"And certain things around us will change, become easier or harder, one thing or the other, but nothing will ever really be any different. I believe that. We have made our decisions, our lives have been set in motion, and they will go on and on until they stop. But if that is true, then what? I mean, what if you believe that, but you keep it covered up, until one day something happens that should change something, but then you see nothing is going to change after all. What then? Meanwhile, the people around you continue to talk and act as if you were the same person as yesterday, or last night, or five minutes before, but you are really undergoing a crisis, your heart feels damaged..."

― Raymond Carver, Short Cuts: Selected Stories

--

The next few days passed altogether too quickly. Perhaps because Hyunwoo was near-delirious the entire time, sustained solely by coffee and brief naps stolen at his desk. He didn't sleep more than an hour straight for at least forty-eight hours, and he didn't think Jooheon had fared any better. But that was the job, sometimes slow, sometimes all-consuming.

This was all-consuming for him. More than just temporally. There was something about this case. And yeah, maybe it was simply because it was his first case, his first real case, that he got the odd feeling like he'd never really be able to move on from it. Like they could shut the file but never really close it. It was haunting, in a way. But in the end, he knew he'd done all he could, and they'd recovered all the kids safely, which was a small blessing in and of itself.

He tried to tune out Jooheon's ill words and forewarnings, but he only felt himself growing more anxious over time. The coffee and lack of sleep didn't help. He nearly punched the captain in the face after getting tapped on the shoulder; his nerves were damn near shot.

"We're turning the evidence over to the Feds for them to pick up the case, and you already got the kids back, so your work here is done. Get some rest, both of you," the captain said, eyeing Hyunwoo before looking over at Jooheon and raising an eyebrow as though expecting Jooheon to enforce his command.

"Yessir," Jooheon responded with a lagging salute and a wink.

The captain just rolled his eyes before moving onward.

"Sleep sounds nice," Hyunwoo mumbled, and his yawn turned into a groan when Jooheon stuck out a hand, a triumphant grin lining his lips.

"Pay up," Jooheon said with a smirk. According to the rules they'd put in place ever since returning to the station with the kids, every time one of them yawned, they had to put a dollar in the pot. What they were going to do with the money...they had no idea yet.

Still, Hyunwoo picked out an especially wrinkled one dollar bill from his wallet and pressed it into Jooheon's palm. "Keep the change," he muttered, ignoring Jooheon's laughter as he stashed the dollar with the rest.

"You know we're bringing the kids back tomorrow, right?" Jooheon asked as he pawed through his drawers, trying to locate something. His head was down as he searched through files and manila folders, so he missed the shock that flitted across Hyunwoo's face.

"Back?" he echoed dumbly, and Jooheon looked up with a questioning gaze.

"Yeah, back. To their families." Jooheon went back to searching for whatever it was.

"Right," Hyunwoo agreed immediately, ashamed that he hadn't been able to fill in the blanks for himself. Ashamed that he'd forgotten for even a second that of course the kids had families. What had he thought, that they'd just...keep the kids in the station indefinitely? Police-station-turned-orphanage?

"But Hoseok's got them for today. You and me, let's each head home and get some sleep," Jooheon said, shoving the drawer shut after coming up empty. He stood up abruptly and grabbed his keys off his desk before turning to look over at Hyunwoo, apprehension lining his brow. "Are you good to drive? I can give you a lift if you want."

"I'm good," Hyunwoo said, getting to his feet as well. He liked Jooheon a lot, but he feared that the more time he spent with him, the more he'd take on Jooheon's dismal perspective for the kids' futures. Hyunwoo wanted to hang onto his little bit of hope, even if it was stupid, even if it was naïve. He'd play the fool if it meant there was a chance that the kids would end up all right. "I'll see you tomorrow?" he said, sort of phrasing it as a question, and Jooheon nodded.

Tomorrow, they would return the kids.

