WONWOO
yin and yang return to the warehouse unannounced for the third time. there's no greeting, no preamble. they're in the middle of dinner. "they know about vernon."
wonwoo, along with everyone else, stops what they're doing, eyes wide and expressions ranging from shocked to horrified. wonwoo readjusts his glasses, feeling them slipping down his nose.
"how?" someone asks, maybe himself.
yin's brows furrow, and they exhale a little shakily. "i'm realising now that there's a lot of missing context, so bear with me as i explain. before yang moved to seoul, i met xu ming hao—yes, the investigator—and we've lived together ever since. he eventually moved into the law enforcement field here and was put into the same unit as lee chan—yes, the investigator—who i, uh, dated at one point.
"i've been living as minying with minghao, and sometimes he tells me about their progress on catching perilous, which is why i know anything at all. it's how i knew they had a lead on yang. jihoon and vernon apparently went to the same university and even did a project together, but that's how jihoon figured it out."
wonwoo doesn't mention the fact that he also knows jihoon from university. he's too shocked to speak, not expecting anything like this—much less all of the connections and background of yin's life. but it doesn't stop there.
"and as for me," starts yang, hand squeezing yin's, "the name i usually go by is jilong, but i started using jiyong once i moved here. i'm half chinese, half korean. my father's side is chinese, and i lived on the mainland for most of my life before going to university in taiwan. but my mother's side is korean, and that's how i'm related to jeongin and hongseok."
as quickly as wonwoo is trying to process things, a thought occurs to him, but he doesn't have time to voice it.
"i'm half and half, too, in the same way," adds yin. "i mostly use minyeong, but, as i said, i use minying with minghao. if you haven't figured it out by now, i'm president park's kid, and if you were unaware, i tend to disappear a lot. i guess i like doing other things instead of thinking about my impending future. but i brought jeongin to sun castle when he was a kid and first saw a future black moon there. it was moon, in fact. more recently, i brought over a band of pirates from an island called wonderland."
"hold on," seungcheol cuts in, nearly waving his arms in the air in distress. "this is a lot. give me a minute."
it's uncomfortably silent as the quartet takes in everything. yin and yang just solemnly watch them.
"wait," mingyu exclaims after a moment. "you brought—what do they call themselves again? the golden rays or something?—them to seoul? i've known some of them for years."
"the golden lights," yin corrects with a fond look that quickly turns sombre.
wonwoo clears his throat, fiddling with the cords on his hoodie and feeling especially awkward. "i've been friends with a guy named yuto for a while now, and he's friends with hongseok. i actually asked him the other day if he knew jeongin, and he said he did."
yin stares at him for a moment. "we know yuto as well. he's the one who told us he knew you."
if he and yuto hadn't already talked, wonwoo would've been a little peeved about being outed by someone he calls a friend. but since he knows yuto better than yin, he's kind of annoyed that they snitched on him. for whatever reason, he completely trusts yuto. he's always known the guy to be thoughtful and kind, not one to talk shit or butt into other people's business without good reason.
"um, that reminds me," yang says, suddenly as nervous as wonwoo's ever seen her. "i might have sent him—hongseok, i mean—over here the other day."
seungcheol's eyes narrow. "what do you mean by that?"
she takes something out of her pocket and hands it over. seungcheol's eyebrows go from drawn to raised as he also pulls something out of his pocket. wonwoo leans over and stares at the identical cards. even the same 'lucky dragon' is written on the back.
"that's what my chinese name means," she tells them. "since almost no one here knows it, i didn't think it'd be easy to trace back to me. it helped that no one knows my identity either—yet, at least."
"can you explain the whole thing behind the wedding?" mingyu asks. wonwoo looks over and notices how he doesn't look mad or upset, just curious. he catches himself wondering why.
"my father is the president, and my mother is a successful businesswoman. i'm expected to be the perfect daughter, ready to marry a rich man to continue the family's legacy," yin says, a mildly irate look on their face.
yang leans over and presses a light kiss to their cheek. the action makes wonwoo's heart flutter involuntarily. they're really cute together. he wishes he could have something like that.
"my mother is a millionaire, though my father is just a farmer. but she is very strict and very traditional," says yang. "she eventually accepted myin, but she's never let me forget that i'm supposed to be married by twenty-one. she got married at twenty-one and was hoping i would, too."
"so, we're getting married," finishes yin with a casual shrug.
☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎
wonwoo feels like his head is going to explode. he's absorbed so much information in the past hour, and he doesn't know what to do with it all. he decides to take a walk, asking vernon if he wants to come with him.
"normally, i would agree, but i think i'm going to go for a run instead," vernon tells him. "it's easier not to think that way."
seungcheol pipes up, "i'll go with if you don't mind, vernon. i think a run would help clear my mind, too."
"be careful. especially you, vernon. now that the police know your face and who you are, you need to be extra careful," warns mingyu.
wonwoo nods in agreement before heading outside, bracing himself for the chilly weather. he steps outside and immediately zips his jacket shut. he's taken only a few paces before he's pulled back by his wrist.
