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Gaon doesn’t think he had a sense of drama.
Desperate impulsiveness on a grand scale maybe, mostly the attempted murder variety. But planned dramatic stagings, not really something he has a knack for. That takes a sense of showmanship over practicality. When he’s calmly planning, he starts questioning the operational details, like, how would he stage a secret meetup in a dark empty aquarium? How would you pick the aquarium as the right place and not something like a shopping center basement? How do you even learn when the janitors are gone to sneak in?
Gaon plans his meetings in quiet restaurants instead- this one in a rice cake shop, early evening, in a middling part of the city. Quiet neighborhood, not completely run down, but there’s nothing fancy or worth much around. The building is old and showing its age. The shop’s small and half full, no one’s paying attention to each other, and Gaon thinks he blends in, in his shabbiest hoodie and old sneakers. All his public profile images are of him in suits and judge’s robes, neatly combed- even fans of his from the televised courts would question if he was just a look-alike. The sweater hood can go a long way into making his hair ruffled. No one’s looked at him twice except for a couple high school girls who’d giggled and tried not to make eye contact as he’d walked in.
Gaon doesn’t have to wait too long- he’s ordered and the food’s just been delivered when the door jangles open again, and an actual college student stumbles through, looks around for a second, before sliding into the seat across Gaon. He greets Gaon while he’s still moving and he barely waits long enough for it to be polite before shoveling dduk into his mouth.
Gaon’s been fooled by too many people in his life- he’s apparently a terrible judge of character, and he’d be an idiot to trust his instincts again, especially for something like this. He’s had this Kim Junsu looked into and, unless there’s a soap opera drama length commitment to character from a world class actor happening, the boy is mostly what he looks like – a young tired college student, running between classes, his job, and visiting his mother in the hospital.
That he spends his nights hacking instead of sleeping - Gaon should scold him and tell him to get his rest properly. If Gaon was a responsible adult, he would have. But, he just ends up buying Junsu a few meals from time to time- not like the kid would accept much more - and gives him jobs.
These dinner meetups aren’t strictly necessary. There are ways to trade information materials without getting face to face. But Gaon doesn’t really have the time, or the technological savviness to keep up with the current secure file sharing apps, and Junsu’s attempted to show him once, but gave up a minute into his explanation after seeing Gaon’s expression and told him to take pictures of everything on a separate disposable digital camera and absolutely never on his phone. So now Gaon has a collection of sim cards he’s keeping track of. He could courier them over, and he does sometimes, but he likes the face to face.
Sometimes, like today, he gets folders filled with pages printed off files from prior drops. He’d gotten a 5 minute lecture on how dangerous it was to print sensitive documents if they weren’t going to be burned immediately after, and firmly told he wasn’t allowed to print anything in his office, so he has to rely on Junsu for anything he wants to review in paper.
If national security ever got suspicious and raided Gaon's home and office, he has the plausible deniability that all his illegally obtained files came from an anonymous source.
Today’s bundle of papers is all bank transfer records in an out of a Cayman bank account, and Gaon can already picture the thrilling night he’s about to have, at home, alone, with all these numbers. Maybe he’d pull out his hole puncher and unconventional highlighter colours to make it extra exciting.
Dinner is over quickly, and the conversation is shallow, but Junsu thanks him for the meal and promises not to do anything brash and stupid with the information Gaon handed over tonight. They part at the door the restaurant, Junsu briskly heading home on foot. Gaon turns down the street, passing other stores and restaurants, and walks almost 15 minutes before he gets to his car- Not fancy enough to attract any attention, but not so cheap to look out of place in the courthouse garage. It’s so generic looking Gaon always checks the license plate first before he gets in.
He pulls off his hoodie and drops it onto the passenger seat, cracks the window a little, and drives back to the office with his shirt more wrinkled than usual.
***
In between trials, Gaon sometimes finds himself less busy than when he was on the televised court. It surprises him a little. He’s sitting on a High Court now, a number of appeals cases coming his way, and he’d thought that with the elevated position and the nature of the cases, there’d be exponentially more work that came with the responsibility.
But, while the televised court has plenty of resources and setup to have it function as an actual working court, resources and money don't always make up for decades of smooth functioning and all the administrative processes that came with that. The team of court researchers were worth their weight in gold, and case files get compiled quickly.
The other judges have commented on Gaon’s long hours- much longer than anyone else in the building sometimes- and Gaon demurely deflected by mentioning how much junior he was to the other judges, that he needed to study to catch up to them.
Kim Gaon’s appointment to the High Court largely seemed like a political gimmick at the time.
Justice Min had stepped down, Kang Yohan’s seat was obviously empty, and a few of President Heo’s personal appointments to the Supreme Court had quietly resigned before the public calls for a formal inquisition on all of the former president’s appointments got too loud.
Judges were reshuffled, promotions got awarded, and National Hero Kim Gaon, with his public approval and his involvement in ‘putting an end to the Kang Yohan Situation’, as an assembly member had muttered once, got a seat on a High Court years before he could have expected to ascend normally. Gaon could easily guess what the other judges had thought of him at first.
So he spends long hours in his office reading - casefiles, legal journals, prior rulings, legal dissertations. Enough that the head judge had begrudgingly acknowledged the effort he could see Gaon putting in.
Gaon doesn’t mention that his areas of focus are pretty limited - corruption, fraud, bribery, embezzlement. Not that Gaon plans to use much of what he’s learning in court.
It’s early evening, people are definitely leaving the office now, and Gaon’s wondering if he should order takeout at the office or head home to read there- if he’s done the grocery shopping he’s been needing to do or not- when his phone vibrates with a text message. Attorney Ko’s asking if he’s available for dinner.
As he’s pulling out of the garage, he does think he’d forgotten to buy groceries. He’ll be getting back home from the restaurant earlier than he would have if he’d ordered delivery at the office- the shops should still be open for him to pick up the essentials.
When Gaon pulls up to the restaurant, there’s plenty of parking. Other than the host at the restaurant entrance, the place seems empty, though there’s quiet indiscernible murmur of voices through the papered walls of the private rooms. Attorney Ko’s already seated, but he politely rises in greeting as the host slides the door open for Gaon,
As host disappears, Gaon returns the greeting as he takes his seat, trying to not look so awkward. Gaon keeps feeling like a child playing a made up spy game, and he can’t parse what Attorney Ko thinks of him. The lawyer always seems… bemused by Gaon now. Maybe that’s just his normal face. But, he’s gotten on board with Gaon’s plans, and invites him to dinner sometimes and tells him things that would get them disbarred and impeached, possibly arrested.
