Chapter Text
“Greet your friend.” Hongjoong gestures behind you, nodding his head in the direction of the door. It couldn’t have been more than a few seconds since she called out to you, but your terror drags every second out to the expanse of infinity.
The world moves in slow motion as you turn your head. You hardly register her face before you’re fighting for release of your arm, throwing your elbow back into Seonghwa’s chest as hard as you can muster.
He doesn’t let you go; instead, he grabs your other arm as well, pulling you against him. You fight his grip, not taking your eyes off of her face for a second. You try to scream, try to think of a single word to say, but there is nothing that you can do. Seonghwa restrains you perfectly, not even flinching against your protests.
Haseul looks as scared as you feel as the realization catches up with her. At her side, Mingi wraps his own hand around her arm, locking her in place.
You hardly even process Mingi’s presence at her side, your eyes locked on Haseul as her face contorts in confusion. You struggle against Seonghwa’s hold on you, trying to do anything you can to get out of his grasp. He pays you no mind at all.
Hongjoong’s hand lands on your shoulder, squeezing you tightly. “Looks like you’re a bit emotional, (Y/n).” He clicks his tongue, leaving your side to approach Haseul himself. “San, why don’t you bring her to your apartment?” It’s not a suggestion.
You swing your head to look at San, your eyes wide with warning. There’s no chance in hell that you’re letting Haseul out of your sight, let alone leaving her with Hongjoong. San looks between you and Hongjoong, a pained expression on his face. This is the decision, the one he couldn’t make, right in front of him. You didn’t want it to come so soon, either.
Hongjoong sticks his hand out to Haseul as he approaches her, and you finally find your voice. “Don’t fucking touch her.”
He looks back at you, feigning confusion as he grabs her hand into his own. He turns back to Haseul, over enunciating his words to ensure that you hear them. “Sorry for the confusion, Haseul.” He shakes her hand, resting his free hand over their joint hands. “I’m Hongjoong, the…" he trails off, looking shy, "leader, you could say, here."
Haseul looks over his shoulder at you. Her confusion is obvious; she has no idea what the hell is going on. And she has no idea what she's gotten herself into, either.
Seonghwa squeezes you tighter to him, lowering his lips to your ear to whisper. "I will gladly gag you if need be, princess. Keep your mouth shut ."
You fight against him, nearly managing to knock your heads together, but he's quick enough to evade the strike. Bastard. Creepy fucking perverted bastard. You couldn’t give less of a fuck what Seonghwa threatens to do to you. All you want is for Haseul to get out .
Haseul still hasn't responded to Hongjoong. She looks back at him, analyzing his appearance. You have complete faith in her reasoning, you know that she'll see right through him. She's always been good at sniffing out the bad ones. This won't be any different, especially with the way you're being fucking restrained right in front of her. She'll know, even if you don’t dare say anything further. The less Haseul knows , the more likely it is that she can go, right?
Your gaze shifts to Mingi, then. He really needs to redye his hair. An absurd observation, given the circumstances, but it's true. He doesn't look as confused about the situation, his grasp on Haseul quite sure. You wonder if this fear is what Mingi felt when he saw you walk through those doors for the first time… but you doubt it. Mingi might have been confused, but he certainly wasn't scared for your life. He had embraced you, welcomed you.
He meets your eyes for the first time in days. It's brief, hardly a few seconds, but it's enough for you to see that he's gone. Whatever Hongjoong told him after your argument, he believed it. Proof enough is his presence here. He is Haseul's captor right now. Mingi and Mingi alone holds her in place. If he just let her go…
What a dirty fucking trick. Using Mingi. Whether it was designed to hurt you or make Haseul more trusting, it fulfilled both purposes. You're sure she was probably elated to see him after so long. And she had probably been so excited to see you, too. Fuck . How many people are you going to drag into this? How many people are going to be hurt because of you?
You think again of San, who still hasn't made his decision. He stands at your side, clenching his hands so tight it almost hurts your heart. Your poor San. Forced to choose and so soon after you told him he didn't have to.
Not that the choice isn't obvious. You know he'll take you from Seonghwa and drag you to your apartment eventually. You know he'll probably feel terrible and beg your forgiveness immediately after the door shuts behind you. And will you give it?
Your heart is already so soft towards him, you fear that you will. Immediately. Even before you leave the room. You’re already forgiving him, in fact, before the choice is even carried out. You don’t have much of a resolve, especially considering that he really has only one option. It’s Hongjoong or it’s nothing. He can’t have Hongjoong questioning his faith, not with everything that’s been going on.
“Hongjoong, nice to meet you.” Haseul doesn’t smile and her voice doesn’t waver. “What the hell is happening right now?”
Hongjoong chuckles, finally dropping her hand. “Do you want the truth?”
She looks at you again, a frown marring her usually beautiful face. “Obviously.”
“You’re going to die here.” Hongjoong shrugs, turning back around to you. “Unless someone learns how to behave. Speaking of, didn’t I tell you to take her away, San?”
You ignore his last question, a new burst of adrenaline tearing its way through you. What in the everloving fuck does Hongjoong think he’s doing? He thinks he can control you by threatening one of your best friends? That you’ll suddenly bend to his whim because he has another captive?
… Yeah, and he’s right. He fucking knows you. He knows your guilt, and he knows how it eats you. He couldn’t just use Mingi? He had to drag another person into this? Christ, not that you would want him to use Mingi against you, no, but… being the fault of one ruined life is better than two. Hongjoong is a monster.
