The one closest is the kith, the one farthest the kin

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MR. HAN was not too different from Chwe Hansol, Hoseok noted, as the solicitor let the siblings inside his office. Slick and clerkish, his sly face and average height wasn't intimidating and yet, Hoseok knew he was in for some sick trouble if he got on the wrong side of him. It made sense why Namjoon would entrust details of his will with this man, as did many other prominent profiles.  

Despite that, Hoseok had the upper hand and knowing the details of Kim Namjoon's will was of utmost importance. Mr. Han didn't have the power to object to this, no matter how much it affected his customer policy. Since Seokjin, Namjoon's heir had given the green light, he had to bite his tongue and listen to whatever Hoseok had to say. 

Wheein didn't fail to notice the throbbing vein in Mr. Han's forehead notwithstanding his bright, practised smile. 

After sifting for the particular document in one of his imposing cabinets, Mr. Han soon emerged with Namjoon's will in hand, looking like a cricket fielder with a prized ball that managed to uproot a wicket from the opposing team. 

"Here it is," he brandished to Hoseok, who took it from him. 

Peering from his shoulder, Wheein read the will and wasn't surprised one bit with the information it unveiled. 

Kim Namjoon had left his wife the Korean equivalent of five million dollars. His daughter was given half the amount and the remainder after death duties were paid would go to Kim Seokjin, the residuary legatee, besides a reminder that only Kim Seokjin could be the inheritor of Kim Enterprises and no one else, unless Seokjin himself stepped down. There wasn't a single mention of Kim Taehyung or any other living relative. 

A little perturbed, Hoseok posed a question to Mr. Han.

"What is the financial position of Kim Enterprises?" 

"Fairly okay. It suffered a few minor losses last year but nothing too shaky. I think the firm would be able to pay out the amount to Mrs. Kim and Ms. Kim if they wished to take it out of the firm. Seokjin is the sole inheritor and a perfect candidate for it, so if they cut down on a little of the investing they should be in a favorable position."

Wheein looked strangely at Hoseok. His face divulged nothing. She would have to wait until they were out of Mr. Han's presence. 

*

As they descended down the stairs, Wheein opened her mouth to ask a question but Hoseok beat her to.

"It doesn't fit."

Wheein frowned.

"What doesn't?"

"The financial status. Maybe Mr. Han was misinformed, I cannot be sure. It just doesn't feel right, for some strange reason," Hoseok said. 

Wheein pursed her lips. To her, it all fitted very well. Joohyun benefitted the most and she was clearly not disturbed by Namjoon's death. Yerim benefitted too, thus making her a candidate and yet was she a likely candidate? No, dismissed Wheein. 

"Who do you suspect, Hoseok? My bets are on Joohyun, like I have said before."

"Strange as it seems, I don't completely trust Seokjin or even Hansol. The principal beneficiary is Joohyun, as the will points out. Yet, it feels like there's something missing to point me in the correct direction of the murderer."

Wheein didn't contradict him. Yes, Hansol benefitted too, from his marriage to Yerim. That is, if Yerim decided to let him use her money ...

*

Due to Seokjin's constant badgering, Taehyung and Jungkook decided to visit the house for dinner. They were currently in their hotel room, getting ready.

"Do I look okay?" Jungkook asked, as he donned a tie. Taehyung looked away from the bathroom mirror and saw his husband in a suit. 

Hiding his smile, Taehyung said: "You're trying too hard, darling. It's just family, there's nobody you need to impress there. Least of all my brother who invited us."

"Why do you have that tone of disgust every time you talk about him?" 

Taehyung was taken aback. "What tone are you talking about?"

Jungkook looked up from buttoning his cuffs, a handsome smile on his face as he spoke. 

"You know what tone I'm talking about. As if there's utterly no respect left for him in you, is what one gathers from that tone."

Taehyung let the words set in his mind and didn't respond for nearly a minute. After much beating around the bush, he began to shoot the breeze.

