WONWOO
the mild march air is still too cold for jeon won woo, even with the three layers he's wearing. he readjusts his sweater and pulls his jacket tighter around his torso in hopes of warming up. he feels for his glasses to make sure they're still there; his face is so numb he can't feel them anymore.
next to him, mingyu rolls his eyes. "i told you to bring another layer. you always get cold." he pulls a blue scarf—the same one it always is—from his pocket and roughly wraps it around wonwoo's neck.
"i didn't think they'd take so long," he huffs, ignoring yet another passive-aggressive action from the younger.
"i bet vernon's messing with them again. you know how he is." vernon is a surprisingly devious being. he likes playing games—especially with the police—but he also likes to be subtle about his actions, just to get in their head.
currently, wonwoo and mingyu are waiting by their getaway vehicle, an older sports car handed down from mingyu's uncle. they're waiting for a signal from either seungcheol or vernon before starting the car, which means they're waiting in the cold and wonwoo's unhappy about it.
"when we get home, i'll make you ramen, okay?" mingyu tries, but wonwoo feels like it's more to get him to shut up.
wonwoo's nose subconsciously scrunches as he contemplates the offer. "fine."
a door slamming open catches their attention, and wonwoo sees their eldest and youngest bursting through it. realising that that is their signal, he jumps into gear and starts the ignition. the other two slide in, and he steps on the gas pedal, taking off without another thought.
as they race through the city's streets, seungcheol holds up a thin stack of papers clipped together, a devilish grin on his face. "we've completed our collection."
their 'collection' is the files of the agents, detectives, and investigators trying to catch a group of criminals they've named perilous, a group that consists of seungcheol, wonwoo, mingyu, and vernon. some occasional help comes with the names yin and yang—their true identities are still a mystery.
mingyu whoops beside wonwoo. while vernon is the devious one, it was wonwoo's idea to steal the files. he doesn't like not having the upper hand. if their opponents know about them, he thinks they should have inside information, too.
they aimlessly drive around for a while—with the idea of losing anyone possibly tailing them. wonwoo eventually pulls into an alley, and they climb out. the entrance to their hideout is far enough that it's inconspicuous but close enough that they can escape if need be.
their hideout is an abandoned warehouse, but they only occupy a small section of it. they've managed to make it as homely as possible, with worn mattresses and old, mismatched furniture. they have a couple of portable stoves they use for cooking and staying warm, and the plumbing and electricity usually work well enough, miraculously. they've figured out a way to generate power without paying for it or alerting the authorities of their location.
one of the rooms in the back has been transformed into their office. it has a metal table with the other files set neatly on top and four chairs placed around it. pinned to the walls are photographs and handwritten notes about everyone from the police task force they're keeping an eye on.
"before we get started, i'm making ramen," mingyu declares as they walk into their makeshift kitchen.
fifteen minutes later, each of them is holding a steaming bowl of noodles as they take their places around the table. they carefully lay out the nine files side by side, a dim lightbulb hanging precariously overhead.
lee ji hoon, nicknamed woozi; age twenty-five, korean
yoon jeong han; age twenty-six, korean
hong ji soo, also called joshua; age twenty-six, korean american
lee seok min, nicknamed dokyeom or dk; age twenty-five, korean
boo seung kwan; age twenty-four, korean
kwon soon young, nicknamed hoshi; age twenty-six, korean
wen jun hui; age twenty-six, chinese
xu ming hao; age twenty-four, chinese
lee chan, nicknamed dino; age twenty-three, korean
the files contain everything about the individuals, from basic information to family and friends to any criminal offences that were swept under the rug. wonwoo thinks it's a little ironic how the police are the supposed good guys when so many of them have buried or sealed records.
none of the nine has big offences, just petty theft or breaking and entering. wonwoo remembers seeing the file of a cop who had killed a suspect with intent and not only roamed free but still had his job. for wonwoo, a small part of the reason why he does what he does is because of people like that.
the first files they ever stole were their own. when two people they only know as 'yin' and 'yang' got roped into their antics, they also took their files. now, with fifteen stolen files, their collection is complete.
yin and yang's files are by far the thinnest. virtually nothing about them is known by perilous, and even less by the police. the duo shows up in the direst of situations, effectively helping perilous out of danger. they almost never stick around and always cover their faces, just like perilous. any photos of perilous are blurry, but it's like yin and yang don't physically exist.
as they eat, only three of them are drinking in the new information. mingyu is noisily drinking up the broth from his ramen right into wonwoo's ear. wonwoo is pretty sure the younger is purposely sitting too close to him just to be a nuisance.
