This moment changed everything for Do-Yung.
He had finally found something he cherished, something just his, something he hated to see hurt. He wanted to see Na-Kyum's smile everyday for the rest of his life, wanted his bright, gentle eyes on him and only him forever. Nobody had the right to touch his Na-Kyum. Nobody. This possessiveness was new but Do-Yung welcomed it wholeheartedly. He embraced this need to protect, this need to grow stronger.
« You already have strong people hurting you, » Na-Kyum threw his arms around Do-Yung and sobbed in his neck.
« We just need to become stronger, » he whispered in the soft hair. His friend didn't see the dark look in his eyes. « Stronger than everyone else. Nobody could hurt you then. »
This day, Do-Yung went back and stopped by the training grounds. One of his brother, Seo Chung-Hee was there. he was always there. The man covered up in tattoos always bragged about the clandestine fights he took part of. He was one of the strongest here.
The next months, the skinny boy came to the grounds every day and opened wide eyes, taking everything in, forcing his brain to register every single move. He often got attention and was dragged in the middle for a brawl, or rather a sound, cruel beating. Even that he analyzed. Everything.
He woke up in the morning, slipped inside the shooting ranges, picked up a weapon that he'd spend the whole week dismantling and analyzing to the smallest details, he'd observe the men's stance, their eyes, their shots. His days usually ended on the outside training grounds or downstairs looking through the ropes at the dirty fighting going on in the ring.
Whatever happened, no matter the state he was in, he'd finally drag his battered body to the wall and gritted his teeth through the climb. Na-Kyum always showed up. Even if he could only stay a minute. Do-Yung had made him promise or he'd come to the orphanage. No matter how painful it had become, every time he caught sight of a bruise on Na-Kyum, his determination hardened.
« The… dog… is… red, » Do-Yung slowly read under his friend's kind eyes.
« Go on, » he urged by pushing slightly his shoulder with his own.
The notebook was old and ripped in many places, it barely held together. But the six-year old had salvaged it from the trash after an elder resident of the orphanage had thrown away. He had been quite shocked to discover Do-Yung's age as he had been convinced they were both the same age, but had been even more taken aback by discovering that at nine, he had yet to learn how to read.
Thus came Na-Kyum's tutelage.
Some days, Do-Yung wasn't in any state to study but his sweet friend had prepared a small box containing a bottle of clean water, a piece of soap and relatively clean rags. His small, soft hands would soothe Do-Yung's pain, both visible and invisible. It was almost worth it just to get treated so gently, to have Na-Kyum's hands on him, but the pained look on the younger face wasn't.
Reading was quickly acquired and Do-Yung stretched his full days even more to add school. The private classrooms on the compound took care of the children's education up until Middle school when the kids knew better than to speak about private matters outside. Then in the evening it offered extra tutoring to the most important children. Mafia executives had to raise smart kids, not everything could be handled by force. Bastards weren't invited of course, but Do-Yung hid in the ventilation, learned to ignore the roaches and rats crawling over him, learned to regulate his breathing and swallowed every bit of knowledge he could. From elementary school to university. He never lost sight of his goal. Becoming strong.
They had this peaceful dynamic for a while, over a year. He pretended to struggle with basics mathematics and letters, Na-Kyum patiently went over simple principle again and again. He would steal sweets from the kitchen and Na-Kyum bread and they'd share it in their secret garden. One of them would appear wounded, the extremely large majority of the time Do-Yung and with quite more grave wounds, and they'd treat each other. He still remembered the first time Na-Kyum had offered to stitch him up. He threw up twice before even stabbing through the skin and they agreed Do-Yung should handle it on his own, though Na-Kyum risked a lot to steal needles and thread from the orphanage's nurse. They also played, like kid. Hunted insects and ran around the field. Do-Yung stole a deck of card for their birthday and taught some of the games he had observed at the compound to Na-Kyum, while the latter smuggled used paper and broken pencils to draw together.
Every moment spent together was precious and Do-Yung cherished them all, though it never became easier to leave Na-Kyum. On the contrary, he doubled his efforts to speed the process. He wanted to take Na-Kyum with him and live together already, he'd protect him.
Once, he couldn't get up after a particularly harsh beating, he crawled toward the back of the garden but fainted somewhere around the middle. The last thing he remembered was thinking about Na-Kyum's worried face, he hated to see it. That was why he thought he was dreaming when opening his eyes and seeing the same face from his dream, crying over him, the sky dark over their head.
« Don't die, please, don't die, » the younger boy repeated again and again.
« Na…Kyum ? » He weakly whispered and tried to raise a hand to the pitiful face. He hated to see him cry.
« Don't move, » Na-Kyum sniffed before turning around and awkwardly pulling him on his back. Na-Kyum was seven and Do-Young two years older, but the latter was still smaller and thinner. « I'll take care of you. »
Do-Yung was shocked at first and tried to stop the weak boy who was struggling to walk while carrying him on his back but he didn't have the energy. Also, it felt good to hold onto him, to be so close. Do-Yung relaxed and burrowed his head in the clean, soft hair. Nobody ever took care of him like Na-Kyum did and yet every time he surpassed his expectations.
Na-Kyum brought him to the orphanage, discreetly turned the hose on in the garden and cleaned him up the best he could without drenching his clothes, though the top was lost.
« Can you walk now ? » Na-Kyum caressed his face gently, taking care not to graze the raw skin.
« Hn, » he acquiesced and proved it by slowly getting up. It hurt like hell but he could do it.
« Great, » Na-Kyum helped him up. « Second room on the right, I'm on the top bunkbed by the window. Stick to the wall and hide under the covers. »
« Where are you going ? »
« The supervisor is making his round, I barely got out earlier. You wait until you hear the noise before slipping in, okay ? »
« No, come with me, » Do-Yung frowned and tightened his hold on his friend's hand.
« I need to make a diversion to let you slip in, » Na-Kyum shook his head and softly pushed him toward the door. « Wait for the noise. Remember : second room on the right, top bed by the window. »
Do-Yung tried to stop him but that time Na-Kyum was a lot faster than him. He felt something ugly and heavy rise in his guts as he waited in apprehension but when the loud crash resonated he moved, not wanting to waste Na-Kyum's efforts. The isolation was bad so Do-Yung heard the disgusting noise. One. Two. Five. Fifteen. Fifteen blows. He repeated the number over and over in his head while hiding under the cover, still as a dead man and seething with hatred. The door finally slammed open.
« Try to steal food again, » the supervisor threw Na-Kyum on the floor before slamming the door closed.
Do-Yung was paralyzed, he feared he would be unable to hold back if he moved a finger. He imagined himself running after the monster, grabbing him by the hair and ripping his jaw open. He imagined taking a knife to his stomach and gutting him like a pig. His thoughts turned darker and darker until he felt the familiar small hand pull the cover up. Na-Kyum slid under and hid by his side.
Do-Yung frowned at the smile he found on his friend's face. How could he still smile ?
« Sleep now, » Na-Kyum slid an arm over his side, touched their forehead together and whispered softly. Do-Yung's heart was filled with love. Yes, that was the right word, infinite, unexplainable love. And also unmeasurable hatred for anyone who dared hurt his Na-Kyum. « I'll wake you up before he comes in the morning. Trust me. »
Do-Yung had never trusted anyone, never had to. But he'd pull his heart out and happily put it in that boy's hands. He'd follow him to the end of the world. He'd do anything for him. Anything.
The bed was small and they had to sleep stuck to each other, Do-Yung had never had a better rest than the one he had that night in Na-Kyum's warm embrace.