The Alleyway

@lee chihoon Mark was wandering around the town at night. His money was almost ending and he needed to get more somehow. Making favors to others to get some was an option but, due to Mark’s personality, it wasn’t even considered. The obvious answer to his needs was always using force to get what he wanted from the weak, favors were only done in special occasions and to strong, influential people. He attacked whoever was alone and wasn’t considered powerful, something easy to know since most skillful players would rise to fame quickly in the streets. His first victim was a fragile looking boy hiding inside a building, the kind that obviously didn’t match Toshima at all. It didn’t take long until the weakest one lost and, without any other choice, gave Mark all he had. However, he didn’t have any money on him or in his hideout, making the swordsman’s attack inutile. It was almost dawn and he had attacked every kind of passerby, but all he could get was some water and useless things, almost no money at all. Mark started to feel annoyed, he didn’t like exposing himself that much. He would only target someone when there was stuff he really needed or when he was put into danger, most of the time the lone player would rather stay hidden.
Because of the irritation growing inside of him, his next attack ought to be the most ferocious of that night, to make the person give up as soon as possible and avoid losing more time. The last thing he wanted was being left without money and having to ask his father to give him some, since that would be humiliating and a demonstration that Mark couldn’t really live by himself. While all those thoughts passed through his mind in a fast speed, he saw a brown-haired guy in the distance, who he targeted as his next victim. The swordsman approached the other hiding behind the building walls and rubbish, trying to make no sound. When the right moment appeared, he jumped in front of the boy as fast as he could, using the motion to push the younger one to the ground. Aiming the katana to the other’s neck, Mark said in a threatening way: “Either show me what you got or give me what you got.”

@∤ kim himchan It is definitely a first for Chihoon to run into someone who cares, or at least, that it what he seems to do, even though their complete strangers to each other. Thus far everybody had just been happy to have found an easy victim, someone to beat and win from without batting an eyelash. For him it had bene surviving, letting others get the win they needed while he himself wouldn’t have to pay with his life. So yes, it is rather surprising that this one seems to care, and Chihoon honestly doesn’t know how to feel about this. If he would just be let alone, he would be able to drag himself to the clinic to get himself patched up again, one way or another. But apparently that wasn’t going to happen. Yet, he couldn’t get himself to complain about it either. He’s still only glancing up at the other through his messy mop of hair, eye only half open due to the swelling. “W-why y-you ccare?” he manages to speak up in between his shallow breaths. Not to scare the stranger away, only to get himself to understand the situation.

Feeling the hand on his body his first reaction is to flinch, only to relax soon after with a soft groan. How long had it been since someone had touched him gentle as this? Too long, if you’d ask him. He was just about to part his lips and reply to the statement of bad news, when the stranger pushed on his ribs, causing a louder groan to spill from his lips. The pain caused his eyes to tear up, which he closed firmly, trying to catch his breath after the unexpected ‘assault’. When Chihoon opens his eyes again he’s gritting his teeth, gaze narrowed. “I-I’m not ma-de of g-glass. I’ll be ffine..” And even not, he would have to be anyway. Where his mind was screaming at him to get up, to man up and be a little tougher, his body simply refused. He would be at the strangers disposal and Chihoon couldn’t even really say he objected to that idea completely.

@lee chihoon There's a long, pregnant pause as the young merchant gives the smaller male time to reply. It's obvious the kid is having trouble even getting air in so he figures he better give him time to get everything he needs to get out, out. But eventually it becomes apparent that the boy has nothing more to say so Himchan just let's out a soft, airy laugh. "What? Did you think that I'd try and kill such a pathetic looking thing?" There's no malice in Himchan's words, he doesn't mean them in any particular way. To him it's just a statement. What would he get out of killing someone in such a state? He isn't some psychopath, killing gives him no pleasure. On the contrary he rather hates killing people and tends to avoid it as much as he can. "I'm not interested in killing you and I'm not going to leave you here to die."

