Chapter Text
Seonghwa is burning up. No, that's not it; he's just burning.
Suddenly, Seonghwa becomes aware of the room around him, though he can't think why he didn't notice it before. The entire area around where he is seated - no, tied to a chair - is engulfed in flames. Seonghwa starts to struggle at his bindings, his throat raw from the smoke and his vision starting to blur. His ears are ringing, and all he can make out is an indistinct voice yelling his name.
“Seonghwa! Hwa, we have to--”
A crash to his left sends sparks flying and causes whoever is calling his name to cut off. The heat is becoming unbearable and Seonghwa is no closer to being free from the ropes around his wrists and ankles. His lungs feel like they are burning from the inside out and tears are now streaming down his face; making every color around him bleed into one indecipherable mass. Through the pain in his chest, he starts calling for help, hoping that whoever was crying out to him can make it to Seonghwa in time.
A boy appears in front of him, startling Seonghwa. He recognizes the boy’s face, knows it like the back of his hand, but he can’t put a name to the face. The stranger is the only thing he can see clearly through the smoke-filled room, but a sliver of relief slices through his panic for a moment. The boy before him has his wrists and ankles untied in double time and Seonghwa is suddenly in his arms. There is a deep gash on the boy’s face, cutting through his eyebrow and narrowly missing his eye, that Seonghwa only notices now, bleeding freely and staining the collar of the boy’s jacket. Seonghwa scans the boy’s face, starting to reach out to help stop the bleeding, but before he can make contact the boy is grabbing his wrist and pulling him up out of the chair.
Right, Seonghwa thinks, we’re in danger here.
Seonghwa stumbles after the other boy, being led towards what he can only hope is the exit. His lungs are burning even more now, coughs racking his body as he is dragged around flaming debris and over fallen pieces of the building around them.
Seonghwa pauses abruptly, a feeling like he has forgotten something important behind the fire taking over his body, freezing his movements. He looks to his companion and, against all sense, starts pulling him back towards the heavy blaze.
“Hwa, what are you doing? We have to get out!” The boy continues to tug on his wrist, but Seonghwa resists. He has the overwhelming feeling that if he can’t get that important something he’s left behind, everything he has worked for will be lost, but he can’t for the life of him seem to remember what that is.
Despite the confusion, Seonghwa follows that pull, halting the hand that is still attempting to drag him away. Frantically, Seonghwa starts saying, “We have to go back, we have to --”
Another crash, this time accompanied by a heated, metal beam unhinging from the ceiling and landing in between Seonghwa and the other boy. Sparks fly as Seonghwa trips backwards, hitting his head on another piece of debris, the beam trapping his foot. He can’t see anything anymore, his eyes are flooded with tears, and the fall has caused his breaths to come in gasps. Seonghwa is no longer able to breathe, he can’t get his foot out, he feels so nauseous he almost pukes right then and there. He can’t see, he can’t breathe, he can’t--
Seonghwa shoots up in bed, gasping for the breath that escaped him moments before, the ghost of a name on the tip of his tongue.
“Fuck.” Seonghwa is lurching from his bed and running to the bathroom so he can spill his guts into the toilet.
Five years.
Five years of these nightmares. Five years of waking in the middle of the night and seeing his dinner return in the worst of ways. Five years of that face haunting him every time he sleeps. Five years of having no idea who that boy is, but knowing his face is ingrained in every inch of Seonghwa’s mind.
He may not know who the stranger is, but he is so familiar with these nightmares that he starts his recovery process almost on autopilot. Seonghwa picks himself up off the cold tile floor and rinses the cooling sweat off his face. He grabs the glass that has a home behind the mirror above the sink for just these occasions, and fills it to the brim. He sips it over the next five minutes, steadily trying to rehydrate himself after the sweat and vomiting left him a bit faint.
Seonghwa looks himself over in the mirror, wincing at how haggard his face looks. Objectively, he knows he is an attractive man. High cheekbones, full lips, a narrow nose, and wide, dark eyes. Despite that, the sleepless nights have taken a hard toll on his body. His face is gaunt, and there are bright red marks staining his neck where he clawed at his throat in his sleep. He sighs, deciding not to linger too much on his reflection, knowing it's a losing battle at this point.
He fills the glass one more time and heads back into his room to check the time on his phone. The sight of his familiar apartment very much not on fire helps to calm him a bit, his room awash in the fading light of the moon coming through the small window near the ceiling. Picking up his phone from his rickety bedside table, the bright display blinds him momentarily as he unlocks it to check the time. 4:53 am. Seonghwa doesn’t have to be up for another hour, but he knows that after these kinds of nightmares, sleep will be hard to come by.
Seonghwa sighs, sitting on the side of his bed and hanging his head down, arms resting on his knees. His breath still hitches slightly, the panic from his dream lingering. He thinks back on the nightmare, focusing on the face that haunts him. The setting of the nightmare is always a little different, but the face and the fire remain the same every time. He thinks it must be related to his accident --some trauma related response, maybe-- but he has no recollection of the incident. It hurts his head trying to remember; the hazier bits of the dreams tend to evade him once he awakens, breathless and sweaty.
That face though. It never hurts him to remember that face. At least, it doesn’t hurt his head. He feels a hollow pang in his heart when he thinks of the beautiful boy that haunts his dreams. The angular nose and jaw, the high cheek bones, the fear that is always etched onto his face, those beautiful eyes that he feels his dream self fall into every time. Seonghwa only wishes he could remember his name. He is sure that it was someone he once knew, that he was close to, though the last five years would seemingly be evidence to the contrary. He has never once seen the boy since his accident. Seonghwa has heard before that you cannot dream a face that you haven’t seen in person, and he knows in his heart that it must be true for his dream boy. He doesn’t think he could ever conjure up the image of someone more handsome, with more love in their eyes than the stranger he sees in his head almost every night.
Seonghwa scrubs his hands across his face. He knows perseverating on the boy will do nothing to help him remember-- he’s tired that method out enough times over the last five years to know. He’s not even sure he would recognize the boy if Seonghwa saw him in person.The stranger couldn’t have been more than seventeen or eighteen when Seonghwa started having these nightmares, and the boys soft, teenage features remain the same no matter how much Seonghwa has aged since the accident.
