Chapter Text
The night fell unceremoniously. Unaware of what would happen in only a few hours. No dramatic watercolour sky, no omen-heavy weather. Traffic thinned, lights blinked one by one like it was just any other day. Seunghyun noticed that, distantly, that the world didn’t care at all.
But Jiyong slept, and that mattered more than anything. He stood in the doorway for a long moment before leaving, watching the steadyrise and fall of his chest. No tension in his hands, no tightness in his face. Rarely, sleep took him gently, without a fight. The sight anchored Seunghyun’s decision in his chest, grounded it heavy. He needed to make sure Jiyong could sleep like this more than once in a blue moon.
He glanced once more at the note:
Shops. Back soon
Written and left on the nightstand so that Jiyong wouldn’t panic if he woke up alone. With a silent turn, Seunghyun closed the door and put his shoes and mask on, carefully leaving through the front door.
Jiyong’s phone felt heavier than it should have in his pocket. It represented borrowed skin, borrowed fear, borrowed words that still tasted wrong in his mouth. He didn’t need to check the messages again, though he knew the younger would have been obsessing over it. He already knew what they said. He already knew where this was going. He barely registered the walk to the bridge with those thoughts so loud in his head, coat clutched shut, gloves protecting skin.
At the time that the meet-up was arranged, Seunghyun felt with conviction that the rat needed to be handed in to the police. He was so overcome with rage, even though it wasn’t his place. It was Jiyong’s trauma, Jiyong’s life. And he was scared shitless. That would have explained the guilt in his eyes anytime Jiyong turned away. He had the plan ready, to get Seungri cornered and to surrender to the police he would call before the arrangement.
Otherwise, Seungri would go on to hurt Jiyong and haunt him for the rest of his life. He would traumatise and irreversibly hurt more women and men than Seunghyun wanted to think about. Another Burning Sun, a trafficking ring, money money money… It needed to end.
The river was louder than he expected.
It wasn’t quite violent, but a constant, low and unbroken rushing that filled the space beneath the bridge, echoing off concrete and steel. The base of it was darker than the street above, shadowed by the curve of the structure, tucked away from sight. A place to feel unseen even while the city moved overhead.
Public enough to feel safe. Isolated enough to be controlled.
It was perfect.
Seunghyun stopped a short distance away, leaning casually against the concrete barrier, posture loose and unhurried. Anyone watching would’ve thought he was waiting for a friend, or killing time.
Inside, his mind was finally quiet. Not quite empty, but not numb either. Just, settled. He waited for the phone to buzz.
Seungri: Where are you.
There it was, impatience. Mild frustration. Seunghyun exhaled slowly through his nose before pulling the phone out. He typed with steady thumbs and kept the tone small and afraid.
im here
i cant come down
i dont feel safe going under the bridge
The lie was thin, but it didn’t need strength. It just needed to sound like fear.
He stared at the screen after sending it, listening to the river. Hyperaware of his heartbeat. Of the way his shoulders felt relaxed, like his deciion had already been made deeper than at thought-level.
The reply came quickly.
Seungri: Don’t be stupid. Come down. I’m not doing this from a distance.
Seunghyun tilted his head slightly, as if considering the words aloud.
i cant
please
just come up a bit
i dont want to be trapped down there
There was a longer pause that time, and Seunghyun imagined him standing at the base of the bridge, irritation sharpening into a cold calculation- the assessment of risk versus control. Of how much concession could be made without losing dominance.
The typing bubble appeared. Vanished, then appeared again.
Seungri: You’re really testing my patience.
Fine. Stay where you are.
The elder’s gaze lifted, following the slope of concrete leading up towards the bridge. He could already picture the moment Seungri would emerge into view, annoyed but confident, assuming compliance would naturally follow once proximity was restored. He locked the phone and slipped it back into his pocket, returning to clutching his coat over his chest.
He straightened, pushing off the barrier, rolling his shoulders once. His face behind the mask remained netural. And he listened.
Footsteps echoed faintly from below, measured. Someone who hadn't considered that this might not go the way he expected. Seunghyun watched the mouth of the ramp, the edge where darkness was still king.
Waited.
The river kept moving.
And if Seunghyun thought he was certain of what he was about to do before leaving, there was no doubt about it now.
He took a few steps down to the small ‘landing’ near the top of the bridge, listened for the steps, and watched the darkness shift until a figure finally emerged from the lower end of the stairs. The top of Seungri’s head appeared first, then his shoulders, then the rest of him as he climbed higher.
He looked exactly the same. No monstrous transformation, no visible stain of the sins he’d committed. Just the same silhouette Seunghyun had known for years, dressed casually, hands in his pockets, expression already tightening with impatience as his eye scanned the narrow upper landing.
Looking for Jiyong.
Seunghyun stood still where he was, positioned a couple steps above the landing, fully in the shadows. From there he could see everything: the narrow run of concrete, the railings beyond, the dark stretch of water moving fast below. And Seungri, walking straight towards him without hesitation.