"wait for me," comes mingyu's voice. wonwoo pauses, unsure of how to react. "and here—" the taller reveals a scarf, the same damn one as always, and ties it snugly around wonwoo's neck. "i know you'll want it soon."
"oh. um. thanks."
they walk through the city, side by side. mingyu's arms gently swing by his thighs as he quietly hums a song. wonwoo has his hands in his pockets to keep them warm, his nose buried in the scarf, glasses fogging up. it smells nice, and he realises it smells like mingyu.
oh.
"why do you keep giving me your scarf?" he questions if only to stop his train of thought. he ends up startling mingyu.
"so you don't get cold?" mingyu sounds very unsure of his answer.
wonwoo huffs. "obviously. but why do you always have it whenever we're out together? why not let me freeze? or tell me to bring my own?"
"oh." he doesn't speak for a long moment. "i...i don't really know." he shrugs and looks forward again.
wonwoo doesn't like that answer—because it's not one—but he drops it. he reaches his hands deeper into his pockets and sees the light snow that has started to fall. as much as he hates this season due to the cold, he thinks the snow is rather pretty. his gaze eventually ends up on mingyu—because it always does—and he can't help but notice how nice the scene before him is: mingyu's skin stands out against the blindingly bright, white winter background. snowflakes have landed in his hair and collar, and if wonwoo looks close enough, he can see the few that have fallen onto the taller's eyelashes.
he feels mingyu's arm brush against his, and he looks down, seeing mingyu's hand rising up. when he lifts his head, he makes eye contact with mingyu, and they both freeze. mingyu's hand quickly falls back to his side. "oh," is all he whispers.
wonwoo tilts his head, questioning. "what?"
for the first time in the years they've known each other, he sees mingyu look flushed, embarrassed, nervous, and he pulls at the neckline of his jacket. "nothing."
wonwoo purses his lips, close to becoming irritated. "mingyu." he's too focused on the taller's eyes that he misses how the other swallows before speaking.
"you, uh—you just had a snowflake above your lip, so i was going to wipe it, but i remembered we're not that close." he looks down at their shoes. "and you hating me makes it extra weird."
wonwoo stops moving, the younger lot realising for a moment.. "i...i don't hate you, mingyu."
"it certainly seems like it," mingyu scoffs, running a hand through his hair (and looking unfairly attractive yet again). "from the way you act whenever i say or do anything, it's hard to believe otherwise."
a pinch makes wonwoo realise he's subconsciously biting on his tongue. he inhales sharply. "i don't hate you," he repeats, trying to sound as sincere as he feels. "yes, you're extremely annoying a lot of the time, and you say far too many things, but i don't hate you. i never have. some might even call your propensity for talking charming."
at this, mingyu grins. "but not you, right?" he asks instead of making a different kind of joke.
the corner of wonwoo's mouth quirks up. "but not me."
yet, is what he doesn't say out loud.
vernon is more or less put on house arrest by seungcheol. he's not allowed to leave without one of the other three. if he does, he's to wear sunglasses, a hat, and nondescript, oversized clothing. wonwoo thinks it's all a little bit overkill—especially the sunglasses in winter—but he understands the eldest's concerns.
vernon, on the other hand, seems okay with it. like wonwoo, he doesn't go outside much anyway. he's definitely a little more irate than usual, but he doesn't complain much, simply accepting seungcheol's words.
during that time, he and wonwoo play more video games together. as both of them are more of homebodies than mingyu and seungcheol, they're pleased to spend their time inside playing games. wonwoo thinks of it as a bonding experience.
"so you're willing to bond with vernon but not me? i'm hurt," mingyu's voice carries over the intense music of the horror game he and vernon are playing. wonwoo glances away from the screen and sees the taller is in the kitchen. "and to think i willingly make you dinner every night."
"unless you want me to die, you kind of have to," he calls back, taking the time to adjust his glasses. "you already know i'm a disaster on my own when it comes to cooking. we all kind of are."
mingyu says something in return, but wonwoo doesn't hear it. he turns back to the screen and refocuses his attention just as a cabinet falls in front of his character, separating him from vernon.
"i think there's a way around it," vernon tells him. "go back to the stairs and turn left. i think it loops around."
seungcheol bursts into the room without announcing himself, exclaiming at the game. "you two finally picked it up? i've been telling you for months to play it." he plops himself down in the middle of the couch and watches, commenting every so often.
"i hate it here," mingyu sighs, and wonwoo smirks at the statement.
"sucks to be you," he replies, still trying to find a way back to vernon.
"food's almost ready, by the way. i hope you can pause it."
as all of them are in a good mood, dinner is far more lighthearted than usual. it almost feels like they're just a group of good friends, not pursued criminals.
mingyu's very proud of his bulgogi and rice, telling them he tried something new with it. honestly, wonwoo can't tell the difference, but food's not his specialty. all he knows is that he can cook noodles and that he doesn't eat seafood.
