uncharacteristically, found himself fumbling for words. "It just seemed to me that the two of you have to spend too much time in here. I thought it was a waste of your talents for you to be unable to create something."

In-hye opened and closed her mouth. He had seen her quiet, he had seen her frustrated, he had seen her defiant and strong. But he had never seen her so completely at a loss.

"This is..." she stopped and looked at everything. "You didn't have to do this."

"I know. But that isn't the point," said Do-il.

"Thank you," In-hye said, and she sounded very young, even younger than she was. "This is... this is so kind. I..."

And then, in a turn of events that Do-il would have never been able to predict, In-hye burst into tears.

Hyo-rin immediately put her arms around In-hye and pulled her close. Do-il simply stood there, with no idea what to do. He had not expected this kind of reaction. He hadn't been sure at all of what he was expecting, but this was well beyond what he knew how to deal with.

It was like something took over his body. His actions barely felt like they were under his control as he crossed the room to the two of them. "This is going to end soon," he said. "I'm going to make sure of it. This is no way for anyone to live."

In-hye let go of Hyo-rin and then threw her arms out, pulling Do-il into a hug before he even had a chance to react. He was so startled that for a moment, he just stood there, frozen. Then, with great care, he returned the hug, almost apprehensively.

"Thank you, Do-il. You don't understand what this means to me."

That was true. He didn't. He had never learned. He had a feeling that if his life had been different, then maybe he would have known, but in that moment, it didn't matter. He could see enough on her face. He could hear enough in her words.

If she could create something, maybe that would set her world right. Maybe that would make her feel like things were normal, at least while her brush was on the canvas.

And maybe for now, that was enough.

Notes:

I had a very good time writing this chapter. Things are starting to unfold, and I can see the path to the ending beginning to build itself. We still have quite a few chapters left, so don't worry yet, but the end is in sight and approaching.

When we get closer to the end, I believe I will step away for some time to write all the final chapters at once, so I can present them to you daily, with no interruptions. It will be worth the wait, I promise.

Thank you for reading, and I hope you enjoyed!

Chapter 39

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In-joo couldn't stop herself from worrying. It was hard to feel safe anywhere now, given the fact that they had learned that Jeongran could be anywhere. Ward had lapsed into silence, and seemed to have little if anything to add to their situation. She wondered if he was keeping anything from them. She wondered if it mattered

Do-il had done something unbelievably thoughtful for In-hye. In-joo had known for some time just how caring Do-il could be, even though he had a hard time showing it. What he had done for In-hye and Hyo-rin though had allowed the rest of them to see that side of him.

In-hye had been so touched by it that she hadn't even been able to talk about it. Do-il had seemed a little uncomfortable talking about it too, and had just kept muttering, "It seemed like something she needed."

In-joo supposed that was true.

Even when the world was falling apart, there were still opportunities for happiness.

The one thing that she couldn't get off her mind was Min-jun's fate. Ever since his last, prematurely ended phone call, they had heard nothing from him. She hoped he was still alive and safe. His involvement in this had only happened because his conscience hadn't let him step away after everything In-joo had been through.

It was unbelievable to her that this had all started because Ward had gotten her arrested on false pretenses, just for the purpose of bringing her whole family back into Korea. Things had spiraled so far out of control that the situation was barely recognizable anymore.

The thought of Do-il having to kill Soo-im made her sick. Part of her—maybe a selfish part—hoped that Ward would be able to do it first, so that Do-il wouldn't need to be put in that position. The problem was that In-joo saw that Do-il was right. There was no real way to make this stop without killing Soo-im and exposing Jeongran again. They would need to accomplish both goals to have a chance of living a normal life.

And then there was the matter of Ward. Do-il had taken steps to ensure that Ward couldn't easily get his hands on their money, but In-joo didn't know if it would be enough. Ward was certainly determined enough to keep searching, and the thought of betraying him didn't sit well with her, despite everything he had already done.

She had been keeping busy with her company as well. After In-kyung had turned the business over to her, there had been much to take care of. After fleeing Korea and taking shelter in America, there had been even more to take care of, though a good portion of that had happened as a direct result of the abrupt chaos that had torn their lives apart.

Now that she was here, she was trying to get things settled back down again. It was... a work in progress.

She reflected on the fact that coming to America had turned out to be a mistake after all. While it had gotten them away from Soo-im, it had put them in direct opposition with Jeongran. It had, at least, made Soo-im desperate enough to risk everything, which on some level, could be seen as a success.

Her worry must have been visible, because Do-il spoke as soon as he entered the room, startling her. She hadn't even seen him come in.

"You're frowning," he said.

She realized that her brow was furrowed and she rubbed her head. She could feel the onset of a headache. "I guess I am."

He pulled a seat up to the table that she sat at and lowered himself into it beside her. "Is there something particular on your mind?"

In-joo smiled. "There's a lot on my mind. But I think you know that."

"Even one of the problems we're facing would be enough to break another person," Do-il said. "And you're handling all of them." He looked at her steadily.

In-joo sighed. "You're right. I wish that made me feel better."

"It's Min-jun, isn't it?"

Of course he knew.

"I'm worried something happened to him because of us," In-joo said. She didn't explain any further. It didn't seem necessary.

Do-il thought about her words. She could see him forming his response before speaking it. "I think you know that in all likelihood, something did happen to him. The question is, what happened and who caused it to happen? Because Soo-im is more or less on her own now. She still has the Korean Jeongran remnant, but she no longer has access to the funds and resources that she used to. And the American branch doesn't seem to have ever been active in Korea."

"Which means it was either Soo-im or another group," said In-joo.

"But who else is there?" Do-il asked. "Because we know that she didn't hire them. She doesn't have the money for that."

In-joo thought she saw the answer, and she didn't like the implications. "The CIA," she said quietly. "They have reach overseas and he told us not to trust them. You don't think..."

"I have been thinking that," Do-il confirmed. He didn't say anything else after that.

In-joo felt a chill run through her. They had discussed this possibility before, but to think that the CIA would have gone after a Korean national for no reason other than Jeongran had told them to was... terrifying.

"Maybe coming to America wasn't a bad idea after all," said In-joo. "At least the CIA aren't going to be coming after us here."

"They shouldn't be coming after us here," said Do-il. "That doesn't mean that they won't. Have you heard anything from In-kyung?"

"Not yet. But I imagine she should be calling us soon to let us know how everything has gone. I hope she's okay. I don't like that she keeps leaving on her own."

"Jong-ho is with her. She can take care of herself." Do-il sounded confident.

"I know. But she's my younger sister. Sometimes it's hard to let go of that."

"I never had a sibling," said Do-il. "But between your sisters, I think I'm starting to figure out what that might be like. You've been good to them, your entire life. And I think they know that too."

"I want them to be safe. I want In-hye to have the kind of childhood we couldn't. I want... I want her to not have to worry about the things that we worried about." In-joo smiled ruefully. "And now, she has to worry about a whole new set of issues."

"I can't pretend that I'm good at navigating this kind of thing," said Do-il. "For so long, I've only worried about myself. I'm still learning how to worry about other people."

"You've done a good job of that," said In-joo. "I saw what you did for In-hye. The Do-il I met back then wouldn't have even thought about doing something like that."

Do-il looked like he was going to try and change the subject, but In-joo reached out and took his hand. "It's okay to be a good person. You don't have to pretend to be someone you're not."

Do-il swallowed. "It's not pretending. It's just... learning."

"You're a fast learner."

"Maybe I am," Do-il said. "But it's only because of you."

"I just want it all to mean something. After everything that we've been through, I don't want to just come out the other side. When we ended Jeongran in Korea, we made sure that Park Jae-sang and Sang-a couldn't control the country. If we win here, people are just going to die."

Do-il opened his mouth to respond, but In-joo kept speaking and cut him off. "I know. Soo-im needs to die for us to be safe. I understand that. But understanding it doesn't make me feel any better about it."

"I don't want anyone to die," said Do-il.

In-joo felt frustrated. "But I'm being naive, and this isn't how the world works. I know. And I hate it. I want to change how the world works, but I'm just one person and—"

"You're not naive." Do-il's voice was so calm and even that In-joo stopped mid-sentence. "You see the world differently than so many other people in your position. And you're not alone either. Because there are others who feel the same way you do. It's just that most of them don't have the influence that you can have now."

In-joo regretted her outburst a little. She hadn't meant to snap at him. "Maybe I'm a little naive. But I'm not ashamed of it. It's just that I can see a better world. It's there. It's possible."

"And you're working toward it."

In-joo sighed. "If we can survive this."

The door to the suite resounded with a sharp knocking. Do-il looked questioningly at In-joo, who shrugged. She hadn't been expecting anyone, and the knock sounded too loud to be In-hye. It was either Ward or a stranger.

Neither were particularly welcome at the given moment, but Ward was easily the better alternative. In-joo watched Do-il slowly approach the door and check through the peephole who was on the other side. After a second, he sighed and then opened it.

Sure enough, standing there in the now-open doorway, was Jack Ward.

"We need to talk."

Do-il wasn't sure what to expect. Was Ward going to call him out on the creative accounting he had done to hide their funds? Was Ward going to spill some earth-shattering secret that was going to change everything?

He wasn't sure which was preferable at this point.

Ward looked like he would rather be anywhere else. It was a look that had been appearing more and more often on his face. Do-il had seen Ward looking more conflicted with each passing day, but it was hard to say what was causing that conflict. His vendetta against Soo-im had certainly not gone away. And it was obvious that he still wanted to regain the money and set his family's legacy right. So what was on his mind?

Whatever it was, it was clear that he didn't want to share it with anyone.

That could have been me. I was so close to turning into exactly that kind of person.

"We're not safe here any longer," said Ward.

Do-il folded his hands and leaned forward. "That's not exactly new information."

"No," Ward said. "It's more complicated than that. I tried reaching out to the agency again."

Do-il glanced at In-joo. Did that mean their worst fears were true? "What does that mean for us?"

"It means that In-kyung wasn't being followed by the CIA. Those people, whoever they were, didn't have the skills to mark them as members of the agency. If they had been, In-kyung never would have seen them. They must have just been employed by Jeongran."

"Then how did they even know where to find In-kyung?"

Ward hesitated before speaking. Do-il could tell that the man was attempting to decide if he should share whatever he was thinking about. That, at least, was a decision that Do-il understood. Secrets were currency. Secrets were weaponry. And yes, they wanted the same thing for the most part, but did that mean that Ward wanted to share everything with them?

Evidently, he did. Or at the very least, he wanted to share more with them than what he had already said.

"Because I believe that they're working alongside the CIA."

There it was then. That had been what Do-il had been afraid of. There had been signs of it. There had even been circumstantial evidence. But Min-jun's call, alongside what Ward had just said, proved it to Do-il.

And if it wasn't true, at the very least, they needed to act like it was, just in case.

"What happened?" Do-il asked. He saw no reason for Ward to try and lie about this, but he wanted to verify as much of it as possible.

"I checked mission records remotely. And I called in a few favors from agents lower than me, ones who wouldn't be out on assignments. The kind of agents that probably wouldn't be roped into this kind of thing."

"What did you find?"

"I found that they didn't want me to be looking into that sort of thing. And I found that there were recently a handful of agents dispatched to Los Angeles, with records indicating that they were on their way to our area."

Do-il's face went stony. "How recently?"

"Yesterday."

Do-il clenched his fist. "Damn. Do they know that you were looking into it?"

"We have to assume that they know everything. The fact that they're even considering an operation on US soil shows just how serious they are about this."

Do-il knew what this meant. And he knew fully well that Ward was aware of it too.

"We need to find Soo-im and end this," said Ward. "It's the only way out."

Do-il looked to In-joo. Her mouth was in a grim line, but she said nothing. She didn't need to. He already knew what she was thinking.

"We can't go anywhere until In-kyung and Jong-ho are back," Do-il said. "And we can't contact them and tell them what we're doing either. We have to assume they're already monitoring our communications."

"So we wait here until we can all leave together," said Ward. "She might already be in CIA custody."

"Are you willing to go up against them?" asked Do-il. He knew it was a difficult decision. It would literally be treason, unless they could prove that Jeongran was controlling part of the agency.

"I'll do what it takes," said Ward. "You know that already."

That was certainly true.

"I just wish there was another way," In-joo sighed.

Do-il and Ward were both silent. Do-il was silent out of respect, Ward was silent because... well, maybe he just couldn't think of anything worth saying.

"Are we going back to Korea then?" In-joo asked. "Isn't that risky, with the CIA?"

Ward nodded. "You're right about the risks. It's hard to say right now what the best plan is. But we can't do anything until your sister is back. So for now, we need to plan for each possibility and work it out from there. We might not need to go anywhere. She might come to us."

"We might be able to bait her into revealing herself," Do-il said slowly. "Her greatest weakness is that she can't let anything go. Ever. She'll do anything to make sure we all die. If we can bring her here, we might be able to get her to act against her own interests. It wouldn't exactly be difficult."

In-joo stood up suddenly. "I... I don't think I want to hear this. I'm going to step outside for some air. Come and get me when you're done."

She didn't give Do-il a chance to convince her otherwise. She simply stood and left for the balcony, the sound of the city below sliding in before she shut the door behind her. In-joo hadn't sounded angry. She had just spoken matter of factly.

Ward looked at Do-il. "Do you want to go after her?"

Do-il was surprised that the man had even asked. That didn't seem to be high on his overall list of priorities.

"I'm not inhuman," said Ward. "And I'm not blind. It was obvious since the first time you stormed into the Interpol interrogation room. I know you would be willing to die for her. I saw it before we left Korea. And God help her, but she would be willing to die for you."

"We need to talk this out," said Do-il, setting his face and steeling himself, despite how much he wanted nothing more than to follow In-joo out onto the balcony.

"It can wait. We can't go anywhere until In-kyung is back. I'll check on In-hye and Hyo-rin. Go. Talk to her."

Do-il looked at Ward. The whole conversation had taken a surreal turn. He felt like he should say something to Ward, but he wasn't sure of what it would be. "We have to kill her," Do-il said.

"If it comes down to it, I'll do it," said Ward. "There aren't any parts of myself that I haven't lost yet."

"I don't know if that's true."

"You've seen what I've done."

Do-il nodded. "Yes. And once, I would have agreed with you. But things have changed, haven't they?"

"I don't know. I don't think it matters anymore. It's too late for me. But it's not too late for you. We'll finish this, and then we'll all have what we want."

"What did you want?" Do-il asked.

"I don't understand."

"Before all of this. Before your life became your mission. What did you want?"

Ward was quiet for a very long time after Do-il asked the question. Do-il couldn't tell if the man was simply thinking, trying to remember, or deciding if he even wanted to answer. But he didn't move, he didn't leave, and he just kept sitting there.

Finally, when he did speak, his voice was so quiet that Do-il could barely hear him.

"I think I just wanted a normal family."

Do-il wasn't sure what to say about that. Because that had been exactly what he had dreamed of when he had been younger. Before his life had been overtaken by money and power and Jeongran.

"You said it's too late," Do-il murmured as he stood and moved toward the door so that he could speak to In-joo. "But you're wrong. I used to think the same thing about myself. I found another way. There's always a way back."

Ward didn't respond to that at all. Do-il hadn't expected him to. Instead, all Do-il heard was the door to the suite shutting as the CIA agent left the room.

He supposed that he should have expected as much. He thought about Ward's words as he opened the balcony door and stepped into the night.

It wasn't too late. He knew that.

He had to believe that.

Notes:

I wasn't sure if I would get this one out on time, but I was able to! A lot of my responsibilities for this month have cleared up, so I'm going to be continuing full steam ahead on this story. Look forward to more soon!

Thank you, as always!

Chapter 40

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"It's okay," In-joo said as soon as she knew that Do-il was there. "You don't need to have this conversation. You can go back in. I'm not mad, I promise. I just... didn't want to be there for it."

"I know," said Do-il. He joined her at her side, standing at the edge of the rooftop patio. Los Angeles was a lot of things. It was uncaring, it was a mess of strangers, and it was supposedly the city of angels. Just a massive list of contradictions.

But at night, he had to admit, it could be stunning as well.

"So then...?"

"Why am I here? That's a good question. You might not believe me if I told you."

Part of it was because Ward had insisted. Part of it was because Do-il had wanted nothing more than to follow her. Once, he would have never considered walking away from a mission, not until it was finished. Now, the mission seemed pointless if he didn't have her by his side.

"I haven't been sleeping well," Do-il said after a moment. "I think it might be because of the dreams I'm having. But I don't know for sure, because I never remember them after I wake up."

"You almost died," said In-joo. "You put yourself through hell for me. For us. And you did it more than once, knowing what would happen."

"And I'd do it again," said Do-il. "I'd do it in a second. But that's not the point."

"Then what is?"

"I'm not sure," Do-il admitted. "But I think it indicates that the world changed. And it changed without us even knowing it."

"I knew," said In-joo, turning and looking at him. "I knew as soon as you came back."

Do-il's eyes were no longer on the city. No, he was solely focused on the woman standing next to him. "Can you live with someone who is preparing to do the kind of things that I've been talking about?"

That was the question that had been on his mind. If the answer was no, then he could accept that. At least he could live with the knowledge that his actions had kept them all safe. He would never hold it against her. He couldn't. She had made her position very clear, and he had chosen to go against it. They were both adults. Those were things they could decide on.

"Things aren't black and white. I learned that a long time ago. But I'm worried about you, Do-il. I know what this means to you. I don't want you to make a decision you can't take back and then spend your life regretting it.'

"I'm not an innocent, In-joo. People have been hurt because of me. People have probably died because of me. All those people I fought past on my way to you, back in Korea. I can't guarantee they all lived."

"It's not the same. There's a difference between trying to survive and trying to actively kill someone."

Do-il smiled. "You're not going to change my mind."

"I know. And I don't want to."

"I don't want to upset you," Do-il said quietly.

In-joo understood. He could see it on her face. And he could tell that whatever came next, she wouldn't be going anywhere. Do-il felt relief flood every inch of his being. He still wasn't used to this kind of conversation.

"Anytime you put yourself in danger, I'm going to be upset. Anytime you put yourself in a position where you could be hurt, I'm going to be upset. But what upsets me the most is watching you struggle with this decision because of me. If you believe this is the only way forward, then I'm with you. I wish there was a different way. But I won't let this affect the time we have with each other." She swallowed. "Because I learned just how brief that time could be."

"Thank you," Do-il said.

Finally, she appeared to not understand what he meant. "For what?"

He opened his mouth to tell her just exactly what he was thankful for, until he realized that he lacked the words to verbalize it. Eventually, he gave up. "I'm not sure how to say it," he admitted.

"So don't," In-joo murmured. "Kiss me."

The rooftop patio seemed to disappear around them as Do-il leaned in to do as she had asked. The night sky, with its infinite stars and eternally watchful moon, descended to meet them, and for a little while, the pair was swept away into the cosmos.

It didn't matter that the lights of the city drowned out the illumination in the sky. It didn't matter that the sounds of the cars dulled the noise of the wind. Because for that brief moment, the only two things that existed were him and her.

He remembered then, why it all mattered. Why every moment of struggle, every harsh word, even blow taken or received was nothing in comparison to what he stood to gain. There was a life for him—one that he would need to work to achieve, certainly, but a life nonetheless. It was the kind of thing he had dreamed about as a child, and then forgotten as he had grown older. It was the kind of life that he had assumed was impossible for someone like him. The kind that had lost its importance to him as he had focused on only one goal.

He could see now that the goal he had set for himself had been a mistake. He should have been looking for something else.

But if that mistake had led him here, then how bad could it have been? He couldn't find it within himself to regret those decisions.

"We're almost there," he said. "And when we're done, we can go anywhere you want to go."

"I don't think it matters much anymore," In-joo said. "As long as you're there."

It was the idea of limitless possibilities. It was the idea of a future of peace, one where they didn't have to fight just to survive.

It was the idea of a meaning to his existence. And it was an idea he had found from somewhere other than within himself.

Jack Ward felt confusion fill his bones as he walked back to the room that In-hye and Hyo-rin were in. There was no other word for it. He no longer knew what he felt, and he hated it.

The mission was still clear. Kill Soo-im. Save the Oh family. Recover the money and clear his family's name. So why did it all feel so complicated? Why was he asking himself questions that he had never asked before?

He didn't lack certainty. He still knew what needed to be done. It was just now there were more factors to consider. Factors that he had never needed to think about before.

It was absurd. The Oh sisters, along with Do-il, had robbed him of his life's work. He shouldn't care about what they think or whatever might happen to them beyond using them for his eventual goal.

And yet...

Ward thought back to the moment when he had aided Do-il in his impossible fight, back in Korea. Yes, some of that had been born from desire to keep the man alive. Maybe even most of Ward's choices in that fight had sprung from that desire. But there was something else there too, and to deny it would be to lie to himself.

The fact of the matter was that none of them deserved to die. He could tell—maybe he could have always told—that they were good people. All of them. Even Choi Do-il, despite the man's refusal to recognize it.

Every interaction he had with them, especially lately, had caused him to question the decisions that had brought him to this point. The things he had done. The things he had given up. Had it been worth it?

I can't allow myself to think like that. I've come this far. Stopping now would mean it was all for nothing.

He entered into Hyo-rin and In-hye's room, to find them both hard at work with a massive amount of artist supplies. They seemed to be planning several works all at once, and they were both engaged in an intense, quietly whispered conversation.

Ward closed the door behind him and took a seat on the far side of the main room of the suite. The girls barely seemed to notice that he was there. That was fine with him. They could keep working on whatever they were doing, and that was enough. He was there just to make sure they were safe, because at this point, anything could happen.

The idea that the CIA might have been standing against him the entire time was nearly unthinkable. He knew it was more complicated than that, and that it wasn't the whole agency, but it explained the lack of support that he had been dealing with for years.

He knew that things were going to fall apart soon, and he wasn't looking forward to it. The one thing that he was looking forward to was getting his hands on Soo-im. He would get the revenge that his team deserved. He would make sure that Soo-im never betrayed anyone else again.

After that, after his family name was cleared, maybe then it would be time to step away and live a different sort of life. Maybe that was for the best.

Ward watched In-hye and Hyo-rin continue their work. What was it like to be that young?

He couldn't remember.

He wasn't sure if he had ever known.

Go Soo-im knew that she was been backed into a corner, but she no longer cared. After they had failed to kill the Oh sisters in Korea, she had been left with no other options. And when the American arm of Jeongran had reached out to her, she saw the only way out.

They would help her. They would give her the revenge she craved. And if working with them meant giving up her money, her knowledge, and any advantages she had left, then so be it. She would achieve her goal at any cost.

It had meant some time living in a style that she wasn't used to. She had lost access to most of her funds when law enforcement had wrapped up the Jeongran conspiracy in Korea, and she had given most of what she still had to the American arm. But that was okay. Soo-im had come from nothing. She knew how to live with nothing. She had never forgotten.

That damned Interpol agent had still been poking around where he shouldn't have been though, and something needed to be done about that. Of course, Soo-im had needed to turn over control of the Jeongran remnant to their American comrades, but that didn't matter. The Americans had far more resources than she had possessed anyway.

As far as she could tell, the Interpol annoyance had vanished. She wasn't sure if the Americans had killed him or if he had just decided that hiding was the smarter play, but in either case, he was now out of her way. That was good enough for her. Interpol seemed to have been the one organization that Jeongran had been unable to crack. The only reason Ward had been able to work with Interpol in the first place had been because his mission had appeared legitimate.

At the start, at least.

Now, it was finally time to end things. Her future path was quite clear at this point. She would kill the Oh sisters. She would kill Do-il. And then she would fall in with the Americans, and rise the ranks of that organization. Her dream hadn't died. It had just changed. She possessed all the remaining knowledge of the original Jeongran, and she would use that to help her climb in importance. The power, success, and wealth that she had been working so hard for were still a possibility.

But first, revenge.

They had taken everything from her, and it would take her years to get back to where she had once been. She would do it. She would let nothing stop her. But it would be a long, laborious process.

Now she was on her way to America. Jeongran knew where they all were. The middle sister had temporarily vanished, but she would be back eventually. Once they were all in one spot, it would be easy to bring them all down.

That was all Soo-im wanted. And it was finally within her grasp.

In-hye was so focused on the canvas in front of her that she didn't even notice that Hyo-rin was watching her. What Do-il had done had shaken her so much that her priority had become the next major work. And it was one that she wouldn't do alone. Hyo-rin was helping her with every step of the process. It wouldn't be easy. She knew that it wasn't something she would be able to complete for quite some time, but when it was finished, it was going to be the most important thing she had ever created.

Finally, In-hye felt Hyo-rin's eyes. In-hye turned to see the other girl just looking at her.

"What is it?" In-hye asked.

"I'm just... trying to make sure I remember," Hyo-rin. "I want to remember this moment."

In-hye smiled. "Are you afraid you're going to forget?"

"I just know that things are going to change soon. Things change so fast now. And I know that things for us are going to keep changing. I don't want to stop it. I just want to be able to remember. I've been so happy with you, In-hye. I've been happier than I ever was before."

In-hye's smile changed to an expression of understanding. "I know, Hyo-rin."

"I don't know if you do. I know that when you first met me you were just doing what you thought you needed. And it was enough just for me to have someone to talk to. But I know that changed too. And you weren't just someone to talk to for me. You were really my friend. And I was really yours. I don't know if you know what that means."

In-hye knew that the way she had grown up had been so different from Hyo-rin. There had been no money, for one. But one thing was the same. They had both been consumed by a crushing sense of alienation and loneliness. When they had found each other, it was like the world had changed. Suddenly, the world had no longer felt so oppressive. There was more out there.

And in the time they had spent traveling the world together, that bond had only deepened. In-hye felt like now, Hyo-rin was the only person who truly understood her. She loved her sisters, of course. She always would. But they didn't carry the same weight In-hye did. Their burdens were different. And that would always be something that would come between them.

Hyo-rin, though, lacked those barriers. In-hye could see true understanding in the other girl's eyes. The kind of understanding that had always been there, even before In-hye had realized it.

"I'm not going anywhere," said In-hye. "You know that. It doesn't matter what happens next. The one thing that will stay is you and me."

Hyo-rin walked over to the canvas that In-hye had been preparing. They were standing next to each other now. In-hye felt suddenly very aware of Hyo-rin's closeness. She could practically feel the warmth radiating off the girl's skin.

There was something significant about the moment. About the night sky outside the window. About the blank canvas and the sketches surrounding them. About the fact that they were alone now, since Ward had stepped into one of the side rooms to make a phone call.

It felt important. And In-hye wasn't sure if she knew why.

But that wasn't true, was it? She did know why. She had always known why, but she hadn't been able to put it in words. She still wasn't able to put it in words, but she could at least admit it to herself.

In-hye reached out and took Hyo-rin's hand. She didn't want to have to explain herself, but she already knew that she wouldn't have to. Hyo-rin would understand.

The world began to fall into place. She could see now the trajectory that she had been on from the very start. And when she looked at Hyo-rin, she saw that her friend had realized the same thing. Maybe Hyo-rin had always known too. Maybe this was just the culmination of a long journey of self-discovery.

All it had taken was a blank canvas.

"This isn't an ending," In-hye whispered.

Hyo-rin looked at her with questioning eyes.

"It's the beginning of something," In-hye said. And all those visions that had plagued her—the dreams of death, the false memories of a life that had never been hers—they began to fade away. She was finally replacing them with something else. Death was no longer a shadow that could simply hang over her. She had found something to replace it with.