"is this really necessary?" he asks with a raised eyebrow and an unimpressed expression as he looks at mingyu. he would probably look scarier if it weren't for his foggy lenses.
mingyu smiles before taking an especially loud slurp and says very plainly, "yes."
wonwoo clenches his jaw and elbows the younger, which is met by a hiss and a slap to the head. he ignores the hand that then rests gently at the base of his neck and the soft breathing that's way too close to his face. he very much tries to focus on the words in front of him instead.
a detail seems to catch vernon's eye. "hold on, look at this." he points at a line of one profile. "i'm pretty sure i went to school with him."
"lee ji hoon," wonwoo repeats, looking over. "i'm not totally sure, but the name sounds familiar to me, too."
"he was always interested in music. i wonder how he ended up as a cop," vernon finishes his thought.
"do you think he remembers you?" seungcheol asks.
"probably not. other than being 'the weird kid,' i didn't have much of a presence in university."
"regardless, he has our names and information about us," mingyu adds. "if they're good enough, they'll be able to catch us."
"yes, but so do we. and our advantage is that we know what they look like," seungcheol says. "i really wish there was a way to get in contact with yin and yang. i bet they could help us figure out what our next move should be."
"what do you mean?" vernon wonders, now scraping the tip of his knife against the top of his wooden chair.
"well, now that we know their identities, shouldn't we play a little game?"
the grins on the others' faces are vaguely ominous, and wonwoo doesn't like them one bit. seungcheol loves chaos, vernon enjoys messing with people, and mingyu is just there for the ride, soaking in everything he can—which just happens to be crime and adrenaline. wonwoo is usually the voice of reason.
seungcheol was declared the leader when they first formed due to his sense of responsibility and levelheadedness (and a dash of chaotic behaviour), so it only slightly surprises wonwoo that he would say such a thing. he expects a game from vernon because that's just how he is, but mingyu is who worries wonwoo the most. the younger is unpredictable in many ways, but his affinity toward kleptocracy has proven to be an issue in the past.
"i think it's a bad idea," wonwoo states with a frown, pushing at his glasses as they slowly slip down his nose. "knowing you guys, it won't go well, and yin and yang will have to, once again, save our asses. besides, mingyu always steals something else whenever we do anything, and it's usually not even useful! how can an antique spoon help us with anything besides eating soup? you don't even like soup!"
"it's not my fault i simply enjoy having things," mingyu retorts. "and just so you know, that spoon is probably worth a lot of money, so maybe i'll sell it and not share any of the reward with you. i also do like soup, just not yours. perhaps i should teach you. it can be a bonding experience."
"oh, shut up," he snaps back. "i'm so close to strangling you, and i mean that as nothing less than a threat." his clarification doesn't stop the small, barely noticeable smirk that's trying to make its way across mingyu's lips. "don't fucking look at me like that, you asshat."
"come on, wonwoo. everything will be fine," interjects seungcheol assuringly—though wonwoo thinks it's a little late—with a smile that makes wonwoo somehow even more uneasy. he doesn't like this seungcheol, the one who easily matches vernon's devious energy.
"if it's three against one, there's nothing i can do," he relents, sighing so hard the sheets in front of him flutter. "fine. whatever."
as much as he loathes this rash, poorly thought-through idea, he likes not knowing things even less. he grumbles unhappily at his own resignation and takes his bowl to the kitchen. "i think i'm done for the night. i'll see you all tomorrow."
in his sleepwear and curled up on his mattress, wonwoo tries to turn his brain off. he doesn't want to think about anything anymore; he just wants to go to sleep.
but of course, the universe isn't that kind.
"hey, wonwoo," comes mingyu's voice, too close to his head once again. "are you still awake?"
"no," he grunts, shifting to find a more comfortable position.
"okay." there's a tense silence. "i was serious, by the way."
wonwoo would roll his eyes if they weren't closed because that could be referring to anything. mingyu has said so many things over the years, and plenty in just the past hour. he debates responding before turning over and glaring at the younger. he doesn't bother putting his glasses back on, leaving them in their spot on the floor.
"about what?" he bites. "i'm not going to strangle you, but only because i bet you'd like that. for the last time, we aren't going to be 'the hottest criminal couple, even more notorious than bonnie and clyde' because we don't kill people."
he pulls the last one from the not-so-deeply buried recesses of his mind. it's one of the oddest things mingyu's ever said to him, and he thinks about it at least once a week.
"please stop bringing that up, i'm still so embarrassed by it," mingyu whines. "i was a very different person when we met." there's another pause before he adds, "but you didn't say we weren't a couple."
"maybe i will murder someone after all."
"wait, hold on." mingyu sits on the floor in front of wonwoo's mattress, and he swears the younger's face softens just the tiniest fraction, but he blames it on the fact that he can't see shit. "i'm sorry. it's a habit. or a reflex or something? but i meant that i was serious about teaching you how to cook."
"why?" is all wonwoo can think to ask.
"well...i'm not really sure why. it just feels like something i should do."
"that's perhaps one of the worst explanations you've ever given, and you have a sea full of them."
he hums in agreement. "is that a no, then?"