(funnily enough, there's never been a mishap with it, even when mingyu first joined and took up the position of cook in their group. wonwoo isn't sure if seungcheol told him beforehand or if he somehow figured it out himself—wonwoo definitely didn't say anything—but he's not complaining.)
wonwoo gently rolls his eyes at mingyu's pleased expression as he's complimented because he's always complimented on his cooking. it's always good.
"i still wish we could've tried some of the japchae you two made," vernon says, fumbling with his chopsticks as he tries to pick up a piece of meat. "my damn hand is cramping."
"and i wish you guys could've tried it," responds mingyu, laughing as the youngest finally gets a working grip, "but it was all gone in minutes. it was good, especially for a beginner."
wonwoo kicks him under the table, ignoring the muttered "ow!" and following grumbles. "firstly, a reminder that you hate that we just eat ramen because it's all we can make without burning the warehouse down. secondly, you did most of the work, i just followed your instructions."
"give yourself some credit, wonwoo," seungcheol says because he's very much like their dad. "i'm sure you helped more than you think."
mingyu nods. "what he said. that's really all cooking is: following directions. getting creative and experimenting is just another level."
"that makes me a chef, then, right?" wonwoo jokes, already sure of what mingyu's answer will be.
"absolutely not."
he grins, no semblance of annoyance or irritation present. something has shifted, something he can't figure out. he doesn't dislike mingyu as much as he used to. rather, he somewhat enjoys the banter between them.
maybe, just maybe, he kind of likes mingyu now.
there's only one member of the light gang that wonwoo intentionally interacts with: lee. it's a very unhelpful name as there are over seven million people in korea alone with that last name, but it's the only name he knows. lee has dark hair and a black spade tattooed under one of his eyes. while wonwoo is wary of the light gang, he's always found this lee to be much like him.
"it's been a while," lee says from his perch on top of the brick wall separating him from wonwoo. "i wondered what you were up to."
"the same as usual, so not a whole lot," wonwoo replies casually, shrugging as he leans against the wall. he then remembers that lee most likely isn't looking at him, watching the activity on his side instead. "how have things been since your gangs combined?"
"strange is an understatement." lee laughs, the sound somehow comforting. "but it's turning into the new normal, and it's becoming familiar."
it takes a moment, but wonwoo gets to the reason why he asked to meet. "i did actually want to talk to you about something."
"i figured."
"how fast did you know you didn't like na after you first met?" he starts off with, unsure of how to approach it.
lee hums. "pretty fast, to be honest." he's quiet for a beat, and wonwoo guesses he's probably reminiscing. "for the first few weeks, all i could think about was how weird he was, which i suppose isn't quite the same as disliking him. in fact, i thought he was cute, but as soon as he opened his mouth, that didn't mean anything."
both surprisingly and unfortunately, it's a very similar situation to wonwoo. he had to admit that he thought mingyu was attractive at first glance, but it went out the window as soon as he spoke. it's almost comical to wonwoo.
"and how did you come to like him?" he presses on.
"i think it just happened one day. i'm not really sure when or how, but suddenly, i didn't find him annoying. all i know is that now, i wouldn't trade him for the world. he's my best friend, and i love him too much."
wonwoo runs a hand through his hair, a little frustrated. it's not lee's fault—of course it isn't, and he's very aware of this—but coming here hasn't helped.
"i can tell that wasn't the answer you were looking for," lee says as if reading his mind. "i can see it on your face."
"the thing is, i don't really know what i'm looking for." he looks up and sees lee looking back down at him and motions to continue. "i guess...well, in the past few days, i've found that i don't mind him as much anymore. i even came to the realisation that i might even like him rather than just tolerate him."
"you're right; that is scary," agrees lee, chuckling. "is he still as flirty as before?"
"no, not really." he pauses to think, toying with his glasses. "well, not to me, at least. but none of us have gone out much recently, so i doubt it with others."
lee hums thoughtfully. "to be truthful, na and i have always had a connection. it's never gone past friends, but we definitely thought about it before we joined our respective gangs."
wonwoo's nose scrunches as he mulls over his thoughts. "i'm just confused and don't know what to do," he says, not entirely acknowledging the other's words.
lee sighs, but wonwoo doesn't think it's with ire or aimed at him. "i think you should let him know that you don't mind him, even if you don't tell him directly since i know you aren't much of a talker. show him through your body language and behaviour. if he does or says something you truly don't like or agree with, tell him, but don't push him away. i'd say that's a pretty good way to start. things will shape up from there, i think."
"i think you could be right." wonwoo grabs at his hoodie strings and plays with them. "thanks, lee."
"any time, jeon."
☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎
wonwoo is suddenly acutely aware of everything mingyu does, and he thinks he's about to lose his mind because of it. he notices the space mingyu takes up when he sprawls across the couch or his mattress, how often he bites his lip or dishevels his hair in a given amount of time, the exact ways he acts like a puppy—especially now that he isn't actively being ignored or pushed away.
wonwoo is roped into cooking and baking with mingyu more often, though he doesn't really mind. he enjoys watching mingyu in his element more than anything.
"now you can actually bond," vernon teases cheekily, looking over from his notebook as he sits on the floor in front of the couch. wonwoo shoots him a look; the youngest just grins and goes back to his scrawling.