"You may be right. I have lost respect for him ever since-" Taehyung stopped, like so many other times he had, every time he recalled a fragment of his buried past. 

Jungkook immediately realized that his question may have, again, caused some pain to his husband. Being brought up in a more accepting setting, he was spared from the more common harassment that many like Taehyung had to go through. And it was for this very reason that Taehyung was kicked, not just from his firm but from his very own family. 

"It's completely fine if you don't feel comfortable speaking-"

"No, Jungkook. You deserve the truth. After everything that you've done for me, you have earned it and it would be wrong of me to be dishonest with one so dear."

Taehyung checked his watch. "I suppose we could spare more than an hour. And this story won't take long," he chuckled.

Jungkook smiled, encouraging him to go on.

"Two years before I met you, my sexuality was still in the dark from my family. I knew that my father wouldn't be too happy about it, being the perfectly conservative man he was. Still, he wasn't that bad to me. My brother - actually, my cousin - would keep popping up from time to time, not just at our house, but even in our office. I was a very junior manager back then and my father was grooming me to take over the company. At the impressionable age of twenty-four, I assumed that once I took over and dazzled my father with some of my achievements, I could safely step out of the closet. For he was a man who put skill above everything else, despite his narrow-mindedness."

Jungkook wore a rue smile, understanding the direction in which the story was going. And yet, he found it necessary to wonder: what had Seokjin, of all people, got to do with it?

"You must understand that even though I lived with these people, they had no idea of my private life. Once a week, I would visit a gay bar in town - surreptitiously masked well enough from any heterosexual eye - to relieve myself."

Jungkook raised an eyebrow to which Taehyung shook his head. 

"No, not in the way you're thinking. To meet those from the same mould as me and to be reassured that there were people more like me - that I was not alone. Of course, there were occasional flings when I could help it. It was all going smoothly, my father in the dark, I; a few steps closer to inheriting the company."

"What went wrong?" Jungkook said and wasn't surprised when the uttered words left him in the form of a whisper. 

"Seokjin," Taehyung grimaced. Jungkook frowned.

"What do you mean? Did he-" he began, the horror slowly descending on him.

Taehyung nodded, an ironic, lipless smile spreading on his face. 

"He found out, somehow. He promised me that he wouldn't tell but I suppose his best interests were not in keeping his word. He managed to sneak in some photos to my father, to boot. I still wonder how he managed to take them."

"Photos of you ... in compromising positions?" Jungkook hesitantly asked.

"Uh huh," Taehyung nodded, casting his eyes down. He still wore that smile and yet, Jungkook could see it waning at the same time and melting into an inhumane mask of wrath. 

"You don't have to talk about it anymore, Taehyung. I got the gist-" he started, but Taehyung didn't hear him. He had returned to the time when he was twenty-four, standing in front of his father's office. 

He remembered the bewilderment he had felt when he had opened the door to find his father fuming, Seokjin standing behind his secretary desk, utterly lost for words. He could almost hear the labored breath of Namjoon with each breath, could almost feel the choking sensation when his father clasped his hands around his neck. Seokjin's lowered eyes stung him once again and the public humiliation before the entire company's employees pierced his heart again. 

He was back to being twenty-four and all the eyes were the same, exactly like his father - harsh, unfeeling and ruthless. 

"Are you okay?" Jungkook softly spoke.

Taehyung blinked back tears and the fact that he managed to speak despite the huge lump in his throat, surprised him.

"I think I need some fresh air. Why don't you meet me in the lobby five minutes before it's go-time?"

Jungkook cradled Taehyung's cheek in his palm. 

"Of course, whatever makes you feel better, baby. Just give me a ring if you need me, okay?" Jungkook smiled gently. Taehyung pressed a kiss on his forehead.

"I will. Wait for my call, okay?" 

Jungkook nodded. Taehyung left the room, the door making the least audible click it could muster. Jungkook stood, rooted to the same spot as before, lost in his thoughts. 

Was it possible for one to stoop as low as Seokjin had, just to satisfy their greed?