Sighing, Seonghwa decides to start getting ready for work. He gets up from his bed, goes to the closet connected to his bedroom, and dons one of many sweatsuits he owns to travel to work in. He doesn’t much care what he wears to the hospital, knowing he will change into his scrubs once he gets there, so he tends to opt for something stylish but comfortable. He figures it's best not to look too shabby, not wanting to look out of place among the ritzy folks he usually encounters on his commute to work.
Seonghwa checks his phone again, noting that not much time has passed, and figures he has enough time to grab a coffee and breakfast in Utopia City, commonly referred to as UCity by those who reside there, on his way to work. On mornings like this one, where he has lost anything that was in his stomach, it is difficult for Seonghwa to be motivated to cook himself anything. He much prefers to go to his favorite coffee shop that sits only a couple of blocks away from UCity Hospital.
Donning his comfortable, white tennis shoes, Seonghwa grabs his work bag, the lunch he prepared the night prior, and unlocks the four separate locks on his door to head out on his commute. Seonghwa thinks four locks are a bit overkill, especially since each lock has its own unique key, but his landlord insists that one can never be too careful in the Outskirts, even this close to The Divide. Seonghwa is under no delusions that he lives in a particularly safe area, but the various keys he has to carry and use to lock his apartment every morning does wear on him enough that he would willingly throw safety out the door if he could only have a singular key.
Seonghwa begins his walk out of his apartment building, traveling through the unfinished, concrete hallways at a brisk pace. The exposed pipes on the ceiling dripping who knows what kind of liquid and the buzzing of the harsh overhead lights does little to improve his mood. His actual apartment is nice enough, but, like many places in the Outskirts, the building it resides in leaves much to be desired.
He exits onto the street, the sun finally starting to rise over the dilapidated buildings around him. It's a bit of a relief to Seonghwa, he isn’t too keen on traversing these streets before sunrise recently. If anyone were to pay enough attention to him and his route every morning, they would know that he passes over The Divide every morning into UCity. It wouldn’t normally bother Seonghwa if someone noticed him like that, but an increased number of attacks on Horizon citizens to steal Utopia City chips have been a persistent headline in the news over the last couple of months.
Seonghwa lives in one of the hundred or so nation-states that emerged in the years following World War III. With the presence of nuclear weapons and the hubris of political leaders, much of the world was destroyed during the war. Whole areas of the Earth are now uninhabitable due to destruction and radiation. Places like Horizon, the nation-state in what was once Asia, where Seonghwa and around 10 million other people reside, are some of the only areas on Earth that are safe to live. Well, mostly safe. Those in UCity, sitting in the very center of Horizon, never have to worry. They have the fortune (and generational wealth) to live behind The Divide, a wall which keeps out the radiation and the citizens of Horizon who are affected by it.
That’s where the microchips come in handy.
These microchips are implanted into each Horizon citizen at birth and are able to detect radiation in the body, and therefore determine whether or not a citizen can enter into UCity. Since UCity is a haven from radiation and its effects, it has flourished over the last one hundred or so years and become one of the world's richest and most technologically advanced societies.
Unfortunately, many people living in the Outskirts, the area of the country beyond UCity that is more heavily laden with radiation, have not been so lucky. Facing the challenges of potential radiation poisoning and The Divide’s steadfast barrier, the people of the Outskirts experience a much harsher life. Knowing that they are unlikely to ever have the money, or low enough radiation in their body, to make it past The Divide, many Outskirts citizens end up without a chip. Some people just fall through the cracks in the system at birth, but many decide to take the chip out themselves. There is a general distrust in microchips amongst those who live in the Outskirts, even if the chips that indicate a person can go into UCity are coveted.
Thankfully, Seonghwa takes care to never mention his profession to people in the Outskirts. As an added bonus, his chip happens to be covered by a small tattoo in the shape of a star. Not too many people have tattoos in UCity, so it helps Seonghwa blend in a little better in the Outskirts. He is still not sure when or why he got the tattoo, but he is thankful to his past self for the added protection it grants him now. As of late, Seonghwa has also taken to switching his route up every other day so no one would be able to discern exactly where he is walking every morning. It might be a useless tactic, but it makes him feel safer as he walks alone through the dingy streets towards The Divide.
Today’s route takes Seonghwa past some of the seedier parts near the border of UCity. As a general rule, the area of the Outskirts that surrounds The Divide is in a bit better condition than the rest of the Outskirts, but that isn’t saying much. The various businesses’ bright neon signs, the kind that a UCity business wouldn’t be caught dead with, light up the parts of the sidewalk that the rising sun doesn’t hit. Mixed in among these run down businesses are apartments similar to the ones that Seonghwa lives in and abandoned buildings that are falling apart at the seams from years of looting and lack of upkeep.
Around ten minutes into Seonghwa’s circuitous route through the Outskirts’ streets, he is finally able to spot one of the guard towers along The Divide that he uses to enter into UCity. The sun has risen above most of the buildings at this point, making the gleaming white of the guard towers and the translucent, humming force field that makes up The Divide sparkle in the early morning light. Seonghwa can’t help but feel that it looks beautiful. However, the thought quickly sours as he remembers, like he does every morning, the stark difference The Divide creates between the Outskirts and UCity.
He approaches the guard post, happily noting the lack of line to get beyond The Divide at this particular tower. There are rarely any sprawling lines to pass through, as there are very few citizens who can make the transition through that don’t already live in UCity, but it is always nice to have a short wait while walking to work.
He steps inside the tall building, smiling plainly at the familiar faces of the armed guards that protect this particular tower.
“Good morning, Seonghwa. You’re here a bit early this morning,” One of the guards running the scanning station says to him. Another guard gestures for him to put his bag in a smaller mechanism next to the body scanning machine. This one is meant to check his belongings to make sure no dangerous or contraband items are being smuggled into the city.