--

Although most if not all of the kids were from the fourth quadrant, they were distributed across the area, so officers split into teams of two to go and reunite families. Jooheon and Hyunwoo paired up as usual and were granted temporary custody of Minhyuk and Hyungwon.

The drive to the Walour Motel was quiet. Even Minhyuk, who tended to ramble on in his own bubbly way about the most inane of things, kept quiet and watched the town pass by outside his window. Hyungwon hadn't said more than two words since Hyunwoo had greeted him this morning. It made Hyunwoo want to wrap both kids in bubble wrap and never let them go, but he knew it wasn't really his choice to make.

Too soon, the car rolled to a stop, and Jooheon switched the gear into park before looking back at the kiddos. "Are you guys ready?"

Minhyuk nodded eagerly, an anxious smile worming its way onto his lips, while Hyungwon just gave a half shrug. Minhyuk seemed to read Hyungwon's apprehension, and he lightly elbowed him. "I bet Kihyun will cry," he prophesized, and sure enough, a small smile spread on Hyungwon's face, but it was gone altogether too quickly.

Hyunwoo looked on with a smile as Minhyuk clambered out of the backseat, eager all of a sudden to witness their friend's tears, and Hyungwon was tugged after him by a firm hand around his wrist.

Hyunwoo got out of the car and came around to the side adjacent to the motel as Minhyuk regained some of his chatterbox energy and began gesturing to the parking lot, rambling on about some game they used to play and would surely play again soon. Hyunwoo was hit with the sudden urge to ruffle their hair, but he stopped himself. He wasn't their dad. In fact, he wasn't their anything. He was just a police officer. This should be a happy occasion for him, to be able to return the kids to their families.

So why wasn't he happy?

"C'mon you two," Jooheon said, taking one of Minhyuk's hands to lead them onward. His eyes darted up to Hyunwoo's as though to check if he were okay, and Hyunwoo just gave a small nod, exhaling before following after the trio.

When they got to the lobby, Minhyuk broke free from Jooheon and ran to his mom. Jooheon had called ahead earlier that morning to let the families know, and it looked like they'd been waiting for a while.

"Baby," Minhyuk's mom cried out, scooping up Minhyuk and holding him close even though he was too big to pick up anymore.

"Sorry," Minhyuk said, breaking down immediately, and his eyes shone wetly in the dim lighting. "I'm sorry, Mom, it's my fault and I-"

"Shush," she whispered, pressing her hands more firmly against his back. "I was so worried, but...you're home now. It's all going to be okay."

Minhyuk's father, who Hyunwoo remembered meeting last time, stood slightly behind his wife, arms crossed and posture held in a stiff fashion. Even though his jaw was clenched, Hyunwoo could see the softness in his eyes that told him that even if he didn't express it, he had been worried too.

The reunion on the other side of the room was a different story.

Hyungwon stood in front of his mother, head bowed forward a bit.

"Hyungwon," she said, squeezing his shoulders with fingers that looked to be painfully bony. He winced. "Hyungwon, I missed you, you know that?"

Hyungwon mumbled something indiscernible to Hyunwoo, and her grip on him seemed to strengthen.

"These last few days have been hard, so hard," she said, and Hyunwoo felt something clench in his stomach.

"Days?" Hyunwoo muttered under his breath, staring at Hyungwon's mom. "It's been weeks, he's been missing for weeks and-"

"I know," Jooheon said quietly, setting a hand on Hyunwoo's shoulder to prevent him from correcting the woman.

"You know," Hyunwoo agreed, looking over at Jooheon and trying to suppress the ire rising within him. He hated feeling this angry all the time, but the anger never seemed to leave him anymore. "You know, so how can we just leave him here? She's been high this whole time, she didn't even know her kid was missing and we're just supposed to drop him off and go back to work?"

"It's not fair," Jooheon agreed, squeezing Hyunwoo's shoulder both in validation and in warning. "But it's not our place to do something about that."

"It should be. It could be."