*

In the dining room of the House of Kim, Son Seungwan surveyed the dishes in front of her, occasionally dipping a spoon to have a taste or leaning in to take a sniff. With a nod of approval, she dismissed an anxious Mrs. Song and turned to Jimin.

"Get some croutons. Who knows what Mr. Kim Taehyung and Mr. Jeon may prefer with their salad. And some butter too - in little circular bowls - for the bread."

Jimin bowed and exited the dining room. 

Seungwan strolled around the table another time, stopping by at times to adjust a fork or knife or straighten out the tablecloth. Stepping away, she gave the table one last glance and a hum of assent. 

She left the dining room and decided to head to her own room. To invoke a more festive spirit, she needed to change into a shade lighter than the one she was wearing. What exact difference would a lighter grey make to a family reunion, couldn't be explained. 

She ascended the stairs to go to the first floor where her room was situated. Glancing outside the picture window between the ground floor and the first floor, Seungwan stopped momentarily in her tracks. Blinking a few times, she edged closer to the window and scanned the area again. Seeing nothing out of the ordinary, she went back her way. 

*

Jimin left the kitchen with a tray balanced on one hand, containing the butter and croutons. He entered the dining room, set the food at their required places and left, the tray tucked under his armpit. He cast his eyes down. His shoes were still as shiny as they had been the last time he cleaned them - which was half an hour ago - yet, he set the tray on a nearby cabinet top and bent down to polish them with his kerchief. When he was satisfied with his work, he got up. 

Just then, the telephone rang. Stumbling a little, Jimin sprinted to where it was and hastily picked up the receiver. 

"The Humble House of Kim, who's speaking?" 

*

Yerim went into the dining room at half past seven, ten minutes before the meeting time. She saw the dishes already set and tutted.

"Won't they get cold for eating? Sometimes I wish that Seungwan would take other things besides presentation into consideration."

"A closer look would tell you that those are the hors d'oeuvres, not the entire meal," drawled a voice behind her. 

Yeri rolled her eyes. She didn't even need to turn behind to know who it was.

"Maybe if you called them appetizers like any other normal person, I would take your word for it."

Seokjin took his seat.

"Too bad; once a stubborn mule, forever a donkey."

"Oh, har har." Yerim took hers too. 

"Why are you so early?" Seokjin asked. "It's so unlike you."

"Well, I'm excited to meet my brother. It's been a long time since he-"

"Since he was kicked out, yes," Seokjin completed. Yerim glared at him.

"And whose fault was that?"

"Not mine, I seem to recall," Seokjin coolly uttered, popping an olive in his mouth. 

"Don't be so subtle about it," Yerim snorted, disbelieving. "You delivered the photos to Father, didn't you?"

"Delivered them. I didn't capture them," Seokjin pointed out. 

"Does that wash away what you did?" Yerim shot, to which Seokjin fell silent. 

"I didn't do it," he said, after a long pause. 

"What rot-"

"I didn't do it, Yerim. I swore him my secrecy and I can't possibly think of anyone else who would have grudge against him to do that. Maybe someone else he meddled with in his personal, shady dealings?"

Now, this made Yerim angry, very angry. She had tried, time and again, to forgive Seokjin, but now he was refusing to even accept his mistake. He went too far.

"Don't blubber your stupid excuses. Who gained the most from his expulsion? You did. Who rose in Father's eyes the minute Taehyung was out of the picture? You did. So what if he likes men? I cannot point the blame at Father since he was always so intolerant, but you? Of all the people, Taehyung trusted you the most. And you dare say that it wasn't your fault?"

Yerim stood up, he chair making a loud creaking noise as she did.

"I apologize, but I need some fresh air. I would prefer having my best spirits up for my dear brother than have them ruined by some slimy suck-up," Yerim thundered and stormed out of the room.

Seokjin did not stop her. Dropping the second olive he had picked up back into its place (which was in a little bowl), he let out words that only he could hear.

"I didn't do it."

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