“Yeah, woke up a bit early today and figured I could get a head start on the line that's always at Aurora,” Seonghwa replies, referencing the very popular Aurora Brewing Co. coffee shop that sits on the main square of UCity.
The guard groans. “Don’t make me think of food right now please, my shift started last night and I haven’t gotten the chance to eat yet. I might have to follow your lead and go there once my shift ends, though.” The guard's face is friendly as he speaks with Seonghwa.
Seonghwa has talked with many sociable guards over the years, but he also knows not to take that at face value. He has witnessed enough guards like this one beating Outer City citizens for the smallest indiscretions. Though Seonghwa knows he likely has nothing to worry about as a model citizen himself, it still rubs him wrong to know the two faces these guards wear conflict with each other so distinctly.
Seonghwa nods at the guard with a polite smile, stepping into the body scanning chamber. The glass tube has footprints on the floor to indicate where he needs to stand for the scan, and he remains still as the machine quietly hums as it checks his body for the chip that indicates he can enter the city and any illegal items on his person. The process always feels a bit invasive, but it is typically over with quickly enough.
A screen to the left of the glass chamber flashes with his chip designation. “Laborer”, the screen reads, with “Lee Seonghwa” in bold below it, next to a small picture of himself. He used to have a higher designation, before his accident. Presumably, the designation was because he lived in the city with his family. After his accident, however, the chip was damaged enough that very little information was able to be pulled from the device. Bits and pieces of information remained, but with no one there to claim him as family, and with no money of his own to afford the lavish housing in UCity, the hospital designated him as a John Doe, and helped him find accommodations in the much cheaper Outskirts. The only name that he could remember was Seonghwa, so he even had to be given a new last name, which is currently on his repaired chip.
Thankfully, he was able to use the excuse of becoming a student at one of the UCity universities to keep his chip, and then finally his schooling allowed him to maintain the chip as a laborer. He is sure they would allow him to regain his original chip status if he bought property in the city, but he’s content enough with his current life that spending that much of his savings isn’t particularly appealing.
The scanning machine pings, a green light overhead signalling that Seonghwa has been cleared, and the glass pane in front of him slides open so that he can pass into the outermost ring of the city. Seonghwa nods his thanks at the guards before exiting the chamber, grabbing his bag from the other side of the machine it went through. He shoulders the bag, and begins his trek through the decidedly much cleaner Utopia streets.
Seonghwa checks his phone again to make sure he still has time to get to Aurora before work. With about an hour left before his 8am shift begins, he decides he has enough time to brave whatever crowd might have already started at the coffee shop. It takes him about twenty minutes to get to Aurora, and he revels in the feeling of clean air and safety that the streets of UCity provide. There are no ramshackle buildings to be seen here, the only kind found in the Outskirts. The Divide might be thin, but the visual and economic state of the two occupied areas of Horizon are miles apart. UCity boasts beautiful, white and chrome buildings, with accents of vibrant pastel colors, as far as the eye can see, equipped with the day’s latest technologies. Where Seonghwa is walking along the sidewalk, the streets are already buzzing with electric cars, bikes, and scooters. He can see holograms in store windows, marketing the latest designs in luxury. There are children walking on the other side of the road from him, clearly heading to school with their bookbags slung across their backs, likely filled with the latest handheld supercomputers. There is not a worry in their world for the safety of their walk.
As always, everyone Seonghwa sees is also dressed to the nines. The latest worldwide fashion trends tend to emerge from UCity, and it shows in its citizens. Though there is no particularly distinct style, each outfit is still out of the box and fashionable, even if it is just everyday wear or corporate outfits. The citizens of UCity like to stand out from the rest of the nation by exuding materialistic grandeur through every part of their lives, from their clothes to their homes and even to whom they associate with. As luxurious as the City is, it is still not without its class system. It seems that no matter where you go, Seonghwa muses, there is always someone who wants to be at the very top.
He arrives at Aurora Brewing Co. and is delighted to find that he has beat some of the morning rush. Aurora is a quaint coffee shop that sits in a highly valued spot near the very center of the city. Many large businesses have made their homes in the skyscrapers surrounding the area, as well as Horizon University, which makes Aurora a hot spot for corporate personnel and college students alike. The shop itself is designed after what old coffee shops apparently looked like before the world ended and had to be rebuilt. The inside of the shop is painted a dark green and decorated with dark leather couches, cozy table designs, and eclectic art of landscapes that are mostly gone. It has a much different vibe from the rest of the city, which tends to be decorated with bright pastels that compliment the chrome, highly advanced tech used everywhere else. There are a couple of baristas with simple clothing, brown aprons with the Aurora Brewing Co. logo, and pageboy hats milling about. Seonghwa isn’t really sure what they are employed to do, as the entire system of coffee brewing and delivery to the customers is completely machine automated, but he does admit that they lend to the warm aura of the coffee house.
Seonghwa is only behind two other customers this morning, and when he reaches the front he quickly orders. He recites what he wants, his usual iced americano and egg and bagel breakfast sandwich, to the small screen at the front counter, and offers his chipped wrist when the screen prompts for his payment. The microchips implanted in peoples’ wrists have evolved over time with everyday technology for convenience. One can find anything from money to medical records to grocery lists stored in these chips, able to be accessed with phone scanners and various public technologies around the city. It is convenient, but incredibly dangerous for those who, like Seonghwa, live in the Outskirts. His whole life could be stolen just with a knick to his wrist.
While waiting for his order, Seonghwa sees a figure moving out of the corner of his eye through the crowd with practiced ease. They must be a regular, he muses, considering how easy it is to get shuffled along by the crowd growing in the small shop. Seonghwa tenses, though, as he notices the small frame and dark head of hair of the figure. He whips his head around, searching the crowd frantically, hoping to see the familiar face of the stranger from his dreams. He makes eye contact with them, and, with a heavy heart, realizes that this person is definitely not the ghost that haunts his mind.
Damn, I’ve really lost it. I need some fucking sleep, Seonghwa thinks.
Seonghwa isn’t even sure what he would do if it was the boy after so long. He figures it doesn’t matter, knowing it was most likely never going to happen, but it would be enough just to know the stranger was real.