Haseul surprises you, laughing as San finally latches a hand onto your arm. “Let’s go, (Y/n), please.” He whispers, lighting pulling on you as Seonghwa loosens his grip.
“No, I’m sure that I won’t.” Haseul looks at Mingi. “Let me go, kiddo. I want to talk to (Y/n).”
As soon as Seonghwa’s hands are off of you, you’re trying to tear out of San’s hand. As you suspected, his hold on you isn’t very tight at all, and it easily breaks from the full force of your body. You sprint toward the other group, your eyes locking with Hongjoong’s.
For a moment, you think he betrays a sense of… worry. But the look is gone as quickly as it appears, Seonghwa’s hands latching onto you and pulling you back so suddenly that your knees give out underneath you. Seonghwa catches you by your underarms, stopping you from falling all the way to the floor, but not being gentle at all about it.
“ Haseul! ” You finally find it in yourself to scream. “ Run! ”
She looks between yourself and Mingi as Seonghwa yanks you to your feet, locking a hand over your lips. Whatever. You got the key message out. So long as she at least tries …
And she does. Haseul lets herself go limp, the sudden weight too much for Mingi to support with one hand. She slips right through his fingers, scrambling to her feet as she turns back toward where she came.
Much like yourself, however, she doesn’t get very far. Mingi is right behind her, scooping an arm around her waist and stopping her in much the same place they had already been standing.
Hongjoong laughs, then, clapping his hands together in front of him. “Aren’t you two quite the pair of runners? Tell me, Haseul, how was your drive in? Think you can run the eight miles to town? (Y/n) tried. And failed.” He smiles, entirely dropping any sort of ruse, even the usual charismatic charm completely ebbs out of him. His unfiltered self is more than upsetting.
It’s fucking scary. He’s normally scary, but, without even a minor reassurance of his humanity, Hongjoong is more terrifying than ever. His cruelty laid bare, his megalomania so strong that he can’t even reign it in for appearance’s sake… it’s too much.
You stop your fighting, not wanting to make anything worse. Which, clearly, you are.
“Are we done?” He asks you, pouting. “I was just starting to have fun, though. I could let you both go; we could play hide-and-seek in the fields again. Wasn’t that fun, (Y/n)?” He approaches you where Seonghwa has you locked in place. Your breathing is heavy against his hand. “Maybe the both of you could manage to get somewhere, together. Or, more likely, your friend would end up in the fucking pig feed.”
It’s in this instant that you give up. Hongjoong isn’t playing. There’s no chance that you’re going to be able to do anything to help Haseul at this moment; it’s better to play it safe. Not risk the ire.
Hongjoong smiles, but it’s not his usual smile. It’s utterly unhinged, a vein in his forehead making an appearance from the strain of his face. You try to back into Seonghwa, but he doesn’t budge as Hongjoong gets closer to you. He rests a hand on your shoulder, continuing. “What do you think, (Y/n)? Do you want to play? Or do you want to listen?”
Seonghwa removes his hand from your lips. Tears well in your eyes as you blink up at Hongjoong, your fear so great that you can hardly find your voice. “Hongjoong, I want, I… I’ll listen, please. Hongjoong, please don’t, don’t hurt her.”
He squeezes your shoulder too tight. “Are you sure? I’m happy to let you go.”
You nod your head, closing your eyes tightly in an attempt to not let any of your tears fall.
“If you insist.” He lets go of you. You let out a deep breath, opening your eyes to watch as he walks away from you and toward Haseul and Mingi. “Mingi, you’re going to take Haseul to her room. And, San, you’re going to take (Y/n) to your apartment. And you’re not going to let your girls out of your sight.” He glances between Mingi and San, his tone not changing at all, even when addressing them.
You can’t see San, but you can see Mingi. He nods, ushering Haseul out of the cafeteria. You watch her back as she goes, her looking over her shoulder to get one last look at you. It’s almost heartbreaking. You look back at Hongjoong, watching his shoulders bounce as he laughs to himself.
He really is sick.
San returns his hand to your arm, but you can’t look at him. You can’t take your eyes from Hongjoong. “(Y/n), please…” San pleads with you, and you don’t fight when Seonghwa lets go of you. “Walk with me?” He whispers, pulling you ever so gently as he starts moving toward the door.
You stumble at first, and San nearly whimpers as you force him to guide you out the door. It’s hurting him to treat you like this, you know, but you… can’t go along with it. You can’t just go. You keep your eyes locked on Hongjoong, even when it means turning your head over your shoulder to look at him.
He wiggles his fingers at you as you go, a taunting wave. ‘I win’ that wave says. And why not? Hasn’t he won?
You watch as Seonghwa approaches him, stopping a few steps behind him. You wonder if that little display had any effect on him. Does seeing someone you love be so utterly insane change the way you feel about them? Seonghwa never denied being scared of Hongjoong, did he? More than likely, Seonghwa is used to this behavior. He might even like it, for all you know about the freak.
San turns the corner out of the cafeteria and your spell finally breaks. You shiver, not able to contain the feeling of relief to be out of his presence. San slows his pace, nervously glancing at you as you continue down the hallway.
“Are you okay?” His voice trembles with his question, and you’re sure that he already knows the answer.
You stare straight ahead of yourself, willing your feet to keep going. Just make it to the apartment, and then you can let go. Just a few flights of stairs and you can rest.