"we're almost done," mingyu tells him, pouting like the child he is. and wonwoo smiles at the taller's behaviour like the loser he is. "then we can do something you want. i'll even play video games with you."
wonwoo likes that idea. he's been keen on playing again, and there's one game he thinks mingyu will absolutely hate.
"all right, all right," he says, turning his attention back to the dish they're making.
they finish twenty minutes later, and then all four of them are eating around their small table, playfully arguing and talking over each other. it really does feel like a group of friends hanging out, and wonwoo savours the feeling. he wishes it could always be like this.
once the food is gone and the dishes are cleared, vernon goes back to his notebook, and seungcheol disappears, leaving wonwoo and mingyu alone in the living room.
"what game do you want to play?" mingyu asks before silence can envelop them.
wonwoo grins and pulls out the game from the stack they keep by the television, thoroughly enjoying the look of distaste on mingyu's features.
"as i said, you hate me," he whines, sulking. wonwoo can't help but internally scream, though he makes sure his outward expression is neutral.
instead of giving a retort, he simply shakes his head and starts up the game. he does his best to shove away any stray feelings and ignore the way he can feel mingyu's muscled arms wrap around his during jump scares. he forces himself to focus only on the game.
wonwoo knows that mingyu is almost completely opposite from him, but maybe that's just what he needs. and though the thought of giving in to his slowly developing feelings has crossed his mind, he doesn't think he'll survive it if he does.
activities as perilous have halted for an indefinite amount of time. they all know it's because seungcheol is wary of vernon being out, but he justifies his decision by saying that they don't operate quite as well without all four of them. wonwoo doesn't mind; it gives him more time to play video games and read books.
during one particularly cold day, they're all squeezed together on the couch, desperately wishing the heat would kick in. the warehouse is poorly insulated, and solar power is harder to come by on cloudy days. wonwoo is wearing layer upon layer upon layer and swaddled in blankets, mingyu's scarf snug against his neck. he can still feel the cold seeping in, but at least his teeth aren't chattering anymore.
on one side of him is mingyu, who is talking with seungcheol. he isn't listening to what they're saying, too busy feeling the ghost of mingyu's arm by his shoulder as he rests it across the top of the couch. he turns away and looks over vernon's shoulder, catching a glimpse of what he's so often working on. he realises vernon's been thinking up lyrics, and suddenly, he kind of wants to pick writing back up.
"do you want to see some other pages?" vernon asks, not looking up.
"if you don't mind," wonwoo replies, curious at what goes on inside the youngest's mind.
vernon flips to different pages throughout his notebook, letting wonwoo read through the words he's written. most of them are about things he's gone through, his feelings and thoughts and memories. the one that catches wonwoo's attention, however, is about love—how he wishes to one day experience it like it's described in the movies, or even at all.
it saddens wonwoo that vernon feels that way; he doesn't think he's ever been in love and wants to experience it in a way that's so made up and exaggerated. he hopes vernon can find a real and true love and that it's everything he's ever hoped for.
JIHOON
jihoon tries scouring the internet for any clues about vernon, but his frustration with and scarce understanding of social media gets in the way. he's very adamant about not signing up for new platforms as he barely understands the few he does have (all thanks to seokmin and seungkwan, who berated him about his lack of social media presence and proceeded to call him old and boring).
he tries to find either seokmin or seungkwan to help him, but, of course, the pair have disappeared. he ends up asking chan for assistance, concluding that the youngest will be more likely to be able to navigate through the sites. better than he can, in any case. he also debates calling on the cyber team, but the mere thought makes him anxious. he sticks to asking chan solely because he knows the kid and finds him easy to interact with.
he's standing behind chan, who has multiple tabs open on his work computer, showing different social media platforms—most of which jihoon has never heard of. they manage to strike gold on one of the most popular sites, finding an account dedicated to poorly recorded raps. it's dormant, but another site linked sends them to a music streaming platform, and they see that the most recent post was five weeks ago.
"that's definitely him," confirms jihoon, recognising the voice. "can you go through the posts and see what's from five or six years ago?"
it's a long shot, but he thinks that maybe vernon posted the results of their musical collaboration. the project holds a small but dear spot in his memory: him being new to producing and vernon being fresh out of high school.
after a lot of scrolling, chan slows down and lets jihoon read the titles. he asks to hear snippets of a few when the titles don't hold any meaning in his eyes, just to see what it is.
"wait! go back up a little." chan complies. "that's it." he presses the play button, and jihoon is instantly filled with nostalgia. from the smooth tone of vernon's voice to the beats they used to the faint background vocals he provided, it reminds him of a very different time.
when jihoon's gaze returns to the screen, he sees that chan has strayed back to the boy's other platforms, scrolling through the odd assortment of posts ranging from music to aesthetic photos to other types of art. he narrows his eyebrows in suspicion.