Seonghwa really looks at the person now, a man seemingly around his own age, as he starts to walk towards the exit of the coffee shop. The man is wearing as stylish of clothes as one would ever see in UCity, but with elements of Outskirts style. His clothes are artfully torn, a deep red and black in color, and his hair is two toned-- Black layered over blonde. Seonghwa lightly scoffs as he observes the man, baffled by how UCity citizens seem perfectly fine with cosplaying people from the Outskirts, but wouldn’t be caught dead on the other side of The Divide.
Just as Seonghwa is lamenting about the audacity of some of his generation, he sees the man bump into a sharply dressed business woman entering the coffee shop. The woman stumbles, but the man quickly catches her by her waist. Her bag tumbles off her shoulder, falling to the floor and spilling its contents. The woman gasps as she looks up, blushing furiously as the rather attractive man gently sets her on her feet again. He smiles down at her, clearly apologetic. He steadies the woman, slowly letting her get her footing as he starts bombarding her with apologies, his smile captivating her. Once she is firmly on her feet, he promptly bends down to help gather her items off the floor. The man slips the purse onto the woman’s shoulder, and slides his hand down her arm flirtatiously.
Seonghwa begins to look away, feeling a bit embarrassed by the display, but stops when he notices the man slide his thumb along the clasp of the woman’s watch. It’s an ancient model, clearly one designed prior to the war, and outrageously expensive because of it. The woman doesn’t realize she just lost a priceless relic to the man’s sticky fingers.
Seonghwa realizes though. It's sly enough that he thinks the untrained eye wouldn’t see it, but living in the Outskirts as long as he has taught him a thing or two. Crime rates are almost nonexistent in UCity though, so it's likely that almost no one in the shop other than Seonghwa noticed the oddity.
It’s impressive.
The man looks at Seonghwa, realizing that he just saw what occurred, and sends him a quick wink. Seonghwa is about to say something to the pair, hopefully to stop this woman having a very inconvenient day, but his order is called. He glances over when he hears the automated system spouting his name, and, in the split second that he loses focus, the man has disappeared out the door.
Seonghwa curses, quickly grabbing his to-go order and rushing out the door, hoping to see the mysterious man and maybe call him out on his behavior. The man is nowhere to be seen in the bustling city center, and, with a look at the large, iridescent clocktower that stands in the square near Aurora, Seonghwa realizes he doesn’t have the time to care. He starts his way towards the hospital, amazed at catching something so odd in the city.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Seonghwa loves his job. Really, he does. He doesn’t necessarily love the people at his job, but he can live with that knowing that he does real good for this world. There are so many things wrong with the society that he lives in, but he at least knows that what he does has a positive impact on people. Seonghwa works as a nurse at UCity Hospital. He has worked there for about a year and a half, having started during college for his rotationals and allowed to work here full time once he was finished with school. Thankfully, the hospital is always looking for new staff to accommodate the city’s ever growing population, so Seonghwa was able to get a “Laborer” pass on his chip and a decent salary to live off of.
Seonghwa always starts his day, having had the good luck to have a day shift, by going to the hospital’s locker room and changing into his pristine, white, UCity issued scrubs. Seonghwa has always thought white seemed an odd choice because of the potential for it to stain, but UCity Hospital sees so few major accidents that rarely do anyone’s scrubs have a speck of dirt, or otherwise, on them. UCity having the best technology in the world tends to allow for low risk in society, so the hospital mainly works as a medcheck center. Seonghwa mostly sees low grade patients-- some colds here and there, small burns, and the occasional hyper-paranoid person who thinks they have radiation poisoning (they never do). He is pretty sure that his own accident was one of maybe a dozen severe, freak-accident cases that the hospital has seen in the last five years.
To be honest, that accident is one of the main reasons he is where he is today. He remembers waking up in this very hospital, his head splitting from major head trauma and his body covered in burns. He couldn’t remember much of his specific life experiences, but he retained much of the general knowledge he must have learned over the 18 years (give or take, he’s still not quite sure when his birthday is) he’d lived prior to the accident. Much of what he has pieced together from the event comes from the medical diagnoses he received. He must have been in a fire and likely hit his head trying to make it out. He had burns and lung damage from the fire, as well as some short-term blurry vision. He has no clue how he made it out of the fire, or where the fire even occurred. According to the doctors, someone did bring him to the hospital.
He was completely alone when he woke up, however, and continued to be alone throughout his recovery process. Despite that, many of the doctors and nurses that treated him were incredibly comforting and caring. Since Seonghwa couldn’t really remember anything from his past, and had no one to turn to, he figured that it would be his life’s mission to return some of the kindness that he had received from the staff at this hospital.
Seonghwa likes to imagine that his dream stranger is the one that brought him to the hospital, but it does sour the thought of him a bit, knowing that means the stranger would have left him to brave a scary, unfamiliar world alone. Every day, he hopes to see his stranger in one of his patients (though he would never wish him any harm). He figures that is probably his best chance at finding the boy, considering he works at the largest UCH location the city has to offer.
“Hey, kiddo.”
Seonghwa startles, the voice cutting into his musings. He shakes himself from his stupor, not even having noticed his coworker entering the locker room. “Oh, hello Jiwoo. I apologize, I didn’t see you standing there. I didn’t realize you had this shift today,” Seonghwa greets. Despite his fatigue from his early morning, he perks up at the idea of being able to spend his shift with his favorite supervisor. Jiwoo is about the only coworker that he truly gets along with.
His supervisor is a lovely older lady that has been working as a nurse well beyond Seonghwa’s lifetime. He had worked under her as a student intern, and she had surprisingly taken a liking to him and requested he be hired and put on her service following graduation from the program. Jiwoo also happened to be intimately familiar with his condition, as she was one of the nurses who helped take care of him while still in the hospital.
“Oh I don’t, I’m just about to head home actually.” Jiwoo smiles apologetically at Seonghwa, knowing where his thoughts were headed. She glances at the door before lowering her voice and saying, “I heard Dohyun is on the same rotation as you today.” Jiwoo shakes her head in sympathy, starting to take her day clothes out of her locker. “I was positive he was supposed to be on last night's shift with me; I sincerely don’t know how he always manages to get his shifts switched to the best times. Maybe I’ll have a talk with some of the other supervisors to make sure no one is being taken advantage of.”
