Bestial

[...]

Jisoo watches at her breath diffuses into the darkness of the night as she thinks of the way she left her sister after their father’s death. A ball of guilt resided at the well of her throat. No, she wouldn’t leave someone in need again. “We’re going to my place.” Jisoo says with renewed determination, all but persistently pushing him into the backseat of her small car, though still mindful that she doesn’t knock his head against the roof. “I’m going to make sure those nightmares don’t come.”

As she starts her car, feeling more alive than she had since the last time she had seen him, Jisoo could not help but to laugh at the turn of events. “-And you’re in no place to argue: you’re going to wake up with a hell of a headache, sunbae.

Fortunately for you, I’ve got just the right amount of aspirin.”

He’s not an alcoholic. He drinks maybe once every month or so, and yes it’s become a sort of habit, but it’s not by any means turning into alcoholism. Sometimes it’s just helpful for alcohol to take the edge off of things. But then there are the times where he takes it just a little too far, times like this. He knows, there’s no answer at the bottom of his glass tumbler, that nothing he does at a bar can really contribute to fixing his problems. But it causes his monster to slip from his unconscious, away. And then the only thing he has left to worry about in that state are his nightmares.

But he’s not ready to return to a life of nightmares; he’s terrified of facing his nightmares, and knowing he can’t do anything about it. When he’s conscious, that’s when he’s in control, and with the more supernatural aspect of his life, control has become a major issue. That’s why attachments are bad, he muses. You get too attached to someone, you get too reliant on them always being there to help you. And then one day, they leave without notice. And then you’re left floundering, trying not to drown.

“Your place,” Jin Goo mumbles, “I’ve never been to your place,” he realizes idly. He frowns slightly though, at her next words. “How are you going to make sure the nightmares don’t come?” Hari had her powers; she could make his nightmares disappear with a wave of her hand. Jisoo, as far as he knew, didn’t have such abilities. But at this point, some company was better than no company, so he didn’t protest.

It’s a little funny, he thinks, he hasn’t had a headache that would’ve come from the usual causes, not since the experiment. He’s never had a headache unless it was because of his beast. He doesn’t say anything about it, though. It’s not exactly relevant, and Jin Goo figures he’ll see what happens the next morning. Maybe this will be the time that he wakes up with a killer headache.

[...]

Jisoo spots him almost immediately, that broad back only slightly slumped as a glistening glass with amber fluid is raised. She catches his wrist in her hand, shaking her head. “No more.” She says softly as she gently pried the glass from his hands. Jisoo peers into his slightly glassy eyes with poorly concealed worry, for she doesn’t think she had ever seen Jin Goo so drunk before. “Come on, let’s go outside.” Jisoo murmurs, her voice soothing whilst a hesitant arm snaked around his waist in case he lost his balance. “My car’s waiting.”

Once outside, Jisoo’s bravado is bolstered with each breath of icy cold air she took. “This is unlike you.” She laughs hesitantly. “How cruel of you to start drinking without me, Jin Goo.”

The strangely sober atmosphere caused her voice to fall flat. “Is something wrong….?”

“Was there…. A reason you wanted me to come and get you?” Jisoo finishes hesitantly.

He doesn’t know how long it’s been since he downed his first drink. All he knows it that the fuzziness in his mind is more than welcome. He doesn’t want to think; he doesn’t want to worry about nightmares, and he thinks an alcohol blackout might help with that, so another one goes down the hatch. 

The bartender refills his glass again, and he raises it when a hand closes around his wrist and the glass is taken from him. Jin Goo hears a familiar voice, and he turns to see Jisoo standing there. He had no idea what she’s doing there, oblivious to the fact that he had texted her and not Hari. 

He doesn’t put up any sort of resistance as she directs him out of the bar. If anything, the world is spinning so much that it takes most of his concentration to not trip over his own feet. He chuckles, watching with glassy eyes as his breath mists in the cold air. He realizes a little belatedly that he seems to have texted her instead. “Ah, looks like I texted you.” It didn’t matter, really. It didn’t matter all that much who came to get him. He didn’t particularly want to be alone. Alone, thoughts swirled around his head. With someone there, it was relatively easier to brush those thoughts away. He was a little relieved though, that it was Jisoo. 