"what are you doing?" he nearly demands.
chan's eyes snap away, and he bites his lip. "uh—i just wanted to see what type of person he is."
jihoon shakes his head. he knows that train of thought, how it only leads to disaster. he recalls how excited seokmin was when joshua first joined the team, of telling the younger that it's always a bad idea to fall in love with a coworker. in chan's case, being interested in someone on the opposite side of the law seems even worse—especially as a cop.
"i don't believe you," he says bluntly, crossing his arms over his chest. when the youngest just pouts, he relents and says, "just be careful, chan. there is so much that could go wrong."
"yeah, i know." he sighs. "but it can't hurt to wonder, right? to pretend everything's okay, just to ease the pain, if only for a little bit?"
jihoon only knows a bit about chan's last breakup, but he finds the younger so genuinely hopeful that he lets chan have his moments of wishful thinking.
☀︎☀︎☀︎☀︎
with no more leads on where vernon might be, jihoon calls it quits for the day. he leaves chan at his desk, still looking through vernon's social media profiles. he truly hopes everything turns out okay for the younger, hopes that he's able to find another connection as strong as the one he had—or maybe still has—with minyeong.
following a group of people he doesn't know the names of, he exits the building and starts his walk home. he zips his jacket up to his chin and grits his teeth as a cold wind blows, wishing he could get home faster.
when he's home, finally changed out of his stuffy work clothes and into comfortable house clothing, he forces himself to stop thinking about work. he goes to his desktop and opens up the most recent project he's been working on. he sees that the last time was close to a month ago, and he blanches. the perilous case has taken up so much of his time and energy that he's forgotten about his dear side project.
his hobby is making music, something that has been pushed to the back burner due to his actual job. he reminisces his university years when he was able to experiment with sounds and words—especially when he was burnt out from schoolwork. it is his way of escaping.
he spends the rest of the evening in front of his computer, trying to perfect the piece. he ruminates over and scrutinises each part for hours, but instead of feeling stressed or irate, he feels content. he sometimes thinks this is what he's meant to do.
unlike vernon, jihoon keeps all of his music to himself. he has a digital folder where they're all stored. it's not that he doesn't want to share them; it's that he has no one to share them with. he thinks about the music teams in korea, ones that write, compose, and produce for idols and idol groups, ones that are internationally known and have their names attached to big name artists around the world. he thinks that maybe he could be one of those people, that he might want to be one of those people.
but he's reminded that that isn't in his future. he has his life in korea, in the seoul police force, in the precinct. there's never been another option for him. music has to stay a hobby.
MINGHAO
if there's one thing minghao hates more than liars, it's ignorance. he reasons that most people have a pretext for lying, whether big or small. sometimes, it's to keep someone safe or to keep oneself safe. sometimes, it's for the sake of the situation and the outcome. ignorance, however, can be bypassed. if one has the means, they can learn what they don't know much about, discover or explore new things. he thinks that simply not knowing is different from active ignorance, purposely not educating oneself, or refusing to educate oneself. that type of ignorance is not excusable.
liars can be redeemed; ignorance cannot.
he likes his work as an investigator because it's his job to find out the truth. whether or not the motive is moral is disregarded; the point is to find out what actually happened, to root out the liars and the inconsistencies. he thinks it's a near-perfect job for him.
on the other hand, he wishes he could dance again. the four of them danced together before he, soonyoung, chan, and junhui were pulled onto the perilous task force. it was only a side thing, there for when they had time, but it made minghao's heart feel full. it's something he loves dearly and misses greatly.
without a second thought, he sends a text to their little group chat.
me
hey do you guys wanna go dancing next friday?
i really miss it
soonyoung
and hanging out with us, right?
me
sure
chan
i'd love to!!
junhui
let's go after work?
minghao smiles at his phone, at soonyoung's teasing, chan's enthusiasm, junhui's ability to be serious (at least when it comes to making social plans). happy with the freshly made plans, his energy returns to him, and he spends the rest of the night giddily watching television, waiting for friday to come.
when it finally does, he couldn't be more thrilled to both hang out with his friends and finally be able to do something. the week had gone by slowly, agonisingly slow. though they had two strong leads, they were at a standstill as the cyber team worked on digging anything more up. in the meantime, minghao felt useless.
a little before five, the four of them change from their work clothes to casual clothes and exit the station. they pick up some bottles of water and snacks before soonyoung finishes the drive to the little dance studio a bit away.
the studio is owned by a couple slightly older than minghao, perhaps in their late twenties or early thirties. they're always very nice and let them stay into the very early morning hours. at one point—before the whole perilous case, which has been ongoing for almost a year now—they even had a key so they could lock up when they were finished. minghao thinks it's been returned since then.
half of the pair perks up as they see the quartet enter. "you're finally back! it's been so long! i'm guessing work has kept you all busy?" when they receive nods in response, "well, it's good to see you all again. i think someone's in the one you usually use, but the rest are open."
they set their belongings down and warm up, trying to get their blood flowing before starting. the stretching period is calm and full of small talk and laughter. it's not long before they turn on the music and tune into a different headspace, one with only dance on the mind.
they spend hours there, sweating profusely and hearts beating fast. during the moments when minghao is taking a break, after gulping down water and catching his breath, he languidly watches the way soonyoung's torso moves, the facial expressions chan makes, the fluid motions of junhui's arms. he's always admired the three of them, how talented they are, how they each have certain areas where they excel, how dedicated they are (when time and their jobs allow, of course).
they stop close to ten, electing to eat the snacks they brought. as they sit on the studio floor, they recall and reminisce about past cases in different parts of seoul and the few in other cities, about past memories that bring them joy and remind them of their years before knowing each other and working together.
deciding to stop for the night, they pack up their things and wave to the person sitting at the front desk as they leave.