Seonghwa groans hearing this news, and, as if on cue, Dohyun walks through the door to enter the locker room. Dohyun is the perfect picture of Utopian society. He is tall, handsome, and comes from a sickeningly rich family. He is also one of the most classist people Seonghwa has ever met. Seonghwa isn’t sure he can handle the snide comments Dohyun makes to him during their shared shifts today with as little sleep as he had gotten last night-- he would love to see Dohyun say any of the vile things he says to Seonghwa on a daily basis to someone who grew up outside of The Divide, knowing that Dohyun would get a very deserved punch to the face. As it is now, there isn’t much stopping Dohyun from constantly berating Seonghwa because any form of violence, even a small schoolyard spat, is heavily policed within the Utopia City limits. However, it doesn’t stop Seonghwa daydreaming about every way he could make the man as miserable as he makes Seonghwa.
To put the icing on the cake of an already annoying situation, Dohyun enters the room in a huff, clearly in a foul mood. Seonghwa knows that he’s in for it today if Dohyun is starting off the shift like this.
“Good morning Dohyun,” Jiwoo greets.
“Good morning, Jiwoo,” Dohyun greets back, polite as ever to the supervisor. “How was your shift?”
Seonghwa knows that Dohyun won’t greet him, so he feels comfortable tuning out their small talk. He grabs his scrubs and heads to the men’s changing room attached to the locker room. He changes quickly, eager to avoid being in the same vicinity as Dohyun for too long.
Leaving the changing room, Seonghwa notices that Jiwoo must be changing out of her scrubs for the day. In her place is another one of Seonghwa’s coworkers, Victor. Unfortunately, he’s also Dohyun’s best friend. Seonghwa quietly pads back to his locker to lock up his belongings, avoiding eye contact with the other two men in the room. He hears them quietly talking, Dohyun explaining something to Victor about losing too much on the bets he made last night, but Seonghwa decides to ignore them in hopes that they won’t bother him.
Once he has successfully put his items away and grabbed what he needs for the day from his locker, he begins to head out of the room. As he turns, he comes face to face with a smug looking Dohyun. His coworker is leaning against the locker next to Seonghwa’s, having been hidden by the open door. There is a glint in Dohyun’s eye that Seonghwa recognizes all too well.
Dohyun smirks down at Seonghwa, then addresses Victor. “Do you smell that, Vick?”
Suddenly, Seonghwa feels a presence behind him, Victor having closed in and now breathing down his back. The two men are effectively cornering Seonghwa, not leaving any room for escape. Seonghwa feels Victor speak right next to his ear, “Yeah, Dohyun, I do. Wonder what it could be?”
“Smells like an Outskirts rat.” Dohyun’s grin has turned a bit feral. He slings his arm, seemingly amicably around Seonghwa’s shoulders, and leans in close. “You know, I was having a pretty bad morning, but I think I just found my entertainment for the day.”
Seonghwa visibly cringes at the words, knowing Dohyun is talking about tormenting him for fun. He knows his best tactic to prevent further harassment is to stay small under Dohyun’s threats and hope he becomes too boring of a target for his coworker. Attempting to step out from the barrier the two men have created around him, Seonghwa makes an effort to placate Dohyun. “Dohyun. I am sorry you are having a bad day, I hope it starts going better for you. I’m sure we will both have a good shift today.”
Seonghwa successfully manages to slip between his coworkers, heading towards the door with his head down. Before he can make it more than five steps, he hears Dohyun say, “Jeez, Lee, that’s a lot of positivity for someone who lives such a shit life. Must be the radiation going to your brain, maybe I should mention it to Supervisor Jiwoo. Can’t have a dirty hazard like you around UCity patients.”
“I don’t think that will be necessary, Dohyun.” All three men turn to see Jiwoo has reemerged from the women’s dressing room, having heard Dohyun’s last comment. “You know as well as anyone that he wouldn’t get past The Divide if that were the case. I suggest you and Victor start changing for your shift; you don’t want to be late.”
Clearly displeased with the turn of events, Dohyun stalks off to the men’s dressing room, Victor following on his heels. Seonghwa thinks he hears Dohyun mutter something about ‘defending sewer rats’ under his breath, but he decides he doesn’t care enough to think too hard on it. Instead, he turns to Jiwoo. “You didn’t have to do that for me. You know how those two can be, I don’t want them turning on you too.”
Jiwoo smiles gently at Seonghwa. “As all of your supervisor, it is my responsibility to foster a safe work environment for each of my workers, and that especially includes those who come from across The Divide.” Jiwoo walks over to Seonghwa, holding her scrubs in one hand and placing the other comfortingly on his shoulder. “It doesn’t hurt that I also have quite the soft spot for you.”
Seonghwa blushes at the comment, and thanks her with a bow of his head. With that, they walk out of the locker room together. Jiwoo waves as she heads towards the exit, and Seonghwa waves back, mentally steeling himself for spending his shift with Dohyun.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Seonghwa’s shift is, as expected, exhausting. He is thankful when it ends at 6pm, finally able to escape the monotony of patients and the constant jibes from Dohyun and his minions. Seonghwa is drained as he walks, ready to be home so he can just lay in bed for the next ten years.
He makes it to The Divide in record time, able to pass through with none of the tedious process that coming in requires. He takes a different route home than he did this morning. It's a much shorter route, a lot more likely for someone to notice where he is going, but he is just so damn tired that he decides to throw caution to the wind. Plus, it never hurts to take a shorter route on his way home, since he is always racing the sunset. Like his mornings, he tries to avoid being out after dark.
Seonghwa arrives at the entrance to his apartment complex, his heavy keyring already in his hand, as the sun is setting. He pauses briefly to take in the picturesque colors splayed across the sky. Seonghwa has always loved watching the sun set in Horizon. It is the one thing that is just as beautiful no matter what side of The Divide someone is on.