“She’s gone,” he says matter-of-factly, like Jisoo was supposed to magically know about him and Hari. “She left because she’s afraid.” There’s a bitter tone in his voice now. Realistically, he doesn’t know this; he doesn’t know why she left, and her reason was vague at best. But his mind jumps to the most logical conclusion in his mind. She left because he was a monster. And that was before taking into consideration his mutation. She had seen the nightmares in his head, had seen him reliving scenarios where he had carried out some horrific missions. It would have made sense that she would’ve found his mutation to be too much piled on top of a bloody past. 

“She stopped the nightmares,” he says. She had made the nights more bearable. Her mutation had protected him against his subconscious. “I don’t want to sleep. I though alcohol would help,” he mumbles. His words probably don’t make sense to Jisoo, who would’ve needed to know what Hari did for him to understand. But in his intoxicated state, Jin Goo didn’t know. 

[...]

“I want to stay with you, Jin Goo. And if danger comes with that wish, then so be it. You’ve been treated unfairly by our superiors, and I won’t even work with them over my own dead body.”

“I guess we’re both traitors now.” Jisoo smiled faintly. Oddly, the stretch of the lips seemed more genuine than it had been for years. “I’ve already made some safety measures to divert the tracking team’s attention. They won’t find you again.”

Suddenly, a ringtone blared jarringly through the air, and Jisoo’s eyes were drawn involuntarily to Jin Goo’s pocket.

Jisoo was determined. That much hadn’t changed about her since last they met. Once she’d decided on something, she’d stick to it until it was finished. He was relieved to still have her loyalty, but reminded himself to be a lot more careful around her. Though his transformations were usually in a controlled environment in his cage, there was always a possibility that they would be put in a situation where his beast fought its way out. And he’d hold himself accountable if anything were to happen to her. 

He was about to thank her for protecting him like that, putting herself on the line, when his cell phone rang. He shot Jisoo a half-apologetic smile before slipping his hands from in between hers to grab the phone from his jacket pocket. Just a glance at number arranged in that familiar order had a small grin pulling at his lips. “I’ll just be a second,” he said to her before turning away and accepting the call. 

“Hey.” “Are you okay? You said you’d be back before now.” Jin Goo held the phone away from his ear to glance at the time. Ahh, right. “Sorry, I got caught up with a... former colleague of mine. Nothing to worry about.” There was a sigh at the other end that he interpreted as a sign of relief. She knew there were soldiers out trying to track him down, so he supposed it was a worry that was warranted. 

“Are we still up for tonight?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation into one that was less gloomy. “Yes, I’ve got everything here; all I’m missing is you.” Jin Goo chuckled at the slight sass she threw at him, “Alright, I’ll be there soon. Don’t start without me.” There was a tinkling melodic laugh before the line cut, and Jin Goo pulled the phone away to end the call. 

[...]

As she gazed into his eyes, she did not salute. They were no longer loyal soldiers, and they both knew this. Instead, she reached out, silently, carefully, to wrap her fingers around his limp hands. Jin Goo trusted her, and perhaps, that was enough. He trusted her enough to tell her his own story; and yet he still gave her a choice.

Oh, Jin Goo. How can I not follow you?

“What do you expect me to say, Jin Goo?” Jisoo whispered. “Did you expect me to give up on you? Did you expect me to run away from you?” With every word, Jisoo’s fingers tightened. “Who did you take me for, Jin Goo?”

“From the moment they pulled me aside – no, from the moment I knew you were alive, I knew that there was something they hid from me. I never doubted you, Jin Goo.”

“Thank you for trusting me.” Jisoo smiled. “But my decision had been made long ago. I’ll follow you until the ends of the earth; not because of orders or a sense of obligation, but because I want to, Jin Goo.”