"that was a lot of fun," junhui says, zipping up his jacket as they make their way to soonyoung's car.
"yeah, we should really get back into going more than once every few months," replies soonyoung.
"maybe it can be our version of the vocal team's karaoke night," chan suggests.
"if we make it the same night as theirs, they can't make us come," says minghao, though he doesn't actually mind tagging along. he likes it when they're hanging out together, all nine of them. "and no one even mention combining them. i'd rather not get kicked out of every place in the city because there are too many loud and probably drunk twenty-somethings."
with a successful night in the bag, the chill in the air feels less threatening as minghao walks from the car to his apartment. he sees minying and jilong curled up on the couch in different stages of sleep and smiles endearingly at them.
he grabs clean clothes and takes a quick shower before turning the living room and kitchen lights off. he whispers a soft "goodnight" to the two sleeping figures and slips into his room without a sound.
flopped across his bed, he scrolls through his social media feed and sees that he's been tagged in some posts, photos taken from that evening. he grins and leaves witty comments in return.
it's after twelve when he finally thinks about going to sleep. he's spent the time between showering and now rereading his favourite book from his childhood in a weirdly nostalgic but happy mood.
most times, living in the past does more damage than good, but it serves as a reminder of how things have changed, for better or for worse.
YIN
it's such a bizarre situation yin finds themselves in: sitting across from the incomplete band of misfits in their well-kept apartment. but yang at their side gives them a semblance of normalcy.
"we have a proposition for you," hongjoong says, head tilting to the side. yin only raises their brows in response. "we want to work with you."
"you want to—what?" they deadpan.
"we want to—" he starts again.
"no, i got that. i meant...why, i guess. why do you want to work with us? and what exactly would you be doing?"
seonghwa takes the reins, explaining, "we know that the light gang alternates between giving you and the police information—which means we don't know whose side they're really on—so we want to help you and perilous out. makes it a fairer fight, don't you think?"
"additionally," hongjoong says, "you've helped us so much. we want to return the gesture."
yin knows he's referring to the events of what feels like forever ago, when yin granted them guaranteed safety as they found a new home in seoul, leaving behind wonderland and utopia. yin remembers it like it was yesterday. they're still upset that the win for utopia ended in wooyoung's death, even though they didn't know him well. seeing the rest of the golden lights continue their lives without him has made their heart hurt like it's their own experience.
"we might not be gang members or spies, but we have our own set of talents and skills," adds san, looking down at his hands instead.
yin smiles. "there's no one else i'd rather help us." they see yang nodding through their periphery. "and besides, you're friends with mingyu at least, right? i'm sure they'll appreciate the help, too."
yang interjects, "we mostly act as their backup because they tend to get themselves in trouble more often than not." yin's lips turn up at the grin yang reveals. "i'm sure you'd be extremely useful to their cause."
hongjoong smiles. "let us know what we can do. and if there's a way to get us in contact with them, we'd also make use of that."
"they actually live not too far from here," yang pipes up. "we'll have to make sure it's okay with them first, but we'll let them know of this advancement."
seonghwa seems to surprise everyone by saying, "why don't they come live with us?"
yin's eyebrows rise again, but they don't say anything. instead, they see the nudge to the ribs and the sharp glance from hongjoong. the two eldest have a silent and tense conversation without saying a single word, and yin finds it impressive.
with a relenting sigh, hongjoong says, "all right, fine. if they want to, they can live with us."
yin shrugs. "we'll ask that as well."
mingi reasons, "i don't see a problem. we have plenty of space, and getting to know some other people would be nice. not that i don't love you guys, but it gets tiring sometimes."
"well, whatever they decide, i think we should let you know now that we'll be pretty absent for the next few weeks," yin says. "we have a wedding to attend."
"and it will take you a few weeks? to attend?" yunho asks, a little incredulous.
yang slaps yin over the head, huffing as they laugh. "it's our wedding. we have to plan and attend our wedding."
all seven of them have expressions ranging from stunned to delighted to confused. yin then realises that they probably don't know either of their true identities, hence the bewilderment. although it's been a while since they left utopia, yin isn't how sure they've caught up on recent news or figured out who they were.
"that's exciting," seonghwa says with a sweet smile. "congratulations, you two."
"not to be rude, but should that mean anything to us?" yeosang asks, and yin can't blame him for not particularly caring.
"not really," yin says, shrugging it off. "don't worry about it."
"both of their parents are rich, important people," explains jongho. "yin is the president's kid."
yeosang's eyes go comically wide, and he hurriedly apologises.