He smiles to himself and enters his building, traversing the familiar route through the bare faced hallways to his door. He quickly unlocks the various locks, having done this what feels like a million times. He steps past the threshold to his apartment with a weary sigh of relief, hangs his work bag by the door for tomorrow morning, locks up the door behind him, and heads further into the apartment to whip up a quick dinner. Seonghwa searches through the few cabinets in his tiny kitchenette, hoping that he has everything to at least make ramyeon. He finds an instant meal pack. It's no home cooked meal, but it will at least guarantee his food will be ready quickly.
Seonghwa takes the compact package and places it into his microwave. This particular microwave is one that Seonghwa splurged a bit on, as it has some of the more recent technological advances that make dinner much less complicated for him after long shifts. He turns the dials on the appliance to the proper settings that correspond with the type of instant meal he chose. He starts the microwave, and in about thirty seconds he has a bowl of steaming ramyeon, rehydrated vegetables and salty broth making Seonghwa salivate after the long day he’s had.
Fuck, I really need sleep if this is the meal I’m drooling over.
Coming out of the microwave at the perfect temperature (damn, he loves modern technology), Seonghwa doesn’t even take the time to sit and starts shoveling the noodles into his mouth. He finishes far too soon for his liking, and contemplates making another to satisfy his growling stomach. Noting that he only has a handful of the packets left, he decides its best to drink down a glass of water and hope it fills him.
All at once, the exhaustion of the day hits him with a renewed fervor and he decides to start getting ready for bed. He figures he can shower, do his skin care routine with some of the nicer products he has picked up in the city, and retire to his room for the night. Despite having lived in this apartment for the better part of five years, it still remains fairly sparse. Since most of his days are spent in the city, and his evenings are typically reserved for his exhaustion, his apartment doesn’t have much in decor. His only furnishings are a small table and chair set, for when he decides to actually sit down to eat his dinner, and his bed and side table that sit in his room down the small hallway from the kitchenette. He has a small space that he figures could pass for a living room, if not for the motorcycle that sits in the corner.
The bike is his prized possession. It is one of the few things he has that indicates the kind of person he was before his accident, since it was that Seonghwa who bought it. Apparently some UCity cop found it illegally parked somewhere in the city and was able to identify it as Seonghwa’s. He was still in the hospital at the time, confused as all hell to have such a lavish, and dangerous, automobile tied to him when he could remember so little as it was. The sleek bike was silver in color, looking like the types of borderline illegal motorcycles found in the Outskirts, but with all of the technological enhancers someone could only find in UCity. Baffled as he was, he was thankful the term “like riding a bike” was pretty accurate, and Seonghwa found that his body knew how to ride the bike like a pro even if his mind couldn’t quite piece it together.
He figures the bike is nice enough that he probably shouldn’t be storing it in his apartment, but he doesn’t trust the storage facilities in the Outskirts to keep it safe and the garage spots in the city are too expensive. It's not like he cares to own a couch, his bed is comfortable enough. He never has company over, and his apartment isn’t even equipped to handle the high tech televisions that are only available in UCity.
Seonghwa glances longingly at his bike while he sips the last of his water, lamenting his college days where he didn’t feel nearly so exhausted at the end of the day and was energized enough to go on high speed rides through the Outskirts.
Sighing, Seonghwa goes through the steps of his nightly routine. He ends up in bed, finally allowing his muscles to relax after the long day he has had. It’s around 7:45 by this point, and Seonghwa feels like it's still a little early to try to sleep, despite how exhausted he is. However, he does end up falling asleep about twenty minutes later, phone falling from his grasp still open to the news feed Seonghwa fell asleep reading.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
Fire. Smoke. No oxygen. Tears. Him.
Seonghwa awakes with a gasp once again, throwing himself into a sitting position. It feels like the flames are still around him, suffocating him with their heat. Sweat drips down every inch of his body, like it always does when he wakes from the nightmare. His head clears a bit, and he realizes it's the panic, and not flames, causing his breathing to be so erratic. Seonghwa presses his hand to his chest, just above his heart, and steadily circles it around his sternum. His breathing, thankfully, starts to follow the movement, and he is able to calm down a fraction. Happy that he didn’t lose his meager dinner, Seonghwa remains in bed for a couple of minutes, cataloguing all the things in his room to try to take his mind off of the dream.
Once he feels he has escaped to reality as much as possible, he decides to grab a drink of water. Even if he didn’t get sick, his stomach is queasy from the panic, and he hopes water will settle it and allow him to find sleep if there’s time. Standing on shaky legs, Seonghwa stumbles out of his room in the dark, too tired to care about switching a light on, and makes his way to his fridge. He gets a glass out of the cupboard, working on sheer memory in the dark, and then fills it up from the water filtration system he has attached to his sink head. He takes a large gulp, reveling in the relief it brings to his overheated system. The cool temperature of the drink grounds him, and he finally feels the last grasping hands of the nightmare let go of his mind and body.
He drinks the glass down in a few large gulps, setting the glass in the sink once it's emptied. He checks the glowing numbers on his microwave, realizing it's only 1am and he definitely has time to try to sleep again. He runs his hands through his hair and over his face in relief, but realizes how sweaty he is still. He figures a good splash of water over his face will help him feel a bit less sticky before he sleeps, and starts to head for the bathroom.
Click.
Seonghwa freezes. His apartment tends to be eerily silent at night, so hearing an unfamiliar sound that most certainly didn’t come from him stops him in his tracks. He turns around in the dark hallway, trying to pinpoint where it came from. He’s hoping that one of his appliances didn’t break or that his cheap air conditioning unit isn’t about to go on the fritz.
He listens as hard as he can, but when he doesn’t hear it again for another couple seconds, Seonghwa writes it off as something his sleep-addled brain conjured. He makes it as far as the entrance to his bedroom this time before he hears it again.
Click.
Thirty seconds.
Click.
