Chapter Text
Hanul got out of the elevator and headed for the porter's desk. The man, Mr. Ahn, was already standing and looking him up and down, a bit concerned. He said nothing, waiting for Hanul to get close enough to start the inevitable conversation himself.
"Wait before you go there. Jaeyi needs a moment to himself. In the meantime, you can inform Dokgo’s assistant so he can start taking care of the old man's affairs and begin preparations for the funeral."
He didn't want to add the last part, but it was best to make it clear.
The man nodded sourly. His hands shook slightly as he reached for the phone. The information Hanul just threw at him must have been a lot.
Hanul always assumed that MK Entertainment's front desk staff were ready for anything, but Mr. Ahn had worked there for barely a year. The death of the new boss might have been difficult to digest.
"Can you do it?" he asked before the man made a call. He didn't want to undermine his professionalism, but it wasn't that urgent. The man could take a few minutes to gather his thoughts.
"Yes," the man replied, trying to sound emotionless. Yet he still didn’t make a call. Instead he whispered quietly, "This is the second time since I got this position."
Hanul blinked before realization hit him. He forgot that Cha Minkyu and Gil Boksoon's fight took place in the same building only a few months ago. He didn't even consider that Mr. Ahn could have been on shift that day. For some reason, it felt like an eternity passed since then.
"Will you be needing medical attention, Mantis-ssi?" the question surprised him, and only at that moment, Hanul remembered about his leg. It hurt, but it wasn't bleeding heavily, so it wasn't very urgent. His clothes were ruined, and he cursed himself for taking the subway. He would be quite a sight on the way home.
He didn't really want to go back, but he had nowhere else to go-
There was one person who should know about what happened.
"Do you have a spare car? Without a driver."
Mr. Ahn nodded and pulled the keys out of the desk drawer.
"In the underground garage, space A36."
"Thank you."
"The first aid kit is in the trunk," Mr. Ahn said before taking the phone back into his hand and this time pressing the number.
Hanul didn’t want to be there for that conversation.
He sent Sumin a quick text informing her that he was alive, and as promised, he would see her the next day. She must have known that he didn't feel like talking with her about everything yet, so she didn’t call him back. She just sent him ‘see you tomorrow, boss :)’ and that was it. Knowing how much assassins liked to gossip, she would have a full story by the time they saw each other.
But there was someone he wanted to see. After all, it's been a while.
It took him a few hours to get to a small village and then another hour to walk through the forest to finally reach his destination. He really had to pull some strings and call in some favors to get that location, but when a small house came into view, he wanted to laugh at how dramatic the sight was. The man could just as easily have hidden away in some apartment in a big city, but he chose this place. Seemingly abandoned and far away from civilization. Perfect to dwell in self-pity.
At least the older man didn’t choose to hide abroad.
And the lock in the old door was easy to pick.
Knowing that the resident had surely heard his arrival, he took off his shoes and threw himself on the living room couch. He might have broken into the house, but he wasn't rude enough to enter the bedroom. Besides, he didn't know where it was, and snooping around the house without permission would have been truly disrespectful.
After twenty minutes, he knew they were playing a game, and the one who would break first would lose. Hanul was usually a very impatient person, and in normal circumstances, he would have made a move already, but his opponent underestimated how emotionally and mentally drained he was.
It took another ten minutes before he finally heard a movement. Someone definitely just got out of bed and was making his way to him. A moment later, a door to his left opened, and the resident appeared in the doorway.
Hanul lustered the man up and down.
He never saw Cha Minkyu in a t-shirt and sweatpants before.
They stared at each other for a moment without speaking, and Hanul knew it was another competition of who would give up first. He also knew it would be him because the old man was too good at giving disapproving glares.
“You look good for a dead guy,” he said in greeting, “I mean, it's obvious that Boksoon-noona rejected you for real this time, but it's not as bad as I thought it would be.”
"You're staining my furniture with blood."
Hanul looked at the growing puddle of red on the sofa next to him, frowning. It seemed his quick bandage didn’t hold up as he traveled through the woods. His wound clearly reopened, but he didn’t make a move to fix it. The person who did it to him was suddenly on his mind. He felt like crying again.
“Dokgo-hyung is dead.”
There was a long, silent moment before Minkyu hummed and leaned against the doorframe. He didn’t say anything. He also looked as if he was expecting it.