San doesn’t try to ask again when you don’t respond. He leads you in silence, though his grip on your arm gets lighter and lighter with every step that you take. His hatred of putting his hands on you really is endearing, but there isn’t time to think about that.
You’ve got to figure out how you’re going to get Haseul out of here. There’s already an inkling of an idea brewing in your mind, but it might be… a bit… exploitative. And you’re not sure if you’re ready for that. But… It's Haseul. You can’t let her stay here. You’ll have to find it in yourself to not feel guilty when asking for help.
In the best case scenario, she would become another brainwashed follower (not that you could ever see that happening). In the worst… she would be another tortured prisoner like yourself. In fact, she would probably have it worse than you, considering that Hongjoong apparently has no special plan for her beyond using her to make you obey him.
The actual worst case scenario is something that you refuse to even consider.
Once you reach the apartment, San is barely even touching you. You let yourself in, walking determinedly to the couch, where you allow yourself to collapse. San shuts the door behind him, locking it before coming to stand in front of you. He stays quiet, frowning down at you.
You smile at him, though that quickly devolves as you begin to cry in earnest. You can’t help it. The waning adrenaline suddenly makes your emotions so much more vivid, sending you into a fit. You put your face in your hands, letting go of your self control for the time being. There’s no use in trying to contain your emotions, not here, not with San.
The depression in the couch next to you follows very quickly. San wraps his arms around you, resting his cheek on your back. From what you know about him, you’re sure that he’s probably following your lead. Have you ever cried in front of him and not been mirrored?
He sways with you, gently rocking you through your fit.
You just… don’t understand. How could you not have seen this coming? Doesn’t it make perfect sense that Hongjoong would exploit you like this? Didn’t it seem like things were going too well? You should’ve been prepared for a blow like this; did you really think that there was anything Hongjoong was above doing? Because, if you did, you were blind.
And you can’t get over how fucking scary he was. He had scared you in the past, sure. He’s always been scary. But that was… something else entirely. He’s had his moments of anger with you, yes, but even then he wasn’t so… brazen. It’s like he has an entirely different fucking personality in him, and you’re horrified to think that that is probably his true self. Without the bells and whistles, without trying to charm and deceive… that’s what he is.
You’d do well to remember that. Things were getting… a bit chummy there. Had you been reading The Answer ? Voluntarily? Christ, the idea is laughable now. What the fuck had you been thinking? Not to mention your other endeavors. Pathetic, honestly.
And, again, how are you going to get Haseul out of here? There’s… only one person that you could possibly even think of convincing to help you, and he’s currently holding you in his arms.
Is it wrong to ask him? When you know that Hongjoong is already on his ass? You would be putting him in danger to even ask him such a favor, but… its Haseul. Haseul . You can’t let your best friend rot here on account of yourself. And you can’t just not use every resource.
But… say shit goes south. Then Hongjoong gets rid of two people that you care about. And wouldn’t that be just your luck? Two people, gone in an instant because of your need to help one of them. That would be… unforgivable. You wouldn’t be able to bear that guilt.
But how the fuck can you possibly even consider bearing the guilt of Haseul being trapped here? Used against you? You can’t. You couldn’t possibly.
So the choice is simple, really. You have to risk them both. Maybe, just maybe, the universe will let you get your way this time. And, if Haseul is able to get away… you could get out of here. You could be saved, and not in the way Hongjoong wants. You can’t give up the opportunity that Haseul could escape and get the fucking police involved. So you have to try.
You let San rock you as you settle your tears. He probably won’t want to be near you after you say what you’re about to say, so you savor the warmth of his arms and the touch of his hands for as long as you can. You have to hurt him, have to. You can’t risk him not taking this seriously, and you can’t think of any other way to drive him to do what needs to be done.
If you asked him nicely, he could say no. He could try and reason with you and beg and plead that you don’t do this, because it could end up bad for you. And he would be right, but that’s beside the point. You have to be mad. You have to yell and scream and drive home your point. There can be no doubt in his mind that the only way to keep you is to help you.
It’s manipulation, pure and simple. And you know that it’s wrong, but… what else can you do ? Haseul has to get out, and San is the only hope that you possibly have.
San adjusts his hold on you once you lower your hands from your face. He looks at you, and, sure enough, he had definitely been crying as well. One of his arms remains around your waist, but his free hand grabs for one of yours. “I’m so sorry, (Y/n).” He swallows hard, a frown staying on his face.
You nearly crack. Then and there. How can you possibly go through with this when he’s… him? But you think of Haseul, probably terrified out of her mind in one of those tiny bedrooms with Mingi. You can’t let this happen to her.
You pull your hand out of San’s, standing up off of the couch. His hand on your waist lingers for as long as it can, but you quickly step out of his reach. Using the ball of your hand to wipe at your tears, you steel yourself. The quicker you can convince him that he has to help you, the quicker this can all be over.
“I can’t believe you, San.” You swallow back more tears as you watch his face contort in confusion.
He quickly sits up, leaning forward to reach for one of your hands again. You take another step backward, preventing him from succeeding. “What, (Y/n), what do you…” His eyes sparkle with fresh tears. “What are you talking about?”
You scoff. “You obviously knew about this.” You turn to go, planning to head back to the bedroom. If he thinks that you’re leaving…
San stands behind you, trying to grab onto your hand. “Wait, wait, (Y/n), just—” But you’re already taking off down the hallway, easily able to slip your hand out of his hold.