This time the noise happens twice, in a fairly quick succession, helping him identify where it is coming from.Seemingly coming from the very front of his apartment, Seonghwa ventures up there in the dark, looking around in the dim light the light from the microwave and faint glow his bike in the corner provides. Nearing the front door, he still isn’t quite sure where the clicking is coming from, and more worrying, he is starting to hear a faint rattle as well. Fuck, he really hopes it isn’t his air conditioning unit.
Then he sees it.
It isn’t one of his appliances.
It’s his front door.
Three of the locks have been turned, and are now sitting in an unlocked position. Confusion swarms him, he knows he locked those last night. He’s now recognizing the clicks as coming from his locks opening, but with the severe lack of sleep Seonghwa is running on, his brain doesn’t catch up to what is happening until he watches the fourth lock start to turn in real time.
Fuck.
Fuck.
Seonghwa freezes, he feels like all of the air has left him for the second time tonight.
Click.
Seonghwa jumps into action. As quietly as he can, he runs to the small hall closet that sits across from his bedroom door, knowing it would be suicide to be caught dead by the front door or in his room. There is a metal bat that happens to be stored in this closet, along with a coat of his for the winter time and a few other pieces of junk. The bat had been left by the previous resident of his apartment, decorated with some long-gone baseball team's logo. Seonghwa thanks his past self for finding the bat cool looking enough to have kept, picking it up and clutching it in his hands like a lifeline.
Finally, Seonghwa hears the door creak open, a sharp shiver running down his spine. He is hoping beyond hope that whoever is breaking in is just looking to steal property, and not about to attack him for his chip. As much as he wishes that's not the case, he also is aware that this is too coincidental on a day that he took such a direct route home.
Seonghwa is cursing himself and terrified thinking about who it could be that saw him. He’s heard that many of the gangs in the area have been harvesting chips in droves. Nothing has been done to stop it from happening, since most UCity chips are safe behind The Divide and Horizon’s government doesn’t do much to police the outlaw run Outskirts, not giving enough of a shit about the citizens there to expend the resources.
He prays that the allure of his motorcycle, as much as it pains him, stops the criminal from venturing further into the apartment. Seonghwa squeezes his eyes shut, straining his ears to listen for footsteps. He feels like he can’t hear anything over the rushing of blood in his ears, the pounding of his heart loud enough he’s worried the trespasser might hear, but he is finally able to identify what sounds like the clicking of boots on his vinyl flooring.
The perpetrator is moving slowly and quietly, but with a seemingly practiced ease, through his apartment. Seonghwa opens his eyes again, on alert. He knows that if this was just thievery, whoever has broken in would be in a much bigger hurry, needing to get in and out as quickly as possible. No, these footsteps are methodical, almost predatory in nature. He can hear the footsteps prowling around his kitchen, near his bike, and then start heading down the hallway towards him, flicking lights on as they go. He is finally able to see, through the slats in the closet door, the dark form of a man slinking past the closet and quietly nudging open his bedroom door. The man doesn’t seem to be armed, but that also doesn’t mean he isn’t. Seonghwa holds his breath as the man enters his room, losing sight of him past the door. Feeling a spike of adrenaline, Seonghwa knows this is his chance to make his escape, with the trespasser no longer blocking his exit.
Seonghwa refuses to be prey.
The light flicks on in his room. Seonghwa grits his teeth, knowing this is his chance to escape. He swiftly calculates his next movements, readying himself to launch out of the closet when the moment is just right. As he is about to start opening the closet door, he hears the man in the room call out, “He’s not here!” In response to the voice, another man has walked into Seonghwa’s line of sight, placing himself right in front of the closet and the bedroom door, stripping any hope Seonghwa had of being able to escape without a fight.
“What do you mean he isn’t here?” The second man asks frantically, losing all sense of stealth. “Captain said this is where the guy lives, there’s no way he’s wrong.”
Captain? Nobody I know uses that name, how does he know where I live?
“Fuck!” Seonghwa hears a loud crash coming from his bedroom, presumably the man taking out his frustrations on what little items Seonghwa has in there. “Look, I don’t know, Youngie, the guy isn’t here. The apartment isn’t that big, we’ve checked everywhere. He should fucking be here.”
With the light flooding from his room into the hallway, Seonghwa can clearly see the man in front of him run shaking hands roughly through his hair, pulling at the ends in frustration. “What are we supposed to do? Yunho’s already lost so much blood…”
He realizes it's only a matter of time before they check the closet he’s in, and he feels something in his gut telling him he needs to be the first to make a move or he’s never getting out of here alive. While the other man is still in his bedroom, seemingly checking every square inch, and the second man is standing with his back to Seonghwa, he eases the closet door open. The man in front of him unfortunately hears him, the door squeaking on its hinges, but Seonghwa is already swinging the bat towards his head.
Seonghwa underestimates how quickly the man could move, however, and watches as the bat hits the door frame across from him, sending splinters of wood flying, instead of the guy’s face. He sees the figure in front of him stumble backwards down the hall, falling on his ass, head having ducked to avoid the swing. Seonghwa emerges from the closet, and pulls the bat back into position, ready to swing again. He hears footsteps rush towards him from his bedroom, and Seonghwa knows he’s about to be surrounded. Without really thinking, he grabs the bedroom door and slams it shut. Seonghwa quickly wedges the bat behind the handle and across the doorframe, hoping it holds the door shut. The loud slam on the door from inside the bedroom confirms it-- the man struggles to open the door.
One down, one to go.
“Wooyoung? Fuck, Wooyoung!” The man behind the door is shouting, clearly panicking at being separated from his partner.
The remaining man, Wooyoung, is getting up from the floor, hands held placatingly in front of his chest. “I’m alright, San!” He seems like he is trying to calm the situation down, the next words directed at Seonghwa, “Hey man, I’m assuming you’re Seonghwa, we were looking for you. I know this isn’t the best situation, but we really need your help.”
It seems like hundreds of questions run through Seonghwa’s head before he manages to speak, venom in his words as he asks, “Who the fuck do you think you are?” Seonghwa is baffled by the audacity of the man in front of him. “How do you know my name and why the hell are you in my apartment?”
Wooyoung winces. “Look, we really need your help. You’re a nurse right? Listen, my friend is really hurt, and we need someone to help him soon,” the man pleads.
