Almost ten minutes had elapsed since Yooan arrived at the dining table, tapping his fingers against the teak table-top as he glimpsed every now and then to ensure that the monotonous ticking of the nearby wall clock had not actually ended up freezing time around him. His leg muscles continued to provide him spasms that were unasked-for, a tingling sensation simultaneously erupting in his chest. He tried to distract himself from the overbearing anxiety that hovered above his head, fiddling with the hydrangeas that were contained in a glass vase kept across him.

Yooan was nowhere close to being pacified anytime soon. Ideas kept on suggesting themselves to him, inhibition keen on invading his mind— but there was hardly anything that he could do in order to steer clear of them. He swept his hands across his face, fingers raking through his hair. A shallow sigh escaped from his mouth, its nature fleeting since the two incoming silhouettes had ended up making him land on his toes. Lips curling in a reluctant smile, his eyes met with his parents' one after the other.

"Yooan, what a pleasure to have you at the table today, my child!" Mr. Choi expressed his delight, unconsciously stirring his wife into bobbing her head in agreement with him. "How long has it been, since the three of us shared a meal together? I can't recall even if I try to. But it's still nice to see you finally sitting next to me. I've missed this."

"It makes me feel a little guilty now that you've put it like this," Yooan commented, his smile never fading. "We should always live like it's our last day. A bit too late to have learned so, I know, but better late than never." He swerved his gaze in his mother's direction, "Right, mom?"

"Sounds very wise coming from you." The father chimed in, at long last refraining from toying with the food on his plate and subsequently shoving a meatball into his mouth.

"It's not just a proverb, Dad. It's a fucking piece of brutal truth for you." Yooan snarled out of the blue, immediately earning a disapproving look from his mother— that he ultimately chose to ignore. "It's your last day of this life. And oh, your last meal too. So enjoy while you still can."

A smile had reappeared on Yooan's face, but it was definitely not along the lines of candid bliss. If anything, it gave a venomous reflection, grudging in every sense of the word. A shudder shot down Chungok's— her mother's— spine, eyes widening in disbelief upon hearing such words rolling off her son's tongue.

But before she could protest, let alone rebuke him, her husband coughed loudly, spitting in utter disgust whatever he had eaten till then. He then proceeded to gulp down an entire glass of water in a single go, probably to cool himself down, instantly clicking his tongue in disapproval once he was done drinking. Though for some reason, his son did not seem a tad fazed. Instead, he showed signs of extreme contentment. As if the motive that he had in his mind all along had already been achieved by him.

If the idiom the calm before the storm were to be personified, it would undoubtedly materialise as Yooan of that precise moment.

"I never specifically referred to food, Dad, did I? It was in the water that you just chugged down so impatiently. The ricin that I've dissolved in it won't be patient either, and before you'll even manage to grasp what's happening to you, your cells would've failed you by then and you'll choke to death— Oh, seems like it's begun to work." Yooan deflected from the ongoing explanation when his father suddenly collapsed on the floor, gripping his neck as the color of his face transformed into a deep shade of red.

Yooan's mother was perceptive enough to get the drift of what all had transpired in a blink of an eye, diving towards her asphyxiating husband with an expression that carried immense trepidation. Once she had settled next to him on the ground, a piercing glare was shot by her at Yooan. With jaw clenched and eyes bloodshot, she inspected her son's impassive features before muttering.

"This behavior is unacceptable, Yooan. Now hurry and call the ambulance before it gets too late and there still remains a scope for you to atone for your sins. First that innocent classmate of yours and then your own father, for crying out loud? You've crossed every damned boundary in the world, you ingrate!"

"And getting paid back for the injustice that he has subjected me to by keeping me confined to a fucking room doesn't sound unacceptable to you? I had every right to succeed him as the next Chairman, but he fucking ripped me off it! I was entitled to that position, Mom, not that nameless son of a bitch who'll get to warm the seat in my place now. Can't you see how I have been suffering all this while?" Yooan's voice hitched, though he soon maintained his equilibrium when he his gaze fell upon the almost-defunct man.

"That hypocrite deserved it—"

"Choi Yooan!" Chungok roared, making Yooan flinch at the unanticipated address.