"it's a maybe."
four juvenile delinquents are far too eager to take up the job perilous has proposed. all they have to do is cause a scene and be taken in by the police. they're to pretend they're the sought-after crime quartet just to mess with the cops and perhaps throw them further off perilous' trail.
wonwoo still detests the idea, but he can't help his curiosity. what reaction will they get? will these kids pull it off? there's only one way to find out, but it's still days from now because mingyu has decided he wants to spend a couple of days teaching wonwoo how to cook.
"you remember that i didn't actually agree to this, right?" he asks the younger, even though he knows it's a fruitless effort. mingyu is the type of person to stand by his thoughts and actions; he's not easily swayed by others. as annoying as his stubbornness can be, wonwoo can't help but be a little awed by it.
"yeah, but i know that if i didn't make you, you never would."
wonwoo can't argue because that is correct. "okay, fine. what are we making?"
"well, actually, since i thought this was a big deal, i asked a friend for a favour." he stops talking, and wonwoo gives him a semi-interested look—enough for him to continue his explanation, at least. "you remember my friend seonghwa? i'm sure i've mentioned him before; we've known each other for a while. anyway, he and his little group live in a pretty nice house just outside of seoul, and i asked if we could borrow their kitchen for a while. i thought it would be better to learn in a place with appliances that, you know, actually function. and the fact that they have ingredients and proper utensils."
to be honest, wonwoo never really listens when mingyu talks about things that don't relate to their work. sure, he responds to the dumb lines he's given and will tune in if he finds it worth knowing, but he doesn't really know all that much about mingyu's life before joining perilous. in other words, he has no idea who seonghwa is.
someone nudges his side, and he forces his eyes to refocus on the boy before him. it takes a minute for anything mingyu had said to process, leaving them to stare at each other—one with a very blank expression and the other with one that could be taken as hopeful, expectant, or even nervous.
"what?" is what he manages to say. he's pretty sure it's the least intelligent he's ever sounded, and he hates it.
mingyu simplifies his speech like he's talking to a child. "we're going to cook in a real kitchen."
wonwoo's eyes narrow, his nose scrunches, and his top lip curls upward. he doesn't say anything.
"okay, i didn't realise you were so averse to the idea. we don't have to if you really don't want to," he says, and wonwoo swears he hears dejection in the tone.
"no," he sighs, "that's not it. i just don't understand why. and also, you didn't answer my original question of what we're making."
the younger huffs loudly, crossing his arms across his broad chest. wonwoo's pretty sure he's pouting, and he has to stop his heart from shutting down (though he doesn't know from what).
"are you trying to be difficult? or are you just getting back at me for all of—well, everything?"
"yes." wonwoo can't help the slight grin that escapes his control. he does his best to hide it by covering his mouth with his hand as he pushes his glasses up.
"okay, i get it. as for why, i just want to—for some reason that i can't name. and for what we're making, it's a surprise."
☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎
wonwoo and mingyu are standing in the biggest—and not to mention cleanest—kitchen he's ever been in. granted, he hasn't been in many, but compared to theirs back at the warehouse, anything else is instantly classified as glamorous. the counters are smooth and spotless, the cabinets and drawers are meticulously organised, and the fridge and pantry are full of all different kinds of foods—some of which wonwoo's never seen in his life.
sitting in spinning chairs at the island are seonghwa and hongjoong as mingyu introduces them. wonwoo is baffled by how freely mingyu talks about their work, mentioning some of their past jobs and almost spilling the details of their upcoming one.
seonghwa seems to notice the outraged look on his face. "for context, we used to be pirates. i guess we still technically are; we just spend most of our time here instead. and we've known mingyu for a very long time, so we won't tell anyone if that's what you're worried about."
wonwoo doesn't think that makes it better, but he supposes it explains a little. he hums in response and traces patterns on the counter with a finger.
"well, we'll let you work now. let us know if there's anything we can do or get for you," says hongjoong. the two younger boys exit the kitchen, leaving wonwoo and mingyu to their own devices.
after a moment, mingyu claps his hands together and says, "let's get started. there should be glass noodles in the pantry. start by cooking them. i'll get the vegetables out and start chopping."
with a raised eyebrow, wonwoo does as he's told. he finds a pot, fills it with water, sets it on the burner, and turns the heat up. as he waits, he watches how mingyu expertly chops the onions, mushrooms, carrots, and meat. the quick, harsh sound the knife makes as it hits the cutting board is rhythmic, somehow both annoying and soothing.
"okay, mix these things in a bowl," mingyu instructs, haphazardly pointing his knife hand around.
"be careful," wonwoo scolds, stepping out of range. "i'd rather keep my fingers attached to my body, thank you."
"that's fair. you're definitely more useful that way."
"again, i will commit murder if i have to."