“Wait, (Y/n), you have to listen!” San chases after you, following you as you walk as fast as you dare toward the bedroom. “I swear, (Y/n), I swear that I had no idea!”
You stop in your tracks in the doorway to the room, your chest heaving as you turn to face San. “You didn’t know? ” Your tone is as accusatory as you need it to be. You almost find yourself getting truly angry with him. And you might, if not for the tears now pouring down his cheeks. “You’re trying to tell me that you didn’t fucking know that Hongjoong was bringing one of my closest friends here? When all of that shit is entirely your responsibility?” You’re yelling by the end of your sentence, stepping closer to San with each word.
San reaches out to you, snatching your wrist out of the air as you point at his chest. “Yes, that’s what I’m saying.” His voice is calm despite his crying. You try and wiggle your arm out of his grasp, not liking the feeling of being restrained by him. “I never would have done this to you, ever .” His voice deepens as he whispers through gritted teeth.
You continue trying to pull your wrist from his grasp. “I don’t believe you.” Your tears return with this sentence, the lump in your throat hard to swallow.
“Why not?” San retains his iron grip on your wrist, making you stay in place as he takes a step closer to you. He holds your hand to his chest as he stares down at you, his tears drying up.
You look up at him, hoping he can’t see through you. This is it. “I know that you ,” you spit the word with as much anger as you can muster, “are the reason that I’m here. Excuse me for not trusting you, San.”
He sets his jaw, breaking your eye contact to study the paint on the walls. He nods once, twice. “I deserve that, and you’re right.” He finds your eye again. “You might not believe me when I say this, but I swear to you that I regret it everyday. You’re free to hate me, but you have to know that I would take it back if I could. I’d sooner have never met you than have caused you all of this pain.” He pulls you closer, your chest knocking against your conjoined hands. “Which is why I will never hurt you again. Meaning, I would never have invited Haseul . Even if Hongjoong asked.”
“I don’t believe you.” You shake your head up at him, finally letting your tears fall again.
“How can I make you?”
The climax of the conversation reaches you and you’re hardly able to spit the words out. “Help her escape. Help her get the hell out of here. Then I’ll believe you.”
San’s expression doesn’t change. He continues looking down at you, searching your eyes for any indication of a lie. “Will you?”
You nod.
“Okay.” He looks at you for a second longer, taking in your expression, before letting go of your wrist and stepping away from you. “Stay here. I’m going to send… someone up here to stay with you. I don’t want Hongjoong getting mad if he sees me, somehow.”
You nod your head again, your stomach flipping as you realize that you actually just pulled that off. You do feel bad, you can’t deny it, the tears still streaming down your cheeks confirm your guilt, solidify it.
“Don’t worry if it takes me a while to come back,” he smiles, but it looks fake, “I will come back to you. Is there anything you want me to tell her?”
Pondering this, you take a second to wipe your tears away. You know it’s only making him hurt worse to see you cry. Might as well try to spare him of some of it. What would you want to say to her? “Just… tell her that I’m sorry, and that I love her.”
San reaches out to you one last time, cupping your face in his hand as he wipes your cheek for you. He pulls you close, leaning in at the same time to press a kiss to your forehead. It’s short, however, and he’s already walking out the door before you can process it. “Wait for me.” He calls behind himself, leaving you alone in the apartment.
---
You can’t really remember the last time that you had been alone, really alone. There was the time before the trip into town, but, even then, you had actually been surrounded by people. Now, you’re completely alone in your apartment. You could, theoretically, run away.
But Hongjoong made it quite clear earlier how he felt about that option. And you’re really not eager for a repeat of the corn fields. So you stay put. It’s better this way, anyhow. You wouldn’t be so stupid as to put Haseul’s escape at risk.
You do wonder who San will choose to send up to watch you, though. Probably another higher up… but… who? Who could he trust with the knowledge that he’s left you alone… for some… mysterious reason that is totally a coincidence that your friend just showed up and is about to mysteriously escape somehow…
The knock at the door alleviates the curiosity, at least. You call for whoever it is to come in, having moved to the couch since San left. It hadn’t been that long, maybe ten minutes, but you were not vibing with the silence. You’re quite used to hearing another person’s breathing 24/7, thank you very much.
You’re pleasantly surprised when Wooyoung peeks his head into your apartment. When he sees you on the couch, he lets himself in, gently pulling the door closed behind himself. “(Y/n), it’s good to see you…” He glances around the room. “But what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” Surely he knows something is up. but you’re not going to tell him anything that he doesn’t need to know.
Wooyoung frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why did San come crying to me about you two having an argument?"
Ahhhh. It’s a good enough cover, you suppose. Especially given the way that you’re positive your emotions linger on your face, it’s believable enough that you fought. And, anyways, San probably thinks that you did fight.
Wooyoung clears his throat, still frowning. “You should know by now that he’s… sensitive.”
You nod slowly, feeling genuinely apologetic. Again, its not like you wanted to hurt him, but… “I know, Wooyoung. It’s just that everything is so… I don’t know. Nothing can go right, and I guess I took it out on him.”
“Aren’t you happy to see your friend?” He asks, dropping any of the attitude that he had clearly wanted to have with you. “It’s a good thing, her being here!”
You clench your jaw, keeping your mouth shut. Wooyoung doesn’t deserve your anger anymore than San did. “It’s complicated, Wooyoung.”
He sighs, sitting next to you on the couch. “I know that things were hard for you when you first got here, but that doesn’t mean it’ll be the same for your friend.”