“Have you been doing well Judge Kim?”
He’s always so politely friendly when they meet now.
If they were strictly lawyer and judge, Gaon would think they had an excellent professional relationship. Gaon has actually mentioned Attorney Ko's firm to a court stenographer who’s was looking to resolve some family legal matter.
Politely friendly from the man who found him a realistic looking fake bomb for his unhinged revenge attempt against a senior justice, and witnessed to his desperate messiness after- Attorney Ko has him at a disadvantage. But Gaon is grateful for the professionalism, here, on their road to hell together. He can pull out of his own head and act like a normal human during dinner.
“It’s not too busy at court this week. The head judge is on vacation, so they’ve scheduled in some fast hearings. How is your case load?”
“Not too bad. A few settlements got finalized early, so I had some time in my schedule open up.”
They pause together, as steps come up to their door, and a server enters a moment later to deliver drinks and efficiently take their orders. As the server snaps the door closed again, footsteps leading away, Attorney Ko gestures to pour Gaon’s drink – more textbook politeness.
Service is quick and efficient here, and for a few minutes, conversation revolves around the entirely shallow details about updated filing guidelines at the Administrative Court. A few of the low level associates at Attorney Ko’s firm had complained about them recently. Gaon was aware of meetings taking place to implement the requirements at most of the other courts, to deal with some rule changes from the new minister of justice. Then their food arrives, quickly presented, and they're left alone. The server won’t be back until they ring the bell on the table, and Gaon can picture a lot of under the table deals being conducted here.
They taste their food, but Attorney Ko seems eager to share what he’s called the dinner for- he’s swinging to pull up his briefcase even before his chopsticks are even set down, and pulls out a tablet.
“We may have found a way to get to Yoon Donghoon’s weak spot. But not the way we expected.”
He flicks through the tablet for a moment, and slides it across the table to Gaon, client files open.
“There’s a potential new client at the firm – Kim Hyungmook. Hasn’t given us all the details yet since he hasn’t officially retained us as counsel, but he wanted to talk to us about Lee Wongsang’s appeal case.”
The name surprises Gaon-
“The construction contractor?”
Attorney Ko nods.
Gaon’s not following just yet-
“They’re appealing on evidentiary issues, that lower court judge made a wrong call on admitting something to the record. Even if the appeal blows up, it shouldn’t drag anyone new into the case. The results would only affect the judgment amounts.”
This was a case that was working though scheduling at Gaon’s court- he’d looked up the file quickly to keep it in mind in case he was assigned to it. Nothing had especially had leapt out on his skim, it looked like common commercial embezzlement: corrupt construction contractor stealing from rich real estate developers.
“It’s not in the appeal itself. If Lee Wongsang’s loses, he’s trying to blackmail Kim Hyungmook to pay the fines and pull string to get him out of prison. Kim Hyungmook’s trying to protect his assets, so he’s looking for advice on how to shield himself.”
Attorney Ko’s tablet has a collection of real estate development contracts, and Gaon soon sees where the connections start as a name starts popping out.
“Lee Wongsang used to work on some of Kim Hyungmook’s building projects years ago. And he either wasn’t stealing back them, or no one caught on, because they continued to work together even after the projects finished. Kim Hyungmook put a few buildings under his wife’s name, and he pays Lee Wongsang to manage those buildings part time. The wife’s running some businesses out of those buildings with her best friend, Yoon Donghoon’s sister.”
It’s times like this that remind Gaon that they live in a small country – somebody is connected to somebody to somebody, and all the rich and corrupt know each other.
“So, what’s Kim Hyungmook being blackmailed with? It’s related to these buildings right?”
“He’s not giving us all the details yet, but, he said that some of the work that Lee Wongsang did for him was off the books. So, something illegal obviously. He asked some vague questions on how to gets his records clear. We’ve given him some preliminary hypothetical proposals, but he’ll be back soon. The appeal’s scheduled 8 months out? That’s not that much time to clean up his dirty laundry.”
Gaon’s grabbing some pictures off the tablet screen now, names and addresses, zoning filings. It’s definitely a place to start digging, especially if it can lead to Yoon Donghoon.
***
Gaon sends a text message at lunch before joining a meeting, not expecting a quick answer. It’s still nearly nearly evening before his phone buzzes in response -
‘Shift is ending at 8pm’
Gaon considers heading home for awhile, but he says goodnight to the people who stop by his office to greet him, and he’s got a dozen browser tabs open to different parts to the database when he realizes it’s late and it wouldn’t be worth the back and forth. He stops by the break room to make himself a tea and an instant ramyun to take back to his desk.
The next time he gets up, it’s when his phone reminder dings. It’s gotten completely dark out, and his car is one of the last in the garage. When he drives downtown, it’s not as if the roads are actually empty, but the lack of traffic makes the trip faster. He parks, leaves his suit jacket in the front seat, and jogs across the street to the pojangmacha.
It’s that time on a week night when the crowd is mainly mostly drunk men in their now-rumpled white shirts and ties, emptying bottles of soju.
Lee Hyunjoong is already there and receiving his plate as Gaon reaches the table and gestures for some fishcake just to have in front of him. The boy- man, but he seems way too young to Gaon- doesn’t quite make eye contact when Gaon sits, and Gaon doesn’t take it personally. They’re far away from being comfortable with each other, and they’re both probably thinking the same thing whenever they meet.
Gaon imagines what Soohyun would think of this, Gaon tracking down her favourite junior police officer, the department rookie who'd looked up to her and had clearly been affected by her death, and convincing him there was a way to avenge her memory.
She’d probably beat him up and wring his neck.
But, it’s not like Gaon’s corrupted the kid, paying him bribes to look the other way while Gaon goes around town murdering people. He’s just, as a concerned citizen of the country, letting a police officer know of possible illegal activity that could be happening.
Gaon’s food comes by less than a minute after he’s gestured for it, and the ajumma drops off a bottle of soju he didn’t ask for.
Hyunjoong’s inhaled half his plate already, and looks to be relaxing now, not in an overly gloomy mood. And for once, Hyunjoong’s the one to break the silence.
“Hyung. That list you gave me before. Of the guys who were working for the president in the quarantine area. If I have questions about a few specific people, could I get more information about them?”