"i'm only joking. anyway, once that sauce is made, finish cutting up the onion for me. i have to work on the spinach."
the onion makes wonwoo's tear ducts water, and he does his best to keep them in place. he notices how his pieces don't look quite as good as mingyu's, but hey, he's not a cook.
as wonwoo checks on the noodles, mingyu says, "one of the most important parts about cooking and food to me is flavour. having perfectly cooked meat is one thing, but it having the right seasoning brings it to a whole other level. i think that's generally what's wrong with your soup. there's no seasoning, so it's just kind of bland."
his mouth drops open a little, and he gapes at the younger. he wasn't expecting to be told what exactly was wrong with his soup, though he can't say he's truly mad about it. "oh. okay. thanks, i guess."
mingyu nods and continues rinsing (at least, that's what wonwoo thinks he's doing) the spinach. "no problem."
the dish takes about forty-five minutes to complete, and by the end of it, they have bowls of steaming japchae in front of them. it smells heavenly.
mingyu calls the others in to try some, and soon, the seven others barge into the kitchen and crowd around the island. wonwoo takes his bowl and shrinks back, standing by the sink instead.
"wow, this is so good," one of them, wonwoo thinks his name is san, exclaims. "wooyoung—wooyoung would've loved this..." he trails off, and wonwoo catches that this wooyoung seems to be a sore topic. he pushes the thought to the side as the rest compliment the two on their dish.
it's on the way home that wonwoo builds up the nerve to ask. "hey, mingyu?"
"yeah?"
"who's wooyoung?"
the taller looks over; his smile is sad. "wooyoung was one of them. and he was san's...soulmate if you believe in that."
"oh." his voice is soft, suddenly emotional. he remembers how absolutely devastating it was, how utterly destroyed he was when his mother died. he can't imagine what it's like to lose someone chosen; he guesses that the pain's different. he thinks that with chosen family, it might somehow hurt just a little more because the connection was built on mutual feelings, trust, and love versus an almost required relationship. he can't imagine being without seungcheol or vernon, or even mingyu at this point. hell, even losing adachi yuto would hurt, and they only recently started talking again, but it's the connection they made that matters, he thinks.
even if the connection is made by fate and not necessarily by choice, he still finds it to be extremely powerful. he recalls the time yuto called him up in the middle of the night to talk about a fight he'd had with wooseok. wonwoo had no way of helping since he'd never really experienced any of those things (soulmates certainly weren't on his radar), so he just gave the best—and maybe only—advice he could: talk to him. although he never quite found out how it turned out, he knew it would end up okay because the two had such a strong bond that would take the world ending to break.
and suddenly, he wishes he could have that, too.
JIHOON
three days after the last of their files are stolen, lee ji hoon is sitting at his desk, quietly stewing in anger. each time, the members of perilous have gotten away thanks to yin and yang. he's annoyed that they haven't been able to catch any of them, not even once.
perilous consists of four official members and two unofficial members, from what they've been able to determine. yin and yang are enigmas embroiled in the chaos, two people who show up in time for the long-sought-after criminals to get away. they make jihoon even more irritated than perilous does.
he huffs and puts on his headphones, fully aware that their boss has a strong preference against them. he can't help that music relaxes him. and no one follows his rule anyway.
as he works on writing up a report for a different case, he gets a text from seokmin, another detective on the perilous task force. he contemplates ignoring it, as he usually does, but his phone dings a few more times. he looks at the series of texts instead of turning the ringer off as he originally planned.
seokmin
yo jihoon
jihoon
jihoon
jihoooon
c'mon answer me
me
what
seokmin
finally!
there's a fight going on a few blocks west of the precinct!
me
so
seokmin
the gangs are involved
er, gang
i have no idea what's going on yet
that piques his interest. he always forgets that the space gangs are no longer plural. he isn't sure whether it's been months or years since they combined into one; he's never particularly cared for their weird territory squabbles. but he does know the fact that they exist as one gang now is huge amongst the citizens of seoul as they've been at war for so long.
without responding, jihoon bolts from his seat. no one tries to stop him, which he's grateful for, but he's not surprised. his boss is usually in his office doing who knows what, and his coworkers have already snuck out.
exactly where seokmin said the showdown was taking place, he spots a handful of gang members and a quartet of hooded figures. he can't hear any of the discourse between the groups, but he can tell it's nothing less than hostile.
no one seems to acknowledge the slightly chilly temperature. they're all too enraptured by the possible conflict that could go down. even neighbours are watching from their front lawns, from their stoops, from their windows.
and sure enough, the exchange heats up. jihoon, seokmin, and the other surveying cops step in. along with joshua and seungkwan—and some others he doesn't know the names of—he makes a show of restraining the gang members, but there's no actual malicious intent—at least on their end.
the inevitable fight is stopped, and the groups are broken up. the four hooded figures are shoved into two cars and taken back to the station. when there are no more stray eyes watching them, the gang members are released.
