The air was thick.
Damp metal, smoke, sweat, rust left too long in a sealed room. Every breath dragged slow through Kangwoo's chest, burning faintly on the way in.
When he opened his eyes, light stabbed into his vision.
One yellow bulb hung from the ceiling by a crooked wire. It flickered once, then steadied, throwing long shadows that crawled across concrete walls and pooled in the corners.
He was seated against a wall.
Chains locked his wrists behind him, iron biting into bone. Ankles secured. The moment he tried to move, pain flared in his shoulder, sharp and immediate. The chain was tight and unyielding.
Around him were six chairs.
Four were occupied.
They formed a loose arc. Far enough to watch, all eyes on him.
Three blond men sat together to his left, sprawled in careless positions. One leaned back on two legs, another sat sideways, arm draped over the chair like he was killing time. The third rested his chin in his hands, staring openly.
They looked alike. Same hair color, same eyes.
Two of them smoked.
Thin trails of gray rose, slicing through the light before dissolving. The smell settled into the room, bitter and heavy.
The fourth man sat apart.
Straight-backed. Hands on his thighs. Feet planted flat. He didn't smoke, neither did he move. His gaze stayed fixed on Kangwoo, expressionless, his gaze unfocused, as if Kangwoo weren't fully there.
Beside him were two empty chairs.
Kangwoo understood everything without changing his expression.
No one had spoken. No one had moved since he woke up.
The silence wasn't awkward. It wasn't tense. It felt decided, like he'd arrived in the middle of something already concluded.
He tested his wrists again, slower, but it was pointless.
Cold metal pressed into skin rubbed raw. His fingers tingled, numb at the edges.
His breathing stayed even. Every instinct urged him to speak first, to set the tone.
But he didn't.
He knew they wouldn't answer. And resisting would only worsen the situation.
So he lowered his gaze, eyes half-lidded, staring at a crack near the floor as if they weren't there.
The last thing that crossed his mind before he closed his eyes was Darin.
One of the blond men exhaled smoke, amused. Another shifted, chair legs scraping softly. The straight-backed man remained still.
…
Creak…
Light spilled in from the hallway, cutting a pale line across the floor.
"Yo."
The voice was casual. Almost lazy.
Kangwoo lifted his head.
A tall man stepped inside, coat hanging loose around his frame. His hair fell over his eyes, shadowing most of his face. He didn't pause to take in the room. Didn't look at Kangwoo at all.
He reached for an empty chair.
The legs scraped softly as he dragged it closer, then turned it around and dropped into it beside the blond man in the middle. Without asking, he slung an arm around the man's shoulders, pulling him in like an old habit.
"Am I late, Dohyun?" he asked.
The blond man didn't look annoyed. He barely reacted at all.
"You always arrive at the last second, Taeyang," Dohyun said.
Taeyang chuckled under his breath.
"At least I'm always on time."
He leaned back in the chair, letting his weight settle. Then he exhaled slowly and glanced around the room, eyes drifting over chains, smoke, silence.
"Occupied again?" he asked.
Dohyun shrugged.
"She always comes back safely," he said. "That's all that matters."
Taeyang hummed softly, neither agreeing nor disagreeing.
Then his gaze shifted.
It landed on Kangwoo.
For the first time since entering, their eyes met.
Taeyang tilted his head slightly, studying him through the fall of his hair.
"Have you guys made up your mind yet?" he asked.
Dohyun smiled faintly.
"No," he said. "We're just about to begin."
From where Kangwoo sat, chained and pinned against concrete, they looked less like men and more like a final arrangement.
He understood then.
In this position, there was nothing for him to do but wait.