“In what world would I trust you?” Seonghwa scoffs. “I’d sooner let one of the Divide guards shoot me dead than willingly go with someone who broke into my home.”
“Look, guy, I am being serious,” Wooyoung says, starting to get huffy. “There is someone who will die if you don’t come with us. Please.” Seonghwa sees the look of distress on the man's features. He knows that Wooyoung must be trying to appeal to him because he’s a nurse, but Seonghwa is unsure how this guy even knows what he does for work. “You can either come with us willingly, or we will have to take you by force. We don’t want to do that, but there are no other options for us right now.”
“Trying to use tricks like that is absolutely obscene,” Seonghwa scoffs. “I have no idea how you know my name, much less my occupation, but to use it against me like I am some idiot who will follow you blindly? Clearly you don’t know me well enough."
Seonghwa charges the figure in front of him, figuring that making things quick will be his best bet. He sees the glint of a knife flick into Wooyoung’s hand right before Seonghwa’s body is slamming into him, tackling him around the middle. Seonghwa takes both of them to the floor, hearing the guy’s knife clatter out of his hand from the collision.
Seonghwa straddles Wooyoung, quickly punching him in the face, and then hastily crawls off the man and starts to run towards the front door. He doesn’t make it far, feeling Wooyoung grab him around the ankle. It stops him in his tracks, but he thankfully doesn’t go sprawling again.
He hears the other man, San, start slamming his body against the other side of his bedroom door, likely hearing the struggle out in the hall and panicking further. Seonghwa needs to keep going before it's two against one, and starts kicking his leg, trying to shake Wooyoung's grip. The man holds on well, standing up and pulling Seonghwa’s leg with him, making Seonghwa balance on one foot to remain standing.
“Seonghwa, please, our Captain says he knows you. He said you would help us!” Wooyoung pleads with him as he steadfastly holds onto Seonghwa’s ankle, lip split and bleeding from the punch he took to the face. Ignoring what Seonghwa can only believe are more and more lies, he swiftly pivots his stance, ankle twisting out of the man’s grip. He runs for the door then, but Wooyoung is ready behind him, grabbing him and pulling him into a headlock from behind.
Seonghwa feels the cold edge of a knife against his neck. “Seonghwa, please. We don’t want to hurt you, please just come with us.”
“You’re holding a knife to my neck. Fuck off!” Seonghwa bites the hand holding the knife, clamping down until he tastes blood. The sharp, metallic tang hits his tongue and Seonghwa hears Wooyoung cry out in pain, loosening his grip. Seonghwa flips around again and kicks Wooyoung in the chest, aiming to put as much distance as possible between them as he runs for the door. The man stumbles back again, clutching his chest and gasping for breath. Seonghwa sees Wooyoung’s expression change; a new, dangerous glint in his eyes.
Seonghwa just lit a fire under this guy’s ass, and he needs to run. Now.
The door to his room bursts open then, and Seonghwa hightails it for the door before he can see the second man emerge from his bedroom. Unfortunately, he is only halfway across the kitchenette before he feels pain lace up his leg, stemming from his calf. He starts to pitch forward dangerously, catching himself on the hard wood of his kitchen table. He looks down and sees the small hilt of a throwing knife sticking out of the lower half of his leg. A cold calm comes over him, not unlike when he is in the operating room during a surgery, and he stares at the knife. With a detachedness he didn’t know he could muster, he grabs the hilt and pulls it cleanly out of his leg. He observes the sight of his blood, and rather than panicking, feels a bit exhilarated at the sight.
Wooyoung is on him again in a flash, having taken advantage of the time it took Seonghwa to remove the knife. Wooyoung flips him over, slamming Seonghwa’s back against the surface of the table, making pain shoot from his back all the way into the wound in his leg. Wooyoung has him pinned by the throat, choking him out with a forearm pressed to Seonghwa’s windpipe.
Seonghwa sees San emerge from his bedroom over Wooyoung’s shoulder. Spots are starting to dance in his vision as Wooyoung continues to press down on his jugular. Right before he blacks out, he feels a rush of air return to his lungs and the pressure leave his throat. Seonghwa looks up, and San has his arms around Wooyoung’s waist, pulling him back.
“Wooyoung, stop! We need him to help us, you can’t make him pass out like that!”
“No San, there’s not enough time for this and I’m fucking done with his bullshit.” Wooyoung is struggling to get out of San’s firm grasp. “I am grabbing that motherfucker and dragging his limp body down to the van if I need to.”
Despite still trying to regain his breath, Seonghwa is done with the games and runs towards the door again. He keeps the knife in his hand just in case there are others waiting for him outside. He hears the men curse and run after him, but he’s already to the door, yanking it open and stepping into the harsh, green tinted lights of the hallway beyond the threshold of his apartment. He starts racing through the halls, hoping to lose the two men pursuing him. He darts around a corner, finding the stairs quickly. He takes them three, four at a time as he attempts to outrun his pursuers on an injured leg.
Thankfully, it seems his familiarity with the building has bought him some time, and Seonghwa emerges onto the dark street in front of his building alone. He frantically looks around, hoping to see something that will help him.The only thing he sees is an unfamiliar van, and he assumes it belongs to the men behind him. Seonghwa turns to start running to The Divide, figuring the guards might be his best chance at safety, but is suddenly tackled from the opposite direction of the door.
He is under yet another man. How many of these fuckers are there? The man on top of him now is slight, lighter than the one he fought in his apartment, and he is surprisingly pliant enough to allow Seonghwa to flip them over on the sidewalk.
Seonghwa’s knife freezes on the man’s neck.
Below him, the man is breathing hard, fisting the front of Seonghwa’s shirt. The man’s face is all delicate features, even with his lips bared in a snarl. His beautiful, brown eyes angrily search Seonghwa’s face. A scar cuts through the man's eyebrow, ending just before his right eye.
This man, this face. Seonghwa can’t believe it. The adrenaline drains out of him all at once, leaving him a shaking mess.
Seonghwa can do nothing but stare down at the face that has haunted his dreams for the last five fucking years.
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