"suh!" jeonghan calls out, coming closer. the two exchange smiles. jihoon vaguely recalls them becoming friendly due to having long hair at the same time and people constantly getting them mixed up.
"how have you been?" suh questions with a grin.
"have you heard about perilous?" jeonghan questions in lieu of actually responding. suh nods and looks thoughtful. "we've been working on that for a while now. unfortunately, we haven't made much progress."
"well, i definitely know of them. i'll let you know if we hear anything else."
"you'd do that for us?"
"for you, yes." he doesn't give any explanation, which jihoon has come to expect from any members of the light gang. they occasionally supply information, but they never give out any sources.
"it's much appreciated. thank you."
"no problem." suh looks around, and jihoon takes a moment to do the same. he sees minghao talking to a former red sun and black moon and can't help but smile a little. jeonghan then asks suh about the little white star that had been troubling him for the past few years, and suh happily announces that they're back together. eventually, he says, "well, we should get going."
"yeah, so should we," jihoon replies, suddenly remembering they have another new case to work on. "come on, jeonghan."
they leave the light gang and head back to the precinct. three of the four figures are in holding cells, but the fourth one is missing. jihoon bets they're already in the interrogation room.
he makes his way to the observing room and watches the rest of the exchange between the suspect and joshua and seungkwan. seokmin is already there, along with one of the criminal investigators named junhui.
"well?" he demands when he sees seokmin.
beside him, junhui scoffs. "you won't believe this, but they're claiming to be perilous."
jihoon's eyebrows narrow, and he takes a closer look at the suspect, whose face has now been revealed. he looks too young and too scared. he stammers when he speaks and can't look joshua in the eyes—joshua, who is perhaps the nicest, kindest being jihoon's ever met. that, and the fact that none of them has been caught before. "you're right, i don't believe it."
"their stories are all over the place. they don't match what little we have on perilous, and they don't match each other," junhui explains.
between the nine of them, they take turns grilling the four suspects. by the second person, they're all convinced they're wasting their time, but protocol insists they follow through.
nearly five hours later, the fakes have been released, and their boss lets them leave. normally, jihoon would go home, eat dinner, and go to bed, but tonight, he accepts seokmin's invitation to go drinking with the others. the day hasn't been particularly hard, just unnecessarily long.
jihoon sits next to chan—another one of the criminal investigators—and learns that he's the youngest, though just by two years. jihoon doesn't really listen to the idle chatter unless it relates to the case. he's too frustrated by these criminals and their elusive nature.
as he's blankly looking around the bar, a very distinct, foreign face catches his attention. "vernon?" he calls out before he can stop himself.
the younger looks up, and they make eye contact. "jihoon?" he moves closer. the little group he's with stays put, only sparing them a glance.
"you remember me?"
"you remember me?" vernon repeats.
"of course i do. we worked on a music project your first year. uh, i went by woozi."
vernon's face lights up. "wow, i can't believe i forgot about that! it's so nice to see you again, man."
it's not until jihoon gets home that he realises something about vernon. the boy is oddly familiar, and it doesn't have anything to do with them knowing each other from university.
MINGHAO
xu ming hao can't lie: he quite likes his life in korea. of course, he misses home and his family, but he treasures the memories he's created and all of the places he's been able to visit. and, of course, he loves the friends he's made, but it's not like he'd ever tell them that.
he's not entirely sure how his job as a criminal investigator came to be, but he doesn't mind the work, and he's interacted with many interesting people. every time they ask, he tells his parents that it gives him a 'more worldly experience,' and his mother will tell him that chasing after criminals and meeting people with serious issues isn't the way.
"you can gain a more worldly experience by, i don't know, volunteering at a homeless shelter or working in customer service," she'll inform him, to which he'll always respond with a shrug if they're physically together and remind her that she used to be in law school and would more or less be doing the same thing if she hadn't changed careers halfway through.
one of the main reasons why minghao has stayed with the precinct takes the name of wen jun hui. junhui is a year older and was born in the opposite direction of the same country (junhui was born in the south, and minghao was born in the north), but he's the closest thing minghao has to home. junhui means everything to him. but again, it's not like he would tell him that.
"you're all meeting with someone from interpol in twenty minutes," is the first thing minghao hears when he walks in a few days after their false suspects turn themselves in.
"interpol? aren't they an international organisation?" joshua asks. "i thought perilous was just operating in seoul."
their boss lets out a grunt. "that's what we thought, but we received a message last night that they've been connected to a crime in japan."
"yakuza?" seungkwan wonders aloud.
"we don't think so. the interpol agent will be able to explain it better."
the agent does explain it better, but it still thoroughly befuddles minghao. if perilous has just been working in south korea, and even more specifically in seoul, why would a crime in japan be tied to them? how could it? he isn't sure about the timeline, but something about their alleged involvement doesn't add up.
when minghao gets back to his makeshift desk, he sees a younger boy sitting in his chair, staring at the ceiling and looking bored. "zhong?"