"Bad for you that you chose to remain stone-deaf despite my pleas, Mother. You do realize that I can easily pin all the blame on you, considering how we're the only ones present in this room? You do, right? I had originally planned to leave you out of my vendetta against Dad and everything related— even the company for fuck's sake! But it's alright, stay by your dead husband's side and mourn for him, if that's what you truly like. By the way, did you even bother to check whether he's alive anymore or not?" Yooan quirked a brow, his lips gradually forming a baleful smile.

Chungok instantly leaned over to do what had been implied by Yooan, switching and placing the front and back side of her palm all over her husband's forehead before finally brushing her fingers against his inanimate pulse under the thin and wrinkly skin of his wrist, only to figure out that he had already breathed his last amidst all that chaos. Tears started to accumulate in her waterline as she alternated her glances between Yooan and her motionless husband, a feeble sob emanating from her.

"Why did you have to go to such lengths, Yooan? How will you ever be at peace knowing what you did to your own father?" She wailed, hiccups following soon after.

"As if that is ever gonna matter to me and my conscience," Yooan snickered, eventually fixating his intense gaze at his mother. "I'm passionate for my dreams, Mother dear. I'd do anything to inch closer to them. For example, right now, getting myself a new identity is important for me to continue on my journey. So who's gonna do that for me? You."

Chungok stared at him incredulously, provoking him to resume, "Now you must be wondering why I handpicked you to do so, right? Well, that's because I hold the power right now. You don't wanna end up like him, do you? Dying a mysterious death while others try to cloak their inefficiency by calling it a natural one?" She blinked once in bewilderment, which Yooan probably mistook as her conformation, for he let out a victorious cackle, "You made the right call. Great job."

Inserting one of his hand in the pocket of his trouser, he pivoted around, halting mid-tracks just to clarify, "And oh, I don't wanna be a Korean anymore. An American or Canadian label would be nice," and sauntered away the very next second, leaving his parents— one dead while the other barely alive— in the lurch.

▪️

PRESENT

"That bastard ruined everything. I feel ashamed in calling him my son. It would've been much better if I had never birthed him." Chungok's remarks were succinct, yet displayed well the agony that she must be undergoing all those years.

"Whatever happened with you and your family, it's just too much to take. I can never imagine being in your shoes." Youngmi attempted at consoling the old woman, stroking her back with her hand. "And it's not your fault that your son grew up to be such a horrible person. Things tend to slip out of hands sometimes, we can't do anything about it."

"But we did play a role in letting his callous inclinations foster. We did bail him out from the centre and glossed over his misdeeds. He would've been able to understand how easy of a life he had been living earlier if we had just let him be there. Go through whatever correction procedures and therapies that they have there. Maybe a better Yooan would've come out of there, then." Chungok whimpered, though she still proved to be expeditious when it came to swatting away the tears that were likely to debouch from her eyes.

"It's fine, your tried your best—" Youngmi could not comfort her elderly acquaintance further when Nora's blaring ringtone wound up interjecting, with the latter passing an apologetic smile as a result.

"Yes?" Nora squeaked as she listened to the speaker in a looming embarrassment, "Okay, we'll be there ASAP." She hung up the call, rallying glances between Namjoon and Youngmi in an unfaltering conviction. "About time, my friends. Ewan Choi is ready to be interrogated."

The other two had unconsciously ended up mirroring the female detective's visage, as they nodded in unison, bade adieu to the hapless old woman, and stomped out of the hospital at once.

▪️

a/n

so what do you think about this chapter? did i do a good job? were you on the edge the entire time? i really hope that you were hehe🤪 not truly tho, i assume you're all keeping well these days, hm? i'm very sad to announce that next week is gonna be the last week for this book. like, are we really done with 'sweet tooth' already? dayum, i can never understand this concept of time😩 also, ricin is bean poison. and it's not easy to trace in blood/tissue lol that's why ewan is so confident. speaking from the experience of watching 'breaking bad' hahaha. not experience-experience, don't worry😂 anyway, if the chapter was upto your liking, do ensure to vote and comment. i'll be glad if you do! thank you for reading <3