"You want to rip a child away from his mother?" Jooheon asked, an eyebrow raised, and Hyunwoo hesitated before sighing and looking away, unable to meet his eyes.

"I don't know," he muttered, shooting a glance at her from across the room. She was hugging Hyunwon now, but that was it – she was hugging him, and he didn't appear to be hugging back. Hyunwoo couldn't see his face, but even so, he read the pain in his figure. "I just- I'm worried that if we leave them here, they'll get hurt again."

"I know," Jooheon said, his voice quiet and worn from years on the job. Hyunwoo wondered how many of these situations Jooheon had overseen, how many times he'd seen something upsetting that he hadn't had the power to change. "But they have as much of a chance to be hurt here as they do anywhere. The foster care system out here...it's not great, Hyunwoo. In fact, it's pretty bad. At least here, they have somewhat of a community, friends."

"But not safety."

Jooheon was quiet for a long time before he brought his gaze back to the boys, watching them with those sharp eyes of his, eyes that missed nothing but revealed very little. "Safety isn't something they ever had."

--

The boys were back out in the parking lot when Hyunwoo went on his patrol the next day. He could tell from all the way down the street because he could hear the sound of an aluminum can being kicked about across the blacktop.

He stopped by the fence to see Minhyuk punting the can and Kinhyun ducking to avoid being hit in the face. Hyungwon was sitting on the curb that ran along the circumference of the lot, just watching them.

Hyunwoo rattled the fence lightly to draw their attention, and Minhyuk looked up with a grin while Kihyun looked over his shoulder to check out their new visitor.

"Hey," Kihyun said, tilting his head up in a nod and turning to face Hyunwoo. He trotted over a few steps, hanging back about three meters from the fence as he stuck his hands in his pockets. His lips twisted like he was trying to find the words to say, but Hyunwoo understood it well enough and just smiled.

"How are they doing?" he asked instead, keeping his voice low enough so the others wouldn't hear him.

Kihyun looked back over his shoulder, looking first at Minhyuk who was grinning at them and bouncing lightly on his toes, then at Hyungwon, who was staring down at the cracks in the blacktop. "They're..." He turned back to look at Hyunwoo. "They're here, which is more than I could've said yesterday." He looked down before scuffing at the blacktop with the sole of his shoe. "Thanks to you."

Hyunwoo just nodded, not wanting to strangle gratitude out of the boy. "They might look fine, but their minds are still recovering," he said, keeping his voice quiet not just from the others but so Kihyun would understand how touchy the subject was. "They need time," he said before looking between Hyungwon and Minhyuk. "Time and people who care about them."

"I know," Kihyun muttered, kicking at the ground again. "I'm not going to screw up again."

"It wasn't your fault," Hyunwoo insisted, but Kihyun scowled, kicking at a rock this time and sending it careening into a nearby portion of the fence.

"Maybe it wasn't directly my fault, but it was indirectly something I could have prevented," he corrected before looking up at Hyunwoo with a frown on his face. "They won't tell me what happened," he said, his eyes searching Hyunwoo's with a dark wildness about them. "I mean, I can guess the outlines of it, but...Minhyuk just waves it off, and Hyungwon...he won't...he's just gotten quiet. Well, quieter than normal. And I just feel like..." He grit his teeth against each other. "I want to protect them, somehow, but I don't know how to do that when I don't even know what I'm protecting them from."

Hyunwoo was quiet because he understood Kihyun's anger, his weaponized form of helplessness, but he kept quiet because he was selfish. Selfish because he'd seen and heard things that he didn't want a young fourteen- or fifteen-year-old boy to have to learn. He hadn't been able to protect Minhyuk or Hyungwon's innocence, but was it so horribly selfish of him to want to protect Kihyun's?