"oh, hey, minghao."
minghao raises an eyebrow and asks, "do you need something, or did you just come by to bother me?" although his tone is bland, he's anything but annoyed. he's grown quite fond of the little chinese kid.
zhong grins. "both." he sits up. "actually, i wanted to relay some information i've acquired about perilous. well, more about their mystery accomplices."
"yin and yang? you found something?"
zhong's grin turns into a smirk. "not to brag, but yes." before the younger can say anything more, minghao holds up a finger to stop him. "fine. you're no fun when you're working."
"i'm not supposed to be."
"yeah, yeah." he pulls a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it over. "here."
minghao unfolds the paper and sees a rough sketch of a girl. "what's this?"
"it's what we think yang looks like." zhong's head tilts to the side before he says, "although we're one gang, we still operate as if we were three, each focusing on an area—both in location and skill. the white stars work on connections to the mainland, taiwan, macau, and hong kong. we're pretty sure yang is chinese and has some connection to two seoul residents named yang jeong in and yang hong seok."
"why do you think there's a connection?"
"we think her last name is yang, which is kind of ironic since it's also her alias."
"what type of relation do they have if she's chinese and they're korean?"
"no clue. that's all we know right now."
minghao sighs. "well, it's definitely better than what we had before." which is nothing, but he's not about to say that. "thanks, zhong."
zhong smiles as he hops to his feet. "no problem." he pauses. "man, i wish i could tell you my name so it didn't feel so awkward and formal all the time."
"but you're not allowed to," minghao finishes understandingly. "i get it. don't worry about it."
"i should get back. it was nice seeing you."
minghao powers through the next few hours of paperwork with a newfound burst of motivation. after lunch, he shares the new information with the rest of the team, and they get to work on uncovering yang's identity. they don't get any matches through facial recognition, but they send out copies of the sketch to other agencies across the country and send one back with the interpol agent.
by the time the day ends, minghao is wiped. he slowly packs up his bag, bids his friends and coworkers a good night, and heads to the bus stop. he tightens his scarf around his neck as a particularly chilly wind blows. he drops by the corner store to pick up dinner for himself and his roommate and then goes home.
his roommate is staring at a mostly blank canvas with a can of beer in one hand and a paintbrush in the other. minghao just watches for a moment before he announces, "i bought some sushi on the way home."
they break out of their trance-like state and smile at him. "thanks, minghao." they set their brush down and bring their beer with them to the kitchen table. "i can't find the wine glasses, so you'll have to drink from a regular cup."
he shrugs and ends up drinking his wine from an ugly, colourful mug soonyoung bought him a few years prior.
"are you any closer to finding perilous?" minying asks. although he's not allowed to reveal anything about the cases he works on, he may have let it slip that he was brought in to work on catching the ever-illusive quartet of criminals.
"yes, actually." he regains some energy and launches into an explanation of what zhong gave them and what they were able to find out afterwards. the whole while, they just look fondly at him.
"never change," they tell him. something about it feels a little odd, but he's gotten used to their strange way of talking in the years he's known them.
YIN
yin knows that disappearing from the face of the earth is bad, but they can't help it. when they're tired of the path they're following, they run away and create a new one. but sometimes, it's as if the universe is doing it for them, with equal parts good, bad, and weird.
like this one, for instance:
yin watches from a distance as kim min gyu pushes on a door that's clearly labelled 'pull.' they wonder how he ever managed to graduate from university, but they suppose schooling doesn't necessarily have any relevance to one's comprehension skills or logical reasoning.
next to them, yang sighs, but they can't tell if it's from amusement or disappointment. either works, they think. mingyu really is something else.
also watching his struggle is wonwoo. he has a blank look on his face as he holds a few plastic bags in his hands, standing behind mingyu. vernon and seungcheol have already exited the store and are laughing at him from the other side.
yin almost reveals themselves in exasperation, but wonwoo finally takes pity on him and tells mingyu that the door is a pull door. mingyu sheepishly rubs the back of his neck and finally gets the door open, taking a bag and promptly leaving.
yin is sometimes good at reading people, but their impatient nature often hinders a proper assessment. the two boys give off the energy of opposites attract and definitely could be dating, but yin knows some people are just like that, and it's not that deep.
"come on, let's go," yang says, tugging on their sleeve. "we have some things to finish up."
yin groans but complies, following yang as they make their way back to their headquarters, which is really just one of the many apartments they live in. paying in cash each month, yin and yang spend much of their time in a rundown apartment building close to perilous's warehouse. it's easier to keep an eye on the quartet, but it also draws less attention to the pair.
being the child of a chaebol has its perks. as their father is far too busy to keep track of all of the things he owns, yin is able to slip under the radar with the help of a few people who are somehow more loyal to them than him.
back at the apartment, yin puts away the groceries they just bought, and yang starts making dinner. their routine is always the same, so much so that it's basically automatic.