She seemed to be concerned that he had had a close encounter with the special team that had been put together. He didn’t completely understand why. It was dangerous, he supposed, but he was standing there in front of her wasn’t he? To be fair, had he not gotten help from Sana, the situation would have been a lot more difficult to get out of. 

He nodded. Even if she did shoot him, he’d trust that she would have done it for a good reason. “I’m still here; they didn’t get me,” he said in an attempt to try and reassure her. 

The words hurt as he said them, but it hurt just a little more seeing the range of expressions flashing across Jisoo’s face. She took his hands in hers following his speech, and he wondered what exactly she was thinking. He wanted to know what she thought about it, but then again, he didn’t exactly want to know either. 

She leaned against the tree and waited patiently for him to come back. It took several minutes but he was faster than she expected him to be. She was still thankful and felt bad at how awkward he was handing her the bag. “I’ll uhm, I’ll be right back,” She said while going right behind the trees and bushes she originally came from and began to remove the jacket. She put on the skinny jeans, tank top, and put on her own leather jacket that was stowed away in her bag.

She closed her back and threw it over her shoulders before re-entering the clearing. “Okay I’m wearing clothes now, but here is your jacket back.”

He heard her leave the clearing, presumably to put on her clothes, and he shuffled his feet, unsure of whether to just stay there. It felt weird to do so. But at the same time, maybe it would’ve been the more responsible thing to do, to wait for her to finish changing into clothes. So he stood there, awkwardly, until he heard her voice again. 

The way it tore into the practice dummy was incredible. Like it was paper mache and not 6′ of Muk Yan Jong. She doesn’t know what she was expecting, thinking that having the door slam shut as a greeting wasn’t quite a bright idea. The growl that seems to echo in her ears makes her hair stand, noting that this time, she isn’t outdoors in a field with comrades to come to her safety. The space seemed a lot smaller with the large creature in it, looking every bit as menacing as she remembers. The way it’s shoulders are squared, defensive, claws out in front of it, she’s sure it’s ready to pounce anytime soon. 

Alright, Audrie, think. Worst case scenario? It tears into you like it did the dummy. 

Cons? It’s agile, has claws of the devil and could potentially shred her into pieces. Pros? Its limbs were bulky and large- with the space constraint, it played to her advantage. There was always a chance of escape. But again- that wasn’t the kind of response she was here for. Audrie stands still, blinking back at the creature that’s zeroed in on her. How long is an appropriate wait before engaging in conversation? Could it understand her? Is the person behind it conscious of its actions? …..Could she be in the room with it and survive? 

She takes a cautious step to the left, lowering her hands first, knees bending as she settles onto the floor in a lotus position, chin rested in her palm as she continues to stare. It needed to trust that she wasn’t a threat. And the best way she could think of was to disarm completely. She was sure that approaching it while it was still in a defensive stance wouldn’t end well for her. 

“Uh. I’ll just, stay over here, shall I? We can share the room, no big deal,” she speaks gently, resisting the urge to nibble on her lip. She wouldn’t show that she was anxious. Though she thinks the rambling is sometimes a giveaway. “I’m Audrie.”

The female seems contemplative, and she stays frozen in place for a good couple of seconds. The first movement has it tensing again, eyes locking onto the movement. She’s lowering herself to the floor, legs crossing in a way it finds absurd. The way she’s sitting can’t be comfortable, it finds itself thinking, like a bolt out of the blue. 

She wants to share the room? If it could raise an eyebrow in question, it would. What was going on? It stops its snarling. Why didn’t she go for the door? Humans were despicable creatures in general, but this one seemed to be just weird or plain stupid. It loosens up a fraction, unwilling yet to let down its guard completely. She wasn’t wearing any sort of human armour, any sort of protection, but considering it was in a place where everyone seemed to have a dangerous quality about them, it wasn’t about to let her get any sort of advantage over it. 

eh, okay. 

to be honest, bogum hadn’t really been that interested in covering the story anyway. although he starting to grow a little bit more curious at jin goo’s sudden request for confidentiality. he had no problems with obeying the rules set out to him in the privacy and publication laws, but the fact that he had to ask again simply made bogum raise his eyebrow. regardless, he would comply.