When you don’t reply, he keeps trying. “You like it here, now. Please don’t try to say that you don’t.” He reaches for your hand, but you pull it away before he can grab it. What the hell is he on? His voice raises as he continues. “Look around you, (Y/n). Is this so bad? Is San so terrible? Are the people here not your friends? Just because things are hard with Hongjoong doesn’t mean that you’re being tortured here; you don’t know how lucky you are.”
You look at Wooyoung in utter shock. You could’ve expected this rant from plenty of people, but Wooyoung ? To have Wooyoung say such things to you… You get to your feet, putting more distance between the two of you.
“You can’t possibly think that I’m lucky.”
Wooyoung smiles up at you, but with a malice that you’ve never seen from him. You don’t know what the hell has him so worked up, but you’re seeing an entirely new side of Wooyoung. “Do you think that you’re the only person here that had a hard go of it? Did you think that no one before you ever resisted being Chosen?” He shakes his head, the smile fading. “Plenty of us suffered at first, but we weren’t rewarded with instant status. You have no idea what I went through, (Y/n). You are lucky.”
There’s really no way for you to contain your surprise. Wooyoung. Wooyoung. Happy-go-lucky Wooyoung is, what, scolding you? Bitching you out? For not being happy that you’re being held hostage by a cult. And, for what reason, other than he, himself suffered through the same thing? Shouldn’t he understand your position more than anyone? He’s never shown you the side of him that you’re speaking to now, how were you supposed to know?
“But you, you’re—”
“I’m what? Devoted? Yes, I am, do you know why?” He waits for an answer that doesn’t come. “I can show you the scars. They’re only a couple years old.”
Wooyoung stands, grabbing the hem of his shirt like he means to take it off. No, you don’t want to see any scars. You reach for one of his wrists, locking his hand in place. “Please, you don’t need to show me.”
He snatches his hand out of yours so violently that he ends up smacking himself in the chest. “I believe in the Answer and I believe in Hongjoong. Truly. What got me to this point was not pretty, though I didn’t dare do anything as bold as you.” He looks you up and down and you feel as though he can see right through you. “And yet… I don’t see signs of the same treatment. I have to wonder what makes you so different.”
You never thought that you would find yourself scared of Wooyoung. You inch a few steps backward, keeping your distance. You don’t truly think that he would hurt you, but… There’s no way of knowing. You can’t trust anyone in this fucking place. Just when you think you might know someone, this shit happens.
“It’s the prophecy or whatever, I know.” Wooyoung shakes his head, ignoring your movements. “Hongjoong thought someone else was you, you know? Have you heard that one yet?”
You shake your head, but you mean it in more of a ‘please don’t tell me’ way than a ‘no I haven’t’ way. Really, you do not need to know. You don’t want to know. This is entirely new information to you, but you’re not ready to hear it.
Wooyoung smiles, taking a step closer to you. “He thought she was the one, but… she wasn’t. And what did Hongjoong do? How did he reward her loyalty?” You take another step back, but your back hits the wall before you can put enough space between yourself and Wooyoung. He advances further, looking down at you with a fire in his eyes that you never could’ve expected. “He had Seonghwa kill her. Her body decomposed in the fields. You can see her bones from the road in the winter.”
You won’t cry. You’re not going to cry. Not again. You find it in yourself to shove Wooyoung away from you, able to get away from the wall that is now suffocating you. He laughs behind you as you practically jog to your bedroom, desperate to be alone.
What the fuck. Genuinely, absolutely, positively, what the fuck?
You slam the door shut behind you, running your hands through your hair as you pace. What the fuck was the point in telling you that? What has gotten into Wooyoung? He was like you? Is he still like you? Does he want to leave? He’s mad at you because you weren’t abused like he was? He’s jealous?
None of it makes any fucking sense. If there was another girl, one before you, what would’ve made Hongjoong change his mind about her? And, if she was actually loyal to him, how on earth could he possibly have thought that you would be the better choice?
And why had no one mentioned her to you before? San had never told you anything like this. It doesn’t make sense. Why would it be such a secret? Because she’s dead? Was everyone just supposed to forget that she ever existed, just because Hongjoong decided she wasn’t the one to do… whatever the fuck it is that he needs done?
Your heart aches for the girl that came first. She didn’t deserve to die. She didn’t deserve to be brainwashed. Your stomach twists as you think of how she must’ve died, fully believing that she was fulfilling a purpose for Hongjoong. It’s sick. Hopefully she wasn’t scared. That’s the only solace that you can find for her.
And Haseul , Jesus fuck, Haseul is here! Where is San? Shouldn’t he be back by now? Shouldn’t he have done whatever it was that needed to be done?
There’s too fucking much to worry about. You can only be sick over so many different things at once. Every damned day in this place makes everything a thousand times more complicated.
Once San is back, you’ll ask about Haseul. And then about the other girl. And then about how he got here. And then about Wooyoung.
If Wooyoung was taken by force, it’s entirely possible that San was, too. You’ve never spoken about how he got here, or about his past life at all. It’s suddenly a bit stifling, the realization that there is so much about him that you don’t know. But, if San was taken like you were, couldn’t he… no, you shouldn’t get your hopes up. But…
San is already defying Hongjoong for you. Your relationship, for one thing, was outright banned in front of your eyes. Now he’s helping someone escape for you. If he’s willing to do that… couldn’t he be willing to help you? Couldn’t you get him to see your perspective, with a little bit more begging and pleading?
