The Unexpected Virtue of Ignorance • Monsta X

viii.

"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?