"seriously, don't worry about it." they can't help but laugh at his flustered state. "it's not widely known, and i want to keep it that way for as long as possible."
"if you're president park's kid, then you're chae min yeong, right? and you're yang ji yong. the marriage was recently announced on the news," san says.
yin nods. "while our names are known, yang has done an excellent job of staying hidden, and very few people know us—as yin and yang—to be chae min yeong and yang ji yong. but enough about us. we'll go talk to perilous and let you know."
as they leave the apartment, the golden lights fade into the darkness, along with the sun. yin lets out a long, loud sigh.
"what's wrong, qin'ai de?" yang wonders, gently wrapping her arms around yin's waist.
"there's just a lot going on, jagiya," they answer, head dropping onto yang's shoulder. "and there's the wedding on top of it all."
yin loves the way it feels as yang's fingers slide through their hair, lightly stroking the exposed skin on their hip with the other hand. it's the physical touch they crave the most; they're happiest when embraced in a hug or fingers are entwined with another's.
"everything will turn out okay," she tells them in a soft but assured voice. she presses a kiss to their forehead, and yin all but melts into the touch. this time, the sigh is from contentment, feeling safe in yang's arms.
"i love you," they let out, eyes closed. "i love you so much."
"i love you, too."
in the days after hongjoong's proposition is presented and accepted, the wedding looms closer and closer. the arrangements go mostly according to plan, with only a few hitches that are quickly fixed due to the fast-working team their parents have hired. with a little over two weeks left until the big day, the future seems to be at their fingertips, just a touch away.
yin is leaving the apartment they share with minghao, headed towards one of the possible wedding venues. they meet up with yang as they scope out the place.
the venue is something akin to an american country club, with high ceilings and a raised platform that likely acts as a performance stage. there's a kitchen tucked into the back and full bar space. it has a very american feel to it, which seems out of place to yin, but it's definitely not the strangest thing they've ever seen.
the person showing them around is an older man who wheezes a little too much when he breathes and spits a little too much when he speaks. the wedding planner takes diligent notes, but yin and yang share a glance and silently convey rejection.
they thank him for his time and effort and promptly leave. the planner asks them for their opinions, and they rattle off reasons as well as excuses. the planner takes more notes. when yin looks over their shoulder, they see the pros and cons of the few paces they've already visited.
the next place they see is a park out of the busiest parts of the city. there are fewer cars and buildings around and more space, so it's less likely they would be disturbed. yin thinks it's pretty, even with the bare trees and mostly dead flowers, but they know it won't stay like that forever. maybe things will be blooming again once april arrives.
the last place they visit for the day is a courthouse on the outskirts of the neighbouring city. it's smaller than the main one in seoul, but the sheer vastness of it doesn't fill yin with a sense of dread.
of the three, yin likes the courthouse the most. its capacity seems like enough to fit the people both yin and yang would invite (as well as some extras they don't necessarily personally have added to the list), but not too big that it would be overwhelming.
yin's lucky in the fact that they and yang have similar tastes in this sense. they both prefer a smaller, indoor venue that's away from the capital city. when it comes to nearly everything else, however, there are clear differences between them.
the day is nearly over by the time they finish. yin feels a wave of exhaustion flood through their body as the pair is driven back to their apartment. they put their head against yang's shoulder and start to drift off, not caring about the uneven pavement and occasional honking.
"myin." a gentle shake. "myin." a harder shake. "minying!"
yin's eyes fly open. "huh?"
"we're home." yin feels yang's arm around their waist as she slides them out of the car, supporting their weight as they make their way to the front door.
"is it bedtime?" they ask through a yawn.
"not yet, qin'ai de. it's dinner time."
yin hums sleepily and nods. "okay."
after changing into house clothes, they heat up leftovers and eat dinner at the dining table, discussing their thoughts on the three venues of the day.
"while i liked the courthouse the most, it seems so formal," yang says.
"i agree. it felt a little too picture-perfect, like there's not enough...personality," adds yin. "i thought it was the best out of the three in a practical sense."
yang grins over her bowl of noodles. "i think we should keep looking."
yin feels absolutely ridiculous because it's such an easily avoidable oversight, but it somehow slips through the cracks. when they finally realise, the consequent action is messy and unscripted.
"will you marry me?" they gasp out, eyes wild and heart beating far faster than it should be.
"what?" yang asks, caught off guard as they make dinner a few days later.
"i realised neither of us ever proposed," yin hurriedly explains. "we just agreed to get married. we don't even have rings or anything."
yang stares with wide eyes and an open mouth, food already forgotten. she bursts into loud, happy laughter, then presses featherlight lips to theirs. "you're so cute. we can get rings later." another kiss. "that night, you told me you've known you wanted to marry me since we were fifteen. i've known since we were thirteen because i've been in varying degrees of love with you since we were kids." a third peck. "i thought it was a given."
yin is too taken aback to say anything—to voice their argument of "i just wanted to make sure" because their anxiety-ridden brain likes to tell them otherwise, to say "it was so ambiguous and untraditional," even though everything about the pair is ambiguous and untraditional. there are so many thoughts running through their head, yet none of them sees the light of day. they continue to look at yang with big eyes and pursed lips as they try to force something—anything at all—to come from their uncooperative mouth.
yang smiles so softly, so kindly, that yin's sure their brain will dissolve into nothing or their heart will finally explode into pieces. "of course, i'll marry you." she takes both of their hands in hers and says, "i would burn the whole world down for you, just to make sure you're safe and happy."