If San never wanted to be here in the first place, couldn’t you convince him to leave?
A knock on the door startles you. “Hey, (Y/n), listen,” Wooyoung’s voice carries through the wood, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said all of that, you didn’t need to know. You’re not even supposed to know.”
You hold your breath, waiting for him to try the doorknob. You hadn’t locked it behind you, he could very well open the door.
“Can I come in? I can explain things better, I swear.”
You gnaw at your lip for a moment, weighing your options. You don’t think that Wooyoung would hurt you. He’s always been genuinely kind to you, up until twenty minutes ago. He sounds like he’s calmed down, too. Wooyoung was one of the first people you… liked, here.
But… he was being really freaky. Like, really weird. He did not need to behave like that with you. You probably shouldn’t let him in, and yet you find yourself telling him that he can.
He inches the door open slowly, frowning in the doorway when he sees how upset you look.
You stop your pacing, opting to climb up on your bed and sit, staring at Wooyoung.
He doesn’t come in. Instead, he leans his shoulder against the door frame, his fingers nervously twisting together in front of him. “I shouldn’t have… let myself speak to you like that, (Y/n). I’m really sorry.”
Wooyoung hardly looks at you as he says this, looking down at his hands instead.
“You’re right, and thank you for the apology.”
He nods, wetting his lips. “I shouldn’t make excuses, and I won’t, but I just can’t help but wonder why so many of us were treated so poorly when you’re… not. And I don’t say that to make you feel guilty, but I just don’t really understand it. I know Hongjoong has his plan for you, but—”
“What is the plan, Wooyoung?” You feel only a little bad for cutting him off. You can unpack his words later, now is… really not the time to add more worries to your mind.
He finally looks up at you, tilting his head and almost hitting it against the door. “You haven’t read it, yet? Honestly, the text explains it better than I could.”
You resist rolling your eyes. Why is that always what everyone says? You don’t want to read it, you want another human being to look in your eyes and tell you what’s going to happen. Maybe it’s flawed logic, but you feel like hearing it from someone else would make it easier to stomach. Knowing that someone else knows, too, could be comforting, right? “Can’t you just give me the gist of it?”
Wooyoung smiles, though this one is actually humorous. “The gist of it is that you’re important to Universe One. It goes into detail about a girl that will link the universes; allowing free travel between them. The Sign of the Answer,” he taps the pins on his collar, “she’ll bring it to fruition.”
The room stays silent as you think of your next question. You glance at San’s copy of The Answer on his bedside table, the edges of the book crinkled with use. How many times has he read it, you wonder?
“How?” You finally ask, looking back at Wooyoung.
He shrugs. “Doesn’t say.”
Well isn’t that just great. Isn’t that just perfect. What are you supposed to glean from that? What is that supposed to entail for your future?
“When?” You ask.
“Doesn’t say.” Wooyoung repeats.
He pushes himself off of the door frame, taking a few steps into the room so that he can stand in front of you. “I’m sorry that this all has happened to you, (Y/n). But I need to emphasize this to you again… I know that you don’t want to hear it, but you are lucky. Things would be a lot easier for you if you simply… accepted your new reality.”
You cross your arms, looking up at him. He’s right, you don’t want to hear it. You’re not lucky . Lucky doesn’t mean being taken by a cult and treated ‘nicely.’ You wouldn’t say ‘aw, you’re so lucky that you only got raped and not murdered,’ to a Richard Ramierez victim, would you? No, you wouldn’t. Because other crimes do not minimize the ones being committed against you. You know that, at least.
“Things would be easier, you’re right,” you nod, “but I don’t want them to be easier.”
“That’s your choice, I guess.”
The conversation reminds you a lot of one that you had had with San outside of the barns.
---
Wooyoung stays with you through dinner, though neither of you make an appearance. You’re sure that Hongjoong wasn’t expecting you, anyways. After this afternoon, you wouldn’t be surprised if he wanted to keep you locked up in your apartment as punishment. You’d frankly be quite surprised if things carried on like they had been, after such a display from yourself and from him. You still don’t know what the hell got up his ass or why the fuck he was so scary, but you also don’t think you really want to know.
You’re not sure how Wooyoung accounted for his absence, or if he even did. For all you know, he’s allowed sick days every now and then or something. But would Wooyoung be willing to lie to Hongjoong for San? Would any of them lie to cover for each other? You really don’t know.
You watch the sunset through your bedroom window, wondering where San could possibly be. It’s been hours since he left, and each passing minute honestly only makes you feel worse. You’re really starting to feel guilty about… essentially extorting San into carrying out your bidding. It was wrong of you to use such a manipulative tactic, but it really had seemed like the only way to help Haseul. Even looking back on it with regret, you don’t know how else it could’ve gone. There was too much of a risk of San not taking it seriously enough.
But you also have to worry about San, too. What Seonghwa said about him has continued to linger in your mind. If Hongjoong really wants him out of the equation… this could definitely be grounds for it. If San is caught with Haseul… there could be serious repercussions.
At this point, you don’t know if you’re more worried about Haseul escaping or San getting caught helping her. Obviously you needed San to be the one to help her, but fuck you’re worried.
You feel guilty. And you feel guilty for feeling guilty. It should be your number one priority to make sure that Haseul gets away safely, but you’re also just so worried for San. You don’t know how long you were expecting him to be gone, but it certainly wasn’t the rest of the day.