As she stood there, her fingers entwined with Hyo-rin's, staring out at a city that had never felt like home, In-hye's heart began to fill.

She knew that she was afraid. That the path before her had never been easy, and it likely never would be. That the circumstances of her birth and who she was as a person meant that her life would always be an uphill battle.

But that was alright. Because it was a battle she wouldn't have to face alone. And she could face it with pride, knowing that she would never compromise who she was or who she loved.

Hyo-rin's palm felt cool against hers. In-hye took a deep breath and exhaled. This was what it was like, then. To be able to peel back the veil inside you and look into your own soul.

There would always be more questions. Fortunately, she would always have someone to help her answer them.

Notes:

This is a very important chapter to me, especially because of the ending. You may interpret that scene however you want, but my interpretation of it ties into my reading of the two characters from the show. They're still so young and both so different from everyone else, but they have each other. I wanted to write that scene with great respect. I hope I succeeded. We aren't done with the two of them, but we are moving into the final phase of the story.

Thank you, as always, for returning. I'll see you all soon!

Chapter 41

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Oh In-joo sleeps fitfully, her nerves frayed from days spent worrying about the future. It's in her nature, to worry about such things. Not because she fears for herself, but because she fears for those she cares about. She's only human after all, and her heart is just so full of love.

Fortunately, she isn't alone tonight. The hotel suite is simply too big for one person, and the walls had made her feel like they were going to swallow her. Do-il is with her, and his presence is enough to help her eventually drift off to sleep.

Let's be clear—In-joo is not, and has never been, helpless. Her strength lies in the fact that she cares about the people around her, maybe too much sometimes. She was strong enough to show Do-il a better way to live. Strong enough to refuse to break, even when faced with the full monstrosity of Sang-a and her puppet show.

At her heart, In-hoo is still the same quiet girl from before. The one who never felt like anyone noticed her. The one who watched the world pass her by from her small desk at a company that never cared about her. She hasn't changed, not really.

Or rather, she hasn't let herself be changed.

Even with the money, even with the newfound power as the head of a major business, her morals have remained in place. Her love for those closest to her hasn't faded.

She remains.

The difference now—more than what she owns or what she controls—is that she no longer fears a future of loneliness. She no longer feels the pull of regret. She no longer dreams of that final moment in the airport, watching the back of someone that she had grown to care so deeply about.

He is with her now. And she knows that no matter what happens next, he will not leave.

The trust is new for her. Sometimes, she remembers what it had been like, to be wrapped in a web of mysteries and conspiracies, when it felt like she could trust no one but herself. Not even Do-il. There had been times when she had seriously considered the idea that he might have been working against her, as impossible as it seems now.

But he hadn't. Everything he had done, every move he had made—it had all been for her.

In-joo, to this day, is still not used to this. The idea that someone might be willing to sacrifice everything for her. Because her entire life, the only people she had ever been able to count on had been her sisters. Not even her mother had fallen into that category.

So for someone like Do-il to care that much? It feels impossible.

And yet she knows beyond any doubt that it is true.

She treasures every moment with him. Every second. Because she knows how easily it could all be taken away from her. Every glance, every touch, no matter how brief—In-joo treats it as a gift. It took a calamity to bring them back together. And she is determined to not waste it.

So while she sleeps uneasily, she knows that no matter what happens next, she will fight with everything she has for the people in her life. Her money, her success, everything she owns—it means nothing in a world without her loved ones.

This is her strength. This is what makes her who she is. And this is what allows her to feel the world so strongly—because she knows, without any doubt, the things that matter most.

Oh In-kyung is a warrior. Maybe not in the same way that some others are, but she fights in her own way, all the same. She always has, her whole life. At times, she was fighting for survival. At almost all points, she was fighting for what she thought was right.

It had meant a lifetime of struggling. A lifetime of being looked down on.

And for so long, it had meant that she had felt isolated from the rest of the world.

Her sisters had been there, of course. But In-joo had never stood for justice in the same way that In-kyung had, and In-hye had been too young to really understand. In-kyung's answer had simply been to throw herself into her work. Maybe, she had believed, maybe she could make a difference. Maybe that would make her life mean something.

Now, she knows that her life had always meant something. Now, she sees the connections that had tied her to the rest of the world, the ones that had felt invisible. No, not invisible. Nonexistent.

She isn't floating adrift by herself, drowning in a sea of injustice. She has her family. Her friends. She has Jong-ho.

In-kyung laughs when she thinks of how she used to feel about love. But she only laughs to hide the tears. Because there are so many wasted years that she could have spent with someone she cared about. Jong-ho had been right there, waiting for her. He had never given up on her, even when she had given up on herself.

She sits next to Jong-ho on the plane and thinks about how lucky she is. But even more than that, she feels like she understands a fundamental truth about being alive.

Love is the most powerful force that has ever existed.

Once, she thought it was justice. Then she had thought it was money. For a time, she had thought it was political power. But all of that was dwarfed when she saw the strength of what she wielded in the name of the people she cared the most about.

In-kyung has always dreamed of a better future. But now, the future no longer seems like a dream. She can see the path, and it is a path that leads to true happiness—not just for her, but for her sisters as well.

The only thing she fears now is losing the people she cares about. Anything else, she can survive, so long as they make it through the fight.

She knows that even their survival means nothing. Because the rest of her life will forever be a fight against the disease of her alcoholism. She understands this and she accepts it. She even welcomes it, because for as long as she has lived, she has never known anything worth doing that was easy. She will fight it with every fiber of her being—for herself, for her sisters, and for Jong-ho.

Ultimately, she knows that they are about to change the world yet again. It is an opportunity that she knows many people will never have. It is an opportunity that she has, for most of her life, only ever dreamed about.

It will be worth it. All the struggle will be worth it. All they have to do is make it out alive.

Oh In-hye is complicated. She is misunderstood, in the way that so many young women often are. Part of that is because she is only now beginning to understand herself. Part of that is because of the extraordinary circumstances that have overtaken her life.

When she paints, she sees two things—the future and the past, coexisting simultaneously. Everything that came before, all the fear and loss that she had been forced to carry, was now colliding with her dreams of the future.

In-hye has changed, on so many levels that she can no longer articulate just what it is about herself that is not the same.

But she knows that this is okay, that she does not need to explain herself to anyone. That she is comfortable with who she is.

And as she works, she thinks about things that Do-il has said to her. Things that her sisters have said to her. And she knows that they did understand her, even before she had fully understood herself.

The world is cruel to women, especially women who dare to make a name for themselves. In-hye has seen this time and time again, and yet she refuses to back down. She wonders if it is foolish. Then she looks at her sisters and knows that it is right.

She regrets her actions of the past, it's true. But In-hye is wise enough to know that the actions of In-hye from a year ago do not need to reflect on her now. She is capable of great change and self-discovery. She has already undergone both of those things. And she is nowhere near finished.

Hyo-rin is with her. Hyo-rin, one of the strongest, bravest people that In-hye has ever met. A girl who has lived a lifetime of horror, and faced it all with a smile. A soul so impossibly gentle that she could never even imagine hurting someone else.

In-hye is proud to call Hyo-rin her friend. She is honored to be able to say that she has learned from Hyo-rin. And she knows that Hyo-rin is completely unaware of the effect that Hyo-rin has had on her life. That is the magic of their companionship. Things don't need to be spoken. Some things can just exist in silence.

For In-hye, the future has taken on a color that she had never expected. There will be more conversations to have as she learns about herself. As she grows older. As she changes. She wonders how she will tell her sisters. She wonders if she will even need to tell her sisters. She knows that no matter what she says to them, they will love her all the same.

Looking back on the person she was, even just a year ago, her mistakes seem so obvious to her. Her sisters had loved her with every ounce of their being, even when she had turned her back on them. She had been so blinded by what she didn't have, that she had completely missed what was right in front of her.

And they had never given up on her.

It breaks her heart, to think about how she had taken their love for granted. And through everything she had done, they had always been there, just waiting for her to return to them. When she had, they had never held it against her. Not for a single moment.

They had just wanted her to be safe.

She will never discredit the sacrifices they had made for her. Never again. Some things are more important than pride. And it isn't weakness to accept help. It is strength.

In-hye knows that even after this is over, her life will be forever altered by her experiences. Because of who she is, her path will never be easy. But she also knows about the limitless possibilities that now lie before her.

Her visions of death had faded, to be replaced with imagined dreams of the future. Of whispered conversations with Hyo-rin. Of the years they would one day be able to spend together, growing older and wiser, creating masterpieces of the kind the world had never seen before.

In-hye sees this and it pushes her fear away. Nothing can combat the power of hope.

Nothing.

Choi Do-il sits with In-joo, and he feels a kind of peace settle over him. A kind that he has never felt before in his life. It is the peace of a man who has found his place in the world. The peace of a man who has seen where he belongs.

The peace of a man who now understands true kindness, shown to him by the most gentle soul he has ever met.

He hasn't said anything to In-joo, but his body and mind are carrying a heavy weight. He has come frighteningly close to dying twice in recent memory. He has healed, of course. But sometimes, he remembers the certainty of death. He remembers the calm acceptance of his own end.

And it scares him. Because now, he knows that death would tear him away from the greatest joy in his life. The woman who changed everything for him.

Oh In-joo.

That doesn't mean he would ever consider leaving her in danger. Do-il knows that he would do it all over again, without any hesitation. The thought of a world without In-joo is even more terrible than the thought of not existing at all.

The world changed. And Do-il can see the before and after so clearly that it might as well be a diagram drawn on a piece of paper. There is the world before he knew In-joo.

And there is the world after.

There seems to be color to things now. The world has a hue to it that he had never seen before. The brilliance of it is nearly blinding, and he treasures each moment as if he will never have another.

Once, he believed that the world was a cruel and hateful place, one where the only measure of happiness was tied to the amount of money one possessed.

But while he sits next to In-joo and watches the gentle rise and fall of her chest, he understands that he has always been wrong. There is no amount of money that could buy him this moment. There is no monetary value that can be attached to the simple joy he feels in knowing that she is safe and comfortable.

Do-il is well aware that what happens next is likely to be of a degree of violence that none of them have seen before. The CIA is moving against them. Soo-im will stop at nothing to see him dead. And there is an entire Jeongran society still standing, one that is working alongside Soo-im.

Do-il will do anything for In-joo. He has already accomplished the impossible, so much so that the word barely holds meaning for him any longer. He knows that she wants another way, and truthfully, Do-il wishes that he could solve their problems with mere words as well. But Soo-im is mad. She is a woman possessed by near limitless amounts of anger and scorn, and Do-il no longer expects any resolution without blood.

His thoughts are not all of violence. In fact, most of them were of the future, trying to understand what his life might be like without the constant fight for survival.

It is hard for him to imagine a world where he no longer needs to risk everything. But that is the reality of what lies just out of sight.

Do-il wants to learn how to be a better human. How to be a better friend. A better lover. Do-il wants to learn how to live for other people. How to give of himself freely, for no reason other than the depth of the relationships he possesses. Despite what In-joo tells him, despite what everyone else tells him, he knows that the road before him is long.

First though, he must arrive at the road.

Everything he has ever done has brought him here. To this hotel room, with this woman. And all of his planning, all of his skills, all of his preparation was in service of where he sat now. He sees the foolishness of his actions. He sees the meaninglessness of what has come before.

And he sees the promise of the future on the beautiful face of Oh In-joo.

Do-il listens to her breathing, and knows that he has finally found his place in the world.

Jack Ward is a hurricane of contradictions.

He no longer knows what he feels. He no longer has any clue what comes next. The only thing he is sure of is that the world he was once so sure of has now crumbled.

Ward wants to clear his family's name. He wants to kill Soo-im. He wants to make sure the Oh sisters survive.

But he hates them, doesn't he? He hates them because they stole his revenge. They ruined the plans that he had spent so much time developing.

Except he doesn't hate them. Because he has seen the kind of people they are, and he knows that none of them deserve hate. They are all what he could have been, if he hadn't isolated himself. If he hadn't forced himself to live such a lonely life.

And yet none of that negates his need to finish the mission that he had originally set out on. It cannot end until the world understands that the wrongs of the past have been set right. And the only way for him to do that is to complete his bargain with the Oh siblings.

More than anything else, he feels confusion. This is something he has not felt in longer than he can remember. Every time he speaks with one of the women—even when he speaks with Do-il—he finds his beliefs shaken even further. It doesn't change his duty to his family name, and it doesn't erase the injustices of the past, but it does make him wonder just how far he is willing to go.

And it makes him wonder if he has any sort of a future still left to him, outside his current mission.

Once it all comes to an end, Ward fears that he will have nothing left. The agency can longer be trusted. And his purpose, for most of his life, has come from the agency.

Perhaps this is what he deserves. Perhaps this is his recompense for so many years of putting stock in an organization that never cared about him. For not building connections with the people around him.

Ward forces himself to ignore those thoughts. At this point, those doubts will only serve to hinder him. There is no other option left to him other than to press forward and finish what he has already begun.

He isn't like them. And he will never be.

There are some things that you cannot come back from.

There is some blood that can never be washed off.

Notes:

I apologize for the delay! I have suddenly been thrown into a pile of responsibilities in my professional life that might slow down the next few chapters.

However, this chapter (sort of an interlude) is the beginning of the end. We are getting close now, and I hope everyone is ready! I am looking forward to finishing it out with all you alongside.

Thank you for reading! I'll try to get the next update ready as soon as I can.

Chapter 42

Chapter Text

In-joo was awoken by the sound of riotous banging on the door to her room. She lurched up in bed and was surprised to see that Do-il was still there. He didn't look like he had been awake all night either. Had he slept there next to her?

"Who is it?" In-joo asked, her heart pounding as a result of being woken from her deep sleep.

"I don't know," Do-il said calmly. "But if we were in real danger, they wouldn't have bothered knocking."

He rose and stepped to the door. In-joo slowly rose from the be and found herself holding her breath. What time was it? Why was someone trying to get here now?

Do-il looked through the peephole, saw who it was, and then threw the door open immediately.

Ko Min-jun stepped inside, and In-joo wasn't able to stifle the gasp that emerged from her mouth when she saw him. "What are you doing here?"

He looked exhausted. His eyes were red and his hair was matted. She wondered when the last time he slept had been. He must have taken the first available flight out of Korea to get here. Whatever he had to tell them there was no doubt that it was important.

Do-il ushered the man in, checked the hallway, then shut and locked the door, dead-bolting it and chaining it as well. "Are you alright?"

Min-jun nodded blearily. "I got here as soon as I could. It hasn't been easy, these last few days."

In-joo glanced at Do-il and nodded. "That's definitely true, no matter where you are. What's happened?"

"I tried to see what I could find out about Soo-im," Min-jun said. "I tried to let you know. But they were following me, and I needed to—"

"It's okay," said In-joo. "You don't need to explain yourself. You did the best you could."

"It's the CIA," Min-jun burst out. "They're working with Soo-im. She's attached herself to another branch of Jeongran—"

Do-il helped Min-jun into a seat. "We know. But it was your message that put us on the right track."

"We're just glad you're safe," said In-joo. "How did you get here?"

Min-jun sighed. "I had to go dark. I had to disappear so that they wouldn't even know that I had left. They have all of Soo-im's money and knowledge now. She's given herself completely over to them, just so that she can get closer to killing you." He shook his head. "What did you do to these people? And are you still working with Ward? Because I wouldn't trust him anymore—if you ever did."

In-joo felt strangely defensive of Ward. "He's not aligned with the CIA."

"He literally works for them," Min-jun said.

"I know. But he's putting his own goals ahead of the agency's. I trust him to do what's best for himself at least. As long as that matches up with what we want, then we're fine."

In-joo, at that moment, realized that in her haste to get up, she was still wearing the clothing that she had gone to sleep in, which was little more than a t-shirt and an old pair of sweatpants. She was surprised to find that she just didn't care. Once, that would have been mortifying. Now, society's standards just seemed... unimportant to her. It was funny how priorities could shift.

"So what's happening?" Do-il asked. "Are you here to hide from them? Because if that's the case, you're out of luck. They know we're here, which means they now know that you're here too."

"No. I'm here because you need to know that they're coming. They're on the way. It doesn't matter if they saw me. It matters because you need to be ready for them."

In-joo was sure she was misunderstanding. "What do you mean? They're on the way?"

Do-il had suddenly tensed. "They're on the way here?"

"This is it," said Min-jun. "This is what Soo-im was waiting for. They're coming for all of you. You have to leave now."

In-joo couldn't believe what she was hearing. "What are they going to do? Siege the building? They can't just come in here and arrest us."

"They want what Soo-im knows," said Min-jun. "Think about it. Aside from Do-il, she's the highest member of Jeongran who's still free. Her only price is that they help her kill you. That's nothing for them. They've shown that over and over. You have to run, now. Before they get here."

"When are they coming?"

"I don't have a date. I don't know exactly. All I know is that this is what they were planning. I had to get here before them. It could be today. It could be tomorrow. You have to go."

In-joo felt a spike of panic rise up inside of her. Go? They couldn't go. They couldn't leave yet.

In-kyung wasn't back.

And it wasn't like they could safely reach out to her at this point. If In-kyung's flight had landed, contacting her would only make matters worse. Because like Do-il had said, they needed to assume that all of their communications were being monitored.

Do-il spoke the words for her. "That's not an option. We're not all here. And if we leave now, In-kyung and Jong-ho won't know where we've gone. If we leave them a message, they'll still be walking right into a trap." He looked angry at himself. "I should have seen this coming. I just never expected that they would move so brazenly."

In-joo placed a hand on his arm. "It's not your fault. No one expects you to see every single thing that's coming."

"I expect that," Do-il muttered angrily.

"If you stay here, you're going to die," Min-jun said in a panicky voice. "You know that, right?"

"I'm not going to let my sister walk into a death trap by herself," In-joo snapped. She turned to Do-il. "Take In-hye and Hyo-rin and get them out of here."

Do-il snorted. "And let you stay here alone? No, thank you. We'll come up with something else."

But In-joo was all too aware that this time, there might not be something else to come up with. They were running out of time, they didn't have enough knowledge of the situation, and they were, once again, massively outnumbered.

If it turned into a siege, they could remain in the building for an extended period of time. That was really their only recourse. Jeongran couldn't assault the hotel for too long. No amount of power would just allow something like this to casually happen in Los Angeles for very long. Jeongran would need to move things quickly, and they would be relying on their overwhelming force to accomplish that.

"We need to tell In-hye and Hyo-rin," Do-il said after a moment.

In-joo was surprised by that. She would have thought that he would have been in favor of keeping the girls in the dark for as long as possible.

"I know what you're thinking. But this is going to get messy. They deserve to know."

In-joo nodded. "Do we tell the hotel staff?"

Min-jun looked nervous. "We don't know how many of them are on Jeongran's payroll. It isn't a good idea."

That was true, but it didn't sit well with In-joo. If they evacuated the hotel now, they could avoid having anyone else caught in the crossfire. If they just waited, and did nothing... people were likely to get hurt.

"We have to do something. I won't be responsible for anyone else dying," said In-joo.

Min-jun bit his lip. "I'm still an Interpol officer. I might be able to use that to get some ground with the management."

Do-il's face had settled into a stony expression. "But if we start a mass evacuation, it will be obvious to anyone on the outside what's going on." He looked at In-joo. "I'm sorry. We can't."

In-joo rose to her feet. "They already know that Min-jun is here! That means they must already assume that we know they're coming. There's nothing left to keep secret. We just have to do what we can now."

She didn't care about the strategy. She believed so strongly in what she was saying that she would even fight Do-il if it came down to it. "These people are innocent. You remember what happened last time."

"You know I do."

"And you know this is going to be even worse."

Do-il said nothing.

"How many other people are on this floor?" asked Min-jun.

"No one," said Do-il. "It's just us. I made sure of that."

Min-jun nodded. "A compromise then. I use my position to clear a few of the floors below us. I'll come up with something. It will keep the worst of the fighting away from the public if it comes down to that."

In-joo didn't bother adding that she knew it would come down to that. And she didn't see that she had any other choice but to accept the deal. Why? Why did it always have to come back to violence?

"We need to hold out long enough for In-kyung to get here," said Do-il. "Maybe she'll get back before anything happens. If that's the case, then everyone needs to be ready to leave. But if not, then we need to have an escape route planned. They'll be covering any obvious exits, which means we'll need to get creative."

In-joo felt the sinking sensation of helplessness. There was no other way for this to go. People were going to get hurt. People were going to die.

All she could hope for was the survival of her loved ones.

In-hye did her best to comfort Hyo-rin. The details of what was happening were at best complicated and at worst, completely incoherent. Hyo-rin obviously understood on an intellectual level that Soo-im wanted them all dead. But such a violent thought process was utterly alien to the gentle girl's mind. Which led to more confusion. Which led to more fear.

"It's almost over," said In-hye. "Once we make it through this, then we'll be safe. Do-il will find us a way out. And so will Ward."

"Does Ward care about us?"

In-hye hesitated. That was a complicated question. "In his own way, I think he does. He might not even know it yet. But he's not all bad. He's just mixed up." She paused. "I understand that."

"I don't want you to get hurt," Hyo-run said miserably.

"We're both going to be alright," In-hye said with as much confidence as she dared. "But we have to be ready, okay?"

Hyo-rin looked over at the paintings that In-hye had been working on. "But what about these?"

"They can wait," In-hye said. "If we have to run, we can leave them here. They'll be waiting for us when it's safe."

Hyo-rin nodded. Her eyes were very wide. In-hye was so proud of how far her friend had come. Once, this situation would have sent her spiraling into fits of panic. Now, she was able to control her fear to a manageable degree. She wasn't able to eliminate it entirely, but maybe that was okay. In-hye had seen what happened when someone tried to completely quell their emotions. It was better to become overwhelmed than to feel nothing at all.

In-joo had told them as much as they had needed to know. Jeongran was coming, Jeongran was working with the CIA, and none of them could leave until In-kyung was back. And they couldn't reach out to In-kyung because it was likely that anything they said would be recorded and used against them. So all they could do was make sure that they were ready and wait.

The Interpol officer was there too, and he was helping them now. Even risking his life to work with them. It amazed In-hye at how often her sister was able to convince others to join her. Maybe that was one of the benefits of being such a loving soul.

There was a lot for them to do. In-hye was sure that they could just leave their works here. They would simply keep paying the hotel for the rooms, and everything would be as they had left it. But they also needed to be ready to leave at a moment's notice. If In-kyung walked in the room right now, they would be on their way. That meant none of them had any idea how much time they had left.

In-hye helped Hyo-rin pack a small bag. They had moved around so much lately that their possessions had slowly dwindled. It didn't matter, given the amount of money they had access to, but it was a strange feeling from the past year of luxury that they had shared together.

There was, of course, still the question of what would happen with Ward when everything was over. It seemed like the man was still unaware of what Do-il had done with all the money. In-hye assumed that if Ward knew, then he would either refuse to cooperate any further or demand that the transfers were undone.

In-hye didn't even know if the transfers could be undone at this point, given how numerous and complicated they had been. It would take an unimaginably long time—perhaps forever—to unweave the tangled web that Do-il had created for the sole purpose of throwing Ward off their scent.

Betraying the agent didn't feel right, not after he had worked so hard to help them. But he also had no right to the money. In-hye was glad, for once, that some decisions were out of her hands. It kept things simpler.

Inevitably, In-hye knew that one day, she was going to have to grow up. And when that happened, she now knew that she would miss the days of the past when there had been others to make these kinds of calls for her. Just like with everything in life, there was always a give and take.

"We grew up a little," In-hye said quietly as she looked at the paintings that she had been working on since Do-il had arrived with supplies. "I think it happened without us even realizing it."

Hyo-rin stood next to her as they examined each canvas. "Do you think that one day, we'll be able to change the world?" she asked. "It doesn't have to be in a big way. I just want what we create to mean something."

In-hye considered that. It was her dream as well, to make something powerful and moving, art that was capable of sharing a message that resonated with the entire world. But the thing was...

"We already have," she said. "We've already done that."

Maybe it hadn't been a sweeping change, but because of what they had done, the world was different. Not in the way she had ever planned, and certainly not in a way that she had ever thought of, but it had happened.

And they were still so young.

"We'll do it again. As many times as you want," In-hye said, looking at her friend and smiling. "Together."

Soo-im was ready.

Her arrival in the United States wasn't heralded by any great fanfare or the kind of show that she had been used to in Korea when she had been working for Jeongran. But that was fine with her. At this point, she didn't care about money. She only cared about what came next.

Isaac Chambers met her at the airport and filled her in on the current situation. Soo-im was tired and jet-lagged from her flight, but she did her best to retain as much as she could.

Jeongran was preparing to launch an assault on the hotel where the Oh sisters were staying. It would be fast and brutal, and that would be the end of the situation. Afterward, Soo-im would officially join their organization. She knew that they only valued her for her knowledge and background from Korea, but she didn't care. It would put her on the fast track to both power and riches once again, and that was good enough for her.

"What does the timeline look like?" Soo-im asked. "How long do we have?"

"We're still gearing up and assembling an assault team, but we have the entire building under surveillance. If they go anywhere, we'll know."

Soo-im shook her head. "That's not enough. You need to act fast. If you give Choi Do-il enough time, he'll find a way out. That's what he always does."

"We're moving as fast as we can," Chambers said, sounding annoyed at being told what to do.

"Do they know we're coming?"

"The Interpol officer arrived not long ago. Yes."

Soo-im gritted her teeth and tried to keep her anger from boiling over. "Then they're going to be prepared. There aren't that many of them! This shouldn't be so difficult."

"Respectfully," said Chambers, "if that was true, then wouldn't you have done it yourself?"

Soo-im bit her tongue and said nothing. As infuriating as the response was, it was true. She had utterly failed in her attempts. That was the only reason she had decided to work with the Americans anyway.

She didn't like the way they did things. She didn't like the way they spoke to her. She didn't like anything about them other than what they represented to her.

"Tell your men to move faster," said Soo-im. "And tell them that I'll be joining them."

"I'm not certain that's a good idea—"

"I'm the only one who knows him well enough to know how to counter him," said Soo-im. "If you want any chance of winning—if you want to prevent him from tearing through your organization like paper, then you need me there."

Chambers didn't look happy about it as they got into the car that would take them from the airport. But he didn't argue her point. He just reached for his phone and made a call.

Soo-im felt satisfaction wash over her. Soon it would be over.

Soon the world would be free of the stain of the Oh sisters and the waste of space that called itself Choi Do-il.

Soon, everything would be as it was meant to be.

Chapter 43

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Do-il worked as quietly and as calmly as he could, so that he could avoid upsetting anyone that he was with. Inside, his heart was pounding, and it was taking all of his effort to keep his reactions under control. On the outside, he knew what he looked like—the same picture of calmness that he always presented to the world.

He knew what In-joo would say—that he needed to open up a little, that there was no shame in letting people see how he felt. And that might be true. But for right now, that wasn't the side of him that they needed. They needed Do-il the planner, Do-il the mastermind. That was the only way there were going to make it through this.

He feared, more than anything else, not that something would happen to him, but that he wouldn't be good enough to protect them all. Yes, they could take care of themselves. He had seen it over and over again, and he wasn't going to underestimate them.

Yet that did nothing to alleviate his fear. If CIA forces broke into the building, what was In-hye going to be able to do other than hide? The girl was strong and clever, but she wasn't a fighter. She had never needed to be one.