"i know you want to stay out of the public as much as possible, but what do you think about stopping by for a little bit?" yang asks from the kitchen. yin has moved to the living room and is flipping through the mail.
"maybe we should, just to check on them," yin agrees. yang doesn't respond. yin calls her name.
"sorry, i just didn't think you'd agree, especially so easily," she says. "shall we bring them dinner?"
"maybe just a snack since i know mingyu likes to cook," yin replies. "you got a letter, by the way."
yang sets the ladle down and takes the letter, gently opening it. her brows furrow as she reads it, and her lips turn downward. yin can't help but worry.
"what is it?" they ask.
"it's from my mama. some sort of trade happened between her business and one here, so she'll be in seoul for a week. she's asking to meet up."
"how'd she get this address?"
"i'm not sure."
yin flips the envelope over and spots a note. "'i gathered the mail from the different apartments and dropped it all off here. i hope that's okay. moon.' ah, that's how."
the two discuss how they'll handle yang's mother's visit over dinner and decide to tell the others when they drop by later that evening. yin and yang always make sure to be just a step behind perilous to get them out of any difficult situations they happen to get themselves in. but just for a week, they'll have to be on their own.
with a container of homemade cookies (that totally aren't a few days old) in hand, they make their way to the warehouse. finding the entrance is the hardest part, as neither has ever been inside.
the interior is exactly what one would expect of an abandoned warehouse: old, rusted, dirty, uninviting, and a little creepy. even so, the boys have miraculously made it seem homely (for lack of a better word, of course). the rooms are distinguishable enough from each other, and they even have a video game setup in the living room. it's quite impressive, actually.
neither of them says a word as they stand in the kitchen, gazing at the four boys. seungcheol and wonwoo are playing a racing game together on one end of the couch while mingyu is curled up on the other end, somehow looking small—which is astounding as he's 6'2" and fairly buff. vernon is sitting on the floor in front of them, head bobbing to some beat he's listening to through his headphones.
yin decides to have some fun and quietly moves so they're just in sight, still not speaking. wonwoo's the first to notice them and jumps a little. yin grins, but it's hidden by their mask, only their eyes crinkling at the corners.
"yin?" he looks confused. seungcheol leans forward and nudges vernon. yang moves closer so she's standing next to them. "yang? what are you doing here?"
"we have some things to discuss with you."
☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎
the only person who seems to have an issue with their absence is mingyu, which is extremely out of character. when they first encountered each other and began a mutual partnership, it was mingyu who was the most against them, saying they didn't need help, so his acting a little childish about it now is very offputting.
"it's only a week," yang tries to reassure him for the nth time. "it's just some business we have to take care of. we'll be back before you know it."
"as long as you stay out of trouble, you'll be fine," adds yin.
"it sounds like you don't have any faith in us," mingyu grumbles.
yin and yang share a glance and then look anywhere else. it's not that perilous can't do anything without them; it's more that they tend to get themselves in precarious situations that require a little extra help.
"we just want to be there in case anything happens," explains yang with a sympathetic smile. "it may seem a little strange, but we ca—we just don't want anything bad to happen to you."
"and besides, we still have a similar ideal and goal we're striving for. we want to do our part in helping." yin shrugs as if breaking the law is nothing but a simple, everyday task.
"come on, mingyu, we'll be fine," seungcheol tries to goad the tallest. to yin and yang, he says, "as much as we appreciate your eyes and your help, we need to learn how to get out of our messes by ourselves at some point. this is a perfect time."
seungcheol's got the brain of a mastermind with a little chaos sprinkled in. it's risky to practice without backup, but yin knows there's nothing they can do to stop them. "that's a fair point."
wonwoo proceeds to ruin the finality of their mutual agreement. "i literally don't see the point in your argument, mingyu. might i remind you that you didn't like them in the beginning." he seems a little irate at mingyu's behaviour.
"i get it, i get it; i'm a hypocrite. can we move on?"
"at least you're aware." yin's never seen wonwoo look so smug. it's unsettling.
"by the way," yin starts, shifting uncomfortably as a thought strikes them. "i think they're close to figuring out who one of us is, which only means they'll find the rest of us out sooner or later."
"how do you know that?" seungcheol demands, eyes widening.