Maybe you have some sort of attachment issues. The pain in your chest could be caused by any one of the reasons that you’re stressed, but you suspect that it’s San. You miss him. That’s all. It’s weird to not have him with you, especially when you’re going through so much.
Wooyoung has been alright company, at least after he stopped being a freak. But he sits in the living room as you sit in your bedroom, the both of you waiting for San to arrive back. Its a bit awkward, even though you’re in separate rooms. You wonder what he’s doing, but it’s probably much the same as what you’re doing. Thinking.
The sun is setting noticeably earlier these days. Long gone are the 9pm sunsets, each day inching closer to a 7pm twilight. You wonder how long it’s been since you arrived. You should’ve kept count, somehow. At least three weeks, you’d think. Maybe a month. Maybe a little more. It’s hard to tell. They still haven’t started harvesting the corn, which inclines you to believe that it can’t be much later than early October, if that. If it is October, that would mean that it’s been six weeks, which feels too long.
You’re really not sure.
The days have blurred together. Without any contact to the outside world, it’s impossible for you to have enough of an idea of what happened each day, let alone how many days ago something happened. There are no landmarks, no events that you can recall for certain happening on specific days.
You arrived, and time passed. You were chosen, and time passed. You got a job, and time passed. You decided to escape, and time passed. You were made to live with San, and time passed. You got close to San, and time passed. Haseul arrived… and time will pass.
It’s just one thing after another.
---
You’re not sure how or when, but you must’ve dozed off. You wake up only when the shower in your bathroom starts, startling you awake.
You’re disorientated the way you always are after a nap. You’re too hot, your jeans are too tight, your shirt is askew, your skin imprinted with the lines of the blanket you slept on top of. It’s dark.
Sitting up, you look toward the bathroom door as you straighten your shirt. It’s closed, but it must be San. Through the crack between the bottom of the door and the floor, the only source of light pours into your room. It shines brightly. The clock on your bedside table reads 1:09 A.M.
Fuck, that certainly took a lot longer than you had been expecting. Stretching your arms over your head, you try to wake up a bit. There’s going to be a conversation that you want to be wide awake for. You change into your pajamas as you wait for him to finish his shower, sitting patiently on the bed, ready to hear everything that he has to tell you. You want every detail of every minute. You need to know that Haseul is safe.
It is entirely possible that San will be too tired to talk. It’s also possible that he failed. That there will be nothing to tell you other than the fact that Haseul is still here and that there was nothing he could do. It’s surprising, really, that this is the first time such a possibility has really occurred to you. It’s probably more likely that he tried and failed than he tried and succeeded. Sneaking an entire person off of the farm without either being caught would be… difficult.
Your guilt reawakens at your ignorance. You could’ve set them both up for failure, and you hadn’t really considered it before this moment, when San is back in your bedroom. You had been worried about them being caught, yes… But you hadn’t considered the third option where nothing happens and shit is exactly as it was this afternoon.
Just when you think that the sound of the water hitting the wall is going to drive you crazy, the water shuts off. You turn toward the door, letting your legs hang off the side of the bed.
San opens the door, the light from the bathroom suddenly pouring out into the bedroom. Shielding your eyes with your hand, you try your best to look at him.
He stands in the doorway, staring back at you like a deer in the headlights (though you’re the one in the headlights, really). You can’t tell if he’s just surprised to see that you’re awake, or surprised to have you sitting right there when he just emerged from the bathroom with nothing but a towel around his hips.
His hair drips, the droplet hitting his collarbone and trailing down the rest of his chest before sinking into the towel. Hopefully your staring wasn’t as obvious as it felt. You look back up at his face, and you both start to speak at the same time.
“I’m sorry that I was ma—”
“Did I wake you u—”
You both smile, and you’re instantly feeling more relieved. San is back. And he’s smiling. That must be a good sign, right?
“You did, but it’s okay.” You reach out your hand to him, wanting him to give you one of his. “I’m sorry for being mad, earlier.” He steps closer to the bed and slides his hand into yours as you say this, smiling down at you. You really are sorry. The feeling of his hand in yours only reassures you that everything must be okay.
His hair drips onto your lap, dampening your fresh pair of pajama pants. “No, don’t be sorry.” His voice is soft, his free hand coming to rest under your jaw. “You didn’t say anything I haven’t thought myself. I’m sorry for waking you up, or, well, I’m sorry for everything, I mean. But especially waking you up.”
“It’s alright, San. How did… How did it go?” You squeeze his hand, hoping you don’t look too expectant. It’s natural for you to want the best outcome, of course, but you don’t want San to beat himself up if he couldn’t get it. You want Haseul to be safe… but, in a way, she’s safe here. As long as Hongjoong holds her over your head, he can’t hurt her, right?
San sighs, taking his hands away from you to make his way over to his dresser. “I… did my best to help her. I think she should make it.”
The words are an instant relief. You could nearly cry. “Really?” You keep your head turned toward the bathroom door, letting him dress behind you.
You would turn, it’s nothing you haven’t seen before, but the domesticity of seeing someone naked without any sexual intentions is too much for you right now. That can all be unpacked later. So you keep your head straight, no matter how much you want to look as he speaks to you.
The bed dips on the other side and you take that as your cue to look. He’s laying on his stomach, pillow punched up in his arms. He didn’t put a shirt on. “I got her in her car, at least. She shouldn’t have much trouble, unless someone heard the engine start.”