“I think so. If you have a list, I can see what’s out there. Nothing’s coming up in your police databases?”
“There’s a couple records, but they look a little weird, like someone’s deleted a bunch of stuff out of them.”
He pulls a folded up piece of paper out of his shirt pocket and passes it over. Gaon hasn’t introduced Hyunjoong around to other members of their conspiracy- maybe because introducing actual criminals like a hacker to a cop feels like a bad idea, maybe it’s to focus Hyungjoon’s view of their mission on Gaon to keep it personal.
“I don’t know how long this will take, but I’ll let you know if there’s anything. Is there anything in particular you’re focusing on?”
Hyunjoong shakes his head looking down at his plate again.
“It’s just a feeling right now. I don’t know what I’m looking for exactly yet, but I feel like I need to dig here.”
Hyunjoong finding a mission of his own to pursue is useful, and Gaon can just feel Soohyun’s furious glare bearing down on him for encouraging this.
“Don’t do anything stupid and get hurt when you’re investigating. If it turns out a bunch of violent thugs got hired by the last president to beat up people, and there’s still people in the hospital because of what they did, they’re not going to care that you’re with the police.”
Hyunjoong hasn’t seemed physically reckless yet. His dumb side seemed to be letting himself be talked into ignoring some fundamental professional rules and a few more laws, not running headfirst into situations like Soohyun had all the time, but Gaon doesn’t want another death on his hands.
“I know, hyung. I’m just reading right now. I won’t go near any of them without evidence and backup.”
Gaon couldn’t see his own expression, but his smile feels bittersweet.
“If we all could be smart like you. Everybody should know better than to just run into situations.”
They're silent for a moment, Hyunjoong working through his dinner, Gaon picking at his plate- neither of them are at the point where they can joke about the dead.
Eventually, Gaon pulls out his own slip of paper – a collection of addresses all clustered downtown in a wealthy district- and hands it over.
“And I hope you’ll continue to be smart about this. Something illegal is happening around these addresses. These buildings are all in Cheongdam, so there probably aren’t violent thugs roaming around, but there’s always going to be private security. Don’t do dangerous stakeouts. No one needs to be arrested yet, we just need to find out what they’re doing.”
Hyunjoong takes the list easily, and peers down at it-
“I know a hyung that owns a club near here. I already visit sometimes. Are these about rich fucks on your target list?”
“Sort of. There’s 4 owners for all those buildings, and they and a couple business partners are making millions they’re putting into foreign bank accounts secretly. The transfers for all of them happen together, and Yoon Donghoon’s sister is involved.”
Hyunjoong looks up at Gaon, probably tying to see if he recognized the name-
“Yoon Donghoon’s the former Controller at the Social Responsibility Foundation. He managed to get out of there without his name publicized too much. And now he’s working at the Ministry of Economy and Finance.”
Hyunjoong’s face hardens at the mention of the foundation, and he firmly folds Gaon’s list back up and tucks it away.
The official police investigation hadn’t turned up anything on Soohyun’s murder. Gaon wasn’t surprised, not with the foundation's involvement, even after it had been disbanded. But, Hyunjoong had been roiling with anger over it before Gaon had tracked him down. It had been easy to… harness.
Take advantage of, if he’s being honest.
Hyunjoon downs a shot of soju, finishing up his bottle, but he doesn’t move for Gaon’s untouched one, just cleans up his plate, and throws down a few bills on the table.
“I’ll message you when I find something hyung. Then you can nail all those fuckers to the wall.”
Gaon pays for his order and grabs the unopened bottle to take with him. They part at the street corner and Gaon drives home, adds the soju bottle to the growing collection in his fridge, and barely washes up before crawling into bed, so he can drive back to his office at dawn.
***
It takes a few weeks for the pieces to fall into place. And a little bit extra to erase some of the sources of information that started all this, but it’s relatively easy to elaborate on the angle that an off duty cop clubbing with his friends noticed something weird, and poked around in his free time.
And if his non-cop friends helped him get pictures showing illegal prostitution, small scale dabbling in drug distribution, and casual human trafficking, then got drunk and blabbed about the whole secret investigation to some reporters conveniently sent to hang out at the club...
Well.
Hyunjoong’s captain had screamed at him for awhile about not bringing the case to the department, but, technically, Hyunjoog hadn’t done anything wrong and they didn’t have the grounds to discipline him beyond a few weeks of undesirable scheduling.
And they couldn’t sweep this under the rung.
The initial articles were damning enough and made enough of an impact with the public to start an outcry. But when former PD of the now-defunct live court, with verifiable evidence -obtained from unnamed sources- started a five-part exposé on not just the properly owners and their business partners, but the circle of police and government employees involved, a number of whom have ties to the former Social Responsibility Foundation, the public is roaring about corruption and accountability again.
Gaon keeps an ear turned to gossip rolling through the court staff even if he doesn't join in. It’s all anyone's talking about these days, and he’s hearing some of the juicy details and updates as they happen. But, Gaon don’t know why he’s surprised to walk out of court for a brief recess, turn his phone on, have have a message from Attorney Ko with links to a few news articles.
The arrests are starting, and it looks as if 2 of the men caught up, both government workers, had left notes and locked themselves in their bathrooms with coal briquettes and found later by housekeepers. Also, Yoon Donghoon had been called in for questioning in an official investigation. Gaon almost missed the line in the article that Yoon Donghoon attended questioning his his attorney, a name that Gaon recognizes from Attorney Ko’s firm.
There’s a call that recess is about to end, and Gaon texts off a quick congrats to Attorney Ko for having his firm secure such a deep pocketed client, turns his phone back off and tucks it away before he reenters the courtroom.
It’s not until evening that Gaon messages around, checking into on reactions to the news.
There’s a smattering of tentative excitement over the arrests starting up. A couple responses back on what more there is to dig up on Yoon Donghoon to make sure his investigation ends with him buried.
After a few hours, there’s no response back from Hyunjoong, and Gaon considers for a moment and pings the kid’s location – not at the police stations- and gets in his car.
The kid’s at a street table outside a mart, halfway through a bottle of soju, another one empty already, and just a bag of crackers open. He doesn’t look surprised when Gaon sits down across from him - not wasted yet, but loose and open.
“Hyung. Does this happen a lot? I was only investigating low level violent criminals before, and the arrests are kind of easy.”
