The corridor is lit with golden LED lights like a pathway leading to a dinner date. Wooden consoles arranged in a stairway pattern hold a few books and delicate decor pieces on the right with a peg for hanging coats and a large shoe cabinet opposite to it. Lavender and a tint of cherry blossoms and citrus, just enough to tickles one's senses disperse around the area.
Haneul guides Dae Ho to the living room, gesturing him to sit on the grey modular sofa. The space is styled in modern design, minimal but high-end and chic. A large home cinema stands accost at the front, glass centerpiece parallel to it, placed on a zebra print rug. Dae Ho sinks into the couch, neck resting on the back and eyes straining at the black, metal caged chandeliers above him.
"What...what did you mean last night?" Haneul inquires, taking a seat not far from the other.
Dae Ho sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. "Remember the car chase we had?"
The doctor nods slowly with a pensive face. "Is he—"
"He's alive," Dae Ho cuts in before Haneul can form any assumptions. "He's been confined since that day. Vee is a tough one, all this time he's been waiting for a signal. We received a note, it said, 'you save some, you lose some'. And you didn't pick up Yoon's call so I had to run to make sure you and Soomin were safe."
"You should rest assured since all's well now. There isn't any reason for you to stay here and check on us. And that note doesn't point to us. You and I don't share any sort of relationship anymore."
Dae Ho bites his tongue, an icky taste glazing his senses. Intentional or not, he'd like to rebut Haneul's statement but he needs to compose himself. He couldn't lose his cool and cause a scene, igniting the already raging hostility the doctor has for him at the moment. "I...I know. But just in case, I want to be here. You can take Soomin and sleep in your room together and even lock it."
Haneul doesn't reply, pressing his lips into a thin line. He stands up, rubbing his eyes and adjusting his shirt. "There's a guest room at the right corner after the corridor. Just sleep there." But before he could leave, he's pulled back.
"Here." Dae Ho grabs the doctor's hand and places an object in his palm, this calloused fingers closing the doctor's around it.
His eyes widen, frantic movements displaying his panic. "W-what is this?"
"A proof that I don't have any wrong intentions. You can use it for self-defense if I do anything suspicious."
"B-but—this is a gun!"
Being around each other has become a cluster of messy emotions and actions. One moment it's as if diving into the past and being comfortable, and the other times being apprehensive and acrimonious. The sole mistake of shooting a man in front of Haneul may cause Dae Ho a lifetime friendship but it's alright. Even if it isn't, there's nothing he can do to indemnify for what he's done. Every action bears consequences and accepting this is his. He'll one day come to eventually acknowledge it just like he'd driven himself away from Haneul's life years ago. Or it could pile up on the never-ending doom of regrets he has, but it didn't matter anymore. The voices in his head would accompany him.
"Goodnight, Haneul." Dae Ho retreats to the corridor the doctor had pointed out before.
Haneul wants to trust his former friend, understand his doings but it's not easy when he knows bits and pieces and Dae Ho isn't much of a help in assisting him. He feels the gun under his fingertips, the man had handed him the weapon as if it was nothing. What if Dae Ho had another pistol with him? Would he use it on him? Haneul dismisses the thought, shivers running up his spine. He drops the gun on the couch and proceeds to Soomin's room, scooping the girl in his arms and entering his room after picking the weapon back up. His daughter is in deep slumber after a tiring day of playing and Haneul is appreciative of it.
And the night passes, one awake due to the anxious beating of his heart and the other tosses and turns in an unfamiliar bed, his hands missing the glass bottle he holds onto every night.
"Maybe a sip or two wouldn't be so bad," Dae Ho whispers to himself, eyeing the mini-refrigerator aligned with a wooden desk in front of him, a television above them. He sits up, removing the comforter and moving to the edge of the bed. He pauses, hands rubbing over his face. He couldn't let alcohol take over and replay the event in the underground once again. But the thought of not having his thirst quenched jitters him. He plays with his fingers, pacing around the room. A distraction is what he needed but he couldn't leave the room, Haneul would be uncomfortable.
The ex-model switches on the television facing the bed, volume low, and grabs a magazine from the side table. He's watching a comedy movie but doesn't have the will to laugh. Not when he's aware of the presence of the fridge. The more conscious he is about it, the further he's drawn to it. Somehow Dae Ho roots himself to watch the screen for about an hour but before he knows it, he's kneeling and opening the refrigerator door.
"Ah." He doesn't know if it's a breath of relief or misery, finding only water bottles and juice boxes along with assorted chocolate bars. No alcohol in sight. Dae Ho clamps his mouth shut, swallowing saliva and licking his lips in anticipation at the thought of unopened, discarded beer cans outside Haneul's apartment, the ones he made him toss into the bin.
"No, no. I can't do that, there's a child in the house." The fighter chants, anxiously walking back and forth in the room once again. Not thinking about alcohol is easier when he's busy or in presence of someone, but in the silence of the night when he's alone, it's either booze or the bottomless pit of woeful thoughts and past events. And he has never been good at untangling the latter.
Dae Ho curls himself in the corner of the large bed, sheets smelling like jasmine softener. He nuzzles his nose into it, an arm going under the pillow. And when the first ray of sun hits the window, sleep does embrace him. Silly, how the night brings loneliness and emptiness at its wake, but the morning brings warmth and is inviting. Nights instill uneasiness and irritation for people like Dae Ho, who wait for daybreak to draw away the monsters in their minds that lurk during darkness when the moon is at its highest.
"Uncle Jiswoo!" A voice chirps, jolting Dae Ho out of his sleep. He sits up straight in alert, a habit he had picked up over the years.