There's another long pause as he looks the kid over a bit to see how best to lift the boy up. He's tiny so at least Himchan knows he'll be able to pick him and carry him with relative ease. It's just how in the world is he going to lift the kid without either hurting him worse or causing him extreme pain? "Ah...I've got some more bad news kid..." A hand is smoothed gently against the smaller male's side in an attempt to feel for any more injuries. Though the moment Himchan feels bone shift beneath his fingers he's pulling his hand back with a thoughtful hum. Broken ribs, that'll make this even more difficult. If he moves the boy wrong when he picks him up he can jostle one of those and cause the boy to puncture a lung. They definitely can't be having that. "I have no idea how I'm going to move you like this...."

@∤ kim himchan It doesn’t come as a surprise that his legs decide to give in, refusing to keep his thin frame up any longer. The little energy he had had before when he had left the nasty little hut that he called home, had all drained as he had tried to protect himself the best against the beating. He had barely moved a finger, but even so, laying on the ground trying to protect vital areas was pretty exhausting. Not to forget to mention, painful. But, pain wasn’t something new to Chihoon either. It had been a couple of months since he had gotten himself caught in this mess and he couldn’t say that life had been fruitful to him ever since. It is not really a surprise when a foot kicks his side, effectively calling him back to earth again. His reaction is somewhat slow though and the groan that follow the pain that shot through his body like a shock is a bit delayed.

Suddenly Chihoon is aware of the stranger that stood bend over him, blocking the little light that reached the alley. With another soft whimper the thin boy curls up into a ball, but not without effort and some few pained moans. Apparently he had also gotten himself a pair bruised ribs. He doesn’t look up to meet the stranger’s eye, nor does he speak. That was the best way to get others to leave him alone. He wasn’t a threat, nor would he ever be, and that had been Chihoon’s way of survival ever since he had first run into those who rather saw him gone. So you could say that it was rather surprising for him to hear that this stranger was taking him home, instead of letting him behind to die here. Slowly, but surely, Chihoon turns his head a little, peeking up at the stranger through his bangs, eyes wide in shock and surprise. “H-hhome?” he repeats, voice nothing more than a soft whisper.

@lee chihoon The night had been relatively uneventful for Himchan. It'd been business as usual all day; a meeting with a few of his suppliers in the morning, followed by cleaning up his shop in the market and serving a small amount of customers which was then followed by a trip to Siwon just for s and giggles. It'd been boring if Himchan we're honest with himself, save the visit to Siwon bothering that old coot never gets old to the young merchant, and he'd been hoping for something exciting to happen on his way home. An ambush from a rival gang or stumbling upon some drunkard looking for a good time. So it comes as a huge disappointment when the excitement he'd been hoping for turns out to be some kid looking like he's seen better days nearly lying in a heap in some alley way along the main road. In fact it's so disappointing the merchant very nearly ignores the poor thing and just keeps on walking. But something in his gut has him turning to help the kid despite Himchan's better judgement.

"Yah...you dead or what?" He calls out to the bloodied mess, slowly sauntering his way to the other's side and giving him a tentative kick. It'd be interesting if the smaller male we're dead. He hasn't come across a dead body in a while and it's always fun calling Siwon about them. They've gotta keep the streets clean somehow and the old man is the only direct link anyone has to the manager. A few minutes pass by where the kid says nothing, nor does he move, or even breath. But eventually he does let out a little groan and Himchan finds himself letting out a curse in disappointment. "Well ..." With that he's bending down next to the kid's side in an attempt to asses the damage. Sprained ankle, broken nose, black eye, few cuts and bruises here and there, along with a nast looking cut on one of the kids legs. "Good news you don't have to go see the crazy doctor...bad news...my home is a bit far from here~"

It was that time again. His face had already started to swell, blue marks forming around his eye, on his jaw and his nose looked like it stood somewhat crooked too. It was somewhat of a miracle that he still had all his teeth, especially if you considered the amount of times that he had gotten beaten up like this. With a limp in his step Chihoon stumbles through the alley, leaning on the wall a he does. His ankle stiff and swollen – probably sprained – and blood slowly oozed from a wound on his femur. That wasn’t the only place he was bleeding though, but compared to that one the others were only superficial cuts.

Even though it felt like he had already crossed quite a big distance – the hospital or at least the ceasefire zone was his destination – Chihoon knew that if he glances across his shoulder he could still see the spot where it happened. A soft groan, which sounded more like a pained moan, is pulled from is lips, tripping and stumbling forward, only barely able to keep himself up after failing to lift his feet high enough.