For a brief second, Cha Kyunghee’s blood is under Gaon’s fingers. Then the phantom sensation puffs away, his panic from the time just a distant memory, and there’s just the reality of a dead woman who protected all the criminal interests of her allies and got left behind in return.
“Soohyun had it happen a couple times. Her first one was on one of her early arrests, a few years ago before you joined. She said he left a note about feeling so guilty about the people he hurt, and decided to end it. But. She didn’t know if she believed him. Some people, they just can’t face losing everything. Their money, their status, their power, their freedom. So they take the cowards way out.”
Hyunjoong hums as he takes another shot, and Gaon’s catching on that this is more about putting Hyunjoong at ease rather than convincing him that their conspiracy is still worth it after a few deaths.
“Maybe the victims they actually hurt don’t feel better. Maybe it feels like they’re escaping justice because they’re not accepting their punishment. But. In the end, they won’t have any more victims. They’re not going to move on and touch anybody else’s life. So. There’s less harm in the world. I guess that's something.”
Hyunjoong stays quiet, but doesn't look upset.
He’s a smart kid. He could be the kind of smart to rise up the ranks, get promoted into positions where he could have an impact and do good. But only if his could learn to hide his disdain for professional politics, and listens to orders about not pursuing cases against well connected rich suspects who could pay to make investigations go away. While he’s a low-level department underling anyway.
He can learn to play politics.
Maybe Gaon’s biggest impact will be pushing some people into positions of power instead of just tearing down the rotting mold spores that have embedded themselves into the ruling class. If it’s up to him to help reform society, he has to add instead of destroy.
When Hyunjoon tries to order another soju, Gaon just bundles the kid into his car and drives him home. It’s a week night and there’s still work the next day.
***
The fallout from the Cheongdam conspiracy continues on for a bit, and the impact is bigger than Gaon had been predicting. It’s too chaotic to make any new moves now, the news cycle is entirely full up, and the holidays coming up means the court has scheduled off days.
On the half day, Gaon has no more excuses to work in his office, even if they weren’t locking up the building, and he runs out of reasons not to go home, other than the grocery store run he needs to make.
There’s no food in his fridge, and he’s out of rice, so he drives a little further out to the bigger store to stock up.
He finally makes it home, his empty house looming down at him from atop the stairs, and Gaon doesn’t feel like he could face that twice. He stuffs some of his grocery shopping into his backpack alongside his laptop, and slides it on. Hefting the 10kg bag of rice under one arm, he manages to get a grip on the rest of the bags with his other hand, and drags himself up to his front door, one stair at a time.
Gaon’s struggling too much with what he’s carrying - he’s dropped bag of rice to the ground so he can pull his door open, before the lights peering through the frosted glass door bothers him for a second. And then the door’s already swinging open to frame Kang Yohan standing in the middle of Gaon’s room, leaning partially against the kitchen counter window, reading one of Gaon’s law journals.
It takes a heartbeat, then two, before Gaon feels the bags slipping out of his fingers, and he makes a desperate clutch to keep them from falling – there’s a few glass bottles in there- and Yohan looks up slowly from the book in his hand. The look up feels so familiar it feels like Gaon’s been punched in the chest.
Yohan makes absolutely no move to help, and after another beat of just staring at him, dumbstruck, Gaon readjusts the grocery bags to clutch them in one hand, gets a grip on the corner of the rice bag, and shuffles everything inside to let the door shut behind him.
Yohan is barely a few feet away.
Gaon abandons the rice by door, kicks off his shoes, and takes a few steps forward, before he finally breaks eye contact and swings into the main room to circle around into the kitchen, giving Yohan a wide berth.
He can feel the stare along his back as he drops everything to the floor and gets at least the perishables into the fridge.
He considers stacking his dry goods on top of his fridge as if it’s a normal day and he’s alone at home, but he’s not a coward. Not today at least.
He spins around and Yohan is still there, leaning against the counter window, looking at him with that indiscernible expression Gaon’s never been entirely able to get behind. Yohan’s had a hair cut since Gaon’s last seen him – it’s shorter and styled in a way that could make him look slightly different to the generic person on the street.
Maybe Gaon wouldn’t have recognized him walking by. Maybe Gaon hasn’t apparently memorized the shape of the bridge of Yohan’s nose, and the curve of his chin and...
At least the counter is between them.
Gaon grips at the edges and meets Yohan’s eyes again.
Yohan looks bemused. The quirk of the expression is also familiar enough to punch Gaon in the chest, and he inhales sharply to make the feeling go away.
“Why are you here?”
Maybe it sounds more hostile than it sounds- is he feeling hostile? He tried again.
“It’s been nine months. What are you doing here. I mean in my house.”
In the back of Gaon’s mind, he knows he knows the exact number of days since he last saw Yohan, and it’s closer to 10 months, but he shuts that part up and focuses on the big picture.
“I had to take care of of some legal things that was getting difficult to take care of from overseas, even with a VPN.”
Everything is shutting down for the holidays, so Yohan must have arrived in the country earlier then – maybe a day, maybe a week. Gaon can feel his fingertips digging into the counter, and he tenses his jaw to keep the flood of questions in behind his teeth.
Yohan finally closes the journal and drops it onto the stack Gaon’s built on the other side of the counter. He still has to turn his neck to make eye contact, but he’s not pretending anymore that his full attention isn’t on Gaon.
“After my very public death”- Yohan smirks – “most of the estate and house were set up to go to Elijah automatically, but there’s still some messy administrative things that keep coming up.”
Gaon tenses up.
For as long as Yohan’s been gone, he hasn’t heard from Elijah either, and he’s always believed she was safe with Yohan and trying not to think much beyond that, but the not knowing had been eating away at him as much as the not thinking about it had been.
"How is Elijah?"
“She’s doing well. She’s coming out of a surgery and it was going to take a few days for her to be conscious, so it was a good time to come here, while she’s being looked after by all the doctors.”
“Surgery? Is she ok? What happened?”
Gaon’s heartbeat thumps and a million questions were going to spill out of him, and he didn’t know if he had the right to ask them all…
Yohan must be able to tell Gaon's about to go on a panic spiral - he sounds kinder-
“There’s a clinic in Switzerland that is working to help her walk again. Some surgery, some rehab, some mechanical aids. They say it’s going well. She can stand with a walking stick for a little bit now. This surgery is supposed to correct something in her spine and they say it’ll help her move her legs properly after she heals.”
