"=⌕ ▬▬▬▬▬▬ 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘' 𝘼𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙄𝙣𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙩
Gun was bored, that was all he could say.
Nothing was interesting to him anymore, absolutely nothing. And he wasn't interested in clubs, parties, or any type of gathering. They were simply too boring.
But even when he isn't arguing with his coworker, Kim JoonGoo, he's looking for a successor.
However, even his conquest to find a talented candidate has long become dull.
He wasn't interested in purchasing new clothing or luxurious cars, renting a yacht, or spending nights with women and drinking, there was simply nothing.
The dopamine in his brain seemed to have rotted completely.
So here he was, walking down the streets of Seoul late at night and roaming the previously crowded streets. There were very few passing vehicles and even fewer pedestrians, making it extremely quiet.
Gun was able to hear the soft buzzing of neon signs, the gentle breeze that comes and goes, and the occasional echo of his heartbeat.
And that's when he found it.
A dimly lit building with foggy windows and a rotting hand-carved door. The exterior looked antique, having a mix of bricks and wooden beams as a theme. But what caught his eye was the small gathering of what seemed to be strays, both a mix of cats and dogs, a majority being cats. They all sat in front of the closed door impatiently pawing at the door and barking and meowing alike.
Gun halted his steps, if they noticed him, would they chase after him? What if they had rabies and bit him?
It's not like he can fight animals like he fights people, though he could compare the people he knew to dogs.. No, no, he threw away the thought.
Then the door suddenly clicked. The sound of a lock turning momentarily filled the quiet night.
He watched as the door creaked open, revealing a tall, young male. The man must've been around his age, but what caught his attention was his expression.
It's not an easy expression to describe. It looked like a resting, neutral portrait, with a timid gaze. It looked rather pitiful.
The stranger slowly crouched down as the strays began to jump at his legs, pawing and staring at the two large food bowls in his hands.
But then he noticed Gun.
The two stared at each other, waiting for the other to speak.
The stranger seemed to carefully eye Gun's figure, seemingly studying his clothing.
Gun was wearing a simple black turtle neck with a long dark grey coat over it, his hands already stuffed into the deep pockets, hiding his expensive watch. It matched his thin black slacks and typical expensive black dress shoes.
While staring in return, the stranger wore an unbranded white t-shirt, a pair of grey joggers, and a simple pair of well-worn sneakers. The colors seemed worn, they looked faded instead of vibrant and eye-catching.
"Oh, hello." The stranger awkwardly greeted, unsure of what to say. He rarely seen others out so late, he was used to being the only one out, creating a routine to feed the local strays at night. It was also because he was so restless in bed and needed a past time.
"Hello." Gun responded after a hesitant pause. They stayed silent again.
"Are you lost? " The stranger spoke up, his voice sounded somewhat raspy. Noticing their own voice, the stranger awkwardly cleared his throat.
"Lost? " Gun repeated slowly, in a hesitant tone, "Do people often go missing or something? " They paused again, listening to the gentle breeze pass between them.
"You.. just look lost." The stranger's brows knitted together, it was a small difference, but his face now conveyed a more readable expression.
Was it sympathy?
Though it was an interesting comment, one Gun had never heard, he questioned how a person could possibly look lost or to even convey the emotion of being lost.
Would it be Goo stupid face? Goo never knew what was happening, he was rather slow. Could that be it? Did he look 'lost' like Goo?
Gun's expression quickly turned sour at the thought. To be like Goo. How absolutely, utterly sad. He frowned to himself as he found stared at the stranger again.
It seemed to be a reoccurring theme between them.
"Why are you out so late? " The stranger asked once more.
"I could ask you the same." Gun remarked almost instantly.
"I couldn't sleep." It was a plain response, Gun wasn't expecting anything out of the ordinary.
"And you expect to fall asleep.. outside? "
The stranger blinked slowly at the jab. "I don't expect to fall asleep at all, and aren't you having the same trouble? " He questioned Gun.