“not an issue,” bogum simply replied. “our online website had a survey last month; the public is genuinely curious about the school. so we have to make sure their curiosity is sated. i won’t be long.” maybe this will be enough to appeal to jin goo. technically he’s not lying, this is really what happened since the intern suggested the idea.

“we should go somewhere with more privacy, however. i want to ensure confidentiality is maintained.”

He was beginning to see why his superiors never liked having reporters around. They were rather pushy, nosy about things just to write a story. I mean, maybe he’s a nice person outside of his job... But at the moment, he wasn’t getting very nice vibes. It’s not that the other was being rude, but the specific wording chosen was rubbing him the wrong way. 

“feral?” she echoes, voice alight with that same tone she’d had the past few minutes; it suits her tilted head and blinking doe eyes, but it doesn’t suit their conversation. it is one serious─ not comparable to talk of demonstrated skill and admiration given in turn. but that is how it seems, with an instructor neared cornered and a student ever-pressing. “werewolf?”

he provides the image for her mind; beasts have different forms but she pictures it as a wolf, shifted to that special form under the light of a full moon. there lies an insinuation that it isn’t that entirely─ but sana misses it, blinded by imagination.

“ahhhh,” she nods in understanding─ or what she perceives as such; it’s not in the way she thinks it is. “they think you’re a monster,” she says thoughtfully, insensitively. it’s what’s come to mind─ an explanation and reasoning behind his troubles that make sense. her years do not betray her─ she is still young, but she feels that she knows well of the judging eyes and disconnecting lines between those with mutations and those without.

it’s typical of humans to be so cruel, even hunting down her own instructor. he’d never seemed anything but kind in her eyes─ should someone like that be subjected to vehemence and prejudice simply due to their capabilities?

she doesn’t believe so; but this is why humans are flawed. this is why she prefers her robotic companions instead at the end of the day.

it’s in this moment that she’s lost in thought, looking from jin goo to her hands. when her gaze lifts once more, there lies a sense of worry, albeit not for his sake only. 

“are you safe from them here, goo seonsaeng-nim?”

She seems to be confused, and Jin Goo mentally disparages the notion of having to explain in detail what his mutation was. But luckily she seems to understand some part of what he’s saying. Perhaps he could just leave it at that and be done with it. 

He half sighs and half chuckles at her blunt conclusion. That was the reality, though many people had a different way of putting it. Most didn’t even comment on that bit. But it wasn’t as though she was spewing lies, so he just shrugs, “Something like that,” he admits. They also thought him a traitor and a murderer, but ‘monster’ basically encompassed the rest of it. 

Was he safe there? Jin Goo wondered the same every so often. Would he be safe if he continued to live his life in the foundation? Would he only end up leading the military to the foundation’s doorstep? The simple answer was he couldn’t be sure. But he wasn’t about to say that to her. “I’ve been safe so far in here. The foundation does well enough to protect the people living within it.” He doesn’t comment on whether that fact would change in the future. Because no matter how much he wanted to give reassurances, he wasn’t going to lie to achieve that. 

She bit her lower lip and nodded her head. “I’m sure I’ll get better at it eventually,” She said softly while she saw him give her somewhat of a smile. It was a nice smile but it was probably still awkward considering her currently condition. This was actually beginning to be strange for her as well. She was happy the trees were blocking any wind from going under the jacket and lifting it up. The last thing she wanted was to be Marilyn Monroe at the moment.

She nodded her head slowly at what he said and answered, “Yes I’ll stay right here.” She leaned against one of the trees and made sure the jacket wrapped around her tightly. Though she had no idea how he was going to find her clothes but she had to trust that he knew what he was doing. She was thankful that she found someone so nice in the forest. It was definitely a strange place to meet someone new.