The air rushes out of Gaon’s lungs, cool with relief.
“I’m glad to hear that she’s doing so well. That she’s getting help with that. I know I had no right to be, but I was concerned.”
Yohan hasn’t cut eye contact, and Gaon still can’t read his expression at all, but it sort of looks like Yohan’s softening for a moment, at mention of Elijah.
“She thinks you hate us. Or that she’s supposed to hate you. She’s gotten very good at pretending you never existed.”
That hits Gaon like a slap in the face, but Yohan continues on.
“You helped get me arrested, then I had to fake my death on national TV to get her out of the country. She’s decided that she’s now very loyal to me about the whole thing and that I was right about whatever I was doing to those people the whole time since it turns out I didn’t kill her dad. It was easier to let her purposely ignore you so she could focus on getting better, or she was going to ask to come back here and visit you.”
That Yohan and Elijah’s relationship had continued to improve from how they’d originally been when Gaon had met them, Elijah resentful and suspicious and hateful of her uncle now softening so much she’d take his side, Gaon couldn’t begrudge either of them for that.
“It’s good that she doesn’t hate being around you anymore.”
Yohan snorts-
“When she can actually walk for real, she’s going to go through every stage of teenage rebellion at once and then go off to America for college. It’s not going to last.”
“And. Then. What are you going to do if she goes to college? When you don’t have to take care of her anymore?”
“Hm. Maybe I’ll travel a bit. Do everything I couldn’t do in my 30s when I suddenly became a single guardian to a disabled kid.”
Gaon has no idea what that means, and he can’t look at Yohan anymore for some reason, so he pushes away from the counter. He grabs his backpack off the floor and, shaking the groceries out of it, he shuffles over to his desk to unpack it – his laptop, some files, a couple books.
How does he still know what the feel of Yohan’s stare feels like?
“Would you ever come back to Korea again?”
There’s a ‘hmm’ behind Gaon’s back-
“What would I do here?”
“You could blame the foundation for faking your death. There’s lots of things you could do. The public would love to see you. You’re a martyr now, you know.”
Yohan laughs, slightly mocking, mostly amused.
“I blew up a bomb on national tv and multiple people died because of it. Martyr or not, they’ve got solid evidence to arrest me for real. At least as a martyr, I’ve got a good legacy.”
Gaon twists the straps of his backpack in his hands, and stares at his desk.
“I know you’re publishing law articles. It’s not your name, but I recognize your writing.”
He points back to the stack of books and journals Yohan had been reading from, with articles advocating for social reform and decrying unconstitutional acts.
“You still care what happens here.”
Gaon doesn’t know why he’s pushing this -he tells himself he doesn’t know why he’s pushing this.
“And I can write those from anywhere. Besides, with you around, I don’t even need to be here.”
Gaon finally looks at him again, and maybe he can see a flicker of pride in Yohan’s face now. Maybe he’s projecting.
“So someone’s told you? Was it Attorney Ko? I haven’t gotten far but I’m trying.”
“You’re doing very well. I was thinking you’d use your position from the bench to try to change the laws, not cut down the rich and corrupt one by one. But then again, I could never predict you. You kept complaining about my methods, but here you are.”
“What do you mean change the laws? Nobody in the government seemed to care. They were trying to brush you under the rug, and when the public liked you too much to let them erase you, they just had a bunch of politicians make a bunch of useless speeches about fighting corruption and didn’t do anything else. The only thing that’s changing anything is taking out the rot piece by piece.”
Gaon’s blood is up, and he doesn’t know when he’s moved closer, close enough for Yohan to reach out and grab his shoulder, and the words die in his mouth as his hands come up instinctively, getting a hold of Yohan’s jacket - he’d know before they were just about the same height, but he doesn’t know why it hits him so hard now
“You know, I almost miss your naive innocence about seeing the good in the world. There was the rest of us, with mud and blood on our hands, swinging at each other in the shadows, and you thought if you fought fair and appealed to everyone’s goodness, it’d solve something. I’m almost sorry I broke that in you. But, I prefer this version of you much more.”
Yohan squeezes Gaon’s shoulder, and Gaon has no idea where the conversation is supposed to go from here, but if Yohan is going to say goodbye and walk out the door forever…
“I wouldn’t be doing this if it wasn’t for you. The least you could do is come back to see it sometimes.”
Why does it sound like he’s begging?
Yohan’s expression is changing- still inscrutable- as he opens his mouth to say... something, but his grip shifts, more securely higher up on Gaon’s shoulder, his fingers coming up to land at the base of Gaon’s neck, not holding that tightly, but before can control himself. Gaon gasps. Or something.
Something happens in the back of Gaon’s throat that makes Yohan’s fingers tighten for a moment, and the older man’s gaze sharpens immediately- Yohan can say all he wants that he doesn’t know how to predict Gaon, but he’s always seemed to know exactly how to read Gaon like an open book, and this has his attention now for some reason.
Gaon needs to pull away, cough, pretend it was a normal reaction. But he can’t move.
They’ve been in this position before.
Gaon is firmly reminded of the times they’ve been in this position before.
There’s always been something at Gaon’s back every time before, though, and Yohan isn’t actually taller, but he’s looming now.
Gaon’s knees want to buckle but the grip around his neck is keeping him from sagging. There’s no support except the hand around his neck-
Gaon doesn’t know when he’s lost control. Maybe it was when he had thought Yohan was dead, and he’s just been like this since then. But Yohan is here now, and he’s got a firm grip on Gaon, and Gaon should be saying something. He needs to move...
A couple minutes ago, they were attempting to have a conversation around Gaon’s kitchen. And now, Yohan is starting down at him like Gaon’s under a microscope as he slowly brings his other hand up, telegraphing the move, and then wraps it around Gaon’s neck.
All the air loudly rushes out of his lungs. Some tiny part of Gaon’s mind is insisting that he should have excused himself and pulled away by now, but he doesn’t understand why. Yohan’s holding him up. The grip isn’t tight enough to cut off all of Gaon’s air, but it’s an effort to swallow and take a breath. There’s the feeling of leather creaking under Gaon’s fingers- Yohan’s jacket. Gaon’s vision isn’t swimming, he isn’t dizzy from a lack of oxygen, but everything's moving in slow motion when Yohan tilts his head a little to the side. And then Yohan’s grip tightens for a second.
