Foxtrot {SVT Gang AU}

Rough Day

In an instant, Chan was sitting down on a bench within the office complex lobby, which was now abandoned, the peeling of wallpaper showing the passage of time. The granite floors were marked up after years of misuse. Chan wondered what type of office this used to be, as it was rather fancy for a normal office. The two men at his sides were tending to his battered head, where a large goose egg was already forming. Blood matted the hair on the back of his head and somewhere along the way, he busted his lip which was now seeping blood. Chan felt worn out, emotionally and mentally. It was a rather traumatic experience and Chan knew he would remember every event of that day for the rest of his life. The bruises would remind him for several months of the hands that touched him and the ones who helped him. Speaking of which, neither of the men said a word to Chan.

The smaller man, who Chan deduced was 'The8', patted his lip softly with a wet cloth, trying to get the bleeding to stop and the swelling to go down. Chan watched the man with meticulous eyes, wondering how someone in a gang could be so gentle. The8 realized that Chan's watchful gaze was upon him and met his eyes with a shocked expression.

"Can I ask a question?"

"No," said Jun, who was behind Chan, icing his head and cleaning the blood out of his hair. The8 sighed and flashed his friend a warning glare.

"Yes, of course," he muttered, "you're one of us now, we are on equal grounds." Jun scoffed in the background.

"Who are you guys?" Chan asked. "Like, what are your stories? How did you end up in this gang?"

"We aren't allowed to answer personal questions like that," The8 mumbled, dipping the rag into a bowl of water and ringing it out. The water turned a light shade of pink. "We don't even know each other's real names. Well, we know yours now, but I don't know Jun's full name and no one knows the boss's."

"You're from China," Chan stated. He realized the man's accent while he spoke, and concluded his home country was China. The8 froze, wide-eyed.

"Stop it, now." The8 put the rag back over Chan's mouth to the point where he couldn't say another word. He thought it best he didn't fight back, so he remained still and silent. The men cleaned him up in silence, in such a gentle way. Maybe they weren't as bad as they seemed to be.

"Now, go home."

***

The night had been uneventful. Chan found his way home and went straight to bed, even without taking a shower. He always took showers before he went to bed.

His parents barely noticed he was late home, and his younger brother was out at his friend's house. The usual. Chan went to his room without anyone batting an eyelid. He took off his uniform and fell straight into bed. He knew he had a concussion, but he didn't care, he was exhausted. Before he fell asleep, he thought about what Hoshi had said to him. Chan really didn't have any friends. His parents never gave him much attention and his brother was always a brat. He agreed to his deal because he was desperate for attention in any form. He wanted people at school to notice him, even if the attention wasn't good. He wanted his parents to notice a change in his behavior so they would finally talk to him. How pathetic, Chan thought.

***

The next morning he woke up feeling even worse than the night before. Probably because he went to sleep with a likely concussion. He slept past his alarm and no one bothered to wake him up. Everyone had left for work or school, except him. He thought about skipping school altogether, but he remembered he had to present his project today. Thank God he got it done during study hall yesterday.

He went about his normal morning schedule, brushing his teeth, putting on his uniform, grabbing his school bag... Wait, where was his school bag? He cursed to himself, remembering that The8 had to have it since he got Chan's wallet out of it yesterday. He left it with that gang. With his gang. Regardless, he still went out the door, with or without his school bag. He felt naked without it but dismissed the feeling as he walked to school.