He stepped through the forest, between trees and over branches. It was rather relieving, to get away from that situation. It wasn’t very difficult at all to find her clothes. Not a lot of people ventured into the forest anyways, and with the knowledge of where she generally put her clothing, it only took a minute to spot the clothes peeking out just a bit from under a bush. 

That’s the thing about Jaehyun – he can’t stand not being in control. Being in control meant not getting carried away with people and their emotions; not letting them dictate how he should feel. Jin Goo was very good at getting carried away with sentimentality, and very good at drawing people into his sphere of emotions. It’s a bit annoying.

It’s something that Jaehyun can’t understand. Being sentimental. 

It’s nothing more than a burden to the present. It’s always best to look upon the past objectively for there is nothing to be gained from being sentimental; nothing to be learnt. 

“Excuse you. I will be an actual doctor in 5 years or so. And an actual doctor could never patch you up with the tenderness of yours truly.” He scoffs, a sarcastic grin twisting up the corners of his lips. 

“Oh that?” Following Jin Goo’s gaze towards the metal cabinet, he shrugs, “Was cleaning up and re-organising the bathroom…” His eyes fall to the ground where obvious scratches marred the wooden, panelled floor. It wasn’t a good idea to have dragged that heavy shelf out, but it wasn’t like he’d the strength to actually carry it out alone in the first place. 

“I’ve got a friend who’s good at that stuff coming over to fix that,” He gestures to the scratched up flooring, “later this week.”

It was easy, conversing with Jaehyun. The other seemed to almost always have a witty, sarcastic comment ready for him. It was just… comfortable. He smiles easily, “Of course, I’m sure you’ll be the best doctor the world has ever known.” It’s not too big a deal, for Jin Goo to just keep letting Jaehyun have his way.

[...]

As his inevitable onslaught of questions, however, Jisoo pulled back, looking into his eyes before swallowing hard. “I was informed that you are guilty of treason of the highest order, Jin Goo. There were also defection and espionage charges on your file too.” Jisoo found it absolutely incredulous – Jin Goo and treason didn’t even belong in the same dictionary. “They say you know government secrets; and you are handing them out like candy, Jin Goo.”

How do you even begin to tell someone that they’re being hunted like an animal? “Currently, there’s a team of specialized trackers and snipers after you, Jin Goo. And I…am one of them.” Jisoo replied clearly and succinctly, as if she was delivering a report. Her eyes, however, betrayed her true turmoil - they were wide and pleading as if to prevent him for running away as soon as he realized that she was here to cage him.

“What really happened over there, in that military base?” Here, Jisoo hesitated. Like all special operations officers, she had heard of the massive carnage there. “I know you, Jin Goo. I’ve lived with you as your student and comrade – and you’ve protected my back from certain death over the time we’ve worked together. I can’t – I refuse to believe those ridiculous treason charges. I know you, and I know you didn’t commit treason, Jin Goo.”

“And I-“ And here, Jisoo’s voice broke, and she cursed herself for the lack of self control. “I didn’t know you were alive until they told me, Jin Goo.” Jisoo whispered. “Just me. Not wiki nor the rest of the team – and I think they chose me because I’ve been on your team for the least amount of time.”

“I think they’re hiding something big, Jin Goo.” Jisoo murmured. “I’m here to help you, because I believe” with all of my heart and my last breath “that you’re innocent.”

What he hears from her isn’t surprising in the slightest. He’d clearly be labeled a traitor, at the very least. And of course they hadn’t told her about the experiments. The less she knew, the better; that was no doubt the military’s standpoint on of this. The confidentiality with which the organization kept that particular secret was extremely high. To his knowledge, very few had any sort of knowledge of it at all. 

She’s reporting to him, her words coming through steadily, but he can spy the disapproval in her voice, see a sort of desperation in her eyes. This, he understands, or he thinks he does. There was a comradery between soldiers that wasn’t easily broken. Orders were orders, of course, but a soldier’s loyalty lay with the people who fought with them, people who laid down their lives with them. 