Gaon jerks as he moans, and he still doesn’t understand what’s happening until Yohan steps in close into Gaon’s space - or is it Gaon pulling- plastering right up against him, and Gaon suddenly realizes he’s hard. His legs really aren’t feeling too stable. He wants a wall at his back. Or a bookshelf. Anything to lean against.
Gaon’s no longer thinking – he was never good at that with Yohan around- and he’s definitely the one who moves next, pushing right into the Yohan’s hands to snap at Yohan’s lip with his teeth, but Yohan’s has the leverage to turn Gaon’s head how he wants it and then they’re kissing.
It doesn’t feel like anything Gaon’s done before. There’s no gentleness. This isn’t the sweet connection of a burgeoning romance.
Yohan kisses like he’s wants to swallow Gaon whole- like he’s been starving for this, and Gaon’s just trying to keep up. The thumb right at the hollow of his throat makes him feel like he’s choking and it’s driving him wild, like he’s become feral. He doesn’t even know when they start moving, but it’s a small room, and it’s just 3 or 4 steps and then Gaon’s crashing backwards onto his bed. He hasn’t loosened the grip on Yohan’s jacket, so Yohan’s tumbling down right on top of him.
For a brief moment, Gaon’s air is cut off for real as they land and try to untangle their limbs, and Gaon’s suddenly dizzy for a moment. But the air comes rushing back as Yohan finally lets go with one hand, grabs one of Gaon’s wrists to yank up off his jacket- and then Yohan is rearing back to plant a knee between Gaon’s thighs and pressing up and Gaon loses his entire capacity for thought.
***
Apparently, at some point, they pass out.
It was early afternoon when Gaon got home, the windows look much dimmer when Gaon comes to, still half in his clothes, slightly pinned under Yohan. His arm’s twisted uncomfortably from being half in the shirt sleeve that’s tangled amongst the bed sheets, and he’s trying to get his limb back to ease the strain when the movement must wake Yohan up, because the weight on his other shoulder is suddenly gone.
Pulling free of the shirt is much easier, and it takes him a second before he’s staring up at Yohan. The room light’s still on, and even a little blurry-eyed from just waking up, they’re close enough that Gaon can sort of see his reflection in the black of Yohan’s eyes.
Gaon opens his mouth to ask if Yohan’s eaten yet - what else is he even supposed to say here – when Yohan suddenly reaches up and gets a firm hold in Gaon’s hair and yanks his head back.
Gaon’s breath is rasping even before their lips meet again. But even as Gaon’s reaching up to grab at Yohan, to cling to something, Yohan’s flexes his grip, and just as Gaon realizes he’s breathing into open air instead of into Yohan’s mouth, his chest hits the bed and there’s a firm hand on the back of his shoulder.
Gaon is absolutely not responsible for the loud whine that fills the room, and he feels like an animal just reacting on instinct now. When Yohan presses down, pinning him, snaking an arm around his neck to secure him in place, Gaon just lets go and lets himself be maneuvered.
***
Gaon definitely passes out again.
It’s completely dark in the room when Gaon suddenly stirs a little- something’s pulling him out of sleep, and it’s the weight shifting on the bed. A hand lands on his shoulder gently a second later, and there’s warm breath against his ear.
“I have to catch my plane. I promised to be back when Elijah wakes up after her surgery.”
Gaon nods – of course that makes sense- and tries to murmur something- he thinks it’s a goodbye- but the hand just squeezes briefly before it disappears. It’s entirely quiet again, and Gaon slips back asleep.
***
When Gaon wakes up again, for real, for a minute in the dawn light through the windows, it’s a normal day. Not a regular one, courts are closed and there’s nowhere for Gaon to go right now, but in the grand scheme of things, just another morning.
Then Gaon realizes it hurts a little to swallow, and his scalp is sore, his wrists are sore, his lower back is sore, his thighs are sore, and the entirety of last night come crashing back, and Gaon scrambles up out of bed.
There’s a full circle of bruising all around his neck, vivid and splotchy. The bathroom light’s washing all the colour out of his pale skin and making the marks brighter. His lower lip is split on the side, there’s the clear imprint of fingers around his left wrist, a full handprint sized mark on his hip, and what look like teeth indentations in his shoulder.
Gaon tries sounding out an ‘ah’, and his voice croaks as if he’s recovering from a sore throat.
The court is closed for 4 more days, and Gaon prays the bruising around his neck fades by neck by then – his judge’s robes would hide of some this, but not his button up shirts, and he isn’t even sitting on trial the first day back.
He showers and shuffles out of the bathroom back into his room. Yesterday's shirt is in the middle of the floor. Gaon shakes it out, drapes it over the back is his chair, then reaches over to pull his black slacks out from under his bed cover. Those are entirely a lost cause, and Gaon tosses them into the laundry pile, and finds his sweater and pajama pants to pull on.
There’s still groceries scattered over the kitchen floor from where they’d been abandoned the day before, and Gaon slowly puts them away to clear up the space to make himself a quick breakfast.
He’s pouring hot water into his mug for tea when he notices the flat box on the counter.
It’s dark, standing out against the white tile, and doesn’t look like anything he’d bring home himself.
Gaon stares at it as he finishes making his tea. He turns to pull the instant rice out of the microwave and dumps it into the bowl on top of a few refrigerated marinated vegetables. He carries the bowl with him, mixing, as he circles around out of the kitchen doorway, to sit on the stool on the other side of the counter.
Then he pulls the box closer and opens it.
It’s a tie.
A tie and a tie pin.
There’s no note.
The tie’s a pretty nice one- Gaon doesn’t recognize the brand, but the silk feels cool and smooth under his fingers.
There’s a pattern across it, shapes in a wispy gray-green that Gaon stares at while he eats. Then he recognizes the colour. He sees it all the time out the corner of his eye, in mirrors peaking out from behind his left shoulder, the faded shades from his years-old tattoo.
The bite mark throbs under his sweater, and Gaon feels his whole body flush for a moment.
He leaves the box open on the counter when he gets up to clean his dirty bowl. He can still it from his desk when he goes to sit down this with laptop and case files.
***
“Uncle says it’s not your fault...”
Elijah hasn’t called him. It’s a recorded video message that he’s opened up without headphone connected.
Gaon jerks to look up before remembering he’s at home and there’s no one around to hear.