Fortunately, Min-jun had managed to do exactly as he had said he would. Do-il wasn't sure how the Interpol officer had managed it, but a large number of the floors beneath where Do-il and the Oh sisters were staying had been cleared. Do-il had seen law enforcement do this sort of thing before, so he imagined that Min-jun had just made up some story about why it was necessary, and hotel management had just gone along with it. In any case, it opened up a number of possibilities for Do-il.

His goal was to prepare as many floors as he could for a running battle. He didn't have anywhere near the kind of supplies or equipment that he wanted, but he did now have access to a large amount of space. That meant he would be able to gain at least a temporary upper hand as soon as the fighting started.

Part of the issue was that he didn't know what their enemy's goal would be. Were they trying to capture them? Were they simply aiming to kill? What they were trying to do would heavily alter their strategy, and therefore change the way Do-il would need to respond.

He was tired. He had slept reasonably well, but he could feel the mental exhaustion beginning to take its toll on him. If this wasn't wrapped up soon, he would start lagging behind. And that was something he couldn't allow himself to do.

"I'm going to start fortifying the rooms on our floor."

Do-il turned to see Ward standing there. For some reason, that statement came as a surprise to Do-il. Maybe he hadn't expected Ward to actively assist, even though the agent needed to keep their entire group alive to get what he wanted.

For the first time, Do-il found himself questioning if betraying Ward had been the right call. Had the man changed? Was he capable of change?

"Thank you," was all that Do-il decided to say. "Make sure the girls are safe."

Ward turned to go, and then hesitated. "You know that we can't win this, right?"

There it was. The sentence that Do-il had been doing is best to avoid. The thought that he had been trying to ignore for as long as possible. Because if he kept it out of his mind, then In-joo wouldn't be able to tell. And if In-joo couldn't tell, then she could at least have some hope.

He hated lying to her. But the thought of ripping away her hope felt even worse.

It was true. The chances of winning—even their chances of surviving—were practically nonexistent. Do-il was one man. Ward was only one more. Yes, both were highly trained and efficient, but simple numbers would eventually be enough to overwhelm them. It didn't help that they couldn't go anywhere either. There was no real recourse. They would only be able to hold out for a time before they would eventually fall. And after that... it was hard to say what might happen next, but Do-il knew all too well that whatever came next would be horrific.

"I can't afford to think like that," Do-il said.

"I know what you're doing. You're trying to keep it from them," said Ward.

Do-il snapped. "If you're so sure that we're going to die, then why are you even here anymore? If we're all dead, then we have nothing to offer you, so what's the point?"

Ward said nothing. He just looked at Do-il for a long time.

"I'm choosing to give them a reason to keep trying," said Do-il. "If you can't understand that, at least cooperate with it. We've made it this far. You don't know what we might be able to do next."

Ward shook his head. "You don't believe that."

"No. Maybe I don't. But I'm not sure it matters what I believe anymore. I'm not just fighting for myself. I have to think about them now." He looked closely at Ward. "And you're still here. That has to mean something."

Ward didn't have an answer to that, and his confusion was visible on his face. "She doesn't have a right to your lives. And this is the only purpose I have left."

"So leave," said Do-il. "Find a new purpose."

"It's not that easy. I think you know that."

"I changed," said Do-il. "I became more than what I was."

Ward shook his head. "Don't try to inspire me. It doesn't suit you."

"Fine," Do-il replied, his patience worn. "Then go do whatever it is you think you have to do. But don't say a word to them."

"You're going to lie to them," Ward said mildly.

Do-il knew that he wouldn't be able to contain his anger for much longer. "Since when has that ever mattered to you? Either help or leave, but don't pretend that you have some kind of moral high ground over me. I've never pretended to be anything other than what I am."

"Neither have I," said Ward.

"Then you should understand me perfectly well," Do-il said. "Make sure the girls are safe. And work fast. I don't know how much time we have."

Ward looked at him for a moment longer before turning and leaving. Do-il didn't bother to watch him go. He simply returned to rearranging whatever he could find in the hallway to create a more difficult to navigate path alongside cover to be used in case of a firefight.

There were two other things that he needed to prepare as well. The first was an exit route. If In-kyung did return soon, then they would need to leave right away, and they would need to make sure they could do it without being accosted.

The second was a return route for In-kyung. If she came back after things had already started, she would need a way back in that would keep her safe. More than likely, someone would need to go retrieve her.

Do-il wondered if he could solve both of these problems at the same time.

But as he worked, his mind kept returning to what Ward had said. They couldn't win. They couldn't win.

So was this it? After everything they had gone through, was this where it ended? Trapped in a hotel, impossibly far from their homes, in a country that has never cared about their existence. Surrounded by strangers and enemies, with only each other for comfort.

Was this how they were going to die?

Do-il didn't mind dying. It was strange, because once, he would have done anything to keep himself alive. There were too many things that he had wanted to possess, and death would have prevented him from acquiring all of them.

Now, though, it wasn't the thought of his own death that scared it. It was the thought of...

No. That wasn't something worth considering. It wouldn't help him now. It would...

You should go and talk to her. Tell her all the things you haven't said yet. Tell her exactly how you feel, leaving nothing out. You owe her that much. You owe her more.

He had made the mistake of secrecy once. And it had led to a year of regret.

But he couldn't stop what he was doing. When he was finished, when there was more time, then he would go see her. He would tell her everything. For now, he needed to keep working. He needed to make sure that everything was in the right place. He needed to do every single thing he could, because if there was any chance they could make it through, then he needed to treat it as an absolute certainty.

Do-il wasn't just fighting for himself anymore.

And he never would again.

In-joo, once again, felt helpless. It was a feeling that she had experienced more than once in recent memory, and she hated it.

It wasn't that she actually was helpless. After all, she had accomplished impossible things. She had done things that most people would only be able to dream about. Her life had sky-rocketed up out of its lowest possible point, something that many others would kill for.

Yet she still felt the need to combat her helplessness.

It was a funny thing. She knew, of course, that she wielded power. But she needed to remind herself of that. Even more, she needed to convince herself of that.

But now, in the situation they currently found themselves in, her power didn't amount to much. She couldn't talk their enemies down, and she couldn't use her financial strength to buy anyone out. Sometimes, it just came down to the obsessions of individuals and what they desperately believed that they needed.

As much as she hated it, she saw that it was true.

Even so, she didn't feel right about just sitting around while Do-il and Ward took all the risks. They were only two people, and they would likely be going against a small army. Yes, it was true that they had the advantage of preparation and knowledge, but that only went so far. At some point, numbers had to win out.

Then there was the problem of In-hye and Hyo-rin. The girls couldn't be ferried somewhere to safety, because there was nowhere that was safe. The best place for them to be was close to Do-il, which was now the center of the action.

To her credit, In-hye didn't seem to be very alarmed by everything. On the contrary, she was responding to it all far better than any other girl of her age might. She had already packed most of her things, and she was making sure that her current art pieces were tucked away safely in the room. She hadn't allowed In-joo to see what they were, nor would she explain why it was a secret. In-joo was content to let the girl have her privacy. It had been some time now since she had been able to live a normal life, and this was the best that In-joo could offer her.

As far as In-joo could tell, everything was done. She had checked her accounts and her business holdings, and everything seemed to be in order.

She had, without the knowledge of anyone around her, reached out to her lawyer as well. She had a will written already, of course, but it seemed like a good time to update it. Just in case.

She wasn't planning on anything going horribly wrong, but the world rarely cared about what she was planning.

"I wish I had more time," In-hye lamented. Hyo-rin patted her hand, and In-joo looked across the room to where the two girls had just finished putting away their last canvas, draping it with an opaque covering and getting it out of the way.

"You're going to have your whole life," said In-joo gently. "Once we're done here, you'll be able to go anywhere you want."

In-hye nodded, but said nothing. In-joo couldn't tell if the girl believed her or not.

In-joo walked to the window and looked out it. She hoped that Do-il was accomplishing everything he wanted. She hoped that he was okay. She hoped that he came back soon, so that she could spend a little time with him. That was what she really wanted.

Los Angeles didn't care about her. The city below her had never cared about her, and neither had the rest of the world. She had gotten to where she was through blind luck and sheer determination. Her own conscience was part of the reason she had ended up here.

Some people might have regretted taking the steps that had placed them in such danger. But In-joo had never even considered that.

There was a sharp knock at the door, and Ward stepped in a moment later, having acquired a key to the room earlier in the day. They were all sharing their keys at this point, so they could come and go as they pleased.

"Min-jun cleared out a number of the floors below us," he said. "And Do-il is working on making sure that we can gain something of an upper hand."

"What are you doing then?" In-joo asked. She didn't mean for her words to sound as harsh as they did. But her guard was still way up when it came to Jack Ward.

"I'm making sure that the girls are both as safe as they can be," he said.

In-joo still didn't know how to take him, but she didn't get in his way as he began to rearrange the furniture in the room. She couldn't say for sure that she knew what he was doing, but she could tell that he was attempting to set up firing angles and create cover in case someone broke in.

"What's your goal now?" In-joo asked as the American worked.

"You already know my answer to that."

"You can't tell me what you're still doing this for—"

He didn't even look at her. He didn't snap at her either. He just sounded tired. "I'm doing it for the same reason I've done everything. Because I have a goal. And that's the only thing that matters."

"Part of me was hoping you have changed."

"People don't change."

In-joo shook her head. "That's not true. All of us are proof that isn't true. So you can't expect me to believe that anymore."

"You can tell yourself whatever makes you feel better. Once we walk out of here, I'm going to take what I want, and then we'll never see each other again."

"After you clear our names."

Ward nodded as he gripped a table and turned it on its side. "After I clear your names. Do you have a plan for dealing with Jeongran?"

In-joo had been thinking about that, but she didn't see how it mattered anymore. "Once Soo-im is dead, they won't have any reason to work against us. They're only cooperating with her because they want to grab one of the last remaining members of the original society. They tried to do it to Do-il, but he refused."

Ward seemed to agree. "Fair enough."

"I hope you find what you're looking for," In-joo said, a little timidly.

"I don't want to talk about it anymore," Ward said firmly. "I want this to end. And that's all."

"Fine," said In-joo. She looked to In-hye. "If you need me, I'll be in my room. Will you be alright?"

In-hye gave her sister a reassuring smile. "Take some time to yourself. You look like you could use some more sleep."

"It's been a long couple of days," In-joo said heavily. She looked pointedly at Ward. "Make sure they're—"

"I will. You know it's in my best interest to make sure everyone stays alive."

As she walked out into the hall, In-joo supposed that would have to be good enough.

When she closed the door to In-hye's room and turned around, she saw someone coming down the hall toward her, surprising her enough to freeze her on the spot.

"I thought you were..." But she couldn't find the words to finish the sentence. A combination of tiredness and surprise had stolen them from her mouth.

"I was," Do-il said. "But I decided there was something more important for me to do."

They were in the empty hallway, surrounded by closed, faceless doors. The carpet swallowed the sound of Do-il's footsteps as he approached her, walking with confidence. With certainty.

She didn't know what he was going to say or do, and for some reason, her brain was having difficulty forming thoughts as he drew closer. It only took a few seconds for him to be standing right in front of her, looking at her with that serious, yet gentle expression that she had come to know and love.

"I realized that none of this matters if I'm not doing it for a reason," he said. "This is my reason."

"What is?" she asked, not understanding what he was trying to say.

"You," he said simply.

Then he placed his arms around her, drew her in, and kissed her.

It was like the walls of the hotel around them seemed to fade away, revealing the universe beyond. She simultaneously saw nothing and everything, but none of that mattered. The only person that mattered was the man who was right in front of her. The man who was holding her. The man who had saved her. And the man she had saved.

Time slowed to a crawl. That was fine with her. For now, she just wanted to exist in this moment forever, regardless of what came next.

Because this moment was everything.

Notes:

We're still going strong! As we get down to the last few chapters (Not yet, but soon), I may disappear for an extended period of time so that I can finish EVERYTHING and then provide daily, regular updates. I don't want to leave anyone waiting too long and I don't want to create any cliffhangers. If I decide to do this, I will definitely let you know first!

I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thank you for reading!

Chapter 44

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

At some point, they had made their way back into In-joo's room. She had been wholly unaware of the fact that they had moved at all, but she didn't care. The only thing that mattered in the world was Do-il. The crisis, the danger—none of that was real right now. Her brain felt like it was barely working, and that was alright with her. She didn't want to remember. She didn't want to think.

She just wanted to exist in this moment. She wanted to be able to remember every detail. Every touch.

Do-il was impossibly gentle, and somehow, that didn't come as a surprise to her. For as long as she had known him, he had wanted to protect her. Even when she had just been another asset to him, he had always spoken to her with a kindness that had, at first, come out of nowhere.

"I missed you so much," she whispered. Her voice caught on the last word. She had wanted this. To be with him. To let him know what he meant to her.

"I'm not going anywhere," he murmured. "Ever."

She drew herself closer to him again, her lips against his. It felt like a dream. It was a moment that she hadn't even allowed herself to imagine because of how impossible it had always seemed. Who was she, to have found someone like this? She had loved before—or so she had thought. But she was realizing that everything that had come before was only a pale imitation of what could be.

And this was what she had been searching for.

It made sense to her now—the concept of love. She had always thought others foolish for putting so much stock in it. For her, it had been a means to an end. A way to find someone capable of supporting her, of lifting her out of the place in life that she had been stuck in for so long.

Do-il wasn't like that. She wouldn't have cared if he had nothing. She would have chosen to be with him if he had been penniless. Because of how he made her feel. Because of how he treated her. Because of how he spoke and how he thought.

Because of who he was. And who he had become.

"This is all I ever wanted," In-joo said. It was a simple sentence, but to her, it felt like the most vulnerable thing she could say. She was breathless, her heart racing, and she no longer cared to keep her feelings hidden. They had no time. They had nothing but each other.

And that was enough.

Do-il responded to her, and his response was something she would have never predicted, not from him. Not from the stoic, serious man who had stolen her heart.

"I never knew I wanted this. I don't think I ever wanted it until I met you." He pulled back from her, just a little and she saw a deep sadness in his eyes. A regret—for the wasted years maybe. "You changed everything for me."

There wasn't much else for them to say. There wasn't much else that needed to be said. There was only so much that words could accomplish, and after that, silence was more important.

In-joo allowed herself to become lost in the moment, as the seconds stretched into minutes. And as she became lost, she started to find herself in his arms. It wasn't about being saved. It wasn't about being fixed. It was about learning how to rely on someone. How to give yourself to someone. How to open up and trust, with every fiber of your being.

She whispered his name, and that whisper carried immeasurable meaning for both of them.

As Do-il walked to her floor, it had felt like his body had been under the control of someone else. Someone who wasn't afraid of emotion. Someone who wasn't afraid of honesty.

Someone who knew what they wanted and was willing to reach for it, because some things were too important to allow pass.

And now that he was with her, and the two of them were alone in her room, it felt like his heart had suddenly understood something monumental about existence. He couldn't explain what it was, but he knew that it was there. And that was enough.

Do-il was afraid. He was so afraid that he realized he was shaking, though at first, he couldn't explain why.

In-joo placed her hand on his chest, and he knew that she could feel his heart thumping painfully through his shirt. "What is it?" she asked. "Do-il, you're shaking."

How did he tell her? How did he explain to her that he knew these were likely to be the last moments that they were able to share? What words could he use that would help her make sense of the fact that this coming fight was not something that they could survive?

Do-il knew that they were going to die. And he feared not for himself, but for In-joo. For her sisters. For the unfairness of their situation.

But he couldn't bring himself to say it. He still wanted to protect her, even if it was only protecting her ability to hope.

"You can tell me," she said. "Whatever it is, you can tell me."

He shook his head and trembled even harder. It was the first time he could remember feeling like this, so overwhelmed by his own emotions that it had rendered him unable to speak.

In-joo gently led him to the bed and helped him sit down, then placed her arms around him and pulled him close once more. "I know," she whispered. "Do-il, I know. I'm not blind. You don't have to carry the weight on your own."

Do-il looked at her, and opened his mouth, but still, no sound emerged.

"I know what's going to happen," she said quietly. "It's okay. I don't regret what we've done. I don't regret any of the choices I've made. Everything I did, I did because it was a decision that I could live with. I did what I was thought was right. We did what we thought was right."

There was a gaping hole in Do-il's chest. It felt like his life was slowly leaking out of him, and with it came a horrific pain that stole his breath and brought stars to his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but his voice was hoarse and barely audible. "I'm sorry. I don't want it to end like this. If there was anything I could do just to make sure that you could leave..."

In-joo shook her head and hushed him. He could see the tears in her eyes. They looked like tiny diamonds, the smallest and most flawless gems he had ever seen. "I wouldn't leave even if I could. You told me that you're not going anywhere. How could I do anything different?"

And then, Do-il spoke words that shocked him, because he hadn't even realized they were true until they had already left his mouth. "I don't want to die. I'm not ready."

In-joo looked at him with the kind of tender care that he had so rarely experienced in his life. "Whatever happens, you won't be alone when it does. You have me. You have friends."

Do-il looked at her and took a shaky breath. There wasn't much left for him to say. He didn't want to waste the time they still had together with words. He wanted to memorize every inch of her face, because when the fighting started, he wanted to be able to remember every detail. He wanted a reminder of who had helped him become the man he was today.

Actually, there was one more thing that he needed to say. Something that he hadn't said to anyone in a very, very long time. Something that scared him more than he could ever remember. But also something that filled him with a fire and steel that he knew would allow him to accomplish wonders.

"In-joo," he said, and suddenly he was very still. His voice was strong and his shaking had ceased.

Her eyes met his, and he could tell that she knew what he would say next. But knowing wasn't enough. He wanted her to hear it.

"I love you," he said. "And I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry for a lot of things."

"Shh," she said with a small smile. "You don't have to apologize. I love you too. And I think right now, that's the only thing that matters."

His sadness and fear vanished, because if he had her love, what did any of the rest of it mean? Tomorrow would come, and they would face it together, but he would face it with the knowledge that he could stand with In-joo.

This time, when he took her in his arms and kissed her, he didn't let go.

Min-jun had a plan. But for it to work, he needed to keep it secret, and he needed to move without anyone knowing what he was doing. That meant leaving a note and slipping out before anyone noticed him.

It was stupid, mostly because he knew full well that he wasn't operating anywhere near the top of his game, but that wasn't the point. They would thank him later if he was successful.

And if he wasn't successful... then they would likely never know.

The problem was that they had no plan for getting In-kyung and Jong-ho back inside, and even if they pulled that off, the chances of them successfully escaping were next to nothing. Min-jun needed to find a way to leave the building and remain incognito. If he could manage that, then that would mean there was a way in and out. It could be the answer to the biggest tactical problems they were facing.

Ultimately, he decided to accomplish all his goals at once.

After speaking with hotel management and utilizing his position as an Interpol member to clear several floors beneath where the Ohs were staying, he then proceeded to commandeer several sets of clothing, each a different uniform belonging to one of the sets of staff at the hotel.

He slipped into a staff break room and quickly changed in the bathroom, leaving his own clothes in one of the staff lockers. There was a brief moment where he questioned what he was doing. Why was he risking his life for a group of people who were practically strangers to him?

That thought vanished almost as soon as it crossed his mind. The answer was obvious—it was the right thing to do. He cursed himself for having morals and gathered up his resolve. If anything was going to go wrong, it was going to happen now.

He knew what airport In-kyung and Jong-ho would be at. It was a little strange that they hadn't returned by now—there was no reason for the flight to take that long or for their journey to be so delayed. But for some reason, he wasn't worried that something had gone drastically wrong.

If something catastrophic had occurred, he would have heard about it. Soo-im would have used In-kyung as a bargaining chip.

A quick check of the flight list made it clear what had occurred. The two had run into not one, but two delayed flights. Briefly, Min-jun wondered if the CIA had done something to delay the flight. It wouldn't hard for them, and it wouldn't be the first time they had done such a thing. But it was entirely possible for it to be just a string of bad luck.

In either case, it left Min-jun plenty of time to get to the airport and intercept them.

He would pick them up and then disguise them as best he could with the clothing he had picked up. Ideally, this would let them back in the building, even if it was under surveillance or, at worst, under active siege.

He couldn't imagine what that would even look like, but at this point, he didn't want to put anything out of reach for Jeongran. They had made it quite clear just how far they were willing to go, and he wasn't going to underestimate Soo-im's obsession.

Obsession. That's what it was, really. It was the thing that drove so many people to their fates and pushed so many to do things that would have been otherwise unthinkable. It had shaped Jack Ward into the man he was. It had sent Choi Do-il down a path that he had almost not managed to come back from.

And from what Min-jun knew about the Oh sisters, it had almost torn their lives into pieces as well.

At this point, Min-jun didn't see a way this ended without bloodshed. He knew what Do-il was thinking: that they were all going to die. And maybe that was how it would end. But Min-jun wasn't willing to walk away without trying. That wasn't the kind of person he was. Nor was he willing to throw away all hope. Things looked bad, if not impossible.

But the Oh sisters had done the impossible before. Who was to say that they couldn't do it again?

As Min-jun waited for the car he had hired to pick him up, he adjusted the hat and the maintenance coveralls that he was wearing. He smiled to himself. Would In-kyung even recognize him like this? Probably not. But that was for the best. He didn't want anyone to be able to recognize him.

If they could surprise Jeongran, then maybe there was still a chance for them to all walk away alive.

When In-joo walk hope, Do-il was gone. There was a letter on the table beside the bed, but she didn't have to read it. She already knew where he had gone.

So she just let herself rest there for a few minutes, allowing her eyes to adjust to the darkness of the room. It was hard to tell how much time had passed, and truthfully, she didn't want to know. She was happier to remain in ignorance for now. Just for a little longer.

The world outside that room was too cruel to consider right now. And just for a little bit, she would grant herself permission to be selfish. So that she could hold onto her memories of what had come before. That would be where she drew her strength from.

She thought about Do-il. She thought about how open and vulnerable he had been with her. It was a side of him that he had never completely shown to her before, but she felt like she understood him now better than ever.

Eventually, she rolled over and gently lifted the letter from the table. She unfolded it and tried to imagine him sitting there in the darkness, writing to her. His handwriting was even and neat, and she could tell immediately how much care he had put into it. The same kind of care he put into everything he did.

In-joo,

I know. I should have stayed. And every part of me wanted to, more than anything else.

But I couldn't. Because if I had, my conscience wouldn't have allowed me a moment of rest. I have to try.

I know very well how impossible our situation is. As much as I didn't want to admit it to you, I simply don't see any way this ends without terrible loss.

I'm afraid of loss. I always have been. It's one of the defining reasons for most of the things I've done in my life. But I can't let that fear control me any longer. There are things that I need to do, just so I know that I've done everything I can.

I love you, In-joo. I loved you all the way back in that airport, and I was too afraid to tell you, because I was too afraid of what might come next.

I don't actually know why I'm writing this letter. There isn't any real need for it. You'll see me again, and you understand me better than any other person I know. But I'm writing it anyway, because I couldn't bear the idea of you waking up completely alone.

More than that, I wanted to create something permanent. Something that you could hold onto as a reminder of how I feel. I don't know what will happen in the future, and I didn't want to leave you with nothing.

So please remember. If everything feels like it is lost. If you see no other way forward. If everything we fear comes to pass—remember what you were able to do for me. Remember the time we had together, even if it was far too brief.

I'm sorry it took me so long to be able to talk about it. And I'm grateful that you were always willing to wait for me, even when I knew that you wanted to reach out, grab me, and shake me.

You did shake me. But you did it from the inside, in the most gentle way possible. You rearranged the way I saw the world. And that's something I can't repay you for.

Thank you for showing me that I wasn't as far gone as I had believed. Thank you for not giving up on me, even when I had given up on myself.

I still find myself hoping for the best, even against my own better knowledge. Maybe that's part of your influence on me.

Be with your sister. I should see you soon. If not, then at least know that I did everything I could.

Love,

Do-il

In-joo didn't know what to say. She didn't think there was anything left to say. Because Do-il was right. She did understand him. And she knew what it had taken to write that letter.

And she knew that though he could have stayed with her, he had instead chosen to head back out into the hotel and continue the work that he had started before, all for the hope of possibly tipping the odds in their favor. Everything had to be accounted for. That was the way he did things.

She read the letter again. This time, before she was even halfway through, her vision was too blurred by tears to make any more of it out.

Notes:

The end is approaching fast. It's hard to believe that we're really getting there. This story has been so much of my life for the past three months and it feels surreal to be this far into it.

I hope you enjoy, and I'll see you all very soon!

Chapter 45

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"I'm sorry, sir, you can't carry weapons—"

"You're not listening to me," Do-il said, trying to fight back his temper. "The two of us are here because we're trying to keep people alive. The ones who are coming here don't care."

Ward was silent, but his stony expression spoke volumes. It was obvious that he was much less in control of his impatience than Do-il was.

"You spoke to the Interpol officer, correct?" Do-il asked, speaking as if the manager was a small child.

"Yes, and he told me that you were with him—"

"And he told you that you need to manage the panic and keep the floors around ours clear, correct?"

The manager looked at the phone next to him nervously. "Then why aren't we calling the police? People's lives are at risk. There's only two of you."

Ward stepped forward. "Because we can't trust them. We don't even trust you."

The manager swallowed. "I... see."

Ward growled and reached for something on the inside of his suit jacket. He pulled out a badge. "I'm with the CIA, you short-sighted idiot. Do you really want to be having this argument?"

"I'm just trying to do my job!"

Do-il sighed and stepped in before Ward got more aggressive. "I know. We know that. But we're under a lot of pressure right now, and the best thing for you and your staff to do is just comply with what we're saying."

"Or maybe we should just evacuate the entire hotel!"

Do-il rubbed the bridge of his nose. "We've already explained. If we do that right now, our enemies will be forced to act immediately, and none of us are prepared to deal with that. If we force them to come after us, we can at least control the location of the fight."

The manager appeared to have broken into a cold sweat. "A fight?"

Do-il didn't think that the conversation was going to go anywhere, and he had given up hope of convincing the manager to let them come and go as they please. Maybe it was time to resort to Ward's methodology. Do-il stepped away from the manager and gestured for Ward to take his place.

"I don't think you're understanding," said Ward. "He cares about what happens to you. I don't. So if you've exhausted his patience, then you're not thinking correctly."

The manager's eyes shifted back and forth between the two men. Finally, he nodded, and his voice was a nervous whisper. "Okay. Alright. Fine. But if anything happens..."

"If anything happens, we'll make sure to minimize any harm that might come to you, your employees, or your patrons," said Do-il. "But if you mass evacuate now, it will only make things worse."

The manager sighed. "What do you need?"

"Access to all floors and rooms. Master keys. I promise you, they're only after us."

"Who are they?" the manager asked.

Do-il chuckled. "That's a story that would take more time than we have right now. But I think you can imagine the kind of people that we're talking about."

The manager didn't say anything else, but he went to comply with what Do-il had asked for. Do-il simply stood there and waited. There wasn't anything else to say.

He was still regretting the fact that he had left In-joo behind. It had been the prudent thing to do, but that hadn't made him feel any better about it. He would see her when preparations were finished. For now, there was a job to do.

But part of him was back there with her. It was hard for him to separate himself from that. There had been something so significant about it, and he knew it was a moment that he was going to be living in for a very long time.

