GANGBUSTER CHAPTER TWO: THE LONG GOOD FRIDAY

"What's with you?" she asked, voice dripping with disgust.

Rafiel swallowed hard. "It's… I… I'm happy. I'm happy to see you."

Hana scoffed. "What are you talking about? You made it crystal clear yesterday that I don't mean shit to you." She didn't wait for his response, descending the steps and brushing past Rafiel.

"Hana, wait!"

She didn't even turn around. Instead, she threw a dismissive wave over her shoulder. "Whatever. I don't care."

His gaze flicked to the wall, landing on the calendar. Friday, July 6th. His stomach turned. "Shit. Today's the day I left South Korea. But originally… I was already gone by now. I didn't want to face her after what I said."

This was it. His chance to change things.

"Hey, Hana?"

She stopped but didn't turn. "What?"

"Would it be okay if I… walked you to school?"

Hana finally turned to face him, her expression blank for a brief moment before twisting into a glare. "No."

Rafiel chuckled awkwardly. "Could you at least pretend to think about it for a second?"

Her stare hardened. "Look," she snapped, stepping closer, voice low but sharp enough to cut, "you made it clear yesterday that me and Dad mean nothing to you. I'm not your sister. I'm just the daughter of some guy your mom got with. You told me that to my face, Rafiel. So let's not pretend this place is your home when you already decided it isn't."

He flinched. The way she said it—so final, so bitter—made his chest ache.

"So," she continued, folding her arms. "Do you need anything else? Or am I free to leave?"

Rafiel opened his mouth, but no words came.

Hana scoffed, shaking her head. "Yeah. That's what I thought." She turned toward the door.

"Hana, wait—"

She paused, one hand on the doorknob. "What now?"

He hesitated, then blurted out, "Please… don't get with Gim Ji-ho."

That caught her off guard. She turned slightly, brows furrowing. "What?"

Rafiel clenched his fists. She can't go out with Ji-ho or else… that future.

"Where is that coming from?" she asked, confused. She wondered if he was actually worried she'll replace him.

"Ji-ho's a bad guy," Rafiel said firmly. "You know he is. He doesn't care about anything or anyone. He gets his kicks from hurting people. Please, just stay away from him."

Hana's expression darkened. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

Rafiel blinked. "Huh?"

"You spent all of yesterday saying some of the worst shit you've ever said to me. And now you suddenly care about who I date?" Her voice wavered, but her fury kept it steady. "Well guess what? Fuck. You."

Rafiel's stomach dropped.

Hana's jaw clenched. "You say Ji-ho doesn't care about anything, but at least he still wants me around. Meanwhile, you—my so-called big brother—are ready to leave me forever. Oh sorry I forgot, you aren't my brother, because I don't mean anything to you, right?" She took a step back, shaking her head in disgust. "So keep your fake concern to yourself. If you're leaving, then why should you care what happens to me once you're gone?"

"Hana, wait—"

She didn't. She yanked the door open, stormed out, and slammed it shut behind her.

Silence.

Rafiel stood there, staring at the door. A lump lodged itself in his throat, guilt pressing down on him like a weight.

It really was all me… I sent Hana down the path to Ji-ho. And just now… I failed to pull her back.

Rafiel turned and walked to his room, his footsteps heavy. The plane ticket sat on his desk, exactly where he'd left it. He picked it up, turning it over in his fingers.

(Maybe I should just go. Maybe I can make a better life for myself in America. Hana's already headed down this path, and after what I said to her yesterday… there's no way she'd ever listen to me now.)

A knock at the door jolted him from his thoughts.

Frowning, he set the ticket down. "Hana?"

He opened the door to find a tall, middle-aged man standing there. His sharp features were softened by a wolf-cut hairstyle, and his worn leather jacket which gave him a fairly youthful demeanor.

The man gave a sheepish smile. "Oh, sorry, I might have the wrong house. I'm looking for Park Byung-ho."

Rafiel raised an eyebrow. "You got the right place. He lives here, but he's out of town."

The man chuckled. "Ha! Lemme guess, still running that little shop on the beach?" He laughed to himself, shaking his head.

Rafiel studied him. "You an old friend?"

"Yeah, you could say that. Just came to check up on him." His eyes flicked to Rafiel. "So who are you? His housekeeper?"

Rafiel smirked. "Nah. I'm actually his stepso—" He hesitated. The words felt wrong, hollow. He thought of Byung-ho, of Hana, of the years they'd spent together. His chest tightened.

"His son," he said firmly. "I'm his son."

The man's eyes widened in shock. "Son?! Wait—did he get remarried?"

Rafiel chuckled. "Hey, I've got an hour before I leave. You want some coffee?"

The man grinned. "I'd love some."

The man sobbed heavily. He wiped his eyes, his broad shoulders trembling. "I can't believe my best friend didn't invite me to his wedding!" His voice cracked with disbelief, the betrayal cutting deep.

Rafiel sat across from him, sipping his coffee, watching the older man unravel. "Did you two have some sort of falling out?"

Jae-Sun exhaled sharply, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, I guess you could say that. But it was so long ago, I thought we were past it. That's why I decided to come by, check up on him. But I guess he really doesn't want me around..."

Rafiel studied him, brow furrowed. He thought to himself, (Byung-ho never mentioned this guy before—at least not from what I remember. What happened between them?)

The man sniffed and straightened up, shaking off the emotion. "Anyway, so Byung-ho has a son now? That's great! Step-son or not, the guy always wanted kids. And now he has two! Lucky bastard." He gave a small grin. "You in school?"

"I graduated early."

