The ceiling looked like it could swallow him, and personally, Tae Kamkyung wanted it to do just that. Anything to avoid the bad end he was clearly heading to.

He inhaled, dark brown eyes staring at it. Never in his life did he hate himself more than right now.

No matter how cold-hearted, how trained he was, he couldn't make himself do this to the kids. He couldn't betray their trust. They were just so pure. They had to be protected.

This was his job, though. He owed his boss for taking him in. For raising him. He couldn't leave him.

The pros and cons swam around his head, trying to make themselves out as the best solution. But he didn't trust any of them. He wanted this to be a completely unbiased opinion. An objective one. If he let anything else influence him, he might not be able to make it. 

He knew that his emotions could spill out and make him want to stop his job on the spot. 

Exhale. He wasn't going to get anywhere if he kept on staring at the sky above, was he? He had to do something. He couldn't just let that jerk do as he pleased. The way Kamkyung saw it, he was just a spoiled brat who enjoyed making others hurt to inflate his ego. Selfish. Arrogant. 

Those things were traits he did NOT like at all. 

Yet, he knew what awaited him after the showdown.

After I get the weapons back, I'll have to leave... But I don't want to leave the kids.

He groaned, trying to push all the burden he had on his shoulders with it. Unfortunately, it failed, and only made him feel worse.

However, one thing felt clear after that. 

The vice principal had to be stopped.

From there, his mind grew clear.

If he was gone, maybe the kids could have better lives.

Maybe... Maybe he didn't have to leave them forever. Maybe he could come visit when he wasn't busy. They didn't have to know about his occupation at all. 

Yeah! That sounded good!

His priorities cleared up. 

Right now, he had to stop the jerk who was preventing all this from happening. As long as he was around, the kids would never find solace and peace in their lives. They would be tortured relentlessly, and they would never find their true selves in all the misery he was bringing upon them. 

He would die before that happened.

And so, he gathered his courage, rose from his temporary bed, allowing the moonlight streaks to hit his shaggy brown hair, and sprinted to the door. Once he slid his jacket on, he slipped out and ran to the parking lot, making sure that he didn't have a tail or anything. 

It was time to confront him. 

Quickly sending a text to the headmaster and his Boss which had all the evidence they needed to put him behind bars, he got to his car and slid in, igniting the engine. 

He inhaled, and his eyes hardened slightly. 

No more hesitation. This wasn't just for the sake of his group. 

No, it was for the kids as well. 

To give them a chance at having a better life than he had. 

As he drove out of the lot, he began to remember all the times he had spent with the kids. Every group therapy session. Roleplaying. Games. 

He remembered their smiles. Their laughter. 

He was not going to let them suffer anymore. The kids deserved that at least. They had been through so much. 

He...

He owed them that. 

The speed increased. His eyes landed on the kit he had brought along with him. 

A part of him wanted to take the gun and be over and done with it, but he knew that he had to pay for what he did. So the weapon went to the back, and he exchanged those for a pair of brass knuckles. At a red light, he was going to slide his usual black gloves on, but he caught something that had been under the knuckles. 

His eyes widened. They were gloves the class had pooled together to buy for him, having given him them after his first official week as a thank you. The rainbow colours truly stood out. If he wore those, he would be exposed for sure. 

However, his body beat his logic, putting the gloves on and admiring them. Smiling as well, he slowly put his black gloves back into their usual compartment. 

Not tonight. 

Tonight, he was going to stand out. 

He was going to make sure the smuggler got the bitter medicine to swallow. 

But these gloves were going to help him remember what he was fighting for. 

No matter what, I can't sink down to his levels, he resolved, putting his hands on the steering wheel once more as the traffic from the opposite side began decreasing. Maybe the old me, the cold one, would have just sent him to jail, but now, I have something to fight for. 

He would never admit this, but in the month that he had spent with them, he had sympathised with them. He had connected. It was like they had touched a part he had long forgotten about. 

It was like they had opened up the door to his familial feelings, the ones that he had thought were destroyed that fateful day when he had been sold. 

Somehow, they had touched it, and reminded him of the warmth.

He inhaled, eyes now narrowed in focus. In concentration. 

This was not going to be easy, but he was ready to face it. 

For the kids, he realised, he was ready to do anything. 

No matter the cost.