He’s seen a bunch of the people who were tracking him; he had seen some of them that day at the university. Had it not been for Sana, he would’ve had a much tougher time escaping. “Ah, this specialized team. Yes, I’ve met them, had a fairly close shave one time, though I don’t recall seeing you among them.” He foregoes the bigger question in favour for a wry, comparatively light-hearted comment. There wouldn’t be much time for those later on, not with what he would come to tell her. A corner of his lips quirks upwards, “They chose you because you’re the best shot in the country.” 

He glances around, debating how he should begin to tell her. Sure they were on a quiet street, but that only increased the likelihood that they would be heard by anyone who was interested in overhearing their conversation. But then again, telling her about his beast was a deal-breaker, something that many would be disgusted by. And even loyalty only went so far. Maybe it was better to get it all out and see where that took them, whether she would still believe that he’s innocent, or whether she would pull out the handcuffs. 

[...]

“Actually, no,” he begins to correct, and his arms fold across his midriff, “the air in here is mostly sterile. What I’m worried about is your immune system dropping because of me, mixing with the air outside… if you leave now, your immune system wouldn’t be affected too much, but if you leave later, you’ll most probably get sick once you step outside and breathe in that air. So your options are really to leave now, or stay in this room forever.”

But as he presents the options, a small voice within him tells him that Jingoo will be the kind who will have no self-preservation whatsoever, and will probably choose the latter option out of spite or lack of care. It makes the altruist in him grit his teeth, but the boy in him smiles wider than ever.

“And I’d really like to get presents from Santa this Christmas.”

There. This is his entire case. If Jingoo doesn’t accept it, Kang Joon fears he is out of resources to fend off the adamant older.

That made sense, he supposed, it seemed that the recovery time was a little shorter than it used to be. Once he didn’t see Kang Joon one day way back when, usually it while for the other to appear again. It was never in the time span of days. But regardless, to have to do that consistently throughout his whole life, it was sad. 

He tilts his head to the side as the other proceeds to talk about how his mutation worked, not really feeling all that bothered by the news. It made sense, but it wasn’t really all too concerning for him. He was ready to take that risk, it didn’t matter all too much to him. 

“Then I’ll stay here forever,” he answers mildly. He’s stubborn and it gets on some people’s nerves; Jaehyun’s face flashes in his mind. Yes, he definitely does trod on some nerves sometimes when he’s being stubborn. Vaguely, he wonders whether Kang Joon would ever respond to his aggravation with frustrated violence rather than the exasperation he’s used to receiving from him. 

“I’ll find a way to get by,” he says, stretching a little, “Maybe I can order one of those anti-microbial suits online and walk around in that for the rest of my life. Maybe I can get you one, too.” He grins. Actually it wasn’t that bad an idea. Maybe he could do some searching online to find something. 

bogum blinked at the other for a moment. okay, clearly he’s caught this person off guard, but the sudden aversion to speak to someone higher up has bogum raise an eyebrow. yeah, he could have spoken to someone like the president or vice-president (maybe, probably not, bogum doesn’t really know). this is simply a military school, why not just speak to a few professors? this is slowly becoming more and more interesting to bogum.

“i was given your name by my boss at KBS. i was given several but chose you personally.” he replies. it’s the truth. for once bogum has no reason to lie to the other, he’s simply trying to put the other at ease. “i was told that interviewing an instructor is actually what we’re looking more for in our story. while interviewing someone higher up would give us a more administrative look at the school, we want someone who is with the students. to give a real in-depth look of their classes.” it’s true. he wants to write his story based on what the kids go through. it has more appeal to audiences.

he gives the other a smile, trying to get this skeptic to go through with this interview so he isn’t yelled at by his boss.

He’s still rather unwilling to talk, but now that he’s heard the explanation, it’s much more difficult to decline. But someone at KBS knows his name, and Jin Goo tucks that information into the back of his head. He supposes that it could happen. If the foundation’s executives had given his name out to people at KBS that might not have been 100% out of the question. But it was all a little too coincidental for his tastes.