Part of him was happy about that. The other part of him was worried that it might cause him to lose his edge in a fight. A large part of his strength had always come from the fact that he was able to divorce himself from emotional reactions. And he remembered how he had nearly snapped and lost it when Ward had broken in and threatened the two of them. He hadn't been angry that he was being threatened. He had been furious over the possibility of anything happening to In-joo.

How much more intense would his reaction be now?

It was almost funny—he didn't even consider the possibility of fighting the way he felt. He knew that there was nothing he could do about it. He also knew that In-joo wasn't some helpless little girl who needed protecting, but that wasn't the point.

He loved her. And if he could make sure she was safe, there was nothing he wouldn't do.

After the manager gave the two of them a handful of key cards, they began to make their way back upstairs. "Do we need to worry about snipers?" Ward asked.

It was a legitimate concern, especially for a building with this many windows. But Do-il didn't think that it was something they needed to consider. "Soo-im won't be satisfied with it being that quick and easy," he said. "They'll try to take us alive and then turn us over to her."

Ward's mouth was a grim line. "Then if we have to go down..."

Do-il nodded. "It's better to go down fighting."

He was still all too aware of the fact that there was little to no chance of winning the fight. For him, survival would be the victory. And the entire situation had been complicated by the fact that Min-jun seemed to have vanished without explanation. Do-il didn't think that the Interpol agent had betrayed them—that simply wouldn't make sense given what had already occurred. But it was one more complication in a long series of them.

He could only hope that Min-jun knew what he was doing.

"We don't have the kind of firepower that we need," said Do-il as they made their way through the hotel. The upper floors were unrecognizable at this point. The two of them had rearranged practically everything that wasn't nailed down to create what looked like an obstacle course. Anything to slow down anyone who might be trying to breach their defenses.

"We have a little more than you might expect. I reached out to a few contacts I can still trust."

Do-il raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure you can trust them?"

"They're not the kind of people Jeongran would bother with. It's the same with them, every time. They don't pay attention to the ones they think don't matter. Until it's too late."

Do-il knew that was true. It was how the Jeongran remnant had managed to take them by surprise in the first place. "What do you have?"

"More than we had before. And one high-powered, long-distance rifle."

Do-il knew what Ward meant by that, but there was a risk attached to it. "If you're using a sniper to cover the outside, they'll be able to see you through the window."

"I didn't make it that easy for them. And like you said, they're not going to want to just kill me that easily."

Do-il wished it was that simple. "Things might be different for you. You weren't part of... our group."

"I've come this far," said Ward. "It's a risk I'm willing to take."

Do-il struggled to understand how the Ward they had known before was the same one who was now willing to risk his life to fight alongside them. Yes, he was still doing it for his own personal gain, but that didn't make it any less surprising.

And again, Do-il considered how they planned to betray the man. He would never see the money that he was expecting. He would never find the justice that he had been searching for. And yet they were leading him on, making him believe that he would find it all. That in the end, he would accomplish his goal.

Do-il stopped. It didn't matter what Ward had done in the past. Leading a man to his death for no reason was wrong.

"There's something I need to tell you," Do-il said quietly. It felt like someone else was speaking for him. It wasn't like him, to make decisions like this. He executed plans, regardless of the cost. That was what he did. This... was something else.

He felt the influence of In-joo with every word.

Ward stopped and turned. Do-il saw the face of a very tired individual. Someone who was slowly burning himself out with his hatred of the world.

Do-il saw the kind of person he had very nearly begun.

Strangely, though, Ward spoke first, not letting Do-il finish his sentence. "I already know."

Do-il blinked. "What?"

"I already know what you did. I checked the finances myself while we were preparing. You didn't think I'd just leave it all to chance, did you? I know the money isn't there anymore. I know that you moved it so that I would never be able to find what I was looking for unless you wanted me to."

Do-il knew that he should be preparing for a fight. He knew that this was likely it, this would be the moment where Ward snapped and the two of them were forced into a conflict—a conflict that would end any of their slim hopes for a resolution where they all survived.

"So now what?" Do-il asked. "Is this where you try to kill me?"

But Ward just looked at him. There was no anger in his expression. No disappointment. In fact, there was almost nothing at all. His face was frighteningly blank.

"No," said Ward.

"No?"

"Now we fight Jeongran. We make sure we all walk out of here alive."

"Why?" Do-il asked. It was a small question, just one word, but it said everything he was thinking. Why would Ward agree to work with them at all if he knew? Why wouldn't he just leave? Or worse, why didn't he turn them over to Soo-im, since there was no longer any point in cooperating.

"Why?" asked Ward. "Why am I still here? Why am I standing and talking to you, instead of just killing you? That's a good question. And I'm not sure I know."

He stopped, but he seemed to have more on his mind, so Do-il remained silent.

"I think part of it is because even if I do quit now, I'll still have a target on my back. I came this far, and they all know what I've done. I can walk away, but that won't stop them from coming after me. And if that was all of it, it would make sense, but I know that isn't it. I know there's more."

He was still looking at Do-il, but he seemed to be seeing someone else. It was like he wasn't standing in the hallway anymore. He had gone elsewhere.

"I think maybe I'm just tired of it all. And I think I've been tired of it for a long time, but I'm only realizing it now. When it's too late. In-joo tried to tell me, over and over, and I didn't listen to her. But when I looked at those financial reports and I realized how easily you had fooled me, I knew there wasn't anything left."

Do-il shook his head. "You expect me to believe that you just had a change of heart? It can't be that simple. It never is."

"I didn't say that. I wish I had a simple answer for you, I really do. But you know better than anyone that none of this is simple."

"How am I supposed to trust you? How are any of us supposed to believe what you're saying?"

Ward laughed. "Do you really want to have this argument now? Jeongran could be breaching the building as we speak. And be honest with me—did you ever trust me? Because if you did, and this is what caused you to flip the other way, maybe you should be asking yourself what that says."

"So that's it then? You spend your life chasing a goal and then when you're confronted with the loss of it—"

"Do you want me to turn on you? Because that's what this is starting to sound like."

Do-il fell silent. Ward was... right. He had no choice but to trust the man now. Things had gone too far to turn back.

"When I saw what you had done, I won't lie, there was a brief moment where my mind exploded into all the possibilities for revenge. I considered killing you. I considered betraying you."

Do-il, who had managed to calm himself, asked carefully, "Then what made you change your mind?"

"The Ohs."

At that, Do-il couldn't help but smile. "They have a way of changing people."

"I don't think they changed me. I think I changed on my own, but I was too blinded by my own anger to see it. It just... needs to end. All of it. Jeongran. The conspiracies. All the people who think they deserve the right to control the world. I don't care what happens next. I just know that this needs to stop."

Do-il considered the American agent standing in front of him. Ward was a far cry from the vengeful, obsessed killer that they had first met back in Korea. He barely seemed like the same person. He looked like a shell of that man.

"I think I knew what you had done even before I looked. I don't know if I had expected it, or if I had just known that I deserved it. But either way, this is where we are now. This is where I am."

Do-il wondered if the man was so willing to fight just because he wanted to die. To throw away years of your life in pursuit of a goal that then suddenly became impossible—it was enough to drive most men to madness.

"I don't think I'll ever forgive you," said Ward, and Do-il could hear a hint of the old Jack Ward. "And once this is over, if we're all still here, I won't want anything to do with any of you. But I made a deal with you. I'll fulfill it. Even if your end of the bargain was thrown away a long time ago."

Strangely, Do-il felt shame. He knew that he hadn't done anything wrong, but this whole situation went beyond right and wrong. It was all so twisted up at this point that he no longer knew if he should even feel regret.

"Thank you," Do-il said finally.

"Don't." Ward didn't elaborate. "I don't want to hear it. Don't misunderstand me. We're not friends, and we never will be."

"I understand you perfectly fine," Do-il said. He felt cool clarity wash over him. Once again—maybe for the last time—he saw himself so clearly in Ward. The possibility of what he could have become. The kind of person that In-joo had saved him from being.

"Good. Then let's finish this," said Ward, before turning and continuing on in the direction they had originally been going.

Do-il's muscles unclenched. He hadn't even realized how tense he had been, but now that the potential of Ward exploding into violence had vanished, he could allow himself to relax.

He started to follow the agent, who had just turned a corner and was moving to the next flight of stairs—but he didn't make it.

That was when it began.

"Freeze," came the voice from behind him.

Do-il came to a sudden stop. The voice was muffled by what sounded like a mask or helmet, and it didn't contain an ounce of hesitation.

"Okay," said Do-il. His mind was in overdrive, trying to figure out how they had gotten behind him, but it didn't matter. He had been prepared for this. There was likely a team coming up the stairs right now, maybe from multiple entrance points. They could have come in from the roof. They could have people on the hotel staff.

There had been no way to be completely prepared for this.

And that was why he knew that there was no chance of them winning.

"Put your hands over your head and get on the ground."

Do-il started to move slowly, trying to buy himself more time. He didn't know how many of them there were, but he could guess. At least four. Maybe as many as six. Hopefully, Ward had meant what he had said. Because right now, Do-il needed backup.

"Do it now!"

"Alright."

He put his hands behind his head and started to get down on his knees. If they took him here, all because he had been engaged in a meaningless conversation with someone he didn't care about, then there was no possible way to salvage any of the situation. They would all die, and Soo-im would win.

It didn't happen like that.

The speaker, whom he still hadn't seen, stepped behind him and fastened one handcuff onto Do-il's wrist. The man was about to close the second loop, when Ward came into view at the end of the corridor.

"Don't," said Ward, his gun already drawn and aimed. "Step back and let him go, or you die."

It was a pointless bluff. Ward couldn't drop all of them. But he didn't need to. All he needed to do was get their attention long enough for Do-il to—

With the handcuff still on one of his wrists, Do-il threw himself backwards, whipping his arm as hard as he possibly could. The metal crashed into the man's helmet, hard enough to crack it and send him stumbling backwards.

Do-il became a blur of movement.

Ward fired his gun.

There would be no more encounters after this. By the time they were done, either Soo-im would be dead, or none of them would be left standing.

One way or the other, it was about to end.

Notes:

The end is approaching quickly. I'm going to keep working as quickly as I can. I also am going to be keeping my notes short now until the end because I don't want to risk spoiling anything. Thanks for reading and thanks for coming back!

Chapter 46

Chapter Text

In-joo didn't know that anything had happened. She wasn't aware that any of it had started. But she had a feeling. A deep pit in the middle of her stomach that was enough to make her too uneasy to sit still. She was trying to withhold her anxiety so that she didn't upset In-hye or Hyo-rin, but it was all she could do to keep herself from getting up and pacing the room in circles.

In-hye seemed to know anyway. "He's going to be okay."

In-joo swallowed hard and fought back a wave of fear. "He's not the only one I'm worried about. In-kyung isn't here either. And Jong-ho is with her. I just want everyone to be okay."

"Do-il will manage it," said In-hye. She spoke with the strange confidence that she had possessed for so much of her life. "He always does."

In-joo wanted that to be true. It had always been true in the past. And it was clear that In-hye had absolute faith in Do-il's ability to keep them all safe.

But In-joo was no longer so certain. Things had happened too quickly. Things had changed.

"You love him," said In-hye calmly. "It's only natural that you're worried about him."

In-joo once would have tried to protest and deny it, because what good could come from that anymore? What difference did it make if the whole world knew? This was how she felt. This was her truth.

"I do," In-joo said.

And In-hye smiled at her. "I'm happy for you two."

"I just wish things would have happened faster. We wasted so much time. And now... I don't know if we'll have anymore." In-joo looked at the ground. She wanted to turn her head away and bury it in her hands so that she didn't have to face the reality of the world. But there was nowhere to turn. Nowhere to hide. Because reality had come crawling to their doorstep.

Or the doorstep of someone else, one that they were only temporarily calling home.

"I wish we were back in Korea," said In-joo. "At least that would feel like home. At least then I would feel like I belong. It never really mattered how much money I had, I guess. I mean, it was nice to not have to worry. It was nice to be able to live a life without having to think about how I would afford rent. And those things are important. But sometimes I just wish I was at home. Somewhere that really felt like home."

In-hye nodded. "I know. I feel the same way." She looked at Hyo-rin. "I think we both do. It's hard to find somewhere you belong. And it's hard to find someone who accepts all of you. And that's why it's so important to hold on to them when you do find them."

In-joo realized that Do-il had always accepted her. When she had been poor. When she had been no one. He had never judged her. Even when he had just seen her as a means to an end, he still had simply accepted her for who she was.

"There really is no one like him," she whispered to herself. In-hye and Hyo-rin could hear her, but she didn't care.

"What will you do when this is over?" asked In-hye. "Do you have any plans?" She sounded hopeful. In-joo didn't understand why.

"I'm not sure yet," In-joo said. "What is it?"

In-hye almost looked embarrassed. "I don't know. It's just... I thought it would be nice to be with you. Just for a little, before we all go our separate ways."

And In-joo saw so much hope and pain in In-hye's eyes that it moved her to stand up and walk to her younger sister, kneeling down so she was at eye level with the girl. "I won't be going anywhere. You don't have to worry. Whatever happens, we'll still have each other. We're family. Nothing is going to change that."

In-hye seemed to be relieved. Hyo-rin looked at her and smiled warmly. In-joo could tell that something had happened between the girls. It had been subtle and it might not have been anything earth-shattering, but there seemed to be a new kind of understanding between them now. In-joo hoped that whatever it was, it brought In-hye joy.

Some of In-joo's worry had evaporated as well. Maybe it was just talking to her sister. Maybe it was the reminder of how she knew that Do-il would do anything for her. Maybe it was—

The gunshot was loud enough that they could hear it, even though it was floors below them. All of In-joo's thoughts vanished. The only thing she could focus on was that Do-il was now in danger, and that In-kyung still wasn't here.

In-joo looked at her sister, whose eyes were now wide with apprehension.

"It's going to be okay," In-joo whispered.

She prayed that she was telling the truth.

Do-il knew that this was just the beginning of the fight for his life. No, not just his life. If it was just his life, then it wouldn't matter so much. Everything depended on what he and Ward were able to accomplish.

I can't win. I can only delay losing.

The thought crept into his mind unbidden, and he forced it out. Because now, thoughts like that would only be a weakness.

Ward had bought Do-il enough space to be able to throw himself forward and get within striking distance of the rest of the team. They couldn't open fire with their weapons anymore for fear of shooting each other, which meant Do-il could do what he did best.

He had never planned on being a fighter. Somewhere along the way though, it had just become a necessary skill. When he had been young and alone, he had been an easy target for bullies, for the kind of people who looked for those who had no one. And he had needed to learn how to defend himself, just to stay safe.

In the years that had followed, he had gone from untrained street brawler, to a disciplined fighter who never threw a punch unless it was necessary. And even then, he made sure that there was never an ounce of wasted movement.

Surrounded on all sides by heavily armed professionals, with only one man as backup, Do-il knew that for most other people, this would be a death sentence.

Choi Do-il was not most other people. And he possessed a motivation that dew could match.

He spun, whipping the handcuffs into another man's face, forcing him to take an involuntary step back. Do-il pressed his advantage as one of the attackers to his side raised a sidearm. Do-il sidestepped, grabbed the man's wrists, and twisted, before sweeping his leg out and knocking the man to the ground. The gun popped out at the same time as the assailant toppled over.

Ironically, as the number of attackers dropped, things would get more dangerous, since they would be able to bring their weapons to bear.

Do-il wasn't going to let that happen.

Ward was advancing down the hallway, periodically firing, though he wasn't trying to kill. Do-il could tell immediately that he was trying to buy Do-il enough room to maneuver and to keep their enemies suppressed.

Dead bodies wouldn't help them. A prisoner? Well, that might.

But Do-il knew Jeongran, and hostages would mean nothing to them. Not in the face of their ultimate goal. He had watched as they had sacrificed people who had once devoted their entire lives to the society. A few masked agents? They were meaningless in the grand scale.

"Tell Soo-im that if she comes in here, she's dead," Do-il said as he ducked, reached out, and grabbed one of the still standing men by the neck before slamming him into the wall. "Ask her if her vendetta is worth dying over."

None of them said anything. They just moved closer, and the one that Do-il had a grip on went for a knife.

He never even managed to get it out. Instead, Do-il just smashed the metal of the cuffs into the combat helmet, connecting so powerfully that the uniformed attacker went limp in his grasp. Do-il turned and tossed the body as hard as he could at the two who were still standing. They dodged backward and lifted their guns, which gave Ward enough time to fire twice, dropping them both before they could pull the trigger.

"Thanks," said Do-il, taking a step back. "Help me find the handcuff key."

Ward moved without saying anything, searching the bodies with the practiced speed of someone who had done it many times before. He snagged something off one of their belts and tossed it to Do-il, who caught it and inserted the small piece of metal into the cuff in one smooth motion.

"We don't have time," Do-il said. "We have to hurry. If they sent one team, they definitely sent more. We have to get back."

"It's happening too fast," Ward muttered, checking the amount of rounds left in his gun. "They caught us by surprise. This shouldn't have happened."

But it had happened. And it didn't matter if it was happening too fast. They needed to deal with it all the same.

Min-jun had been successful—he had found In-kyung and Jong-ho and managed to get them out of the airport before anything had happened. That wasn't to say he expected anything to happen there, but it had always been a possibility.

In-kyung looked like she was going to jump out of her skin. Jong-ho was trying to calm her down, but only partially succeeding. Min-jun had tried to explain the situation to them, but there weren't many words that could do justice to the dilemma that they all found themselves in.

It was the lack of communications that was killing them now. There was no way to get in contact with Do-il or anyone who was still in the hotel. Not without tipping off Jeongran.

"We'll wear full-body disguises," Min-jun said as the driver he had hired took them back to the area near the hotel. "And we'll go in through the basement staff entrance. Management showed it to me and gave me outfits that will make us look like maintenance."

"What if Jeongran has already started the siege?" In-kyung asked. "How do we get in then?"

Min-jun was prepared for that, because he was fairly sure that when they got there, that was exactly what would be happening.

"They won't be able to stop anyone who works there," he said. "They'll orchestrate a media blackout, like they did in Korea, but they can't control social media. As long as we can act like nothing is wrong, then they won't say anything to us. They won't want to risk it."

He hoped that was true. It was logical, and he had seen things handled that way before, but at this point, he wasn't sure where they would draw the line. If law enforcement was involved, it was possible that the hotel would be entirely blocked off and that there would be no way in.

If that was the case, there was only one option—the nearby parking garage, which contained a tunnel that connected to the maintenance basement access of the hotel. It required a key that he didn't have, but he could improvise if needed.

And he would need to. Lives depended on it now.

He noticed that In-kyung kept snatching glances at a bag she was holding. It wasn't luggage—she hadn't been gone long enough to need to bring extensive luggage with her, but he couldn't guess what else it might be. It was clear from the way that she held it that it was important to her—or at least, that she thought it was important.

"I hope you have a plan," Min-jun said nervously. "I can get us in... but that's the best I can do."

Once again, In-kyung looked at the black bag. "It's a little less than a plan, and a little more than a prayer."

Min-jun wished that inspired confidence. It didn't.

As they approached the area of the city that the hotel was in, traffic began to slow to a crawl. At first, it wasn't apparent what the cause of the slowdown was, but as they got closer, he could start to see enough to have an idea.

Damn.

Law enforcement was involved, and while they weren't setting up road blocks, they were setting up checkpoints. There would be no easy escape once they were within the perimeter.

"Do we need to worry about this?" Jong-ho asked.

The driver was also starting to look nervous, and he kept glancing over at where Min-jun was sitting.

"I have IDs for all of us," said Min-jun. "They'll be enough to get us in. We work there, after all." What he didn't add was that the IDs likely wouldn't pass more than a cursory inspection. They would have to rely on the fact that the officers were likely dealing with far too much to give more than a moment's thought to what was going on.

The car slowed down as they pulled up to the nearest checkpoint. The driver looked at Min-jun one last time. "Are you sure this isn't an issue?" he asked. He appeared to be sweating. "I don't know what you three have yourself mixed up in, but I don't think I want any part of it."

Min-jun nodded as confidently as he could manage. "It's going to be fine. Just pull up to the checkpoint."

The driver swallowed hard and did as instructed. A uniformed officer walked over. "License? IDs?"

Min-jun passed over the three shoddily made IDs that made it look like they were employees of the hotel. The driver passed over his license. The officer looked harried and confused, like he didn't really know what he was supposed to be doing here.

"Not really supposed to be letting too many people through unless it's important," the man said, looking at the still-growing line of cars. "What's your business?"

"We work there," Min-jun said, as earnestly as he could, given the circumstances. "And we really don't all want to be late at the same time."

The officer looked like he wanted to say no, but also like he didn't want to waste the time it would take to have that conversation. He passed the IDs back. "Straight to the hotel and nowhere else. You drop them off and you go," he said to the driver. "No stops along the way, no detours. Are we clear?"

The driver nodded, mute and frightened. That was good enough for Min-jun. The window rolled up, and the car pulled away as law enforcement waved them through.

The driver heaved an audible sigh of relief, and Min-jun felt himself sink into the seat a little. He prayed that whatever In-kyung had in that bag would be helpful, because right now, it seemed to be the only chance they had to make it through this all alive.

In-hye heard the sound of the gunshots. She knew what was happening. It didn't matter how young she was—her youth had never done anything to shelter her from the truths of the world. And the same was true for Hyo-rin.

The gunshots seemed to trigger something in Hyo-rin. Her eyes went wide and her skin went pale, and she began to tremble. It was almost imperceptible at first, but In-hye could tell. She could feel the girl shaking beside her.

In-hye didn't think or hesitate. She just put her arms around Hyo-rin and pulled her close. "It's going to be okay," In-hye whispered. "Do-il is going to save us. He always does."

Hyo-rin looked like she wanted to speak, but she couldn't force the words out. She was terrified.

It was like before, at Park Jae-sang's mansion. It was everything In-hye feared—not because it would affect her directly, but because she couldn't fix it for Hyo-rin. She could only be there for her.

The sound faded into an echo, and was soon replaced by silence. The only thing they could do then was wait. The room was safely locked, the furniture rearranged. It had become as much of a fortress as they could manage, which ultimately, wasn't much. Things could have gone differently. Maybe they should have stayed in Korea. It was too hard to say what had been the right call at this point.

"I'm right here," said In-hye. "I'm here with you. No matter what."

There was more she could say, but she didn't see the point. Those few short sentences were enough to convey everything that was on her mind. The only thing left to do was to wait.

They didn't need to wait long. It was only a few minutes of pained silence before they could hear the sound of running in the hallway, followed by the door hastily opening, revealing Ward and Do-il. Do-il slammed the door behind them and locked it, then grabbed a table, and with the help of Ward, blocked the entrance.

"What's happening?" In-joo asked, her voice making her fear clear.

"It's started," said Do-il.

"Where is In-kyung?" In-hye asked, though she already knew the answer.

Do-il shook his head, but he didn't say anything.

"What are we going to do?" Hyo-rin managed to ask. "W-what's going to happen?"

Do-il hesitated. It was for only a fraction of a second, but In-hye saw it. And that was when she knew. He didn't believe that they had a chance. He was doing his best to hide it from everyone, but she knew.

"We're going to hold out until In-kyung is here," he said. "Ward is going to take an overwatch position. I'm going to keep us safe on this floor. Hang in there just a little longer." He offered Hyo-rin a smile.

In-hye squeezed Hyo-rin's hand.

Please believe him, she thought. Just this once. I don't want you to be afraid.

Chapter 47

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In-kyung felt her heart sink as they entered the hotel lobby. They had made it to the building and they had made it through the maintenance tunnel. And perhaps most surprising of all, she had been feeling hopeful. Things had been going well. Maybe a little too well.

Once they made it up the cramped stairwell from the maintenance tunnel, she understood why.

Because sitting in the lobby, her legs crossed and a wicked expression on her face, was Go Soo-im.

In-kyung's mouth went dry. She had no idea what to say. There wasn't anything to say, because this was how she was going to die. There was no running, there was nowhere to go. There was no way to fight. She would fight anyway. Maybe they would even manage to take out a few of the uniformed and masked officers that were standing around, no doubt on Jeongran's payroll.

But winning? That was an impossibility.

"Did you really think that I didn't know you were coming back?" Soo-im asked. "Jeongran has eyes everywhere. You got off that plane only because I allowed it."

In-kyung opened and closed her mouth.

"It's over," said Soo-im. "Your sisters and your friends have nowhere to go. Don't make this any harder than it has to be."

"Why are you doing this?" In-kyung asked. She was so furious that she was nearly in tears. But she would not allow herself to cry. She would not let this monstrous excuse of a human being see her tears.

"Because you and your sisters took everything from me," said Soo-im. "And now I'm going to take everything from you."

Min-jun shook his head. "You won't get away with this. You can't just do whatever you want. I don't care what Jeongran owns; there are limits."

Soo-im laughed, but it was cold and joyless. "Really? Tell him, In-kyung. Tell him what I can get away with. Remind him what Jeongran did in Korea."

In-kyung's voice was hollow and hopeless. "She's right. The media will never report this."

"The hotel staff won't keep quiet," Min-jun protested. "You can't buy this many people's silence."

In-kyung's voice was robotic. "They'll just threaten the people that they can't buy. I've seen it all before. I was part of it before. It's over, Min-jun."

Jong-ho stepped up next to Min-jun. Somehow, he didn't look afraid. "You don't scare us. We've seen how bad it can get. We've seen what people are capable of. And you're just an imitation of it."

Soo-im sneered. "Do you think I care if you're afraid or not? The only thing I want is your deaths. It makes no difference to me what you feel."

In-kyung thought of the bag with the documents, the ones that were half-decoded. Had they gone all the way to speak to Ward's father for nothing? All of their efforts... had they really just amounted to this? They were mice in a trap. And they hadn't even seen the trap until it was too late—until the metal bar had swung down and crushed them into oblivion.

But that wasn't true, was it? Because they weren't crushed yet. They were still breathing, even if they only had a little time left.

"So let me see my sisters then," said In-kyung, in a voice that she hoped sounded defeated. "If you don't care what I feel, then at least let me go upstairs to say goodbye to them. You're right. They don't have anywhere to go. And there isn't anything to do. So what difference does it make if you let me talk to them?"

Soo-im regarded the three of them silently. In-kyung's heart was hammering in her chest. This was their last chance. If Soo-im decided to kill them all now, then that would be it.

Everything depended on the whims of a woman whose humanity had long ago faded away.

"Why should I let you do that?" Soo-im asked. "Why should I give you anything, when you've taken it all from me?"

In-kyung bit her tongue, letting the cutting remark die away before it was able to escape her mouth. "Because they don't know that you're here, do they? They don't know just bad the situation is. You get to give them despair. And I get to say goodbye."

Min-jun was looking at her sideways, and she could tell that he had no idea what she was planning. Truthfully, she didn't know what she was planning either, but she had to at least try.

Soo-im stared at her and said nothing. In-kyung felt herself holding her breath.

Finally, Soo-im spoke. "Go. Tell them what's coming. Let them know that if they try to leave, they will be killed. You have nowhere to run. And I want them to know that I'm going to be the one to kill them."

In-kyung released her breath as slowly and steadily as she could manage. Her legs were shaking almost uncontrollably, but she did her best to hide it. She wanted to say something, but nothing came to mind.