The younger man slowed slightly as he reached the final section of stairs, frowning. “Jiyong?” He called, irriation more than clear in his voice. “Where the hell are you?”
His gaze flicked to the tall figure on the steps, seemingly minding his own business, who let him take two more steps. The younger’s brows knitted together as he stared for a second at the masked man, confusion sharpening into annoyance quickly. “Move.” He said automatically, assuming obstruction rather than threat.
Seunghyun didn’t move.
Slowly and deliberately, he reached up and hooked two fingers under the top of his mask. The fabric slid down.
He watched Seungri’s blank look flash into wide-eyed recognition as all the irritation drained from his face at once and he backed up instinctively.
“Hyung?” He said flatly, throat suddenly dry.
For a moment neither of them moved, and the river rushed loudly below them. Seungri’s eyes flicked past Seunghyun’s shoulder instinctively, searching the walkway behind him. “I fucking should’ve known. Where’s Ji-”
The rest of the sentence died in his throat, because Seunghyun had finally moved.
A calm, controlled motion as his hand slipped inside the front of his coat.
Seungri’s eyes tracked the movement automatically, confusion creasing his brow again. He parted his lips, but any words that threatened to leave his mouth stopped as Seunghyun drew the gun free and lifted it in one smooth motion, arm steady as he brought the barrel level with Seungri’s chest.
The night paused around them. Everything did. Suddenly, the whole world was reduced to the two of them on the concealed platform leading up to the bridge.
Seungri froze, mouth slightly open, the colour draining from his face as his brain struggled to process the shape now pointed directly at him.
A thin and incredulous laugh escaped him, disbelieving.
“…What the fuck?”
The laugh died quickly, collapsed under the weight of Seunghyun’s silence.
Seungri’s eyes flickered from the gun to Seunghyun’s face again, searching for any signs he could exploit, some crack in his expression, some hint of anger he could work with.
There was nothing. It was terrifying.
“Hyung.” Seungri said slowly. He let out another small breath of disbelief, shaking his head as if the whole situation was absurd. “Okay. very funny.”
The elder didn’t move- the barrel of the gun didn’t waver even slightly. Not a single twitch of his eye.
Seungri shifted his weight to the other foot, shuffling backwards and glancing briefly down towards the river and then back up again, his smile faltering at the edges. “Y- you made your point,” he said, foricng a lighter tone. “Scared the shit out of me, actually. So-” He lifted one hand in a casual gesture. “…Maybe lower that?”
Nothing.
The river roared beneath the bridge, louder now in Seungri’s skull.
His fingers slowly curled back into his palm, eyes nervously returning to the gun. “Come on…” quieter this time. “You’re not gonna shoot me.”
Seunghyun still didn’t answer. Not a blink. Didn’t shift his stance. The wind coming off the water tugged faintly at the edge of his now open coat, without need to be held tightly closed in that moment.
An uneasy expression took over Seungri’s face completely. His gaze flickered across his face again, searching harder now.
“Hyung.”
Silence.
“…Right?”
Seunghyun’s finger slid slowly back to the hammer of the gun, index in its place on the trigger.
The soft metallic click was almost swallowed by the rush of the river.
But Seungri heard it. For the first time, there was true fear in his eyes. The sociopathic blankness from his sentencing was nowhere to be seen.
The colour drained completely from his face.
“Wait–!”
Seunghyun pulled the trigger.
The gunshot cracked through the narrow space under the bridge, flat and abrupt, the sound ricocheting once off the concrete before dissolving into the rush of the river.
Seungri jerked.
For a split second he didn’t seem to understand what had happened. His body rocked backwards as if someone had shoved him, balance faltering on the landing. The incredulity was still there in his face, frozen.
His eyes locked onto Seunghyun’s, wide. Not even afraid yet.
Just stunned. His mind tripping over something it couldn’t process.
The breath he tried to pull in came out as a short, broken noise.
His heel missed the edge of the guard step.
The movement was clumsy, uncoordinated. One hand shot out instinctively, fingers grasping at empty air where the railing should have been. For a moment, his weight tipped there, suspended between the stairs and the dark open chasm behind him.
Then gravity decided, the final judge.
Seungri’s body went over the edge.
There was no long scream, no flailing panic, no dramatics- only the sudden absence of him as he dropped backwards into the darkness below.
A distant splash rose up a few seconds later, swallowed almost immediately by the constant roar of the river.
Then it was quiet again.
Seunghyun didn’t move.
The gun remained steady in his hand for a few seconds longer, still aimed at the empty space where Seungri had been standing. Nothing Seungri could have said was going to change anything. He didn’t deserve the privilege of final words. The river kept moving beneath the bridge, indifferent, carrying the sound of the evidence away into the night. Above, another car passed across the bridge.
Life went on.
Slowly, Seunghyun lowered the gun, and stuffed it gently back into his coat.