He crouched down on the other side of the fence from Kihyun so they were about eye level with each other. "Their biggest enemies aren't the people who have already hurt them," he said quietly before tapping against his head with his right index finger. "It's their fear of the people who might come to hurt them in the future, and it's that fear that makes themselves their own worst enemies. So Kihyun..." Was it too much to put on Kihyun's shoulders? He was just a kid after all, not so much different than them. "I'm sorry to ask this of you," he said after a moment, his heart heavy, but Kihyun was the only one he could ask, "but could you please watch over them? Even when their minds get confused, even when they try to make decisions that will hurt themselves, can you watch over them?"

Kihyun nodded, hands clenching into fists within his pockets. "Yeah, I can do that."

"I'm sorry to have to ask you," Hyunwoo said, exhaling as disappointment weighed down upon his shoulders. He would have liked to trust the other officers, but these kids were too important for him to trust with others. Especially others who had failed in the past.

"It's fine, it's my job to protect them cause I'm older," Kihyun said, standing up a little straighter, and Hyunwoo just took in his posturing with weary eyes.

"Kihyun, I need you to know...if something happens to one of them, if you can't protect them...that's not your fault," Hyunwoo said, already feeling bad enough for laying this extra burden on Kihyun's shoulders. He knew that even if Kihyun did his best, even if Kihyun and Hyunwoo and Jooheon all did their best, it might simply not be enough. But one boy shouldn't face all that responsibility, not when two grown men couldn't do it either.

"Then at what point does it become my fault?" Kihyun asked back, frown solidifying. "I'm not blameless for whatever happens."

"But you're just a kid," Hyunwoo stressed, trying to make Kihyun understand, but Kihyun just took half a step back.

"Being a kid doesn't stop you from being hurt or from hurting others," Kihyun argued back before looking over his shoulder at Minhyuk, who was clearly waiting for him to resume their game.

"Just because they were hurt doesn't mean you have to be," Hyunwoo said softly, watching as Kihyun tensed because he'd verbally identified that helplessness Kihyun was feeling as guilt, as a sense of needing to make things even. But pain wasn't something that could be balanced on a mere scale. Pain was balanced over lifetimes, or not at all.

"Thanks for stopping by," Kihyun said shortly, turning back to the boys but looking over at Hyunwoo as he took a step away from the fence. His eyes were pensive, and Hyunwoo hoped he was considering what Hyunwoo had told him. "See you, Officer," he said, giving Hyunwoo a small smirk and a mock salute before jogging over to Minhyuk and giving the can a big kick. It ricocheted off the curb next to Hyungwon, but he didn't even flinch.

Hyunwoo smiled at the boys before looking up to notice Kihyun's mom out on the balcony, staring down at him, a cigarette dangling between her fingers. He hesitated before holding his hand up in a small wave, waiting for her to yell at him for talking to Kihyun (or to yell at Kihyun for talking to him), but she just exhaled from her cigarette in a small puff of smoke before turning and going back inside.

Hyunwoo swallowed, trying to tamp down the small flicker of hope inside himself.

Progress.

It was small, but...

Progress.

--

That, like everything else, was ripped away from him in time.

It was about a year or two after the incident with Hyungwon and Minhyuk.

Kihyun had held true to his promise with Hyunwoo, however heavy and unfair the promise had been. He had watched over them, keeping Minhyuk's mind busy and always keeping Hyungwon within arm's length. He allowed Minhyuk to ramble at length about all sorts of stupid things, laughing in an obligatory nature at his jokes, and all the while, he'd keep an arm around Hyungwon's shoulders or a hand brushing against his elbow. Kihyun seemed to understand the situation without Hoseok's wordy explanations: Minhyuk needed to be distracted, and Hyungwon needed to be kept present.

And that worked, until it didn't.

--

Hyunwoo sat in the back of the courthouse and watched as they led some creep away in handcuffs. He watched, his blood cold, as the figure slipped out the doors on his way to a shortened sentence.

"Two years," Hyunwoo muttered, flinching as the doors clanged shut. "He should've gotten fifteen, but he's getting off with two."

"He's going to testify in a homicide case," Jooheon said, supposedly in defense of the results, but even he sounded tired.