"Soomin...?" He breathes out, voice an octave deeper, fingers coming up to rub his eyes. It takes him a split second to adjust to his surroundings, a yawn escaping his lips. The screensaver on the television displays 9:23 A.M. He slept for three hours and Dae Ho wonders what a child is doing up this early in the morning.
"I woke up for bathroom and saw light coming from here," Soomin says as if she's read his mind. "Uncle Jiswoo, can we pway?"
Children sure are curious and energetic at unholy timings.
"I'm not uncle Jisoo."
"Huh?" Soomin puts her hands on either side of her waist with a huff. "You are."
"Does uncle Jisoo have this?" Dae Ho pulls up his sleeve to reveal his tattoos. The preschool girl stares at them and shakes her head.
"Does he have this?" He points to the scar on his temple. Another shake of the head.
"I'm Dae Ho."
"Tae Wo..?"
"No. Dae Ho." The older man repeats.
"T—"
"Dae, Dae... a D," Dae Ho stresses on the syllable.
"Uncle Dae Dae!" Soomin claps her hands together at the achievement, smiling widely.
"Yes, now say uncle Dae Ho."
"Uncle Dae Dae!"
"Dae Ho."
"Nu-uh, uncle Dae Dae!" Soomin doesn't relent, expectedly looking at the other. "You are uncle Dae Dae."
"Ugh, never mind," Dae Ho groans, standing up. "Your hearing is as selective as your father's."
"Uncle Dae Dae, can we pway now?" Soomin pulls at his hoodie with pleading eyes.
The girl makes it hard to be mad at her but Dae Ho still lets out a tired sigh. "Did you eat?"
"No, Appa is slweeping."
"Okay, I'll make breakfast then." Dae Ho freshens up first then proceeds to the kitchen with Soomin trailing behind him. She seats herself on the dining chair.
"I want chocowate."
"No, an omelette sandwich is what you're eating."
"But I wa—"
"Soomin!" A panicked voice cuts in from outside and Dae Ho's back straightens at the tone. Perhaps he shouldn't have left the room nor should he have spent time with Haneul's daughter.
"Minnie! where are you?"
"Appa, we're in the kitchwen!" Soomin yells, not moving an inch.
A figure then dashes into the kitchen, Haneul in his bed hair running to Soomin. "A-are you alright?" He leans down to her level, hiding the gun he's holding behind his back. "I thought..." he pauses, eyes snapping to Dae Ho.
"Uncle Dae Dae is making me breakfast and then we'll pway." Soomin informs her father delightedly.
"Uncle Dae Dae?"
"Yes! He said he's not uncle Jiswoo because there are dwawings on his hand."
Haneul pats her head and stands back up. "I'm sorry, I just panicked." He addresses Dae Ho, earning nothing but lips pressed in a thin line.
"Don't worry," the fighter says after a pregnant silence. "I didn't feed her anything yet. I'll be out then."
The single father sighs. "I didn't imply anything like that. I was just worried when I didn't see her on the bed."
"No, you don't have to justify anything."
"This is my home and it's disrespectful if I let you go without eating. So sit here till I make something." Haneul offers, moving to the refrigerator.
"No—"
"Park Dae Ho, do not make me repeat myself, you hear me?" The doctor's voice is stern, commanding.
And Dae Ho shuts up, taking a seat beside Soomin.
"I don't know how long you're going to do this but Minnie has holidays so she stays with my parents till I pick her up. They have tight security so there's no chance of anyone harming us." Haneul says. He switches on the elective stove and places a pan on it, pouring some oil. "And I'm at the hospital till evening, surrounded by people so you can go home and rest till then." He cracks an egg, a sizzling sound filling the kitchen. "And by the looks of it—" he side glances Dae Ho, inserting bread into the toaster. "—you haven't slept well last night and you're in the same clothes since two days."
On instinct, Dae Ho eyes his attire, trying to subtly sniff it. "I...yeah, okay. I'll do that." He takes the plates Haneul offers him and Soomin.
'But I can't rest till I know this is over.' Dae Ho thinks to himself but doesn't voice out his concerns. It's already a favor Haneul is doing by letting him stay near them.
"Don't sit outside my apartment like a beggar. Just ring the bell when you arrive at night."
"Oh..." Dae Ho hadn't expected that. He didn't think the doctor would consider letting him back inside once again. After breakfast, he leaves for his place with Haneul and Soomin, coming back at night.
Tired and barely sleeping without alcohol in his system for the first time in years, the fighter struggles to keep his thoughts at bay, suffers when his stomach growls with want.
It's two hours after midnight when Haneul enters the room Dae Ho has been staying over in. "There's something I wanted to—" the doctor stops, squinting at the sleeping man. He places a knee on the bed and observes him.
Dae Ho thrashes on the bed, sweaty hair sticking to his forehead and tears cascading down his cheeks. His parted lips let out small whines and grunts, his jaw slack.
Haneul stills looking at him, his heartbeat rising a tad bit. "Dae Ho...?"
No response.
The blue haired man shakes him slowly at first but then picks up speed but the other still doesn't wake up. Haneul knows what's happening.
Night terror. Dae Ho's facing a night terror, not a mere nightmare.
"Dae Ho, you have to wake up!" Haneul shakes him vigorously, a desperate attempt to bring him out. He's shaking him and the next thing he knows, he's pushed and pinned to the bed.
"D-Dae—what—" two iron-like grip hands wrap around his neck, choking him.
"I'll kill you!" Park Dae Ho roars, his fingers digging into Haneul's neck.