"i can't believe you're real," yin tells her, tightly embracing her. they put their head on her shoulder and let out a content sigh. "i can't believe you're real and that i get to be with you for the rest of my life."
because no matter how morally grey they might be, don't they deserve love, too?
it had taken a lot of convincing on yin and yang's part, but they were eventually able to persuade perilous to move into the golden lights' house. the warehouse returned to abandonment as they took their few belongings and vacated. now, yin and yang visit the house when they have the time and aren't utterly exhausted from their days. it's refreshing to see both perilous and the golden lights look like something has changed for the better for them.
admittedly, one of the reasons—small but still present—yin is grateful that perilous agreed to live with the golden lights is because they can't help but be a little grossed out by the warehouse. while the four have made it seem homely, it doesn't negate the fact that it is still full of rust and germs and that they live off of solar power. yin thinks it's being the child of such rich people that makes them think this way or perhaps simply only knowing that type of privilege their whole life, but they can't help what they think.
seonghwa is always excited to know how their wedding plans are coming along, so each time they visit, they share any new details that have developed. seonghwa gushes about colour palettes and flowers, dances and venues. he praises their choices but also lets them know about his preferences.
"hwa, maybe tone it down a bit?" hongjoong playfully scolds. "it's their wedding."
"yeah, when you two finally get married, you can plan your own," mingyu teases from his spot by the stove.
seonghwa snatches an apple from the fruit bowl and hurls it at mingyu, who instinctively dodges and runs into wonwoo. wonwoo smacks him over the head and resumes stirring the pot of soup they've been working on.
yin smiles fondly and sombrely at the domesticity of it all: the eleven of them crammed into the kitchen and acting like a family. they long for that type of relationship with friends, but with the lifestyle they live, it's not something that's easily attainable.
but for now, yang is enough.
"i'd still like to go to your wedding if you can pull it off," murmurs san from his island stool, spinning back and forth.
yin notes that he's been awfully quiet this visit, which is sort of unusual for him. although everything yin knew about wooyoung was solely from faraway observation, they knew he was the mood maker of the group (or: he talked a lot) and that san matched his energy well. when the two of them were together, they were a noisy storm of bickering and sweet gestures.
"we'll do what we can," yang assures him. "even if it's not the actual ceremony, you'll definitely be invited to the reception. and if it eases your mind, maybe we'll have a party that doesn't involve anyone who might want your heads on sticks."
yin chokes out a laugh at her words and nudges her shoulder. yang just smirks. "i don't think their crimes are that serious."
"in the pirate world, yes," interjects hongjoong. "on the mainland, no."
"and we don't kill people or carry out bigger operations like espionage or illegal trafficking, so i think we're okay, too," voices seungcheol.
yang shrugs. "you never know how the future will pan out." yin can tell the short, tense silence that hangs over them urges her to add, "sorry. i didn't mean to bring the mood down."
mingyu chuckles awkwardly. "well, i think the soup is ready."
after an hour of slurping, complimenting wonwoo, talking, and laughing, the soup is mostly gone. in their periphery, yin sees wonwoo go to the refrigerator and pull out a large dish. mingyu goes to his side, and they huddle over it as the rest continue to chatter. they tilt their head in curiosity but are soon pulled back to the conversation when they hear their name.
"what did you say?" they question.
"i asked if you ever planned on moving away from seoul," repeats yeosang blandly.
"oh." they take a moment to think but end up telling him whatever comes to their mind first. "i mean, yeah. i feel like there's not much left for me here."
yeosang nods. "that's kind of how it was with us with wonderland. of course, there were other factors, but i think it boiled down to needing to get away from there. and obviously, we couldn't stay on utopia."
while yin doesn't know what transpired before the golden lights came to utopia, they were there for what happened after. they understand the pain of not wanting to be in the same place where such an event took place and having no attachment to it.
the train of thought makes yin feel the need to check up on jeongin because it's been entirely too long since they saw him last, and they feel guilty for not seeing him sooner. they make a mental note to mention it to yang afterwards, though they're sure she'll want to see him, too. even if he still doesn't want to talk, at least knowing that he's okay will ease their mind.
"here's dessert," wonwoo suddenly announces, catching everyone's attention. the dish contains a newly decorated cake. there's a mix of messy and neat handwriting (presumably mingyu's and wonwoo's, respectively) with little doodles surrounding the words.
"you didn't have to," yin says at the same time as yang's "this is so sweet."
yin thinks their heart might melt at the gesture. no other act has made them feel like part of something so intimate, so much like a family. without a doubt, they'd found home in chan and yang, but being part of something bigger felt different, and it was something they didn't know they wanted.