"He shot Kihyun," Hyunwoo argued even though he knew that Jooheon wasn't a fan of the outcome either. To be fair, no outcome – not even the maximum sentence – could have rectified the situation, could have brought Kihyun back, but there would have been some small consolation in the knowledge that his death hadn't been brushed under the rug, that justice had been served.

"It was manslaughter," Jooheon sighed. It wasn't that he disagreed with Hyunwoo; rather, he often ended up playing devil's advocate to remind Hyunwoo why the system functioned like it did. In the end, though, Hyunwoo knew his partner to be just as frustrated as himself. "Kihyun got stuck in the wrong place and the wrong time, and he caught a bullet that wasn't intended for him. No intent, no murder." Another sigh, longer this time. "The other case is a homicide, so it's a priority. That's the case they're going to want to clear. This case isn't a tragedy to them, it's an opportunity."

"Fucking parasites," Hyunwoo muttered under his breath, glaring at several officers who were shaking hands with the defensive counsel in the front of the room. He knew, somewhere deep within his mind, that they didn't want this criminal to get off scot free, that they saw him as a meal ticket to taking some bigger criminal down, but this was personal to him. He didn't care about the bigger fish; he wanted to devour the smaller one.

The worst part about it was that it had absolutely nothing to do with Kihyun. It was simply the worst outcome of a wrong-place-wrong-time situation. Two rival gangs from the fourth quadrant plus a few errant bullets equaled one dead civilian. Simple, tragic math.

Everything just went to shit from there.

--

Hyunwoo stopped at the fence on his usual route, but the boys weren't outside. He hadn't seen them outside since Kihyun had been killed, but this was the first time he'd walked by since the trial. Even if it was easier to avoid them, he'd wanted to bring the news in person.

"Go away!" someone yelled from one of the balconies, and Hyunwoo looked up to find Kihyun's mom glaring down at him, flapping one of her arms like she could blow him away in the breeze. "Leave, you pig!"

Hyunwoo flinched; it wasn't the first time he'd heard the moniker directed at him, but it was his first time hearing it from someone vaguely familiar. A few new threats joined the first, coming from another balcony as another resident caught sight of his uniform, and Hyunwoo ducked his head and hurried on down the street.

Kihyun's killer had been brought before court only to escape true justice. In those officers' minds, they were letting the little fish off the hook so they could snag the big fish, but in the minds of the Walour Motel residents, a killer was being allowed to get off with a light sentencing after murdering an innocent teenage boy.

--

The small nods and waves Hyunwoo had been building up for years with the residents of the motel were gone. Instead, he received glares, shouts, horrible names. But he couldn't be mad at them because he understood their anger all too well.

So he did his best to just walk quickly, always checking the lot for Hyungwon and Minhyuk, but he didn't see them out anymore.

At first, he thought that maybe they were just staying inside, but after talking with the other officers who patrolled that quadrant, the boys still played outside on occasion, just not when Hyunwoo was on shift.

At first, he took that to mean that they were avoiding him, that they were angry at him, but given the hostility of the other motel residents, he thought that maybe it was a bit different. Maybe they didn't want to get caught talking to him, or maybe they didn't want him to get harassed for trying to talk to them.

Still, Hyunwoo couldn't bear to walk past the motel anymore, so he talked to the chief and got his rotation switched so the Walour Motel was no longer on his quadrant four route. It was simply too painful for him to walk past and ignore the glaring absences.

On his last day, however, he wrote down a series of digits on a scrap of paper and taped the scrap to an empty pop can. He crouched down next to the fence of the Walour Motel and raised the bottom of the fence several inches, just high enough to slip the can under. Then he let the fence fall back down before he resumed his route, eyes drinking in the sight of the old motel one last time.

He hoped that at some point later that day or the next, Minhyuk would get curious and pick up the can to find Hyunwoo's phone number and a short message:

Call me if you ever need anything.

--

published 02/15/21 (mm/dd/yy)

3816 words