Hanul decided to visit because he felt that Cha Minkyu would understand. It was him or Boksoon-noona, and even if Hanul preferred Gil Boksoon, she had her own life and Hanul respected that she didn’t want to be bothered with this stuff anymore. Minkyu-hyung was different. He chose to live as a hermit these days. Hanul doubted the old man had better things to do than to listen to his sorrows. Even if it was the middle of the night.
He made himself more comfortable on the couch before speaking up again.
“I was on holiday for two weeks. When I came back and learned about everything, I wondered, ‘How could things fuck up so much in that short time?’ Now I know.”
He signed, looking around the room. His gaze stopped on the bloodied Rubik’s Cube on the counter. He knew that it had something to do with the older man's first meeting with Boksoon-noona. For over thirty years, Cha Minkyu busied himself with that. He always had it with him. And even after everything, he still kept it.
Hanul wondered if he would also end up like that when he was old. He doubted, considering everything that had happened just a few hours ago, but some people said that Minkyu and he were similar. Did he have something that could be used as an object of worship that Jaeyi got him?
He glanced at Minkyu, who still didn’t move.
Hanul didn't have anything better to do than annoy him a bit. Normally he would try to stop himself because Minkyu was scary as fuck but something was different that day. That day he didn't care.
“You really couldn’t kill her? You had to know that your company would go to shit after your death. Boksoon-noona is really cool, but it couldn’t just be all for her, right? Or maybe you just really didn’t want to keep your promise to me and faked your death, huh?”
“Are you judging me? I saw the video, you know.”
Hanul fell silent. He knew exactly what video Minkyu was talking about. Honestly, he didn’t think that it would be recorded, but he didn’t care. If it would make Jaeyi happy to be better than him, he would gladly fake losing and announce it to the whole world. He really didn’t care about it. He was happy when he was with her.
He just didn’t think it mattered to her that much.
"Fuck," he couldn't stop himself from muttering.
Now his relationship with Jaeyi would never be the same. And Halbae was dead. He didn’t want that to happen. He knew that it was a possibility, but he still hoped for the best possible result when he went there. They almost made it, but in the end, it turned out that he just didn’t get either Jaeyi or Dokgo. They understood each other, but he couldn’t understand them. Everything fucked itself spectacularly.
Suddenly, he sat up straight.
It didn’t fuck itself up.
Someone helped it.
A rich, spoiled child.
That fucker Benjamin Jo.
“Motherfucker,” he muttered and got up from the couch, “I’m sorry, hyung, I just realised I have to kill someone."
“Hanul-ah.”
Minkyu’s voice was calm but firm, and Hanul could ignore it. He stopped, turning around.
The older man finally made a move. He directed his steps towards the other door in the room. After opening them, Hanul could see that it was the bathroom. Minkyu seemed to search for something before reappearing with a white box and a towel.
“Fix yourself up first. Use the bathroom. I will give you some clothes,” he said, looking at Hanul's ruined suit with distaste, “Think it over, don't act in a hurry,” everything he was holding was handed to Hanul, who took it, slightly taken aback, “If they are involved in Dokgo’s death, make it hurt.”
Hanul looked up, and their eyes met.
“Sure thing, daepyo-nim,” he nodded, “Oh, sorry, I shouldn’t call you that anymore, you're out of business after all. I will do my best, ahjussi.”
“Watch it, Maggot.”
Hanul’s expression turned into fake seriousness.
“Did you fully recover? On the CCTV footage, the cut seemed quite deep. I doubt it healed completely. I could probably take you down now.”
Minkyu huffed and his lips lifted in a small smile. He stood up straighter as if ready to take the challenge. Hanul suddenly remembered the rumor that went around during his training days. That Cha Minkyu could rip someone’s heart out with a bare hand. He always doubted it, but at the same time, he wasn’t really that curious to find out.
“However, you’re being really nice offering me your stuff, and I’m not an ungrateful asshole. Thank you, hyung-nim.”
He bowed his head slightly and passed around the man to get to the bathroom.
Before he shut the door behind himself, he stopped. There was one more thing he thought he should say. Because even if he was never a big fan of Cha Minhee, she still was Minkyu's family. His only family, from what he knew.
“Hyung,” he started getting the man's attention again, “About your sister, I’m sorry for your loss.”
Minkyu nodded but said nothing.
Before it turned really awkward, Hanul closed the door.