Instead, she just walked forward unsteadily, only managing to stay upright with Jong-ho's help. They crossed the lobby of the hotel, their footsteps silent on the thick carpet. In-kyung was keenly aware of all the armed men and women standing around them, and she felt certain one of them would open fire at any moment.

She didn't turn around to look at Soo-im, though she wanted to. Instead, she simply made her way to the stairs, and didn't say a word until the door shut behind them and they were once again alone.

"What are you doing?" asked Min-jun. "What are you thinking?"

In-kyung shook her head. "There isn't time. I'll show you once we're with everyone else. But I bought us minutes at most. And this is going to take longer than minutes."

What she didn't mention was that she didn't even know if the documents she held would be helpful. They might be nothing. They might just be the ramblings of Ward's dead grandfather. If that was the case, then it really would be time to say goodbye to her sisters.

She tried to push that thought out of her mind. She couldn't think like that. There had to be a way out. There had to be.

In-joo burst into tears at the sight of her sister. She didn't even take a second to consider what it might mean, she just started crying. She couldn't control it. In the next moment, she felt In-kyung's arms around her, and she could tell that In-kyung was crying as well.

A few moments passed like that, without either of them saying anything. It was enough to just celebrate the fact they were alive and that they were together again.

When they did pull apart, In-joo started to understand the implications of In-kyung being here. They couldn't have made their way up without being noticed. Which left only the question—

"How did you get here?" In-joo asked. "What happened?"

In-kyung took a deep breath. "Soo-im is here. She saw us enter. She knew we were coming back. She... she knows everything."

In-joo blinked. Her mouth opened. She said nothing. She felt... nothing.

Do-il stepped forward. "And she let you pass?"

"She wanted me to tell you that she's going to kill all of us, and that there's nowhere for us to go. And... I think she's right." In-kyung sounded like she was on the verge of hysterics. "What are we going to do?"

Do-il said nothing. It was, surprisingly, In-hye who spoke. "Where did you go? What are you holding?"

In-kyung looked down at the bag in her hand as if she was seeing it for the first time. "I..." She looked up at Ward, who hadn't spoken since In-kyung had walked in. He hadn't left yet to take the overwatch position, and In-joo knew that he was impatient to get to his post.

Although it seemed like there was no longer any need to rush, anyway.

"I went to see your father," she said in a subdued voice to Ward.

In-joo felt her eyes widen. She watched as Ward involuntarily jerked in surprise.

"You did what?" he asked. He didn't sound angry. Just shocked beyond belief.

"I had to. I had something... something that I needed him to look at. In Korea, I had spoken to someone that used to work with him. And he had given me a number of coded documents. Your father... he decoded them, but he could only work halfway. He said it was a cipher that..."

Ward's voice was practically a whisper. He nearly sounded like a different person. "A cipher that requires two people to decode."

"I don't know if it's anything important. It might be nothing at all. But it's the only thing we have left."

Ward shook his head, and he suddenly looked much older. "It won't be anything. That code was a joke. A family secret. We used to use it to... write notes to each other. None of it mattered. My grandfather wouldn't have written anything of value in it."

Truthfully, In-joo was surprised that Ward's reaction hadn't been more violent. In-kyung looked unwilling to let the point go, despite what Ward had said.

"Please," said In-kyung. "Just try. This is all we have left."

Ward shook his head in disbelief. "This is our best hope? A note that my grandfather wrote after he disgraced my entire family? You know what, sure. Why not? What difference does it make now, anyway? Give me the documents and give me some time."

"We don't have time," said In-joo. Her lips felt numb. "Do we?"

In-kyung shook her head wordlessly.

"Then you'll have to buy me time," said Ward, "if you want this decoded. I can only work so fast."

In-joo wished she knew what to say. She wished there was something for them to do. But she knew that their time was up, and there was nothing left. She wanted to grab Do-il, pull him close, and remind him how much she loved him.

There just wasn't enough time. There was never enough time. In the end, that was what it came down to.

"For what it's worth," Ward said, as In-kyung handed him the bag. "I want you all to know just how damn tough you are. If I had known that this was how things would end up..."

In-joo tried to offer him a smile. It came off as a painful grin. "You would have done it all anyway, don't lie."

Ward shrugged. "Maybe you're right." He didn't say anything else after that. He just walked into one of the side rooms of the suite and sat down, the door still open, before unzipping the bag and removing its contents.

The Oh sisters, Hyo-rin, Jong-ho, Min-jun, and Do-il all just stood there, no one seeming to know what to say. In-joo supposed that at this point, there wasn't much left to say. What words could encapsulate what she was feeling? Everything they had gone through, for it to end like this. At least Soo-im had let In-kyung come up to say goodbye. At least they had that much.

She found herself speaking anyway. When she started, she hadn't even been aware that she was going to say anything. The words just started to come out.

"I know what it looks like. I know... what it feels like, because I feel it too. And I know there isn't much I can do to make it better now. I just wanted to tell you all that... well, that I'm just glad you're here with me. Whatever happens next. I spent a long time feeling so, so alone. First, when I had nothing. And then when I had what I had wanted. I was still alone, it was just a different kind of loneliness. I don't feel that way anymore, and I haven't since you all came back into my life."

She took an unsteady breath and fought back tears. Do-il reached out and gave her arm a squeeze.

"I've made a lot of mistakes. I've gotten a lot wrong. But I know that what we did was the right thing. We did the best we could, and we did it because it was what needed to be done. I'm sorry it ended this way. I'm sorry this was how things turned out. I didn't want for anyone to get hurt. I just... wanted to do a little more good."

Do-il spoke, and his words were quiet but strong. "It hasn't ended yet."

She looked at him in surprise. "What?"

"It isn't over. It isn't over until we're all gone. And right now, we're all still right here."

Those were words that she wouldn't have expected to hear from him. It wasn't the way he talked. It wasn't even the way he looked at most situations. Yet she could hear just how genuine he was.

Do-il turned his gaze to the others in the room, who were all standing and listening in silence. "I don't know what In-kyung has. And I don't know what's going to happen next. But I have learned that lack of knowledge shouldn't mean lack of action. Sometimes, you just have to do something. I choose to believe that Ward's coded message will mean something. And I refuse to stop fighting until I no longer have a choice."

He took In-joo's hand and continued speaking. "I don't know how much time we have left. It might not be much. It might not even be enough. But if I need to go out there on my own to make sure that he has time to finish reading what's on those papers, then that's what I'll do." He smiled at In-joo. "I know. That doesn't sound like something I would do. But that's who I am now. Maybe that's who I've always been. Maybe I'm just finally starting to realize it."

Min-jun straightened up. "If it comes to that, you won't be alone. I'll be there with you."

In-joo opened her mouth to speak, but Do-il seemed to predict what she was going to say. "No. You'll wait here with your sisters. If it comes to that."

In-joo tried to speak again, frustrated with his immediate response, but once again, he stopped her.

"No. You're not leaving your family alone."

"You can't tell me what to do!" she protested.

Do-il looked at her for a moment without speaking, and then sighed. "We should probably have a conversation."

In-joo noticed that the other occupants of the room were looking around uncomfortably, trying very hard to not make eye contact with either her or Do-il.

"Maybe we should," she relented.

Do-il closed the door behind him. In-joo was looking at him with the kind of fire in her eyes that let him know she was about to tell him, in no uncertain terms, exactly how she felt.

"I don't care how tough you think you are," In-joo said, as soon as he removed his hand from the doorknob. "You don't get to order me around. If I want to go out there with you—"

"In-joo, please."

"Don't 'In-joo, please' me!"

Do-il shook his head. "You're right."

In-joo froze. "I'm what?"

"You're right. I can't tell you what to do. I never could. You wouldn't listen to me anyway. You'd just do what you thought was best, and you'd do it in that quiet way of yours."

She seemed to have no idea how to react to that. Do-il crossed the room so that he was standing with her, in front of the large window in the middle of the wall. The curtains were pulled back, and sunlight was the only light filling the room.

"So then what are you doing?" In-joo asked, her voice softer now.

"The best I can," he said. "I know it seems like I always know what I'm doing. That's the image I've needed to project to the world for a very long time. And sometimes, it's not a lie. Sometimes, it is."

"What is it right now?" In-joo asked.

"I don't know," Do-il said. "There's really only one thing I'm sure of at this point.

In-joo was looking up at him with wide eyes. She knew what he was going to say. He could tell. But that wasn't the point. It wasn't about knowing. It was about hearing.

She didn't have to ask. He simply told her.

"You," he said. "It's always been you. Even when I was trying to convince myself otherwise, you're the one thing that I've been sure about. And I'm sure that losing you is something—"

"Do-il, we're all going to die. If I die next to you, or if I die hiding in this room, it isn't going to matter."

"It'll matter to me. It'll mean that I gave you a little more time. It'll mean you got to be with your sisters for that much longer."

He couldn't consider the possibility of In-joo's death. It was too much, even for him.

"You don't know what you're asking me," she whispered. "I don't want you to be alone. Not anymore."

Do-il smiled. "I'm not alone. Like you said, I haven't been alone in a long time. You've made sure of that."

That was when Do-il leaned in to kiss her. They didn't have much time left together. Neither of them knew how much, but that wasn't the point. There were so many months of separation that they needed to make up for, and it now seemed like they would never have that chance. Do-il pulled her close, as close as he could, and allowed himself to be lost in the moment, to stop thinking, to stop planning—and to simply be.

It was the greatest gift she could ever give him. The gift of peace. The gift of the present. The gift of existence, along with the ability to finally understand what real happiness was.

Notes:

I've been receiving a lot of comments asking if everyone will survive. All I can say is that the ending is fully planned out and almost here. I don't want to spoil anything, and I don't want to set any expectations. I appreciate all the time you've spent reading this, and I promise you that no matter what happens in the end, it will be worth it.

Thank you for reading. You make all the hard work feel easy.

Chapter 48

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

They all waited in silence. In-hye did her best to bring comfort to Hyo-rin, but it was difficult with how much anxiety In-hye herself felt. In-kyung and Jong-ho were sitting next to each other, holding each other and hardly moving. In-joo and Do-il had retreated to one of the side rooms, no doubt to have a heated discussion about the best location for In-joo to be if it came down to a final fight.

And Ward was working diligently on the coded message, whatever it might read.

It seemed like such a waste. Finally, In-hye understood something about herself and about Hyo-rin, about the future of their relationship and about the nature of the feelings that she had been dealing with for months. Now, it was about to all be ripped away from her, for what would be the last time. It wasn't her fault that Soo-im was so obsessed. Why should they all be punished for this woman's madness?

Maybe there would be a way for Hyo-rin to get out. Min-jun had apparently plotted the shortest possible escape route that would take them to a neighboring building where they could blend in and utilize public transport to get to safety.

It was a long shot... but it was better than no chance at all.

She couldn't bring herself to say those things to Hyo-rin though. She was having a difficult time internalizing things that she knew to be true. It wasn't like her. In-hye had always been practical, maybe to a fault. Now, faced with the end of it all, that aspect of her personality seemed to be gone.

In-hye kept sneaking glances into the room where Ward was sitting. She could just barely make him out, but he appeared to be focused and hard at work, switching back and forth between the papers that In-kyung had given him and a blank sheet of paper that he was scribbling notes on.

Their last hope had fallen on the shoulders of the same man who had started everything. It was unthinkable.

"Where are we going to go?" Hyo-rin asked. "When this is all over? Where do you want to go?"

'We can go anywhere," In-hye said gently. "As long as we're together."

"I don't think I want to be in America anymore," said Hyo-rin. "I think I want to go somewhere quiet and empty. Just us and a view. And then we can create something wonderful."

"You've already done that," said In-hye.

Hyo-rin smiled. She seemed to understand. "I know. But I'd like to do it again."

In-hye thought about the works she had started before they had needed to pack and prepare to flee. They weren't finished. In fact, they were only in the very earliest stages. But when she completed them, she knew that they were going to be her masterpieces. More important to her than anything else she had made before. It was hard to articulate exactly why she felt that way, but when she pictured the canvases with their half-formed images, she knew without any doubt that it was true.

In-hye found herself thinking more and more about her ties to Hyo-rin and the people around her. Before, it was something she hadn't considered much. In fact, she had once very nearly thrown her sisters to the side, abandoning them entirely. Now, it was all too clear just how important they all were to her.

She knew that no matter where she went, she would face challenges with Hyo-rin. Their ages, for one. And the fact that there were still too many people in the world who refused to accept anyone who didn't conform to their own narrow view.

But conforming wasn't the point anymore. She had tried that once. And it had failed.

It was more important for her to forge her own path.

"Let's buy a little place," said In-hye. "It doesn't have to be anything out of the ordinary. The building isn't what matters. It's what surrounds it that I care about. And we can live there when we're not traveling, and it can be our own, and no one else needs to know about it."

Hyo-rin smiled dreamily. "I think that sounds wonderful."

"It will be. But you need to promise me something first," said In-hye.

Hyo-rin looked at her with wide, trusting eyes. "What?"

"When things start happening... promise that you'll listen to me. No matter what I tell you."

Hyo-rin frowned. "I don't understand."

"I know. But you will later. And it might be difficult, but I need you to do it."

Hyo-rin was still clearly confused. "But—"

"Hyo-rin. Promise me."

Hyo-rin swallowed. "I promise."

"Thank you," said In-hye. It was enough to hear those words. Hyo-rin wouldn't break a promise to her, the same way In-hye wouldn't break one that she made to Hyo-rin.

Even if it broke her heart.

There was a lot that In-kyung had already said to Jong-ho. Unlike Do-il and In-joo, the two of them had been able to share a year together in happiness and peace. They both already knew the depths of their feelings. They knew what their future would be like.

If they had the opportunity to reach it.

Now, In-kyung was content to just sit there with him, listening to the sound of him breathing. She was still fighting panic, but Jong-ho made it easier. He always had. At the very least, she could rest easy with the knowledge that they had done the best they could. She had followed her conscience, and she hadn't backed down just because it was difficult.

"Life would be so much easier if I wasn't so principled," In-kyung sighed dramatically.

Jong-ho chuckled. "That's true. But then, you wouldn't be you anymore. And I think that would be a shame."

In-kyung smiled. "I'm glad you think that way. That's easy for you to say. You don't have to live with my mind."

"Technically, I've been living with your mind for about a year now," Jong-ho reminded her in a humorous tone.

"And it's been the greatest year of your life," In-kyung joked. On the outside, she was smiling. On the inside, she was trying to stave off the fear that was trying to overpower her.

Jong-ho sighed. "Yeah. It really has been, hasn't it?"

In-kyung had only been saying it to lighten the tone, but she realized that the words had been true. Her life had been full of struggles. Trials that would have defeated most other humans. She had never allowed herself to be cowed by them. And the year of peace that she had spent with Jong-ho had been her reward.

It just hadn't felt like enough.

"I'm scared," she said in a small voice, so quietly that she was sure that In-hye and Hyo-rin wouldn't be able to hear her. "What's going to happen?"

"I don't know," said Jong-ho. "I'm scared too. But I'm with you. And I trust all of us. Maybe it will work. Maybe it won't. Either way, we can say we did it without regrets."

"I don't care if I have regrets right now," said In-kyung. "I just want more time with you. With my sisters."

Jong-ho looked like he knew exactly what she meant. "We're always going to want more time. I don't think anything will ever change that. But what makes our time matter is the fact that—"

"I don't care what makes it matter," In-kyung said. She wasn't angry with Jong-ho. She didn't even sound angry. She didn't feel angry. She wasn't sure if there was a word for what she felt at all.

"We did everything we could," said Jong-ho. "And it was because of you. It's always been because of you."

"I love you, Jong-ho," said In-kyung. "And I'm not ready to say goodbye yet."

"We don't have to," Jong-ho replied. "Some things just don't have to be said. But I'll never get tired of telling you that I love you. You're my dream come true. And I'm glad I got to live it, even if it wasn't for long enough."

In-kyung ran out of words then. She just let Jong-ho hold her in his arms, and together, they silently cried.

Ward stared at the page and realized that as each minute ticked by, so did the chances of their deaths. But the more he worked, the more he couldn't believe what he was reading. It was unfinished of course, and it was going to take him what might be more time than they currently had.

But as he got further into it, he started to wonder if he even wanted to complete the code.

What was he reading? Even half-finished, the picture it painted seemed impossible, to the point that eventually, he stopped trying to consider the ramifications and just fell back into the pattern of completing the cipher, something he had not done in many, many years. Part of him was surprised that he even remembered it. After all, both his father and his grandfather existed as points of shame in his life.

So this is how it all ends. With me relieving moments from a childhood that hasn't meant anything to me in years.

It would be funny if it was so frustrating.

He had always thought he would go out fighting, not with his head buried in a pile of papers. But lately, nothing seemed to be going the way he had expected. All of his plans, countered without a chance to do anything about it. Why should this be any different?

Out in the main suite, he could hear the sound of voices. They were talking to each other again, perhaps trying to comfort each other, perhaps trying to maintain the hope that somehow, things would turn out alright. He wondered what that was like. The closest he had gotten to that was with his team members, and now, they were dead. That meant he had no one.

His father was still alive, but that bridge had been burned a long time ago. There wasn't anything left to repair.

Maybe that was alright. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe if things did end here, at least that would mean he could finally... just stop.

But as more words began to unveil themselves on the page before him, he was beginning to think that there was a chance that things didn't have to go that way. It was a frightening thing, hope. And this was going to raise a whole new set of questions but—

Ward stopped writing for a second and stared at the papers.

What was he going to do?

How was he ever going to explain this?

Do-il and In-joo emerged from the side room. Do-il's heart was heavy, but at this point, there was no other option. Their time was running short, and he knew that Soo-im and her men could come crashing through the door at any moment.

He needed to buy more time.

"How much longer do you need?" Do-il asked Ward, without entering the room that Ward was working in. The door was open, and the CIA agent would be able to hear him perfectly fine.

"I don't know," said Ward. "It's getting... more complicated. At first it was just text. Now it's numbers and figures."

Do-il sighed. "Too much longer, then. I understand." He looked to Min-jun. "I can't expect you to do this. You've already done more than enough."

Min-jun was already standing from the small table that he was sitting at. He had been in silence, seemingly lost in thought. "You don't have to ask. This is the right thing to do."

Do-il turned to the rest of the group. "Do you all know what to do? Do you know all know the escape route? If it comes down to it, you'll all have to run. There are two vehicles in the underground level of the parking garage, they both belong to the hotel. The manager gave me the keys to them." He fished them out of his pocket and tossed them on the coffee table in front of the couch where In-kyung and Jong-ho were seated. "Take those vehicles, get to an airport, and get out of the country.

"No!" said In-joo suddenly. "I don't care if it's stupid! I don't care if it doesn't make sense, I'm not leaving!"

Do-il turned to look at her, but he didn't say anything. Because he knew that if he was in her position, he would be saying the same thing.

"I'm not going to run away, just so I can be alive for a little longer. Where can we even go? It doesn't matter anymore, does it? Either Soo-im dies, or we do, and we don't have a way to make that happen. So I'm staying. And if that means that I die, then fine. But I'm not walking away from you. There's no reason anymore."

Do-il wanted to tell her she was being ridiculous, but there was another part of him—a part of him that he didn't want to acknowledge—that took comfort in the idea that she would be there at the end of it all.

And so, after all the arguing, all the planning, all the discussion—Do-il said nothing. He just accepted her choice. They would be together.

"It... might not have to be like that."

Everyone turned to look at Ward. He hadn't looked up from the desk, and he was still writing, but he was speaking at the same time. "There might be a way out. But I need more time. There's too much here to make sense of. In-kyung... I think you found something important."

Do-il froze. It took a lot to surprise him. It took even more for him to show his surprise. But there was no helping this. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know yet. I just... I don't know yet." There was something in Ward's voice. A hesitation, a shakiness, that Do-il had never heard before. What had the man read? What was he writing? "Buy me time. Stay alive. There might be a way out."

Do-il paused. It was only for a second, but it was enough for a hurricane of thoughts to tear through his brain. He would go out there with Min-jun. They would lead Jeongran's men on a chase throughout the hotel, and then they would rendezvous and escape. If Ward was telling the truth—and he had no reason to lie—then maybe it was possible.

And if there was a chance, they had to take it.

Min-jun seemed to already understand. He was moving with the practiced speed of someone who was used to taking orders and acting with little time for thought.

Now, Do-il just needed to make sure that In-joo understood.

"I'm going out there," he said to her, quietly. "I'm going with Min-jun. Just to get Ward more time. You're going to follow behind me when he has what he needs."

"But—"

It pained him to do it, but Do-il kept his voice firm. He hated seeing the desperation and fear in her eyes, even though he felt the same way. He wanted to take her from here, fly her somewhere so that they could be alone, somewhere that this madness couldn't reach them.

Soon.

"This isn't a goodbye. I'll see you soon. But I have to go, and I have to do it now. We'll lead them around the hotel, and then we'll meet with you where we planned."

"But—"

"In-joo, I love you. I love you more than I think I've ever loved anyone. And this is the only way we have any chance of success now. If we stay together, if we make a last stand, then none of it matters. We'll die. This way..."

"This way we might make it," In-joo whispered.

"I love you," said Do-il. "And I'll see you again soon. Stay with Ward. Keep your sisters safe."

"I love you too," said In-joo, and this time there were no tears. Her voice was steady and strong. "Hurry."

"I will."

There was the promise of the future in those words. And for a moment, Do-il didn't just think it was possible—he knew they were going to be able to do it. The moment didn't last long, but it was enough.

And then, he was gone.

That was both how it started, and how it ended. It happened fast, almost anti-climatically. But once Do-il and Min-jun had stepped into the hallway, there was nothing left to do other than to wait for Ward to finish his work. And silence returned to claim the entirety of the hotel suite.

They were all dreading the sounds of violence that were sure to come shortly. In-joo hoped that Do-il wouldn't need to kill anyone. Not even Soo-im. She knew that it was a naive hope, but it was one that was still on her mind anyway.

In-joo stood there and looked out the window, down at the city of Los Angeles below them. So many people, all of them unaware as to what was unfolding inside of one hotel. Unaware of the beauty and depth of the love possessed by the occupants of the room. Of the strength of their relationships. Of everything that they had gone through to get to this point.

Would anyone ever know?

The first gunshot came only a few minutes later. It was followed by a burst of shots, clearly fired from a different gun. In-joo didn't turn away from the window, she just continued to stare and let her eyes glaze over. It was funny. Once, she wouldn't have been able to differentiate between gunfire at all. Now, she was all too used to it.

This is the last time. One way or the other, this is the last time.

"He's going to be okay," said In-kyung.

There was another gunshot. In-joo's breath caught in her throat.

You have to survive.

You have to.

Because I don't know if I'll be able to without you.

Notes:

And so it begins.

Thank you for reading and commenting.

Chapter 49

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Do-il ran. He ran with more purpose and focus than he could remember ever running before, all because he needed to make sure he did everything perfectly.

He couldn't go too fast. He couldn't get too far ahead. He couldn't let himself end up in a corner, with nowhere to go. Every factor needed to be taken into account, and he needed to make his pursuers think that he had a goal other than wasting their time.

It was far from a perfect plan. He had no real timeline. He could only hold out for as long as possible, and then he would need a destination—and his destination would have to be their escape route. There would be no safety found anywhere else in the hotel. If all went well, then it was possible that Ward would finish decrypting the message before Do-il ran out of ground. That would mean they would have a chance of changing everything before Do-il took a bullet.

Alternatively, it meant that he would know there was no longer any hope of survival, because it was still possible that the message meant nothing

If that didn't work, but Do-il timed it properly, then he could meet them at the rendezvous point anyway. All he would need to do was find a way to somehow lose the highly trained operatives who were now chasing him throughout the hotel, presumably trying to capture him so that Soo-im could kill him.

Part of him was surprised that she wasn't coming after him herself. But he could guess why. She didn't want to leave anything to chance anymore. Overwhelming force was the best way for her to win. Her men could just bring Do-il to her, and she could kill him herself.

So Do-il ran, as far and as fast as he could, making sure to never quite lose sight of his pursuit, and praying that Min-jun would be able to pull off the same thing.

They had discussed their plan shortly before they had taken off, naming floors, locations, and specific spots throughout the building that they could try and meet at. If they missed the first, they would try for the second, and so on.

It was still a long shot.

But now, at least, he had hope.

Do-il burst onto a stairwell as a bullet slammed into the door frame next to him. They were getting angrier, which meant they were getting sloppier. Normally, that would have been a good thing, but when they were trying to keep him alive, sloppy meant that they were more likely to kill him.

Unfortunately, as he entered the stairwell, it became apparent that there had been another team that had known where Do-il was going. Because they were already on the stairs, coming up toward him.

"Fine," Do-il muttered. They couldn't hear him, but that wasn't the point. "It had to happen eventually."

He didn't stop moving. He just kept going, without slowing down, without carrying about the heavily outfitted and armed men who were heading right for him. Because those men, they were just fighting for money. Do-il had long since moved past the concept of money as a motivator. He was fighting for something more important than that.

He could still hear In-joo's voice in the air.

The door crashed open behind him, but he didn't even bother looking. What difference did it make if he was surrounded on both sides? They wouldn't be able to fire their guns. They wouldn't be able to—

Do-il ducked under the first man's arm and slammed hard into the second, almost tackling him down the stairs, only barely managing to stay on his feet. This was when he was at his most dangerous. It wasn't about strength. It wasn't about raw power. It was about sheer determination and skill.

And those were two things that he possessed more of than almost any other human being he had ever met.

Do-il tossed the man he had tackled down the stairs, sending him sliding into another one of the helmeted men. There was shouting, and the clamoring of the remaining aggressors as they tried to stay standing and do something to slow Do-il down.

At no point did he stop moving forward. He was moving at a run, but the world around him felt like it had slowed to a crawl. He could see everything, every move they made, every weapon and detail of their uniforms.

He knew where he needed to go—the path made itself visible to him before he had even made his way down two more steps.

After that, it was just a matter of properly executing it.

He weaved around them, dancing out of reach, only extending a hand to strike if he had no other choice. Each blow was for a specific purpose—to disarm or disorient, to create enough room for him to keep moving without needing to slow down.

"He's just one man! Someone stop him!"

And that was true, he was just one man. But he was one man who was now more motivated than he had ever been in his life. One man who was not going to let himself be stopped by something as meaningless as being outnumbered.

Do-il struck the last man hard enough to send them tipping backwards, end over end falling down the last few stairs and striking the wall with an audible thump.

And he kept moving.

One of them fired, and a chunk of concrete exploded from the wall next to him, striking his face and opening a small cut. He felt the sting and the warmth of the blood, but only as abstract concepts. He wasn't slowed or bothered by it. It was nothing. It was less than nothing. It was happening to him on a purely physical level, but the only things of consequence on that level were things that might be able to hold him back from his goal.

And if those existed, he had yet to discover what they were.

The door to the next floor had either been locked or blocked on the other side, but one powerful kick was enough to shatter the door straight off the frame. He slowed, but only for a fraction of a second so that he could smoothly step through the now open doorway. Ideally, he would see—

But no. Min-jun wasn't here, and didn't appear to be coming from the other direction. Which meant he had been slowed, caught, or forced to reroute. Do-il revised his plan immediately. He had to keep going. There were plenty of other floors—not all of which had been cleared—but if that was what it took to keep moving, then so be it. Let them think that they were all escaping. If it came down to it, Ward would protect the Ohs. Do-il would take care of himself.