“… and that I don’t have to be mad at you. So. I’m not mad at you. Bye.”
Gaon looks down at his laptop and clicks to replay the video again.
The stubborn pout is so familiar that Gaon suddenly feels homesick. Elijah looks good -healthy and well rested – and Gaon misses her.
But she’s shot the video standing- he can see a mirror behind her in the video and she’s standing up in what looks like her own room- and the clinic Yohan mentioned must be doing amazing things for her.
He saves the clip and watches it a half-dozen more times over the days before Elijah calls him for real.
It’s Saturday evening, and Gaon’s just cleaned up after dinner, when he gets the video call.
She’s trying to seem detached, but Gaon’s hasn’t forgotten how to see past her mask even after these months, and she looks happy to see his face on the video screen and not hiding it very well.
It’s awkward- Gaon expected that- but he asks how she’s been and how she’s feeling, and she answers honestly. She’s calling from her room again, sophisticated feminine décor framing her, and she doesn’t mention her uncle. Gaon doesn’t ask.
The following Monday, Gaon gets a generic looking small brown box via the mail delivery at his office. The sender isn’t listed as a person, just a delivery agency, and when he opens it up, a solid black case falls into his hands.
It’s a watch. The metal is solid and heavy in his hands and cool under his fingers as he runs them over the links. Side by side against the one Gaon’s already wearing, it’s easier to see which one’s the nicer one. But by itself, it’s subtle.
It looks a lot like that watch Gaon wore once at a really terrible party then returned to Yohan’s closet.
Gaon closes the case and opens one of his desks drawers to tuck it away. But a minute later he’s pulling it out again, opening it to stare at it for a moment.
Gaon does actually need to get back to his reading – there’s a trial coming up, and Gaon has to brush up on the law- and he’s wasting too much time questioning himself. He slips his own watch off his wrists, and leaves it in the fancy case as he closes the drawer with the back of his hand as he adjusts the new one comfortably.
The cool metal takes a moment to warm up to his body temperature, and he feels the weight of it for the rest of the day.
***
Elijah gets into the habit of calling. Saturdays are the easiest because of the time difference and their schedules, and she usually calls from her room.
She gets comfortable with him again, and the calls last more than just a few minutes. The progress of her recovery isn’t always linear- sometimes she seems exhausted and uncomfortable after some procedures, but over time, he sees how she’s improving.
Neither of them mention Yohan.
Except, sometimes after Elijah calls, packages arrive. Usually to Gaon’s office if it’s small, sometimes to his home. Some of them seem relatively normal- warm gloves; a soft scarf; a few more ties.
But the name on the box with the work appropriate dress shoes actually looks sort of familiar. He definitely recognizes the subtle branding on set of leather belts. The sophisticated looking backpack is probably more expensive than Gaon would guess at, and he pointedly doesn’t find out.
Gaon’s hacker Junsu finally gets gets all the data to come up with the list of real identities of close to 30 actual gang members who were hired by the prior president to beat and kidnap people in the quarantine zone, now working for another crooked politician to rough up one of his opponents and their supporters.
Gaon just doxxes them all. Coordinates a post with all their names, address, images of their ID cards, school records, criminal records, and all the messages between them and their corrupt clients and releases it anonymously on an online message board. Hyunjoong, already having staked them all out, coordinates the arrests like he’s had time to prepare for it.
Even with properly conducted arrests, it does get sticky for awhile as a number of gang members refuse to be arrested without a fight, and the crooked politician goes after his rival personally in a fit of rage before the police gets around to him.
It’s about 3 days of mild chaos, fights on the streets, and a excited online frenzy of journalists digging through the politician’s work and life to find his friends and co-conspirators.
It's a happy coincidence that Junsu’s mother finally wakes up then from her coma, on her way to recovery after getting beaten across the back of the head at the quarantine zone.
The box of crisply folded white dress shirts that come after- appropriate for work and clearly well made- look so suspiciously low key that Gaon gets curious and looks them up.
He chokes on his dinner when he finds the website- people pay how much for a shirt?
One of the court researchers, and older woman who seems to appreciate Gaon’s politeness and helps out if Gaon asks for favors, comments that Gaon is looking well put together these days.
Gaon hopes his ears aren’t glaringly red as he thanks her and escapes back to his office with the right reference book.
Gaon isn’t suspecting anything when Elijah calls him one weekend, but it immediately it looks strange. The background in the video when it opens up seems to be a living room that Gaon hasn’t seen before with Elijah standing in middle of the room. And she’s glaring like Gaon hasn’t seen since he first time he met her, but she’s staring off camera.
“Gaon-sshi”
She’s not looking at the video. She’s still staring off-screen like she can turn whatever – or whoever- she’s glowing at into stone with her eyes.
“If you’re going to be my step-uncle, wait until I’m away at college. Please. Do. Not. Ever be gross in front of me.”
Her words are text-book formal.
And then she hangs up.
After that call, Gaon gets a sweater in the mail at home.
It’s definitely a nice sweater, soft and warm and a little oversized, but it doesn’t seem like it’s excessively more expensive than something he could buy for himself. It’s just damn comfortable.
He pulls it on as he makes himself dinner, rolling up the sleeves since it’s a little warm, and doesn’t take it off even when he crawls into bed.
***
One vindictive man, going through a divorce from rich chaebol heiress, blows up and goes on a rant in front of divorce court to his laywer. His ex-wife spent years donating enormous sums of money to the Social Responsibility Foundation, including their human experiment project, to gain tax benefits, she doesn’t get to pretend to be poor now to screw him.
Gaon’s had nothing to do with the ex-husband’s melt down, he’d just had a reporter hanging around the court to find dirt on the heiress. But now she and a few of her friends are being charged with tax fraud after an investigation, and Gaon decides to just take the win. Finding some damning details quickly to back up the accusations is something Gaon can coordinate quickly now, and the story gets released like a bit of juicy gossip- it catches on like wildfire.
Attorney Ko seems pretty impressed about this one, but doesn’t ask follow up questions. He’s more interested in one of the heiress’s friends, another chaebol legacy, but one working part time as an executive in her family’s company. There’s some accusations against the company about covering up hazardous manufacturing defects in their products, and Gaon promises to help dig up information to help.
Elijah calls, as she does on Saturdays. It’s evening for Gaon, but she’s sitting outside again in the daylight, spring starting to bloom up behind her.