The man gave an impressed whistle. "Byung-ho really raised a smart one, huh? You going to university?"

Rafiel hesitated. "Nah... I, uh, I decided to head back to America. That's where I have to go in an hour."

The man lifted his coffee mug to take a sip but paused mid-motion, his sharp gaze landing on Rafiel. "Oh? May I ask why?"

Rafiel shrugged, forcing a casual tone. "Because that's my home. It's where I belong. And it's not like Byung-ho or Hana are my real family."

The moment the words left his mouth, the man stopped completely, his cup hovering inches from his lips. His expression darkened, and he slowly set it back down on the table.

"Why not?"

Rafiel blinked. "Huh?"

The man leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "Why aren't Byung-ho or Hana your family? Do they treat you badly?"

"No, they're really nice to me," Rafiel admitted.

"Do they make you feel unwelcome in their home?"

"I mean... no, not really."

"Do they treat you like you're a part of their family?"

Rafiel hesitated. His fingers curled around his coffee cup. "...Yeah. They do."

The man nodded, his expression thoughtful before he locked eyes with Rafiel. "Then what's going on, kid? Talk to me."

Rafiel swallowed hard. "What?"

"You're saying they're not your family, but it's clear as hell that's not why you're leaving. So what is it? What's driving you to walk away?"

Rafiel exhaled shakily, staring into his coffee like it held the answer he needed. Finally, he muttered, "Okay... look..."

Moments later, after a deep conversation..

Rafiel sat back, staring at his untouched coffee as the man leaned forward. "So let me get this straight. You're leaving because some bully's obsessed with your sister and makes your life hell over it?"

"Yeah. Essentially."

The man frowned. "And instead of standing up to this punk, you're abandoning Hana to deal with him alone?"

Rafiel froze. The words hit him like a punch to the gut.

"I… I didn't think—"

"Exactly," the man interrupted. "You didn't think. You're so focused on running that you don't see what you're leaving behind." He sat his mug down and stood. "Get up."

Rafiel hesitated. "Huh?"

"Get up."

Slowly, Rafiel stood.

The man studied him. "This Ji-ho guy, I've fought guys like this before, they have huge, fragile egos. If you wanna get him in a position where it's just you versus him, attack him verbally. Say something that makes him feel insecure about his masculinity. That always works. Once he's ready to fight you one-on-one, he'll be angry. And cocky."

 He's a punk. An insecure little coward who hides behind a gang. You want him alone. Hit his ego. Make him feel small. He'll challenge you one-on-one, and that's when you strike."

Rafiel frowned. "But I've never fought before."

The man smirked. "I can tell. But that's okay. A good punch isn't about experience—it's about control. And if you hit the right spot, you only need one."

Rafiel raised a brow. "You mean you're going to teach me some special punch?"

The man laughed. "Hell no, but I am gonna teach you how to put a bitch on the floor with one hit."

Rafiel raised a brow, but the man didn't wait for a response. He shifted into a stance, fists loose but ready, and continued.

"Aim for the chin. People always go for cheek shots. Bad move." He tapped his own cheek as he spoke. "There's a lot of cushion there. The chin, though? Open. Exposed. One clean, solid hit will lay his ass out." He smirked. "And even if it doesn't, it'll lower his health bar enough that you can just kick him afterwards to drain all his HP."

Rafiel blinked. (What's with all the RPG references?) He thought to himself. He crossed his arms, skeptical. "That it?"

The man dropped his stance and clapped a hand on Rafiel's shoulder. "Try it out next time you see him." His voice was casual, like he was handing out life advice instead of street-fighting tips. "I'm gonna bounce. Only came by to chit-chat and catch up. Got other places to be." He reached out his hand, offering a firm shake. "But it was a pleasure talking to you, Rafiel."

Rafiel clasped his hand. "Same." Then, a thought struck him. "Oh, wait. Sorry, I never got your name."

The man grinned. "It's Lee Jae-Sun. And feel free to drop by my spot anytime."

"Your spot?"

"Yeah. Just opened a gym downtown—Bloody-Knuckles." His chest swelled with a hint of pride. "Come by. I'll give you some lessons on the house."

Rafiel's eyes widened slightly. "Wow, that's really cool of you."

Jae-Sun smirked as he stepped toward the door. "What can I say?" He shot Rafiel a playful glance over his shoulder. "I'm a really cool guy."

He made it halfway out the door before pausing. Turning back, his expression turned serious, just for a moment.

"Oh, and Rafiel—never turn your back on those who would never turn their back on you." His gaze lingered, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. "Just some advice from an old man." He gave a casual wave as he stepped outside, closing the door behind him.

Silence.

Rafiel stood there, staring at the ticket in his hands. His fingers trembled slightly as a storm of emotions crashed into him all at once.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?"

He clenched his jaw. "Ten years ago, I abandoned Hana and Byung-Ho. And it got them both killed." The weight of his past bore down on him, a suffocating pressure in his chest. "The words I said to Hana… they drove her straight into the arms of a man who got her murdered."

His grip on the ticket tightened. He had been fully prepared to leave again. Fully prepared to let it all happen all over again.

Then, like a haunting specter, the image of Hana filled his mind—her final moments. The fear in her eyes. The loneliness. The helplessness.

"No."

His gaze hardened.

"Not this time."

Without hesitation, he tore the ticket to shreds. The tiny pieces fluttered to the floor like dead leaves in the wind.

"No more fuckin' running…" he muttered, voice raw with resolve.

He took a steady breath, then whispered, almost like a vow—one meant for someone who could no longer hear it.

"Hana, you have my word. Your big brother will never abandon you. Never again."