They were still following him. He had to keep moving. If he slowed down, he would give them enough time to come up behind him and get close enough to fire a shot that wouldn't kill him, but would prevent him from getting any further.

He couldn't win. He didn't have to win.

He just had to survive.

He dodged around the nearest corner, and as he did so, he nearly collided with Isaac Chambers, who had apparently been coming from the opposite direction. Do-il was forced to dive and roll, which stopped him from losing his footing, but completely killed any momentum that he had built up.

"Stop!" Chambers shouted. "Let's talk."

Do-il shook his head in disgust. "Talk? You want to talk? We've done that already, and look where that got us."

"You have to know that you—"

"What? That I can't win? You people are all the same. You only look at things from one angle. You never consider all the other ways that something might be accomplished. You think you know everything."

Chambers sighed. "How many more people have to die?"

Do-il didn't even bother faking a laugh. "You know that Soo-im won't cooperate until I'm dead."

"I already told you, you could be more valuable to us—"

"I'm not interested. And I won't ever be. That Do-il is gone, and he isn't coming back."

Chambers' mouth twisted into a violent grin. "That woman took your edge away. Turned you into a shadow of what you used to be. This is the great Choi Do-il? Running scared through a Los Angeles hotel?"

By now, Do-il's pursuers had caught up and were standing behind Chambers, clearly waiting for some sort of instruction on what to do next.

"Do I look scared?" Do-il asked. "Is that what you would call this?"

Truthfully, he was scared. But not for himself. His safety meant nothing compared to what he was trying to do. The stakes were higher than his own life.

"Be reasonable," said Chambers.

"I tried that," said Do-il. "And look where it got me."

And then he drew his gun and fired.

The shot was precisely aimed so that Chambers would have no hope of getting out of the way. It was aimed to incapacitate, not kill. He wanted to slow the man down and ensure that he would be one more obstacle in the pursuit. Everything now came down to time. That was the only thing that mattered.

Chambers let out a cry as he staggered back. Do-il didn't wait to see what happened next. He turned and took off, breaking into a full sprint and vanishing down the hallway before any of the men had a chance to react. He could hear Chambers attempting to give orders and remain calm, but the words were inaudible. What difference did it make now?

He needed to get to Min-jun. They needed to get to the extraction point.

Ward was finished. He hadn't told anyone that he was finished yet, but he could read the entire message.

And it felt like the earth was about to spin off its axis.

This changed everything, if it was true. He couldn't verify it on his own, but anyone with the proper resources would be able to. And once it was verified, it would be everything they needed to escape with their lives—maybe forever.

But it would also ensure that Ward's family name was never cleared. Everything that he had done, everything that he had sacrificed, would have all been for nothing.

The most insane part was the fact that he was considering revealing the information to the Oh sisters anyway.

Ward was acutely aware of the fact that every second he sat there and said nothing was another second that Do-il or Min-jun could die. Every second of inaction was another second for the Jeongran society to come bursting in through the door. There was no time to waste.

But he couldn't bring himself to tear town his entire world. Not just yet.

How could they blame him? They couldn't. He had already risked so much just to be here. He had tossed away his mission and he had allowed them to lie to his face. They could grant him this—just a few more minutes before he turned everything on its head.

How could this be true?

Everything he had understood was wrong.

And suddenly, he knew why his grandfather had chosen such an unthinkable option. Ward could see how every decision had led to the collapse of his family. It all made sense now, in a cruel, painful way.

The documents were lengthy and detailed, which explained why it had taken him so long to go through them. Even with the work his father had done, there had still been much more to accomplish. Now that he was finished, he was realizing that it had been a miracle for him to even make it through the whole thing.

It wasn't just a letter. It was a detailed list of information, dates, and names, as well as a handful of logistics reports. The only reason why Ward had been able to work through it so quickly was because his father had already done half the work. Had he been starting from scratch, it would have taken much longer, and then he still would have needed one other person to finish the cipher—and as far as Ward was aware, the only living person who would even be capable of that was his father.

It answered the question that they had all been asking themselves since they had come to Los Angeles. Where had the American Jeongran society come from? How had it even sprung into existence, when the original organization had been the work of the abandoned unit?

The answer was simple, and in retrospect, it should have been obvious. Ward cursed himself for not seeing it in the first place. There had been a very limited amount of people who had even known about the operation, which meant there were even fewer who were capable of creating the organization in America.

And the trail was clear. The numbers didn't lie.

Thomas Ward, the man who had made the decision to sacrifice the Korean unit, the man who had made the misfortune of failing in that endeavor—the man who was Jack Ward's grandfather—he had been the same man who had begun to organize the Jeongran society in the United States.

Ward couldn't imagine why his grandfather had done that. And he doubted he would ever know. The documents he held did nothing to explain the reasoning, but they did paint a picture of a man who had been unsure as to what to do next.

Ward could see it unfolding in his mind. Thomas, confused and broken over his involvement in a morally repugnant operation that ended up failing anyway. Jeongran, reaching out to the very man who had tried to kill them, and offering their hand—and a chance for Thomas to redeem himself. He had failed them once. So what if he could undo some of the damage he had caused by helping them spread to the North American continent?

Judging by the dates and financial data that was presented, it had been a long, slow process. Ward had wondered for a few moments why his grandfather had given this data to anyone, let alone someone who wouldn't have been able to read it.

But the note at the end of it explained everything.

Jonathan,

I don't know if you'll ever read this. Maybe your own child will read it, but I doubt that too. It's hard to explain things in person, let alone through a letter. This probably won't do much to make up for all the years of regret, but now, it's the best I can do.

I didn't plan for any of this.

The General reached out to me, after it was all over. After I had been disgraced. So of course, at that point, there was no hope of saying anything to the agency. They would have never believed me. And he offered me a chance to make up for what I had done by helping him create a version of his organization here, in America. He told me that the United States, of all countries, needed the Jeongran society.

I didn't ask what he meant. But I think he was right.

This isn't trying to justify what I did. Because I see now that regardless of what the General's intentions were, it was never going to remain that way. I can't explain the reasons for my actions, and I don't know if I was ever even really aware of them.

But I can't take back what I've already done. I can only apologize for the damage I've caused. And I can only hope that one day, you find a way out.

Love, your father,

Thomas Ward

Ward read the note over and over, trying to make some sense of what had happened. He understood enough. But understanding wasn't everything.

Eventually, he stood up from the table that he had been working at. It felt like the weight of the world was resting upon his shoulders. He had to tell In-kyung. She would still have contacts that she could reach out to, people who would help them spread the story as fast as possible.

Once that happened, Jeongran's grip on the area would be forced to relax. They would be investigated by outside forces. And if there was anything tying them to the scandals in South Korea—and Ward knew there would be—then Jeongran would be done.

So then...

It was over, wasn't it?

Of course, it wasn't that simple. Just because they had this information didn't mean the threat would just vanish immediately. And Soo-im—well, she was outside the realm of what could be controlled through these files.

That wasn't all, either. There was the other voice in Ward's head that kept reminding him that once he shared this with the world, there would be no turning back. There would be no redemption for his family name. Everyone would forever know that the Ward family of the CIA had botched one of the most secretive operations of the Vietnam war and had then proceeded to work alongside the very people that the operation had failed to kill.

And that it had all led to the madness first in Korea, and then here.

America would not react kindly to the idea of their own Jeongran, operating on their own ground.

But he had to say something. If he didn't they would all die, wouldn't they? The Ohs, Do-il, Min-jun, Hyo-rin—even Ward would be killed eventually.

Unless...

What if he made a bargain? What if he took this information—which as far as he knew, was the only copy—and gave it to Isaac Chambers? Ward had no idea who Chambers really was, and he didn't care. The man was likely some high level executive or aspiring politician, who was just waiting for his chance to rise. But that didn't matter. What mattered was that he had the ability to take this information as payment, and save Ward's life.

Ward looked first at the documents. Then he turned his head, just a little, to look out into the main suite. He could see them all—the young girls, In-joo, In-kyung, and Jong-ho. They were silent. They were defenseless.

And Ward knew that he had to make a decision.

Notes:

Thank you for reading. The pieces are finally falling into place.

I'll see you all very soon.

Chapter 50

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Do-il tore around the corner and then came to a screeching halt. Because it appeared, at last, that he had finally run out of room. There was nowhere left for him to go, and on the other end of the empty and carpeted hall stood another team of heavily armed men, each with a gun pointed directly at him.

He couldn't fight his way past them. And he couldn't turn around and go back from where he had come. This was the end of the road.

He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. If nothing else, he had done well. He had bought more time than he had hoped to be able to do. While it was true that he had also hoped to be successful, he had been well aware of the fact that there was only so much that he was able to do.

"End of the line," one of the helmeted men on the opposite end of the hall said. "Nowhere left to run."

Do-il, unfortunately, had to agree with the man's assessment. There really was nowhere for him to go.

"You're not going to shoot me," said Do-il, projecting calm into every word. "Soo-im doesn't want it to be that easy."

"And I'm sure you don't want to be shot," the man countered. "So stop where you are."

Do-il did as they asked. It was true, he didn't want to be shot. As long as he was still breathing, hope remained. "So now what?" he asked. "We're just going to stand here?"

Both teams of men had not taken a step toward him since they had entered the hallway. Do-il was stuck squarely between them both, and no one seemed to be eager to make the first move.

"That's right. Not until Soo-im gets here."

Do-il felt a strange mix of fear and relief at that sentence. Soo-im's arrival would certainly spell trouble for him. But it did mean more time for everyone else. In that respect at least, he had succeeded.

He didn't bother trying to talk his way out of it. He knew through experience that the lower ranking members of the society—even those who were just on the payroll—were too afraid of their superiors to go against a direct order.

The only thing left to do now was wait.

He hadn't expected it to come down to one last dramatic fight. That hadn't been the way any of them had ever done things. He did hope, however, that Soo-im would let her guard down long enough for him to get one good blow in. Just one. Just to make her regret, on some level, what she had done.

He knew that was a hopeless wish. She was long past regret. He wondered if she felt anything at all. He wondered how close he had been to turning into someone like that. In-joo had given him a way out, and for that he would always be grateful to her.

Do-il closed his eyes and smiled. There was nothing for him to be afraid of any longer. There was nothing left that they could take from him. In-joo would find a way out.

It would all be worth it.

In-kyung stared at Ward. She wasn't sure what to say. She felt like she should be thanking him, or saying something, but nothing was coming to her mind.

Ward looked like he had been shattered on the most fundamental level. His voice was subdued in a way that In-kyung had never heard from him before. He looked smaller in stature. And he looked like he couldn't believe what he was saying.

She understood why. Because after she had looked at the fully decoded message, she knew that sharing this information with her meant the downfall of everything that he had been working for. His life's work was about to slip from his fingers.

It would have been easy for him to just say nothing, or to perhaps use the information as leverage to buy his own life. By offering it to In-kyung, he was giving her the ammunition necessary to save all of their lives—at the cost of throwing away his dream.

"Are you sure?" In-kyung asked, her hands shaking as she held the handwritten pages. "This is..."

"I'm sure," said Ward. "So do it now, before I change my mind."

In-kyung's mind was flipping through all the possible methods she could use to get this information into the hands of the public quickly. Ironically, she was pretty sure that her best bet was to reach out to some of her Korean contacts, because she could guarantee that Jeongran wouldn't have a grip on them anymore.

As for the United States, she could make a guess at which news outlets would be in their pocket, and Ward's documents would certainly help with that, but there wasn't time to find out for sure. She would just need to shotgun it out to anyone who might be able to help at all. It would gain traction with at least one of them.

And that was all they needed.

But she needed to do it as fast as possible, because every second they delayed was another second that Do-il and Min-jun were in danger.

"They'll know what you've done as soon as you do it," said Ward.

"It won't matter," In-kyung said as she pulled out her phone and took the papers to a table. She began to snap photos of each page, making sure that the words were legible. "At that point, it'll be too late."

She wanted to thank him, so that he would know that she could tell how much of a sacrifice this was for him. But she would do that later, when they were safe. When it was all over.

"What happens next?" In-joo asked.

That was less clear. After the news broke—after the public could see definitive, irrefutable evidence of Jeongran's foothold in America—Chambers and Soo-im would be forced to retreat. It didn't matter how much power they had or how much of the police force they controlled. They didn't own the entire country, and the widespread nature of social media would mean too much exposure for them to handle. They would be forced to go to ground, just to handle damage control. And even that wouldn't be enough, In-kyung knew. The American public would not react kindly to this. This was the kind of thing that happened in other places, not here.

Jong-ho was with her, the same way he always was. He watched her work, and she could practically feel the pride radiating off of him. "You did it," he said quietly.

"It was Ward," she said, not taking her eyes off the phone screen. "If he hadn't—"

"No. If you hadn't taken the chance and gone to see his father, it wouldn't have happened. If you wouldn't have risked your own safety, over and over, then it wouldn't have happened. That's what you do. You see the connections that other people can't."

In-kyung had finished typing up the message and had selected the long list of recipients that it would be going to. The pictures were attaching to the message as they spoke, and she watched the progress bar slide forward. "I just did my job," she said. And for a moment, she felt like she had when she had been a reporter, risking everything in the pursuit of the truth. She felt proud of what she had done, and the fear was gone, just for a little.

She pressed send. And she held her breath.

"It's done," she breathed, looking up. "Ward, thank you—"

"Don't," he said. He didn't sound angry or cold. He just sounded... tired. "Don't say it. I don't want to hear it."

That response somehow filled her with sadness. She knew that she should be feeling triumphant, but instead, she just felt... tired.

"That's it," said In-joo, and she looked like she could barely believe it. "It's over. The world knows again." Her eyes were still wide with nervousness. "Do-il..."

"We'll find him," said Jong-ho, and In-kyung reached out to take his hand. "We will."

In-hye and Hyo-rin had said nothing. They hadn't looked at the papers that Ward had handed over, but they seemed to understand the significance of the documents. In-hye was whispering something to Hyo-rin, who had closed her eyes and looked like she was trying to convince herself that it really was over.

"What do we do now?" Hyo-rin finally asked, loud enough for everyone to hear it.

"Nothing," said In-kyung, the realization finally starting to hit her. "There's nothing left to do. All we do now is wait."

If that was true, if they really were safe, then the only question that still remained was the fate of both Do-il and Min-jun. Had In-kyung's message been fast enough? Had the right people received it?

More importantly, if Jeongran cared enough to stop... would Soo-im?

In-kyung had a creeping feeling that Soo-im wouldn't care what the public knew. She was beyond thinking about consequences now. Something like that wouldn't get in the way of her revenge.

It wouldn't take long for them to find out, she knew.

"Stand down."

Do-il opened his eye and blinked. He had been standing there in silence for what had felt like an eternity, though it couldn't have been more than a few minutes. He had been waiting, knowing that soon, Soo-im would be arriving. Soon, it would all be ending.

But the voice he heard wasn't Soo-im. It wasn't a woman at all. It was the heavily modulated voice of a man speaking through a combat helmet.

The other armed men looked around, their body language clearly indicating that they were just as confused as Do-il was. What could possibly cause them to withdraw like this, when they had him dead to rights?

"Clear out," the man said again, lowering his weapon, but clearly not trusting Do-il to holster it all the way. His next words were directed at Do-il. "No sudden movements."

"What do you want me to do?" Do-il asked. "I don't want this to end with a bullet in my head."

"Just keep moving," said the man. "Go back to where you came from."

Do-il wasn't sure what to say. He had no idea why they would just be letting him go. What was the point of capturing him, then letting him walk away? It hadn't quite struck him yet, but this could very easily mean that he would... live. That they all would.

He took two slow steps backward, wondering if it was a trap. But no one else moved. No one else said anything or reached for their weapons. So Do-il turned and started to walk, his mind racing.

Had the same thing happened to Min-jun? Were they both going to be allowed to just... leave? Had In-joo done something? Had In-kyung...?

It struck him suddenly. Whatever Ward had been decoding... he must have finished. And it must have had more of an impact than any of them had expected. If that was the case, then it was far more than Do-il had even hoped for.

The armed men stepped to the side to let him pass. Do-il could tell by seeing them up close that they were members of a SWAT unit, further proof that Jeongran had managed to infiltrate practically every level of society, once again. He was also all too aware of just how close to death he had just come—and if Soo-im had gotten her hands on him, likely a fate worse than death.

But it wasn't his own safety that he was concerned about. There was only one person that was on his mind. The woman who had been on his mind for the last year. The woman who had become his reason for everything. The one who had helped him find a better path and given him hope for a future where he could feel real happiness.

In-joo.

He took the stairs. Not because the elevator wasn't safe right now, but because he wanted to clear his head. He felt dizzy; he felt like he couldn't focus on anything other than the ground right in front of him. Because he had been ready to die, and then his life had been handed back to him, with no explanation.

He climbed the steps slowly, one at a time, leaning heavily on the rail. For all his stoicism, for all his willingness to sacrifice himself, the realization that he was going to see In-joo again had nearly knocked him off his feet.

He would never let her go. He would never let her forget how he felt. Because she had given him everything that he had never once believed he could have. She had helped him become the person he always should have been.

And then, halfway up the staircase, he paused, because a terrible thought had just crossed his mind.

Whatever Ward had discovered, whatever had caused Jeongran to issue the stand-down order—it didn't apply to Soo-im. And if it did apply to Soo-im, she wasn't likely to care at all.

That meant she could have bypassed Do-il entirely, and was on her way, right now, to In-joo and the rest.

In an instant, the dizziness of survival vanished from his mind. He was no longer faced with his own shocking survival. The only thing that filled him was the cool clarity that he needed to move right now, that he needed to get there faster than her.

The stairs disappeared from under him as he ran. The walls around him were gone. His surroundings became as blank as his thoughts, and he could see In-joo in front of him as he went.

He burst through the door to their floor, terrified that the next thing he would see was going to be an open suite door and a pool of blood spilling out into the hallway. But it was empty. There was no one.

Do-il didn't breathe a sigh of relief—there was no time for that. But he allowed himself a single heartbeat to appreciate that his worst fears had not yet come true. And then he moved on, his footfalls hammering against the carpet as he approached the door and opened it using his key in one smooth movement.

He stepped inside, the door slamming hard behind him, and he looked at the faces of everyone who was still standing there, staring at him with wide eyes.

"What happened?" In-kyung asked.

He didn't have a chance to respond.

In-joo ran to him, and he could see the fear on her face. He knew that for as frightened as he had been of what might happen to In-joo, she had been just as, if not more, worried about his fate. "You're okay," she breathed, throwing her arms around him and pulling him close.

They didn't have time. They needed to leave. But for just a few seconds, he let himself embrace her, forgetting about the rest of the world. He didn't know what had happened. He didn't know how they had done it. And truthfully, he didn't care. What difference did it make? Why did it matter? They were still alive.

But the moment couldn't last forever. And after too brief a time, he pulled away from her, trying his best to straighten his thoughts. Trying his best to bring out the Do-il that could execute even the most impossible of plans. The one that could snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, using nothing but his own skill.

"We need to leave now," he said. "Whatever happened—"

Ward spoke, and Do-il could tell that whatever had happened, it had taken a toll on the man. "The truth happened. I showed—In-kyung showed the world the truth."

Do-il looked from face to face, and what he saw told him enough. He could learn the details later. Whatever it was, it had been enough to stun Ward and to cause Jeongran to stand down. They must have been exposed. The documents from Ward's grandfather must have contained enough details to show the world what Jeongran had done in America.

"Soo-im won't care," said Do-il. "It doesn't matter what you showed the world. It won't be enough to stop her now. We need to leave, and we need to do it fast. Whatever happens next with Jeongran won't have anything to do with us, and that's alright. But what happens next with her..."

He was very aware of the fact that if Soo-im hadn't allowed In-kyung and Jong-ho to come up to the room, none of this would have been possible. But she had always been too confident of her own skill. She had never been capable of planning for every eventuality, not like him.

"Take what you need and go," said Do-il. "Stay together and stay close." He didn't need to tell them that the danger was over yet.

Everyone moved at once, running to grab their bags, which were already packed and just waiting to be taken. In-hye and Hyo-rin moved together, and Do-il felt himself following them, at first unsure as to why he was doing it.

It all made sense when he saw the looks on their faces. Hyo-rin still looked terrified, and the stress was clearly visible on In-hye. As they each picked up their small bag from the corner of the side room, Do-i, watched them and spoke quietly.

"We're going to make it," he said. "Do you trust me?"

They both looked at him and nodded, and he knew that they were telling the truth.

"We're going to get you both out of here," said Do-il. "We're nearly done. Are you ready?"

In-hye and Hyo-rin exchanged a glance, and he saw the resourcefulness and determination of youth all over them. He was proud of them both. Because in the end, they hadn't become him. They hadn't allowed themselves to be changed by the world.

They had done it themselves.

"We are," said In-hye.

"Then let's go," he said.

And their small group, moving quickly, bags slung over their shoulders, opened the door to the hallway, ready to make their final break to freedom.

But the hallway wasn't as empty as they had expected.

Because standing there, was a lone figure. Still bleeding, still looking just as furious as he had before.

"Did you really think," Isaac Chambers gasped, "that I was just going to let you walk away?"

Notes:

I'm working as hard and as fast as I can to get the next chapters out to you! There might be a slight delay because I have a few other responsibilities I need to focus on as well, but please know that I'm doing my best to get this story to its conclusion. I'm not sure exactly how many chapters are left now, but there aren't many.

I'll see you all very soon! Thank you for always coming back and for being such a wonderful audience.

Chapter 51

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

In-joo looked at Isaac Chambers, and strangely, she didn't feel much of anything at all. The fear that he had brought before was just... absent. She wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because now that they had exposed the truth of Jeongran, it had clipped his talons. Maybe it was that Soo-im represented the greater threat to her.

Maybe she had just seen so much that at this point, it took more than an angry and injured man to inspire fear in her.

"Get out of our way," said Do-il. There was no room for argument in his words. "We don't have time for you."

"You'll make time for me," Chambers growled. And with that, he drew a gun. "You had plenty of time for me when you were busy tearing down everything that I've built for myself."

Still, In-joo felt nothing. Was it because Do-il was there with her?

"You did that to yourself," In-kyung said. There wasn't a hint of pity in her words. "With your greed. You could have just left us alone; you didn't have to go along with Soo-im. You want us to feel sorry for you? You had everything, and you threw it all away because it wasn't enough."

"I don't want you to feel sorry for me. I want you to—"

"You want us to feel what you felt?" In-kyung said bitterly. "You want your revenge? You're just like her. All of you people are the same."

Chambers shrugged. "You know something? I don't really care what you think. If I'm not walking out of here, neither are you." He lifted the gun, aiming it as best he could under his current circumstances. In-joo could see it shaking in his hand.

Do-il took an imperceptible step sideways. Anyone else wouldn't have noticed it, but In-joo did. He shifted, less than a step, just so that he was standing in front of her. And that was when she felt the first stirrings of fear. Because anything could happen to her. But Do-il... not him. He had faced enough.

She knew what would happen next. Do-il would go for his gun, and if he was lucky, then he would get a shot off before Chambers was able to. It was obvious that Chambers wasn't a fighter—he had skill and obvious experience, but he was out of practice. He had slowed down.

Maybe that was what had always set the Oh sisters apart from everyone they had gone up against. Because they had understood true desperation. They had known what it was like to come from nothing.

In-joo didn't want to see it come down to violence. But lately, it seemed like in the end, everything came down to violence.

"You can't win this," said Do-il. He sounded calm, but In-joo could tell that it was all a facade. He was making one last attempt at peace—an attempt that he knew would fail. "Even if you stop one of us, you're still outnumbered. You're alone."

He didn't say anything else, but he didn't have to. The implication was in his words. Chambers would lose because he was alone. Do-il and the rest—they hadn't been alone for a long time.

"I don't care," said Chambers. And that was the moment when In-joo knew that there was nowhere left for this encounter to go.

In-joo could see the muscles in Chambers' hand tightening as his finger moved and closed around the trigger. Her heart rate sped up but her adrenaline slowed the world to a crawl, and she saw every detail as it unfolded.

Do-il wasn't going to get his gun out in time. And he seemed to know it, too. Because he didn't reach for it. He didn't even try. He just turned, as fast as he could, and shoved In-joo hard enough to send her falling to the ground. His movement was so sudden that she didn't even have time to brace herself before she struck the carpet. In-joo rolled over and tried pushing herself back to her feet so that she could see what had happened, but she wasn't able to do it in time.

The gunshot was painfully loud in the narrow hallway. In-joo froze where she was on her hands and knees, afraid to look up, afraid to see what had happened. For them to have made it this far—to be this close to the end—and for it to all go wrong now... it wouldn't be right. It wouldn't be fair. The world couldn't be that cruel to her, not after everything that they had gone through.

She stared at the carpet for a second longer. She needed to look. Why was no one saying anything? Why was it so quiet?

But that wasn't correct. It wasn't quiet. She could hear the sound of a struggle unfolding right in front of her, and she could hear the sound of a door swinging shut. And more than that, she could feel the gentle touch of Do-il's hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "But we need to move."

She took his hand as he helped her to her feet, and that was when she was able to see what had happened.

The bullet hadn't hit anyone, but it wasn't for lack of Chambers' effort. He had been aiming at one of them, though it was hard to say specifically who. The shot hadn't connected because he had been knocked to the side, slammed into the wall, and brought down to the ground by the arrival of the one member of their group who hadn't gotten there yet.

Ko Min-jun.

He had come crashing through the door on the other end of the hallway, running at full speed, no doubt in the process of doing the same thing that Do-il had been doing, just a few minutes ago.

The two men were struggling on the ground, each attempting to gain control of the gun. In-joo wanted to dash forward and help, but she knew that right now, the best thing for her to do was—

"Run!" shouted Min-jun over the sound of his fight with Chambers. "Soo-im is coming, you have to go now!"

In-joo was frozen momentarily. Were they really going to leave him behind again? But he was capable of making his own decisions, and this was what he had chosen.

"Meet us at the car!" In-joo called out as the group broke into a run once more. She had no idea what was going to happen to Chambers, but she imagined that law enforcement not bought by Jeongran would be arriving soon to arrest him—if Min-jun didn't accidentally kill him first.

She pushed those thoughts out of her mind as they hit the staircase and started toward what was planned to be their final destination. All they needed to do was find the vehicles and drive away. They could leave this whole nightmare behind them. They could build new lives, the kind that they should have already been living.

It was time to make up for the mistakes of the past.

In-joo ran, and as she ran, she imagined what the future would look like. It looked a lot like her dreams from the past year.

Do-il didn't want to assume that the danger was over. But if Jeongran really was standing down, if the only two people left to worry about were Chambers and Soo-im, then maybe that was as bad as it was going to get. Maybe it really was over.

Ward stopped him before they entered the underground parking garage.

"I'm not going in with you," he said.

Do-il's guard immediately went up and his suspicions rose. "Why?"

"Because someone needs to check the other exit to the garage," said Ward. "And I don't think you trust me enough to leave me as the only one protecting everyone."

Do-il hated it, but the man was right. It made sense—there were only two ways in and out of the employee garage. One was the door that they were standing behind. The other was the exit they were going to drive out of. They needed to know for sure that their route was clear, and the only way they could do that now was to have someone physically check. To make matters worse, they still couldn't trust that their communications were secure. Even if Jeongran had backed down, that didn't mean Soo-im wasn't still listening. It wasn't a risk they could take.