It’s been over a year and a half since the bombing at the Live Court building, and Gaon is doing a great job ignoring the fact that he knows exactly how many days it’s been since he’s last seen Yohan. Or spoken to him, or even heard about how or what he’s doing.
“Would you be able to pick me up at the airport?” She gives a date.
Gaon nods-
“Yeah. I have a car now. I can pick you up- wait- are you coming back to Korea?”
She nods, looking happy, and Gaon’s heart swells in fondness.
“I wanted to spend some time in Korea again before I go to college. And I can can walk now so I want to visit all the places I couldn't before. My ”guardian”” -she rolls her eyes as she says it – “has to stay here for a bit to do something that makes no sense to me and sounds like legal gibberish, and he said I can’t fly out out early if I don’t have anyone around to catch me if I trip or something. And I can’t walk for too long yet without getting tired and he thinks I’m going to pass out somewhere. So. Can you pick me up front the airport? You can stay in your old room.”
“Yeah- yeah of course.”
Gaon’s hands are very very sweaty.
“Knowing you, you probably have a whole plan of things you want to do. I can check the court schedule and take some time off work to take you around to some of them.”
Elijah hums cheerily and promises to email over her flight schedule.
After they hang up, Gaon tries to go back to his case files, but he doesn’t last long before he gets up and cleans his entire bathroom from top to bottom, and then tackles his kitchen.
***
Gaon does a pretty good job not obsessing obsessing over the dates until one morning, he’s driving out to the airport, and it hits him that he’s going to see Elijah again. He wonders if she’s grown at all. Could he even tell if she has?
He’s timed it pretty well, and he doesn’t wave to wait long before an airline steward wheels her out of the terminal, a second pushing her bags out.
Elijah’s face brights when she spots Gaon, stunning smile lighting up her face, and Gaon’s cheeks hurt from returning it.
The wheelchair belongs to the airline. Elijah unhooks a walking cane off the back of it, and the stewards takes the chair away, leaving Elijah standing solidly on two feet, and Gaon collecting her bags. She walks slowly, but her expression is still bright and happy, and she’s talking a mile a minute as they head out to handicap parking.
Gaon holds back and waits while she navigates getting up into the passenger seat, and she doesn’t ask for help, managing pretty quickly. Her bags and her cane end up in the back seat, and then they’re driving out to the mansion.
“You’ve been gone for awhile. Do you know if the house is in ok shape?”
“Yeah. I called and had a couple housekeepers come by last week to clean up.They were supposed to come and get rid of all the dust and get the furniture clean and stuff. Not Mrs Ji though, her shop’s doing well.”
Even a memory of Mrs. Ji’s dishes makes Gaon want to smile.
They get to the mansion is good time, and Elijah pulls herself out of the car. She leans on the door for support while Gaon gets her cane, then she’s walking up into the house on her own.
Gaon has time to retrieve her bags and catch up to her she reaches the front stairs, and he lets her climb in front. She’s slow, and leaning on the cane, but she seems stable. Luckily, there’s way fewer front stairs to the mansion than Gaon’s home.
She does seem a little surprised when they go inside through.
The place looks the same to Gaon, from what he can remember, but he's nowhere familiar with it as Elijah would be.
“What is it? Does something look out of place?”
“No. It just looks a little different from this angle. I’ve always had to look way up to see the top of that lamp. It kind of looks ugly now.”
Gaon chuckles and follows her into the house. Elijah takes the elevator instead of climbing more stairs, commenting how the control panel looks weird looking down at them.
Her old room looks exactly how Gaon remembers, and he rolls in Elijah’s suitcase towards the long likely closet doors, as she stands for a moment by her desk with her computer screens. Then she sits down in the chair at the small table.
“It’s so weird that I had a chair in here. Why did I need one before?”
Thinking back, maybe it had been odd that the few times Gaon had hung out with Elijah in this room, the chair was already in here. He hadn’t really thought of it before.
“Did you have friends come over and hang out?”
Elijah shakes her head -
“No. I think you’re the only other person that’s sat in it since it was put here.”
“Well, that makes me special then. So. Did you eat breakfast on the flight? What do you want to do for food?”
Elijah suddenly straightens up and slams her hands on the table.
“I told them to restock the kitchen! I haven’t had a home cooked meal the entire time I was out of the country! That’s child abuse! I am a child that’s been abused!”
Gaon laughs like he hasn’t in forever, and goes down to make her lunch.
That night, Elijah insists he sleeps over. When he protests, saying he didn’t bring anything with him to change into, she just waves an impatient hand towards the end of the hall - “There’s a ton of clothes still here. Just take something from his closet” – and Gaon doesn’t love the idea of leaving her totally alone even if she’s old enough to be by herself for the night, so he washes up and finds his old bed in the guest room.
He’s up pointlessly early from his habit of waking up before dawn to go to his office, so he just uses the time to make an elaborate breakfast, and starts on making batches of vegetable side sides for later by the time Elijah comes downstairs.
She has a thousand compliments about his cooking, some of which are an obvious jab at “that incompetent idiot who can’t even use a rice cooker correctly half the time, why does he think he’s so smart if he can’t figure out a rice cooker” and lays out the schedule.
She has plans for days, demanding Gaon drive her here and there- clearly she’s excited to be back, and even more excited to be doing things that she couldn’t experience properly in her wheelchair. Luckily, she seems to know her limits well, and doesn’t hesitate to sit down and rest when she gets too tired, and Gaon’s entirely too happy to go off and bring her back drinks and snacks when she’s recovering.
Soon though, too soon, Gaon’s having to explain that he has to go back to work the following Monday. He can come back to the mansion to make dinner, but is she going to be ok during the day?
Elijah seems totally unconcerned and just wants to carry along with her weekend plans, and he indulges her.
Sunday night, Gaon gets rice warming in the rice cooker on the kitchen counter, and makes sure there’s plenty of prepared side dishes in the fridge that works well for breakfast stacked in the fridge.
He sets his alarm- he has to go back to his own place first to grab his files and laptop for work- and crawls into bed slightly earlier than usual while the light is still on in Elijah’s room. He falls asleep quickly anyway.
It’s not his phone alarm that wakes him. It’s pitch back when he blinks awake for a moment, still groggy and not understanding what’s happening, when the mattress shifts under him, and a warm weight settles against his back.
He breathes out and closes his eyes, curling back into a new comfortable position, and falls back asleep in seconds.