"Wait... my son? What about Hajun?"
The doctor's face softened. "There's nothing to be worried about. We conducted a thorough check up."
"Physically, he's unharmed. Well..." the doctor hesitated, his eyes darkening, "...there are faint marks on his neck. Likely when those thugs grabbed him."
"But beyond that... they couldn't do anything else. That boy..." he glanced toward the room, almost reluctant to say anything aloud. "...that boy went berserk, killing every single one of them."
Hawoon's hand trembled as he rubbed his face, sighing in relief. A ragged exhale escaped his lips.
"Fuck…" he muttered into his palms. "Thank god… thank god…"
The doctor excused himself quietly, leaving Hawoon alone. Hawoon remained still, collecting himself, before pushing his feet forward. His long coat swayed with his steps as he reached for the door handle.
He pushed it open carefully.
Inside, the room was quiet. The faint beeping of monitor device echoed like a heartbeat. On the bed sat Hajun, his small frame leaning to the boy, his innocent eyes fixated on the boy. There was no fear on his face, only strange excitement.
Hajun always wanted to have a brother. He did had one before losing him along with his mother. Hajun was close to his older brother.
After losing him, Hajun was devastated. He was his only friend. But, he never showed it how hurt he was.
So, seeing Hajun like that, staring at the boy with excitement... the same excitement on his face when he used to play with his brother, made Hawoon's heart throb.
When Hajoon noticed his father, his eyes lit up. "Dad."
Hawoon froze for a second before smiling, then crossed the room in quick strides. He sank down beside his son, pulling him into his arms.
His hands trembled as they embraced Hajun in tight hug, as though he was afraid Hajun would vanish if he let go. He kissed the top of his head, inhaling the familiar scent of child, grounding himself.
"Hajun..." His voice cracked. He cupped his son's face slowly rubbing the bruise and looked at him.
Hajun blinked, puzzled. "Dad... what's wrong?"
Hawoon shook his head, his throat tightening. "Nothing... it just... Dad is so happy to see Hajun safe."
"I'm sorry. I couldn't protect you like I should have. Yesterday was your birthday, and instead..."
"Dad... it was not your fault and see I'm alright. There's nothing wrong with me." Hajun clutched his father's hands, desperately reassuring him.
"But still... it was supposed to be your happiest day."
"And, it was..." Hajun smiled, eyes sparkling.
"..." Hawoon was confused, tilting his head.
"It was not exactly happiest..." Hajun stared directly at his father. "Honestly, it was horrifying. I was scared. I thought..."
"...I thought I was about to die. I didn't want to leave you alone." Hajun was serious, his eyes holding such emotions that Hawoon never wished to see. "I was so scared, Dad. You have no idea what was going on in my head. I was all alone with them."
"I couldn't even scream for help, knowing no one will hear my pleading and would just leave you. That thought was the one that really scared me."
Hawoon's heart throbbed at his son's words, hands trembling as he pulled Hajun closer. "Hajun... I failed you. I wasn't there when you needed me the most. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."
Hajun buried his face in his father's chest, his small hands clutching tightly. "But I'm not alone anymore, Dad. I thought I was going to die, but then... like my pleads were heard and he was there."
Hawoon was stiff and shocked. Slowly, he glanced at the boy lay unconscious on bed, his face pale, covered with bruises.
"I don't even know who he is and nor he does. But he still came and fought for me. He saved me even when he himself was scared."
"That time... I thought Hyung was there. And, when you said he was your adopted son, I was so happy, Dad. He is not Hyung. He can never be him. Well, he can be my other brother."
Hawoon looked back at Hajun, caught off guard by the joy and excitement gleaming in his son's gaze.
"...A brother, huh?" His lips curved faintly, though his heart felt heavy.
"Yeah." Hajun nodded eagerly. "Even if you're not with me, Dad... I think he'll protect me."
Hawoon stared at his son for a long time, his heart swelling. Despite everything, the trauma, the danger, the blood his child had witnessed, Hajun was smiling. Smiling because he believed he wasn't alone anymore.
"…Yeah," Hawoon whispered at last, brushing his hand through Hajun's hair. His voice was soft, weighted with both sorrow and love. "…somehow, you got a brother."
Hajun's grin widened.
Hawoon pulled him closer, pressing another kiss to his forehead. His son was finally happy. After all the chaos, after all the fear, Hajun had found something to hold on to.
"…Then I'll just have to make sure he never leaves your side."
___
The door clicked shut, and the smile on his face instantly dissolved, replace by grim line of exhaustion. His chest felt heavy, as Hawoon slipped his phone from his pocket, fingers moving swiftly as he dialled the number.
It was already late at night and all maids had left for their home except the head butler. The hallway was quiet except the sound of ringing.
Three rings. Then a smooth voice, casual but edged with mockery. "To what do I owe the honour for the Commander himself is calling me?"
"I should buy lottery tickets. Who knows my luck will finally work?"
Hawoon's voice was low and sharp. "There's something I need you to do."
A soft chuckle came through the receiver. "You know my price."
"Check your bank account."
There was a pause, the faint sound of humming and keystrokes on the other side. "...Heh. Generous as always. So, what do I need to do?"
"I'm sending you a picture." Hawoon's thumb brushed across the screen, pulling up the photo and sending it. "Find everything related to him."
For a moment, only silence answered. The voice returned, slower and wary. "...You want to dig up the information on this child?"
"Yeah!"
"...A literal child!"
"Hmm... is there something wrong?"
"I thought it would be usual requests, terrorists, traitors, rats in the underground. Not... some boy."
"This child," Hawoon said, his tone clipped and hard, "has the entire royal family and elite officers sniffing around after him."
The other end went still, the faint hum of static filling the void. "…What? What do you mean by that?"
"I don't know." Hawoon pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice dropping to a rough whisper. "I wouldn't be asking for your help if I did."
Another silence stretched out, heavy and uneasy, before the voice finally responded. "Fine. Three days. After that, you send me the remaining half of the price."
The line went dead.
Hawoon lowered the phone slowly, staring at his reflection in the dark glass window beside him. His expression was grim, the weight of his choice pressing down like lead. The boy sleeping inside the room wasn't just a survivor. He was a spark, and sparks could either light the way forward… or set the world ablaze.