"Go," said Do-il. "Do it fast, because we don't have long. We're going in now, so you're going to have to run." The only way to get there was to go through the lobby and around the hotel. Do-il probably wouldn't be able to do it on his own anyway—he would be stopped by law enforcement before he made it. Jack Ward though... he was a member of the CIA, and despite the legality of his operating on US territory, that simple fact carried a lot of weight.

Ward took off without another word, without turning to see if any of them had anything else to say. Do-il watched him go. The man was an enigma, and his interactions with them had left Do-il both confused and introspective. Do-il was hard-pressed to say whether the man was an ally or not. But he supposed the classification didn't matter. In the end, despite what he had done at the start, he had chosen to help them.

It was another reminder of how far Do-il had come. Maybe people were capable of changing to an extent that he hadn't considered possible before.

"How long are we going to wait?" In-kyung asked nervously.

"Just a minute or two," Do-il said. He understood her nervousness. "We can't stay here forever. We're going to have to move soon."

What he didn't add was that he was going to just have to hope that Ward had gotten there and done his job before they entered the garage. Do-il wasn't even sure if it was possible for Ward to get there that fast, but they had to trust him.

They had to trust that he wouldn't just run off—or worse, that he wouldn't betray them to whoever might be waiting outside.

Just because they had bought themselves a reprieve from Jeongran didn't mean that there wouldn't be interested parties in the police who wanted to speak to them. And there was still the matter of the promise that Ward had made them, to clear their names and make sure that international law enforcement wouldn't go after them anymore.

The biggest question was whether or not Ward would still uphold his end of the bargain despite the fact that Do-il had hidden the money and taken away Ward's incentive. Things seemed to have... changed for the CIA agent, but that didn't mean he wasn't going to try and take some kind of vindictive action against them.

Do-il's heartbeat was growing louder and louder. He gripped his gun, keeping it at the ready, prepared to move at a moment's notice. More than anything, he hated that the Ohs were having to go through this. The children, especially, didn't deserve this kind of trauma. He made a promise to himself that when this was all over, he would do everything he could to make sure that she was able to move on and live a normal life.

Or at least as much of a normal life as any of them would be able to live.

"Do-il..." In-joo whispered.

Do-il breathed slowly and steadied himself. "Don't worry. We're almost done." In his head, he was calculating just where Ward was most likely to be. And based on his calculations, Ward was almost certainly at the exit or at the very least, close to it.

"Just a little longer," Do-il said, trying to project as much calm into his voice as possible. They were looking to him to keep them safe. They were counting on him to be the leader.

And then they heard the footsteps approaching.

Ordinarily, Do-il wouldn't have been so concerned. It could be anyone—people trying to escape, civilians making a break for the exit. Workers, using the relatively hidden maintenance passage to get outside.

There was one thing though that was setting off every alarm inside his head. It was the level of volume of the footsteps. It was the fact that he could tell, immediately, exactly what was causing the sound.

Boots. Combat boots. More than one pair, and coming quickly. They were making no attempt to conceal the fact that they were approaching, and that, more than anything else, scared him.

Everyone else heard it too, because they all turned to look at him with wide eyes. "I'll stay," he said. "I'll delay them."

He didn't know who it was, but he could guess. There were likely still members of Jeongran who didn't care what had happened. People who were as driven as Soo-im or Chambers. Maybe they had been promised some kind of monetary bonus. Maybe they had been promised some kind of power. Whatever it was, they were coming.

"No," said In-joo.

"In-joo, we don't have time for this!"

"You can't do that again. You won't..."

She was right. He was still winded from the chase he had led the men on before, and the fighting had taken its toll on him. He was capable of many things, but he wasn't a miracle worker. Even he had limits.

"That doesn't matter. Take the girls and go."

"I'm staying with you."

Do-il looked about helplessly. "Jong-ho, In-kyung, tell her—"

In-kyung said nothing, and Do-il's voice died out, because he knew that he wasn't going to be getting any help from her. "Tell her," Do-il said, though he knew the argument was already lost.

"We'll take the girls," said In-kyung softly. "But I can't tell my sister what to do. If it was her..."

"But it's not," snapped Do-il.

"I can make my own decisions," said In-joo.

Do-il felt like his heart was about to crack in half under the weight of what they were facing. It was too much. Even he could only bear a certain amount, and this... this was beyond that limit.

He said nothing else. There was nothing left to say.

Jong-ho exchanged a look with Do-il as he stepped past him. It was a look of gratitude and friendship. It was a look that Do-il had rarely seen in his lifetime. It was a look that made him realize how much he had missed in his years.

Do-il gave the keys to the vehicles to Jong-ho, who in turn, handed them to In-hye. "Just in case," Jong-ho said, and Do-il knew that they were in good hands.

"You'll make it through this," said In-kyung as she hugged her sister. "I'll see you in a minute. We'll wait for you."

In-joo nodded, and Do-il saw that there were no tears on her face. She didn't speak.

"I love you," said In-hye. "And... thank you."

"For what?" In-joo asked in a whisper.

"For showing me what it means to be a hero," In-hye said. She looked at Do-il. "Both of you."

"I was never a hero," said Do-il.

In-hye smiled. "You were always mine."

They were gone too soon, too fast, heading into the garage. Do-il turned to In-joo. He was frustrated with her, unbelievably so. How could she think of doing this?

But he couldn't be angry because he would have done the same thing without even thinking about it.

He handed her the gun. She opened her mouth to argue, but he cut her off. "No. If you're here, if you're with me, then you take this. Use it to defend yourself."

"You need it!"

"I'll be fine. We don't need to win. We just need to—" He didn't bother finishing what he saying. There was no point. He knew what he was going to have to do. So did she. Instead, he said something else. "I love you. Thank you for not ever letting me be alone."

She looked at him with a smile that said everything she didn't have time to fit into words. "I love you."

And that was the end of their time, because the boots were there, and Do-il could see that his guess had been right. It wasn't the same men he had faced before, but he recognized the uniform and the gear.

Do-il didn't hold himself back. He didn't give them a chance to even aim their weapons. He simply threw himself into the middle of them, becoming, for what was likely the last time, a windmill of violence.

Every strike was aimed to utterly incapacitate, but also to keep the combat centered around Do-il. He hadn't heard a single gunshot yet, but he didn't want In-joo to have to pull the trigger unless it was absolutely necessary.

Do-il didn't speak a word. He didn't issue any threats; he didn't waste a breath.

And systematically, one by one, he began to realize...

That he was winning.

It was impossible, of course. Sweat was running down his face, his hair was plastered to his forehead, and his limbs were beginning to feel like lead. Each blow grew more difficult than the last, and as every second ticked by, he grew more aware of the fact that he was nearly finished, that he couldn't keep the fight up for much longer.

As each of the suited men fell, Do-il felt his strength draining away. He was winning, but in the end, he was going to lose. And that was made worse by the simple fact that he knew what In-joo was going to have to do.

It didn't take long. In fact, it happened faster than Do-il would have anticipated. But he stumbled and let his guard down. It was only for a split second, but that was all that was needed. He took a heavy blow, straight to his stomach, enough to drive the wind out of him and send him staggering. Another strike to his legs knocked him to the ground, while he was still desperately trying to catch his breath.

He pulled himself forward painfully with his fingertips, trying to rise, sweat stinging his eyes, when the toe of a boot connected with his chin, causing his head to snap back and stars to explode before his eyes.

By the time his vision cleared, all he saw was the barrel of a gun pointed right at his face.

In-joo was speaking, but he couldn't hear her.

Don't make her have to do it.

There has to be another way.

But sometimes, Do-il was discovering, there was no other way.

Notes:

I think at this point, there's only about three or four chapters left. At the end of the story, I will include an Afterword to talk about the choices I made while writing. There will also be a chapter containing the soundtrack and a little explanation of why I picked each song. It's hard to believe we're almost there...

I'll see you all as soon as possible!

Chapter 52

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

"Put it down," In-joo said. She trying, harder than she ever had before, to hide just how terrified she was. It wasn't the first time she had held a gun, and it was the first time she had pointed it at someone with intent to kill, but that didn't mean she was any more okay with it. "Back up and put it down."

She couldn't see the man's eyes, but she knew that he would kill Do-il without any hesitation. And that meant that she needed to make him think that she would do the same, if necessary.

Would she? That was the question, wasn't it? Would she take a life to save Do-il? God help her, she thought she would.

"You don't have any ground to negotiate on," the man said. There wasn't a hint of mercy in his words, and she knew that he hated her just as much as Soo-im. Just as much as Chambers. Just as much as the rest of Jeongran that she had destroyed. "Drop the gun or I'll kill you too."

"We're all dead either way," said In-joo, and she hoped that she sounded braver than she felt. "Why should I stop now?"

He said nothing in reply, and she knew that was because he didn't have any argument against what she had said. She tried not to look at Do-il. She tried not to think about how he was trying and failing to stand. She tried not to consider the fact that his ribs might be broken or that he was clearly struggling to breathe. Because if she thought about those things, then she wouldn't be able to do what she needed to do.

But she also knew that she couldn't stand here forever. If the standoff continued, he could call for backup. Or worse, Soo-im could arrive. That, more than anything else, was what she was trying to avoid.

This time, Do-il couldn't save her. This time, she needed to find a way to do it herself.

But she couldn't bring herself to pull the trigger, and the man with the gun seemed to understand that she wasn't able to do it.

But if I don't, Do-il is going to die.

"Last chance," said the helmeted man, "drop the gun and get on your knees. Or you know what happens next."

The world around In-joo was replaced by a red mist, and the sound of the man's voice was drowned out by her own heartbeat. It was time for her to make a decision, and there was truthfully only one choice left for her to make.

In-joo pulled the trigger. Once, twice, three times. The gun jerked each time, the sound of each shot further wiping away the world around her. Each bullet struck the man in the chest. After the first, he took a step back. After the second, he stumbled, and almost dropped his gun. After the third, he toppled over, and the weapon clattered to the ground.

In-joo just stood there. She didn't say anything. She didn't move. She wasn't sure if she had killed him, but she was horrified to discover that she didn't care. All that mattered was that Do-il was still alive.

Do-il was still trying to pick himself back up to his feet, but she knew that on his own, he wouldn't be able to. So she approached him and bent down, offering him her hand. Maybe she couldn't do much. But she could do this.

In-joo helped him rise. His legs were shaky, and he could barely support his own weight, instead choosing to lean himself against her. He was heavy, and moving slowly, and he seemed to be trying to speak, but nothing was coming.

"Don't," In-joo said. "Save your strength."

"I'm alright," he managed to gasp. "We're going to be okay."

"That's right," In-joo said, and for some reason, she felt like bursting into tears. "Just come with me. We're almost there."

It wasn't more than a few yards to the parking garage, but it felt like a mile. Do-il was moving slower than she had ever seen him move before, and it scared her. She knew that part of it was just exhaustion, but she also knew that he had taken too many blows. They needed to get out of here, and they needed to do it now. She would keep him safe and make sure that he could recover in peace.

"Singapore," In-joo whispered. "That's where we'll go. And we won't have to do anything, or worry about anyone. We can just be together, and be happy, and all of this can just be part of our past."

Do-il mumbled something. She still couldn't make it out, but she took the fact that he was still conscious and at least still trying to speak as a good sign.

"We can stay anywhere," she said. "Just us. And you can show me all the places that we never got to see."

Do-il wasn't mumbling anymore, but he was still walking, and that was good enough for her. If he came to a dead stop, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to get him any further without additional help.

It didn't come to that. The door was only a few steps away now, and despite the painfully slow pace that they were moving at, she managed to get the two of them through the door and into the garage. The door swung shut behind her, and she was greeted by absolute silence.

For some reason, that scared her more than anything else. Her sisters weren't calling for her; they weren't telling her to hurry. Min-jun hadn't made it back down from his confrontation with Chambers. Was it all falling apart now, this close to their escape?

"You finally decided to join us."

When In-joo finally did hear a voice, it was far, far worse than the silence. Because she immediately knew who was speaking, and she knew that yes, everything was falling apart.

As In-joo and Do-il turned the corner out of the stairwell to the garage and stepped onto the paved ground, surrounded by parking spaces and the employees' cars, the speaker came into view. And she wasn't alone.

Soo-im was standing there, in front of the two vehicles that they had intended to use to escape. Both of her hands were full, though what filled each one was very different.

In one hand, she held a small piece of plastic. There was a red button on the top of it, and she was brandishing it like a weapon.

In the other hand, she held In-hye, her arm wrapped around the girl's throat. In-hye was just standing there, frozen, her eyes wide, but otherwise not showing any fear.

Hyo-rin, on the other hand, was crying, tears pouring down her face, but she wasn't making a noise. In-joo stared at the scene in horror. What was that in Soo-im's hand? Why was she wielding it like it had the power to end In-hye?

Do-il did manage to speak then, though his voice was little more than a croak. Even though the two of them were approaching In-kyung and Jong-ho now, In-joo didn't think that they were able to hear what Do-il was saying.

"It's a detonator," he wheezed. "She... she wired herself. Don't get any closer."

In-joo froze then, because she suddenly understood just how desperate their situation was. Where had Soo-im gotten explosives? Were they enough to kill all of them?

"I didn't want to do anything until we were all gathered," said Soo-im. "But I won't lie, I was getting a little impatient."

"Don't hurt her," In-joo whispered. "Not her."

Soo-im laughed. "Do you feel that? That desperation? That's what you've given to me, over and over again. How many times do you think you can just take everything from me? How many times do you think that you're going to leave me with nothing?"

In-joo said nothing. What difference did it make? There was nothing she could say that would convince this madwoman otherwise. What did it matter if Soo-im was insane, and that her interpretation of events was hopelessly skewed?

Because she was threatening In-hye. And that was the only thing that mattered.

"You won't do it again," said Soo-im. "And I'm going to make you understand—"

"Understand?" asked In-joo. Her voice was nearly hysterical, and it rose in volume as she spoke. "You think I don't understand what it's like to have nothing? You know exactly what I lived like. You know what we had. You think you know what it's like to have nothing? You have no idea. You've never cared about anyone beyond yourself in your entire life. You don't know what it's like to lose someone."

Soo-im's lips peeled back into a sickening grin. "Well, you're about to be able to explain it to me very, very well."

In-joo was starting to be able to see what had happened. Soo-im must have found out where they were going. Maybe one of the hotel employees had told her. Maybe she had seen them on security cameras. Maybe she had just taken a guess and gotten lucky.

In either case, she had been waiting for them. And she had grabbed the first person that she had been able to reach.

It was just pure bad luck that it had been In-hye.

Where was Ward? He must not have gotten here in time. The situation on the staircase had thrown off their timing and disrupted everything.

Do-il lifted his head from where he was leaning against In-joo. His voice was hoarse and weak, but there was no doubt that Soo-im could hear him. "Those are breaching explosives. From the SWAT team. You won't... you won't be able to kill all of us with it."

In-joo didn't see it at first, but that was only because she hadn't known what she was looking for. It took her only a second after Do-il had spoken for her to spot the misshapen, drably colored lumps that Soo-im had wired to her body, just underneath the jacket she was wearing.

Soo-im sneered. "I don't need to kill all of you. I just need to kill one of you. All of you at once? That would be too easy. No, I think I'll make you suffer in a way that physical pain would never be able to accomplish."

That was all that In-joo needed to hear. There was nothing else that Soo-im needed to say. Because there was no way that any of them could stop her from pressing the trigger. Even if In-joo shot her, even if Do-il somehow managed to draw a weapon in time, Soo-im would be able to set off the explosives before they could do anything about it.

"Please," said In-joo, and she did nothing to keep her desperation hidden. "Please, Soo-im. Don't do this. You can have my money. You can have... you have my company. I'll do anything, just let her go. She doesn't deserve this. She wasn't supposed to be part of this."

And even though she put every ounce of her fear, every ounce of her sincerity into those words, she could tell by the look on Soo-im's face that nothing was going to change. The woman had already made up her mind, and there was only one way this would end.

"Please," In-joo begged, and her voice finally broke. The tears started to come, and there was nothing she could do to stop them. The sight of her youngest sister, so strong, so brave, and so innocent, only seconds away from what would be a sudden and brutal death, was just too much for her. She was no longer holding up Do-il. They were supporting each other. If he hadn't been there, she knew that she would have collapsed to the ground, unable to bear what was unfolding right in front of her.

"You should have thought about all of that before you crossed me," said Soo-im. Her words were flat and empty. She sounded barely human, more like a pale imitation of something that was no longer attempting to disguise its true nature. "People like you never win. You belong in the dirt, where you came from."

In-kyung stepped forward, and Soo-im raised the detonator a little higher. "We're the ones who never win? Then what do you call what you've been doing? Because from where I'm standing, I'm having a hard time seeing how this is a win for you. It's over, Soo-im. The world knows about the Jeongran extension. They can't give you what you want anymore—"

"If I can't have what I want, then no one can," Soo-im said in a dangerously quiet voice.

"It's okay," said In-hye, and at her words, everyone else fell silent. The only sound that could be heard was the sound of Hyo-rin's stifled sobs.

"Is it?" Soo-im asked mockingly.

"Shut up," In-kyung said, with such venom in her voice that it actually shocked Soo-im back into silence.

In-hye smiled. It was a weak, sad little smile, but it was there, and it was real. "It's okay," she said again. "If this means that the rest of you can live and be free, then that's okay."

"In-hye, no—" In-joo didn't even know what she was going to say, but it didn't matter. In-hye didn't let her finish her sentence.

"I'm ready," she said, in that strange, solemn voice that she had used from a young age. "I've seen this before. I've seen what comes next. I've been feeling it since I was little. Remember?"

And In-joo's hand went to her mouth as she attempted to stifle a gasp. She did remember. She knew all too well about the false memories that In-hye had carried for so long. The ones that had never belonged to her. The ones that had belonged to a girl who had been taken from the world at too young an age.

The same way In-hye was about to be taken.

"Don't listen to her," said In-hye. "You did win. We all did."

"Shut up," hissed Soo-im, but In-hye ignored her and just kept talking.

"Do-il, thank you. You were the kind of person I always wanted to be. You were always a hero, even when you didn't know it. Don't give up on yourself. And take care of In-joo."

Do-il looked at her and said nothing. But he smiled, a small, encouraging smile. It said more than his words would ever be able to.

In-joo saw now that In-hye was crying too, twin tracks of tears that were running down her face, glistening in the low light.

"In-joo, you were always the best of us. I'm sorry I didn't see how much you cared before. I love you, and I wish I could have been more like you. Please let yourself be happy. Please don't let go of what's right in front of you."

"I won't," whispered In-joo. She was crying so hard that she could barely see, but it didn't matter. She didn't need to see In-hye with her eyes. Her youngest sister's face was burned into her mind—and it would be there forever. "I love you. I'm sorry. I—"

"Jong-ho," In-hye said, not stopping. "I wish more people in the world were like you. I wish I had known how important it was to be loyal. Don't let go of In-kyung, alright?"

Jong-ho nodded. "Alright," he said, in that gentle voice of his.

"In-kyung..."

In-kyung let out a sound that almost sounded like a sob.

"I wish I had listened to you. You were right. You were always right. And I did love you, I just didn't know how to show it. Thank you for caring enough to never give up on me. Even when you wanted to. Even when anyone else would have walked away. You never stopped trying. I love you, In-kyung. I wish I had said it more."

Soo-im's face was a mask of fury. "I told you to stop talking. It's time for me to show your sisters that they only thought they knew what it was like to have nothing."

In-hye, once more, chose to ignore the woman's words.

"Hyo-rin..."

Hyo-rin looked up and wiped her eyes, which were painfully red from crying. "In-hye, it's okay, we'll find—"

In-hye smiled again, and this time, it wasn't so sad. "I wish we would have had more time together. And I wish I would have been a little better at telling you how much you meant to me. I think we both understood loneliness in our own way, but after I found you, it was like I knew what I had been missing my whole life. Promise me you'll find a way to be happy, okay? If you can do that, then I think everyone will be alright."

"I... I promise," Hyo-rin said in a very small voice. "You were my best friend, In-hye. You were the best friend I ever had."

"You were more than that to me," In-hye said, and now, there was no sadness on her face at all. She looked at peace. She looked radiant. "But I think you know that already, don't you?"

"I know," said Hyo-rin. "Because you were the same to me."

And then, it seemed like there was nothing left to say. Because In-hye had fallen silent, and Soo-im's hand was closing a little tighter around the detonator.

"Time to die," said Soo-im. Her expression couldn't have been more different than In-hye's. Instead of the serene tranquility that the young girl bore, Soo-im's face was twisted up by hate and regret. "I hope you enjoyed that. You all deserve what comes next. Knowing that after everything, you couldn't save one girl."

Her thumb started to move, to grow closer to pressing the detonator.

In-joo stood there helplessly, not knowing what to do, not wanting to take her eyes off her sister, but needing to look away, needing to look somewhere else, anywhere else.

What happened next occurred so quickly that In-joo could barely make out what happened. By the time it was over, the garage had erupted into a fiery, smoking haze. Do-il had been right. The breaching explosives hadn't been enough to kill them all, but the resulting destruction had been enough to shatter windshields and set several cars on fire.

When Soo-im's thumb began to lower down onto the trigger, In-joo could briefly hear an approaching noise. It was fast, and it was growing louder, and it was a sound that she recognized almost immediately.

Footsteps, coming fast—the steps of someone sprinting as fast as they possibly could, moving with abandon, without thinking or caring about the consequence.

Ward came into view then, running faster than In-joo had thought possible. He tore in through the exit of the garage, from behind Soo-im, and In-joo knew that Ward would only have one chance at what he was about to do.

"Get down!" Do-il yelled, reaching out and grabbing In-joo.

But she shrugged him off. Because she needed to see.

Soo-im noticed Ward coming, but she was a second too late. By the time she heard him, by the time she had half-turned her head to see the source of the running, Ward was already almost directly behind her.

In-joo's breath was trapped in her throat. Her heart was beating loud—too loud, deafeningly loud.

Ward launched himself into a flying leap, and the last few feet between him and Soo-im vanished.

And then, he was on top of her.

In-joo could barely see now. The three of them—Soo-im, Ward, and In-hye were a tangle of limbs and clothing, and the last thing that In-joo could make out was the sight of Ward tossing In-hye as far as he possibly could—

But it couldn't be enough, because that would be a miracle, and there was no such thing as miracles—

And Soo-im's thumb triggered the detonator.

Do-il pulled In-joo to the ground just as the blast went off, and the world was consumed in a wave of heat and fire.

Notes:

I wrote this all today in a fit of inspiration, because I didn't want to make you wait too long.

It's looking more likely for there to be two more chapters and maybe an epilogue.

I'll be back as soon as I can. Thank you for always being patient, and thank you for always coming back. We're almost to the end now.

Chapter 53

Notes:

(See the end of the chapter for notes.)

Chapter Text

Do-il was face down on the ground, and his arms didn't seem to be working. He knew what he needed to do. He just needed to stand up, to get over to where In-hye was, and to check on her. But he just... couldn't... do it.

He could feel the heat of the fire. The explosion had been controlled, because the materials she had used to pull it off hadn't been designed for this sort of action. She had used whatever had been on hand, and the only things that she had access to were explosives that were designed for knocking down doors and walls.

But they had been enough to...

No. No, he couldn't think like that. He didn't know what had happened, not yet. Ward had come in at the last second, Ward had—

He had risked his life for In-hye, there was no other way to put it.

There was no noise now, with the exception of the crackling of the flames. Everything else had gone eerily quiet. There was a ringing in Do-il's ears, and his breathing was loud, too loud. He opened his mouth and tried to speak, but the only noise that emerged was a hoarse croak. His ribs felt like they might have been cracked. He knew that they were definitely bruised.

He had to get to In-hye. He had to make sure that she was okay.

Through the bleary haze of his vision, he could see where she was laying, having been tossed by both Ward and the explosion. Ward had given her the best possible chance of survival, but In-hye was motionless, not even twitching. Her clothes were singed and limbs were splayed out, and her forearms, all the way down to her hands, were covered in blood and what looked to be severe burns.

Do-il continued to drag himself forward. He had done his best to shield In-joo from the worst of the blast. She was still laying on the ground, but he could tell that she was okay, or at the very least, that she would be okay.

The person who had taken the worst of it—aside from Ward and Soo-im—was In-hye.

There was no question that Soo-im was dead. Do-il couldn't see much of what had happened to her, but he saw a shape that he assumed had, at one point, been Soo-im. The shape was burning and deformed, and he knew that there was no chance of her having survived.

That meant, finally, it was over. All of it. The only thing that mattered was making sure that everyone else came out of it alive.

There were sirens in the distance. Ambulances. Law enforcement not controlled by Jeongran. The facade was crumbling down. Do-il just needed to stabilize In-hye, keep her breathing until the paramedics made it. Surely she was still alive. She had to be. They couldn't have come this far for nothing.

Do-il was only a few feet now from where In-hye had landed. He could see now that the extent of her injuries was worse than he had assumed. Her arms and hands looked like they had taken the worst of the blast, likely because of the way she had been thrown. It was possible that she had actually briefly caught on fire, before landing and rolling. The burns looked much worse up close.

Do-il reached the spot where In-hye was laying. Her eyes were closed and her face was streaked with soot, sweat, and blood. Do-il lowered his face to her nose, desperate to hear any sign of life. He didn't have a mirror—that was his preferred way to check if someone was still breathing—but this would have to do.

He waited.

And he felt nothing.

No.

She had to be breathing. She had to be fine. Even the shock of the explosion couldn't have been enough to—

She was Oh In-hye. She was too strong to let something like this stop her. That wasn't how her story was supposed to end.

And then Do-il thought back to her final words. To the calm acceptance that she had worn on her face. He wondered just how much she had known. For a girl that young to have encountered and come to terms with death at such a young age... her life had not been easy.

Perhaps death would be kinder to her.

Do-il was certain now. The girl wasn't breathing. He felt for a heartbeat, for any sign of a pulse, and he found nothing. He wiped his eyes, not just to clear them of dirt and the residue of the explosion, but also so that he could see through the haze of tears that were beginning to blur his vision.

This isn't how it ends. It can't be.

The sirens were getting louder. He knew what he needed to do, even if he had no idea if it would work or not. He had to try.

Do-il rolled his sleeves up, got onto his knees, bent over In-hye's limp body, and began chest compressions.

It wouldn't miraculously restart her heart. It wouldn't cause a miracle to happen. But it might—just maybe—buy enough time for the paramedics to get to her. To perform defibrillation.

Do-il continued to count in rhythm, closing his eyes, and breathing a prayer to whoever might be listening, that if nothing else, he could accomplish this one last task.

In-joo saw what Do-il was doing. She could hear the sound of the ambulances. And she was terrified by the thought of what might have happened. What might still happen.

They were safe. It was over. So why, why, did the world decide it was necessary to play one last terrible trick on them. In-joo was able to stand, despite having been tossed to the ground by the blast. She knew that Do-il had been in worse shape than her, and he had been able to get himself to In-hye. That meant In-joo should be able to do it as well.

By the time she got to her younger sister, she could tell just how dire the situation was. "Is she—"

Do-il shook his head and just kept counting out loud, as he alternated between chest compressions and placing his mouth against In-hye's and blowing into it.

The ambulance was speeding down into the parking garage now, through the same entrance that Ward had run through. The opening was nearly too small for the ambulance, but the driver barely slowed down as it came to a screeching halt, near where Do-il, In-joo, and In-hye were.