"what's that english saying? a bird told me? or something like that. i have my ways, is what i'm trying to say." they know it doesn't make any of them feel better.
yang's mother is a tall, thin, and stern businesswoman. she's far more intimidating and serious than her husband, who still works on their farm. her gaze always makes yin's skin crawl.
two days later, yin and yang are trailing after the woman, who is thoroughly inspecting everything in their apartment—the more upscale one. she grunts at the artwork on the walls, the colour choices, the organisation of their belongings. she seems to accept the view from the living room window—a nice overlook of the city skyline, the han river in the distance.
for a few hours, the three of them sit and chat in the living room. before yang's mother makes her exit, she tells them, "i've made us a reservation for dinner tomorrow night." it's not an invitation; it's an implied demand that they show up. she gives them the details and heads out, firmly closing the door behind her.
yin lets out a long, relieved sigh once they're out of her scrutiny. "man, she still makes me so nervous."
yang puts a comforting hand on their shoulder. "i know. and honestly, me too, sometimes, but only when you're involved because i'm always scared she'll one day stop being okay with you. and with us."
that catches yin by surprise. yang's mother had first been sceptical of yin in the first place—being non-binary and all. even just as a friend, she wanted something else for her daughter—someone else. she wanted her daughter's friends to be smart, hardworking, and kind. the unmentioned traits were straight and cisgender. she wanted her daughter to marry a rich man and combine conglomerates—or at least continue running their monetary empire.
it took a long, long time for yang's mother to accept yin, and in the meantime, there were plenty of somewhat traumatic interactions between them. unfortunately, it wasn't much different from yin's own parents. but they'd gotten past it, deciding that while the trauma was lasting, it wasn't worth it to keep holding a grudge.
what yin wasn't aware of was that yang thought about and feared that her mother would change her mind.
without a second thought, they cup yang's face in their hands and lean forward, their lips meeting. it's a quick, chaste kiss, but yin wants yang to know how much they love her and that there's nothing in the world that could tear them apart. as much as yin hates a sole person being the reason for living, hates the idea of revolving one's life around someone else, they understand it. yang is the best thing to ever happen to them, and they wouldn't want to be in a world without her.
"whatever happens, we'll be together. there's no stopping us."
the last time yin was this nervous, they were introduced to yang's mother as her partner. in the beginning of high school, they had started dating—after years of knowing each other and being best friends—and knew they couldn't hide it from yang's mother. the woman somehow knew everything. it unnerved yin to no end.
yin is dressed in an old but well-made pantsuit they found in the closet of one of their apartments. it's a little loose-fitting in some places, but it does the job. yang is wearing the blue dress they got her for her last birthday, and yin's heart swells with adoration.
"you look beautiful," they say, gazing fondly at yang. they desperately try to ignore the way their hands are trembling, the way their knees feel like jelly, the knots in their stomach.
"so do you," she replies, wrapping her arms around their waist and squeezing tightly, resting her head on their shoulder. "but we should leave so we're not late."
the restaurant is one of the fanciest, most expensive ones in seoul, but there's no time to marvel at its design or decor before they're whisked away to a private back room. they don't get to choose what they eat; they eat what they're served.
"as you know," mrs. yang starts, "my daughter is supposed to be married—or engaged, at least—by the age of twenty-one. that's next month. i need to know if you have any plans for your future."
that catches both yin and yang entirely off guard. of course, they've known about it, but their lives haven't exactly given them the time to think about marriage. yin tries to keep a neutral expression.
"uh, ma'am, that hasn't been on our radar, unfortunately. we've had a lot going on in the past years."
mrs. yang clicks her tongue. "i see. well, i want you to know that it's still something my husband and i are expecting, so if you have any plans, i suggest you go ahead with them now."
"understood, ma'am. i will definitely put serious thought into it and make it a priority." they silently applaud themselves when their voice stays even and for not stumbling over their words.
the rest of the dinner goes smoothly; there are no more curveballs thrown at them. yin isn't sure what most of the foods are (they're in a european inspired restaurant, and for some reason, it makes yin feel out of place), but they eat the dishes without complaint.
"it was good seeing you both once again," mrs. yang tells them as they make their way to the exit. "and please do seriously think about your future together. it's impertinent to the success of our legacy, and to her happiness, of course."
"i will. goodnight, ma'am."
they watch her leave, her driver opening the door for her, and then they disappear into the evening. as yin and yang stand at the entrance, it's quiet between them.
"so..." yin doesn't know how to start the conversation, how to talk about what yang's mother brought forth.
"i understand if you don't want to get married," yang says bluntly, eyes trained on the ground.
"what?" they splutter. "what makes you think that? i've only been in love with you since we were eighteen, but i've known since we were fifteen that if i were to ever marry anyone, it would be you."
"oh." it's said so softly that yin almost misses it. "i didn't realise...i didn't realise..." she trails off, not quite finishing her thought.
yin adds, "i just liked that we took our time. there was never a reason to rush things. well, i guess there always has been; we just kind of ignored it."
"in a different aspect, i understand if you don't want to get married simply because it's required of me. it's mainly for business purposes, after all." yin looks over and sees yang picking at a scab on the back of her hand. she looks antsy like she can't wait for the conversation to be over.
"and again, i don't care if it is. i love you, you love me, and that's all i care about."
"are you positive?"
"yes, i am."
"okay, then." her frown turns into a smile. "let's get married."
yin returns it. "let's get married."