"You could say so, I suppose." Gun shrugged it off, he didn't have the best sleep schedule in his line of work.
The stranger visibly tensed as he sucked in a breath, "Do you want to come inside and.. talk? " The stranger proposed. Although he himself, sounded extremely conflicted about his own offer.
Gun paused, clearly caught off-guard, "Sure."
Maybe it was the exhaustion speaking, but this whole run-in with such an odd stranger actually made him want to chat. Could it be because it was something nonthreatening for once?
The man had his fair share of relaxing and off-duty days, but he never seemed truly relaxed. Maybe this stranger could entertain him for a moment, it wasn't as if he had anywhere to be right now.
And so, Gun followed the man inside, carefully avoiding the animals at the doorway. It was very stupid of him to follow a stranger into an old worn-down building so late at night, but he was one of the best fighters in both Korea and Japan for a reason. He thinks he can defend himself, thank you.
He highly doubted this complete stranger would yank him in and strangle him to death. But he did seem to be on the fit spectrum, just not the-type-to-kill-someone fit.
The interior of the store had matched the exterior, it still seemed run-down and old. It looked as if it were an old café before being turned into a studio.
The first notable thing Gun noticed was the strong scent of clay and rubber.
The second was a wall covered in messy sketches on his left, they were unorganized and plastered in an unorderly manner, overlapping each other for more space. Some had bright sticky notes, written in sharpie were comments of fixing or potentially changing a design.
Right below the sketches were clay sculptures that followed the concept art above themselves. They were all incomplete and only portrayed the head to just below the chest with incomplete arms that were just cutoff.
Gun absently circled the studio, staring at the pieces and slowly noticing a unique pattern.
All their expressions matched the stranger's, they all seemed sad and uncertain.
Then he paused when he reached the end of the wall, staring at the sculpture in front of him with a perplexed expression.
"Are you interested? " The stranger asked as he walked towards Gun, the wooden floorboards creaking underneath him as he got closer.
"Why do you make it sound as if no one ever was? " Gun turned to stare at the man, noting he was a few inches taller than himself.
"I guess no one really is."
Gun hummed as he turned back at the sculpture, it seemed to be the most completed compared to the others.
"What's your name? " Gun asked without looking back, too occupied with the art in front of him.
The stranger stayed silent, deeply in thought at such a simple question, causing suspicion to arise within Gun.
Gun slowly and quietly turned back towards the stranger, taking his hands from his coat's pockets and letting them stand at his sides.
The stranger in-turn was staring at the floor. His posture seemed relaxed and calm, or was it exhaustion and disappointment? Expressions aren't so easy to read.
"I forgot it."
Gun's sunglasses almost slid off his face in surprise, partially revealing his 'unique' eyes.
He forgot his name.
Did he think Gun would believe that? It was too absurd.
"You forgot your name." Gun repeated as the other lifted his head to peer back at him, nodding once in confirmation.
"I don't hear it often." He muttered as he slightly scrunched up his nose in what seemed to be an attempted scowl, though his features didn't let it show too much.
"Absurd." Gun quickly quipped as he crossed his arms, "What would I call you then? "
"Anything works."
This guy was just pitiful, and it annoyed Gun.
To forget your own name? It's something so shocking it made Gun question what type of idiot would believe such a claim.
Has no one called his name before?
"What are you, some sort of gangster? " Gun patronized before sighing to himself, lightly shaking his head back and forth.
"Then how about M/N? " It was simple and direct. It had no hidden meaning and was jut the first thing Gun thought of.
"Alright."
"What? Just like that? " Gun tilted his head, staring at the now named stranger.
M/N rose a small brow in return, "Should I protest? "
And then they stared at each other in silence, again.
"You're a strangely dull person."
"I know."
"=⌕ ▬▬▬▬▬▬ 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗣𝗧𝗘𝗥 𝗢𝗡𝗘' Complete