You do tear up, then. Holy shit, San really did it. He really got Haseul out of here. And that means… that means that you will be out of here, and fucking soon. You turn so that you’re fully on the bed again, sitting upright to look down at San.
“Hey, don’t cry,” he smiles, untangling one of his arms to lay it around your waist. He scootches closer to you, his face in line with the waistband of your pajama pants. “It’ll all be okay, you know?”
You laugh as he kisses your side, his lips tickling the sensitive skin. “I know, I’m just, I’m so happy, San. And I’m so… grateful. That you did this for me.” You brush his hair off the side of his face, tucking the longer strands behind his ear.
He smiles against your side. “I’m happy that you’re happy. But I’m sorry to be back so late, you were probably worried, huh?”
“Maybe a little bit,” you admit. “How did it all go, though? How did she seem? What did you do all day?”
San takes a deep breath, closing his eyes as he thinks. “She was… weary of me. Didn’t trust me at all, which made helping her a lot harder than I had been hoping. Once I convinced her that I was trying to help her, we kinda just hung out until it was late enough for me to get her car.”
“No one came to check on her? All day?” You frown, wondering why she would’ve been left completely alone. When you first got here, you at least got your three meals a day brought to you.
“Mingi was with her when I got there, I just told him Hongjoong had told me to take over with her.” San’s eyes are still closed.
That brings back a bit of your dread. If Mingi was supposed to be watching her, and she got away… Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck fuck. This could be precisely what Hongjoong was needing… Oh God. Ohhhhhhh dear.
Hopefully it won’t come to that. Haseul will be back with help, and soon. Help should get here before anything can be done, right? There’s no chance that…
Mingi will be fine. You have to believe that. Mingi and Haseul are okay. San is okay. Everything is going to be a-okay. No one else is going to get hurt and absolutely no one is going to die. No way no how.
“Are you worried?” He asks, disliking the sudden silence. “He’ll be okay. Everything will be. Lay down?”
How does he sound so sure? Is he really that confident that everything will work out, or is he just trying to comfort you? You have no idea, but you do as he asks, repositioning yourself until you’re on your side, face to face with San.
“She’s really okay?” You whisper, tucking your hands under your head.
San’s arm wraps around you again, pulling you closer to him. “She’s perfectly fine.” He presses a kiss to your forehead, much as he had done earlier. “Please don’t worry.”
---
Hongjoong slams the truck door shut behind him, already furious. If he was a less dignified man, he’d kick the tire as he walks past, but he doesn’t. Instead, he lets his anger out through his voice.
He’s already yelling before he even reaches the scene. “What the fuck is this?” He sweeps his hands in front of him, gesturing toward the mess. He stops across from Jongho, who looks no worse for the wear, despite his blood soaked shirt. It’s too dark to really see the color; it looks like Jongho is simply wearing a black shirt. But the way that the fabric clings to his skin is enough to know that its wet. And the girl in front of him is evidence enough of what could’ve possibly gotten him so messy.
Jongho shrugs. “Dead body.” The blood is still seeping from her, the puddle growing bigger and bigger. Jongho stands in the puddle, but he doesn’t seem to have any motivation to move. His shoes are already ruined. Hongjoong, however, takes small steps backward every few seconds.
Hongjoong’s jaw drops in anger. Obviously its a dead fucking body. He’s not blind. “Do you remember who I am, Jongho? Please, enlighten me.”
Hongjoong lets Jongho get away with a lot. He likes him. Jongho is… the same as Hongjoong, he thinks. There are differences; Jongho probably couldn’t get the ASPD diagnosis that he’s carried since the bright day that was his 18th birthday. Jongho has been in love, Hongjoong knows that, and that’s really… the key difference, he thinks. Otherwise, Jongho’s brain is wired the same as his.
Jongho knows how to get what he wants. He’s not afraid to be manipulative. He’s charming to the outside observer, intrinsically charismatic. He loves to have power over people (probably the reason he enjoys killing so much). It’s useful to have him around, so Hongjoong is willing to let Jongho have more freedom than the others.
As much as Hongjoong lives for the thrill of power himself, he doesn’t particularly care for getting his hands dirty. He’d much rather keep control of living people than have momentary control over someone that’ll be dead in minutes. So Jongho is quite the guy to have around, even if he’s a pain in his ass sometimes.
“You said—”
“I know what I said, Jongho.” Hongjoong doesn’t appreciate Jongho’s tone. “However, I didn’t mean that you could kill her in the middle of the fucking road, where, I don’t know, anyone could see?”
Jongho smiles at his leader, not the least bit intimidated. “Does it look like anyones around to see?” He gestures around the road, looking between the two fields to his left and right. “We just have to replace the gravel.”
Hongjoong grinds his teeth, rubbing his temples. Why can’t this shit ever happen in the daytime? He’s fucking tired. “ You can get rid of the gravel. I’m going back to sleep.” He ignores Jongho’s first comment out of the desire for sleep. Despite his soft spot for the kid, he (typically) still doesn’t tolerate open disrespect.
“What do I do with her?” Jongho asks as Hongjoong starts making his way back to the truck, almost having to yell after him with the speed that he’s moving.
Hongjoong stops, smiling as he recalls this afternoon. It was always the plan for Haseul to die tonight, he only wishes (Y/n) had taken him up on his offer. It would’ve been a lot more fun to play again. He turns back to Jongho, his smile growing wider.
“The pigs are hungry, I’m sure.”