Three paramedics hopped out of the white and red vehicle, and came running over, pushing a stretcher between them.

"I tried CPR. She wasn't out for more than a minute. She's not breathing," Do-il said desperately, and In-hye realized that he was crying. "She's just... she's just not—"

One of the paramedics gently pushed Do-il to the side, and then they began to work to get her on the stretcher. They were speaking, but In-joo couldn't hear them. She was holding Do-il and watching three strangers lift the bloodied body of her youngest sister.

"I tried," Do-il said. "I tried. I did everything I could think of, it just wasn't—"

"I know," In-joo said. "It's okay. It's not your fault."

The paramedics were shouting, and In-joo couldn't understand what they were saying. Something about In-hye's heart, something about defibrillation. Something about getting her into the ambulance, because they were on a clock—

In-joo heard an electric whine as they loaded the stretcher into the back of the ambulance. They were going to try. There was still a chance. There was still—

"Ward," said Do-il, as if realizing for the first time that the CIA agent hadn't just vanished. Do-il still sounded dazed, and In-joo understood perfectly.

Behind them, In-kyung and Jong-ho were rising to their feet. In-kyung was saying something, but In-joo was having a hard time making out the words.

"Ward," said Do-il, and In-joo realized for the first time, that Jack Ward was still on the ground, close to where Soo-im's body had landed.

In-joo looked back and forth between Ward and the ambulance. "Go," said Do-il. "You can't do anything else here right now. Go, it's okay."

In-joo hated the idea of her sister being alone, but... she wouldn't be alone, would she? Do-il was there. In-kyung, Jong-ho, and Hyo-rin were slowly making their way over. And Ward was by himself, on the ground, maybe dead from his attempt to save the life of a girl who he had no real ties to.

In-joo limped over to wear Ward was laying, and she got close, she could see that he was still moving.

She could also see that he was dying, and that there was nothing anyone could do to stop it.

The blast had more or less ripped a hole straight through his stomach. There was more blood than In-joo had ever seen in her life, but for some reason, she couldn't take her eyes off his face. It was filthy and smeared both black and red, but it bore an expression that made him look different than she could remember ever seeing him before.

"Did I... did I do it?" he asked, when she was close enough to hear him. "Was I fast enough?"

In-joo didn't know the answer to that. Part of her was still back by the ambulance with her sister. In-hye was...

No. Thinking like that, it wouldn't help, not now. There was still more than needed to be done, she couldn't allow herself to be paralyzed by grief. There was no way of knowing what might happen next. There was no reason to dwell on possibilities.

"You were," In-joo whispered. "You saved her."

Ward sighed, then coughed violently. When the fit passed, blood had begun to trickle out of his mouth. "Good," he said finally. "She's just a... kid. She didn't deserve any of this." His voice was fading fast. In-joo knew he didn't have much time left.

Suddenly, he reached out a hand and took In-joo's. She almost pulled away, but she stopped when she saw the look on his face. He looked scared. He looked regretful. He almost looked like a different person.

"Isn't it funny?" he choked out. "I used to think that dying would mean nothing to me. But now that I'm here..."

"You're going to be okay," In-joo whispered.

Ward laughed, and it turned into a horrible, wet-sounding cough. "No, I won't. It's okay. At least I finally did something that mattered."

"Thank you," In-joo said, feeling lost. She squeezed his hand, and felt that his grip was fading.

"Tell them what I did," Ward gasped. "Tell them everything. The bad and the good. Let them see that we... don't have to be our families. Let them see... that we can be more."

"I will," said In-joo. "I promise."

Ward's grip had almost fallen away entirely. "I wasted my life," he murmured. "And I had no idea. Not until I met you. I was so... I was so sure. I was an idiot. I'm sorry I did this to you."

"We've all done things we regret," said In-joo. She didn't know what else to say. There didn't seem to be any words that were sufficient for what she was feeling.

"Tell her I'm sorry," Ward said, and he didn't need to clarify who he was talking about. His voice was barely audible now. He had gone almost entirely white, and his hand was slipping from In-joo's grasp. "I don't want anyone to forgive me. I just want them all to know that I see it now. I finally... see it."

"I'll tell her," said In-joo. "But I think she already knows."

Ward closed his eyes and exhaled. For a moment, In-joo thought he was gone. But a few seconds later, after what seemed like a titanic effort, he looked at her again and spoke. "My father. Tell him I understand now. Please."

"I'll tell him," said In-joo. Why was she crying? What did she care about Jack Ward?

"Maybe it's enough," Ward said. "To do one thing worth doing. I just wish... there had been time to do more."

It was like flipping a switch. She saw the light vanish from his eyes and his body go limp as his hand finally slipped out of hers. Perhaps that was what frightened her so much about death. The fact that it could just appear from nowhere, and steal someone away in the span of a heartbeat.

Jack Ward was dead. And In-joo had no idea how she felt about it.

The paramedics were running up behind her now, shouting, but she had no clue what they were saying. She was covered in blood somehow, though it wasn't hers. It must have come from Ward, but she couldn't remember it happening.

Nothing seemed to matter, really. Was In-hye dead? Was she alive?

Had In-joo survived, or was she just a ghost, clinging onto her hopes for the future? She didn't know. Would she ever know? It all felt like too much, happening too fast.

So when one of the paramedics pushed her to the side, In-joo's legs finally gave out, and she started to collapse. She was dimly aware of the fact that she needed to brace herself, that she couldn't just let her head strike the concrete.

But the impact never came. Because someone caught her, someone taller than her, someone with strong, warm arms.

She recognized who it was immediately, and she whispered his name.

"Do-il."

He said nothing.

Because there wasn't anything left for either of them to say.

Time had started to come undone for In-kyung. She had been spending so much time in the hospital, surrounded by the white walls and the reflective floors, that it had begun to feel like another world to her.

That didn't matter. She wouldn't be going anywhere until In-hye was able to be discharged.

Her sister had died on the scene. There was no debating that. The doctors had tried to explain to In-kyung how the combination of the concussive force, the rough landing, and the head trauma had all worked together to stop In-hye's heart, but the details didn't matter much. What did matter was that Do-il's CPR had been enough to prevent brain damage from occurring, and the paramedics had arrived in time to resuscitate.

In-hye had lived.

But it hadn't been that simple. She had sustained severe burns to her arms, and when she had landed, she had tried to stop her fall with her hands, leading to fractures in her fingers, palms, and wrists. A lot of the damage had been hairline, but it had been extensive enough, especially when combined with the burns, to lead to severe pain.

And then, several days later, the doctors had come to speak to In-kyung and In-joo about the future of their sister.

"What are you saying?" In-kyung asked.

"If it had just been the burns or the fractures, then things might have turned out differently," said the doctor. "But the combination..."

In-kyung shook her head. "Just tell me what you're trying to say."

The doctor's expression was grave but apologetic. "She might never regain the full use of them. They'll heal. But she'll suffer from tremors, and the burns will heavily effective her dexterity and her sense of touch."

In-kyung's mouth was dry. "Skin grafts, then? Money isn't an issue, we can pay whatever—"

The doctor's tone made it clear that she had explained this sort of thing many times over the course of her career. "I'm sorry. It isn't a matter of money. It's a matter of what's possible."

In-kyung stuttered over her next words. "Have you told her?"

"Not yet," said the doctor. "She might want to hear it from you instead. But I think she might already know. She's... a very smart girl."

"I know," said In-kyung, her voice distracted, and her mind elsewhere. "Will... will she be able to paint again? She's an artist. She's the best I've ever seen."

The doctor's eyes filled with sympathy. "I'm sorry. Her hands, they just... won't be capable of what they once were. She likely won't ever be able to recreate what she can do now."

In-kyung took two steps backward, feeling like she had been punched in the chest. It wasn't fair. It just... wasn't fair. How could they have survived all of this, defied unimaginable odds, and changed the world two times over—just for it to end like this?

"I'll give you some time," the doctor said softly. "You can go and speak to her when you're ready."

In-kyung looked at In-joo, who was just standing there, her face blank and pale. In-kyung didn't say anything. She just reached out and hugged her older sister tightly, pulling her close. After everything, fate didn't seem to be finished with them yet.

They seemed to silently reach an agreement as they separated and turned to walk into In-hye's room. The door was closed to give the girl and Hyo-rin some privacy. Hyo-rin hadn't left the hospital since the explosion either. She had stayed right by In-hye's side. The loyalty was enough to cause In-kyung to tear up. The two girls were truly inseparable.

In-kyung entered the room slowly, with In-joo following close behind. In-hye was awake, both of her arms heavily bandaged and in casts. Hyo-rin and In-hye both looked up as In-joo closed the door behind them.

"How are you feeling?" In-kyung asked.

In-hye had been impossibly bright and strong throughout the entire ordeal. Any other person would have fallen apart—but In-hye, a teenage girl, one who had already been through so much, had shouldered it without a complaint.

"It hasn't gotten worse," said In-hye. "Maybe that's enough for now."

Hyo-rin was sitting right next to In-hye's bed, only inches away from her. "I keep asking her to tell me if she needs anything."

In-hye smiled at Hyo-rin. "I think I already have everything I need."

In-kyung swallowed. She didn't want to have to do this. But In-hye deserved to know. "In-hye... there's something we should talk about."

In-hye looked at her with those wide, curious eyes. "What is it?"

"It's... about your hands."

In-hye nodded. "It's okay. I know."

"In-hye, I—"

"I heard the doctors talking about me. I know what they said. I know they don't think I'll ever be able to paint again."

It was strange. She should have sounded crushed. Miserable. She should have sounded defeated and hopeless. Painting was her reason for existing; it had become her whole life. How could she just so casually accept that it might be taken away from her forever?

"I know how I should feel," In-hye said. "But for some reason, I think it's going to be alright. I have a lot of time left. And who knows what might happen in the future?"

In-kyung looked at her younger sister and felt nothing but love and pride. She had changed—she had grown up. She had learned about herself and about the world, and more importantly, she hadn't let the world tell her who to be.

"I don't know why," said In-hye, "but right now, I don't feel anything other than hope."

In-kyung wished fervently that one day, she might be able to see through the same lens as In-hye. The girl had always seemed to understand basic truths that no one else was able to even notice. That was never more apparent than it was now.

"Whatever happens," said In-kyung, "you won't have to face it alone."

Notes:

The next chapter, I believe, will be the last one. It will be followed by an afterword and the soundtrack chapter.

Only a few days away now.

Thank you for reading.

Chapter 54

Chapter Text

Time has a way of passing without letting anyone know. Days can slip by unnoticed, stretching into weeks, or even longer. And eventually, time can erode the shores of memory, smoothing them down, and turning them into only an imitation of what was once there.

In-kyung found herself in a strange place. Because she feared the fact that she might forget, but at the same time, she could barely bring herself to remember.

In-hye was healing, or at least as much as she could. Hyo-rin was by her side, and somehow, the two of them seemed happier than In-kyung could remember seeing them. In-kyung hadn't wanted to leave her sister, but In-hye had insisted that she take some time for herself.

In-kyung had eventually relented.

Things were... difficult at the moment. The media was trying desperately to get a hold of any of the Oh sisters, and they had once again reached the top of the new cycle for their exposure of Jeongran—only this time, it wasn't just in Korea.

To further complicate matters, Interpol wanted to speak to them as well. They didn't have anything to hide, but all of them just wanted some peace after everything they had been through.

Fortunately, Min-jun had managed to get them some space by using the arrest of Isaac Chambers as a bargaining chip.

"You'll probably have to speak to them eventually," said Min-jun. "But right now I've given them more than enough to keep them busy for a while. Either way, they all think you're a hero."

"What about you?" asked In-kyung. "You're not facing any trouble, are you?"

Min-jun laughed. "Well, they're not exactly happy with me. But they'd be a lot less happy if we hadn't managed to arrest Chambers and confirm the death of Go Soo-im. I'll survive."

"Let me know if you need anything," said In-kyung.

"I think that's supposed to be my line," said Min-jun. "But I'll keep that in mind. I'll talk to you later."

In-kyung hung up and put her phone away, then returned to Jong-ho, who was waiting for her in the hotel bedroom. Yes, they had spent far too much time in hotels over the last few months, but that had been different. That had been the result of them running and hiding. This was by choice.

The two of them had decided to take some time by themselves on a remote island in the Mediterranean. It wasn't totally private, but it was about as close to that as they could reasonably get. Now that they once again had access to all the money that Do-il had hidden away, they were faced with near limitless possibilities.

Spending time in a secluded location also meant that it was much harder for the press to track them down and harass them. Which in In-kyung's mind, was just one more positive.

She stepped back into the room to see Jong-ho just about finished buttoning up his shirt. He wore a long-sleeved, thin white shirt and black slacks. To her, he looked practically angelic. He smiled when he saw her. "Is everything okay?"

"As much as it can be," she said. "Come here."

Jong-ho didn't hesitate, nor did he need to be told twice. He stepped across the room wrapped In-kyung in his arms, then leaned down to kiss her.

"It's been too long since I've been able to do that without having to worry about what was going to happen in the next hour," said Jong-ho with a small smile.

"I'm sorry," said In-kyung. "The only reason you were even dragged into any of this was because of me."

Jong-ho shrugged. "You know it isn't that simple. I only ever did it because—"

"You did it because I was there. And that meant you were in danger," said In-kyung.

"Well," Jong-ho grinned. "Maybe that had something to do with it. But I don't regret anything I did. And I don't regret anything we went through. Because we went through it together."

In-kyung didn't let go of him. She didn't want to ever let go of him. "You know, I used to think that love wasn't real. I used to think that it was just an excuse for men to get what they wanted, and for women like me to find a way to survive. And I think I might have believed that forever, if I hadn't found you again."

"I'm glad you were wrong," said Jong-ho. "And that isn't something I say very often."

He took her hand, and the two of them walked out onto the balcony. The sun was starting to set, and it made the ocean look like it was slowly igniting into a torrent of orange fire. The sight took her breath away every time she saw it. It was something that she had never thought possible for herself. Now it was her reality. Her life.

The two of them stood, leaning on the ornate marble railing in silence for a few moments. It was enough to enjoy the sound of the waves and the sight of the dying sun. It was enough to be with each other.

Finally, when Jong-ho spoke again, his voice sounded strangely nervous. His words quavered as he spoke them, and she was reminded of what he had been like when he had been younger. "I wanted to wait until we were back in Korea," he said, "but then I remembered just what kind of memories we have of that place. So I thought maybe that wouldn't be the best idea."

In-kyung didn't understand what he was talking about, but she didn't disagree with his assessment of Korea. While they had good memories there, she just had too much baggage from a life that had been full of struggles and pain.

She turned to look at him and saw that the nervousness wasn't just in his words. It was on his face as well.

"I've been in love with you for a long time. And I know now that neither of us was in a place where we could do anything about that, but then... things changed. For both of us." He took a deep breath. "I spent a long time wishing that we could just go back to that year we spent together in America. Because that was what I had been dreaming about. Or, well, I guess that's what I thought I had been dreaming about."

"Jong-ho, what are you—?"

"I think I was really dreaming about this."

The nerves were starting to fade from his voice. He was gaining more confidence as he spoke, with every word that passed through his lips.

"I don't know what's going to happen in the future. Maybe nothing. Or maybe it'll all fall apart and we'll be up against the world. But I know that no matter what happens, I want to face it with you."

Jong-ho slowly began to get down on one knee, and In-kyung burst into tears.

"In-kyung, I've loved you since I met you. I've loved every moment that I've spent with you. I can't promise you that I know what the future holds, but I can promise that whatever comes, you won't be alone when it does."

In-kyung covered her mouth with her hands. She already knew what he was going to say now, but it didn't matter. The tears wouldn't stop. Her heart—it was so full that she thought it must burst. This wasn't something that happened to Oh In-kyung. She didn't believe in love. She never had. She certainly didn't believe in—

"Oh In-kyung, there's only more thing I want to say to you."

"Jong-ho..."

"Will you marry me?"

She nodded silently, simply because she couldn't quite get the words out past the tears. She took the ring from him, which seemed to have materialized from nowhere, though he must have been hiding it in his pocket since she had reentered the room.

He stood and embraced her, and then she kissed him, and nothing else existed beyond the two of them and the love they held for each other.

"I will," she finally said, when she was able to speak again. "Yes. Jong-ho, yes."

Neither of them said anything else after that. Because finally, they had found some kind of peace. Jong-ho was right—neither of them guarantee what might happen in the future. But they could do this.

And that was enough.

The sun continued to sink lower and lower, disappearing into the ocean as it went. For In-kyung though, the blazing orange fire of the sunset had turned into the most precious shade of gold.

To her, that was worth more than anything else.

Singapore was a dream. It didn't matter that In-joo had been here before—it felt like she was discovering it all for the first time. She knew why. It was because now, she didn't have to worry about a large-scale conspiracy or about being murdered by a megalomaniac woman.

And this time, Do-il wasn't just there to make sure they got away with their money. This time, he was there because he wanted to be. Because they wanted to be together, and for no other reason than that.

"It's like paradise," In-joo said. It was far from the first time she had shared that thought, but it hadn't yet stopped being true. Somehow, even the city seemed angelic. She wasn't sure how it was possible for a cityscape to feel so perfect, but that was exactly what was happening.

"It's funny," said Do-il, as he looked out over the streets below them. He held a drink in his hand, but he hadn't been drinking it. He had been too focused on In-joo to think about much of anything else. "I don't think it would matter where we were. Not for me."

"I know," said In-joo. She smiled at him. "Because that's how I feel too. But if we had to be anywhere, I think this is a pretty good place to be."

Despite everything that they had gone through, the world continued moving forward. Her company needed her attention, and Do-il was in the process of permanently relocating to wherever In-joo was. But despite all of that, they had chosen to make time just for each other.

Everything else would have to wait.

Neither of them had really talked about what would come next. And that was okay. They had all the time they wanted to figure out the future now that they were free from the shadow of Jeongran.

"I know I apologized before," Do-il began.

"You don't need to say anything," said In-joo. "It's okay."

"Maybe. But that's not the point."

In-joo smiled at him. "This doesn't sound like you."

"I don't sound like me. And I haven't, not since I met you. You changed everything."

"No," In-joo said softly. "You were the one who changed. I was just there to watch it happen."

Do-il turned to look at her, and there was something in his gaze that made her feel even more sure of herself, something that reminded her of what they shared. "I used to think I knew what I wanted. But I was wrong. I had always been wrong. It wasn't money, or power, or anything that I could buy. I wanted what I had been missing for most of my life." He seemed to be looking into the past. To be remembering what had come before. "You saw that. When everyone else couldn't, you did. And I never asked you how."

In-joo thought about that for a long time. She had never considered that question. It had just always felt so natural to her.

The answer, when it came to her, was obvious.

"It's because we're the same," she said finally. "But you know that, don't you?"

"I do," he said. "It took me too long, but I do now."

A gentle breeze blew, and In-joo closed her eyes, letting the peace of the moment wash over her. This was why they had gone through hell. This was what they had been fighting for.

"Don't ever leave again, okay?" In-joo said. "And if you have to, take me with you. I don't care where I go. As long as I go there with you."

Do-il reached for her and took her into his arms. He didn't have to say anything. She understood what he was promising her, and she understood what he was trying to make up for. The road to the future would be as uncertain as ever. But now, at least she knew that didn't have to do it by herself.

"I love you," he said. "And I wish I had told you that sooner."

"It was worth the wait," she murmured. "I love you."

Do-il took her hand and started to lead her back from the edge of the rooftop, back toward the bedroom that they had emerged from. She followed him with a smile, though admittedly, they didn't make it back to the bedroom. She pulled Do-il back, close against her body, and then kissed him deeply, not caring if there was anyone who might be able to see them.

Let them see. She didn't have anything to hide anymore. Let the world see what she had accomplished. Let the world see how happy she was.

By the time they did make it inside, she wasn't thinking much about anything else beyond the man in her arms.

They had done enough thinking to last them a lifetime. Finally, it was time to just... be.

This was her happy ending.

When In-hye was finally released from the hospital, there was simply so much she wanted to do. She wanted to see her sisters. She wanted to see the world. She wanted to spend time with Hyo-rin, even though the two girls had been together the entire time that In-hye had been resting in the hospital.

But the first thing she had done was send for someone to get everything that had been kept in their suite at the hotel where it had all happened. Her supplies and her art were still there. She knew what the doctors had said. She knew how unlikely it was that she would ever be able to reach the heights that she had once been able to.

That was okay. Even now, she could feel the tremors in her hands. She knew that her nerves had been damaged, perhaps forever. Strangely, she didn't feel anger or despair. She just felt ready to move on.

The apartment that they had decided to rent to spend time at before leaving Los Angeles was spacious, far more than the majority of Los Angeles property. It had cost an obscene amount, but at this point, money was hardly a limiting factor for them.

For now, the apartment was still fairly empty, but their things were going to be delivered soon. In fact, that was what they were waiting for right now.

In-hye and Hyo-rin were sitting together on the small couch that they had bought shortly before moving in. The blinds on the windows were pulled back, and the sun was streaming through, casting bright rays all over the hardwood floor.

Tiny motes of dust were flitting through the air. If In-hye focused on them long enough, she could almost see the shapes that they were forming. There was a picture to be seen, if only she could make it out.

Hyo-rin had gently looped her arm through In-hye's. They were right next to each other, so close that their skin was touching. They weren't saying anything, but that was okay. The quiet was nice. They had earned that quiet. Hyo-rin had been extra protective of In-hye since the accident—but not so much as to be overbearing. It was sweet, really. It made In-hye feel cared for. And she could tell that it made Hyo-rin feel like she was making a difference.

Truthfully, she was.

There was a knock at the door. "Come in," said In-hye. She already knew who it was. The people they had hired to move the art and her supplies were supposed to be there at any minute.

The door opened, and In-hye was greeted by the sight of several uniformed men carrying large objects. She recognized several of them as the pieces she had been working on before she had been forced to stop. Some of the boxes were clearly her supplies. In-hye supposed that right now, she didn't need them. She couldn't paint properly anyway, and it would likely just frustrate her. But there was something comforting about at least having access to them.

"You can just put all of it against the wall," In-hye said.

"Are you sure?" one of the men asked in English. He was speaking loudly and slowly, as if he thought In-hye wouldn't be able to understand him.

In-hye nodded and smiled. "Just make sure all the canvases are lined up on their own, okay?"

It only took a few minutes for the job to be done. Hyo-rin tipped the men on the way out, and then, once again, they were all alone. There were four individual canvases, all covered with one large sheet. They had been wheeled in on a cart and then propped up against the wall.

"Do you want to look at them?" Hyo-rin asked. "I can move the covering if you want."

In-hye shook her head. "No, not right now. Maybe one day, when I want to remember. Right now, I think I just want to look ahead."

That was when she leaned over and kissed Hyo-rin. It was a small kiss, quick and fleeting, and when it was over, In-hye looked away, her face slightly pink, her expression bashful.

But Hyo-rin just laughed. "Are you embarrassed?"

"No! I mean, maybe. I don't know."

"I don't think I've ever seen you embarrassed," said Hyo-rin. "It's cute."

In-hye looked back at Hyo-rin. Her face was a little red too, but not from embarrassment. She was just... smiling.

"You make me happy," said In-hye. "And for a long time, I wasn't sure if I would ever find anything that did that."

Hyo-rin beamed. "I'm glad. Because I want you to be happy."

In-hye rose from the small couch and stepped into the sunbeams. "Come outside with me? I want to be in the sun. I've been in the dark for too long. It's time to do something about that."

A few moments later, the apartment was empty. Empty, except for the four large canvases that were still leaning against the wall. The cloth covering on top of them was begun to slip before the two girls had left, so it wasn't much of a surprise when it did finally fall to the ground.

There was no one there to see it, but if there had been, they would have seen four portraits. Three women and a man, each easily recognizable, and each unfinished. Perhaps they would never be finished. But in either case, they were only representations of the past, of moments that had already gone by. They could never capture the truth of how each of those people had changed and grown.

They could never show all the possibilities of the future. Or all the happiness that was still to come.

Chapter 55: Afterword

Chapter Text

I have a lot of things to say about this story, but I'll try and keep it brief, for the benefit of anyone actually reading this.

When I began writing, I had a very different ending planned. I intended for In-hye to die, and for Ward to be the one to kill her. Obviously, things changed.

There were two main reasons for this change. The first was that I just didn't feel comfortable killing off one of the only queer characters in the story. I wanted to avoid continuing that harmful trope. The second was because it just felt too mean-spirited, and not very much in line with the rest of the story.

Somewhere along the way, I decided to have Ward attempt some sort of redemption near the end. And it was only fitting that Soo-im became the final villain. To me, all of the characters are intertwined, and are all a reflection of each other's characteristics.

Every character grapples with the effects of the past and the pull of obsession. Some of them handle it better than others, and some are unable to handle it at all. I wanted to tell a story that showed how each person copes with this differently, in their own way. I wanted to continue a lot of the personal themes from the show and expand on the development that so many of them underwent. I hope I was successful.

It was very important for me to make sure that the ending was fitting for the characters and the themes of the story. I didn't want to write an ending that was miserable for no reason, and I didn't want to write a pointlessly happy fan-service ending that would invalidate everything they went through. So as I watched the pieces that I had set up fall into place, I was sure that although the ending I had chosen might be upsetting to some, it would make sense in the context of the story, and more importantly, it would feel earned.

This is your story too, and I welcome you to have your own opinions and interpretations, even if they're different than what I have in mind. I didn't create these characters—I'm just playing in another person's world. So your thoughts are no less valid than mine are.

Ultimately, this is a story about love. The Oh sisters, Do-il and In-joo, In-kyung and Jong-ho, Hyo-rin and In-hye—even Ward and his family. Most of the actions in this story happen because of love and how powerful it can be.

And that was the point of the ending. I know some people might find it upsetting, but I don't view it as a sad ending. While it may seem like In-hye has lost the most important thing to her, the truth is more complicated. What she has gained is more important to her than the ability to paint.

And the future, like she said, is far away. Anything is possible, something that the Oh sisters have seen to be true again and again.

This story was very important to me for a lot of reasons. One of the biggest is because I see so much of myself in the character of Do-il. And when I say that, I don't mean that I'm cool, rich, and improbably handsome. As much as I wish that was true, I was drawn to his character because of his flaws. And I thought it was important to tell a story that showed him not only learning from his mistakes, but also growing.

In this story, there is no one savior. Every character saves someone else, even if it's not in the most obvious way. I wanted to showcase all of their strengths in a manner that felt natural and allowed them to learn and grow with each other. I hope I did the characters justice, and I hope this story gave readers the closure that so many of them wanted at the end of the show.

It's been months of work to get to this point, and I am so happy and proud to have reached the end. Thank you to everyone who followed along—and an especially large thank you to all the people who left lovely and encouraging comments throughout the story. You made it all worth it.

I'm going to be taking a long break from writing now. But I won't be gone! I'll still be reading stories on AO3, and I'll still be active on all of my social media accounts. If you ever want to talk about anything—kdramas, kpop, other fandoms, or even just to say hello—please don't hesitate to reach out. I've been lining up a long list of potential next projects to work on, but those are for another day. Who knows what the future might bring?

I hope, if you really did read this far, that you enjoyed your time. I know that I did. Thank you, and I hope to see you all again in my next story, whatever it might be.