AA Chapter 1.3

The place Tennessee entered was a bar.

I hope I don’t run into that annoying nephew. As he opened the door, Tennessee looked for someone.

Previously, Tennessee had left his car and new identity here. It was meant as a precaution for unexpected situations, but now he briefly regretted what seemed like a foolish decision.

Although that person had agreed to keep them because he owed Tennessee a debt, gang members changed quickly due to the nature of gangs, and people who were fine one day could end up dead the next. There wasn’t even a guarantee that the person who was supposed to give him the new identity was still alive.

“Hey, look who it is.”

But the annoying ones always seem to be the most resilient. The one who greeted Tennessee pretending to be pleased to see him was just like that.

Alejandro welcomed Tennessee with open arms. He was quite an influential man who held a middle position among Latino gangs.

“What brings you all the way here?”

“I came to get what your uncle promised me.”

As soon as Tennessee finished speaking, the man spat with obvious annoyance.

“Sorry, but he’s no longer here. He’s in the Lord’s embrace now.”

The silver cross on the man’s necklace swayed mockingly. Tennessee couldn’t understand this honest hypocrisy.

Selling drugs, forcing illegal immigrants from Mexico into prostitution, committing murder without hesitation, yet maintaining devout faith. Perhaps it was because of their devout faith that they did such things even more. After all, true repentance was all that was needed, wasn’t it?

“But I heard my uncle owed you something, Tennessee.”

The man gestured behind the bar. Though reluctant, Tennessee followed him in.

Tennessee prided himself on having an easy-going personality, but if there was one type he particularly disliked, it was drug dealers. He didn’t just dislike drug dealers, but hated them. Having had a heroin addict for a mother, Tennessee knew the terrible and destructive nature of drugs. He couldn’t help but hate drug dealers who were directly involved in spreading the drugs.

A hitman who hates drug dealers – Tennessee knew it was contradictory. Either way, he wasn’t different in terms of causing harm to society.

“How did Carlito die?”

“It was an honorable death. He’s probably proud of me in heaven.”

I doubt it. Tennessee’s smile had such obvious meaning. The Carlito he knew was an old relic. He was someone who joined the gang not for money and pleasure, but for resistance to power and love for his family. Displeasure crept into his expression at Tennessee’s look.

“Keys.”

However, there wasn’t much Alejandro could do. After all, Carlito owed Tennessee a great debt, and as someone in a gang that valued honor, Alejandro, as his blood relative, had an obligation to repay that debt.

Car keys and a passport fell onto Tennessee’s outstretched hand. Tennessee checked the name on the vehicle registration and his ID. What a straight-laced name. After that thought, Tennessee put the necessary items in his pocket.

“Seeing you look for these things, it seems like things aren’t going well for you lately.”

“Better than your drug business.”

“If you want, I could give you work.”

Finally, the main point comes out. Tennessee found it absurd.

“Take jobs from a gang? Why don’t you stick to your own methods? They’ve worked well so far. Rolling up in cars and shooting everything up. Can’t get more efficient and simple than that.”

“Watch your mouth, Tennessee. Show some respect if you don’t want that pretty face of yours smashed.”

“Try it if you can.”

Tennessee replied lightly. He knew the man didn’t have the guts. Though they looked nothing alike, being the nephew, he must have picked up some things from Carlito.

“I don’t take sketchy jobs.”

Wanting to hire a hitman despite having their own people meant it was probably a dirty job. If unlucky, one could get caught up in gang wars or internal fights. It wasn’t a big problem, but it was annoying and not worth it.

“And the car?”

The man gestured with his chin while spitting. Tennessee got into the driver’s seat after removing the cover from the car. As he felt every time, seeing Alejandro put him in a bad mood. Tennessee lit a cigarette.

Feeling the man’s gaze through the glass window, Tennessee genuinely wondered how he could be Carlito’s nephew.

Then again, seeing how a hitman came from a woman who was a drug addict but not a murderer, perhaps it wasn’t completely impossible.

Tennessee’s eyes lingered on Alejandro through the dirty window. He was genuinely, if slightly, regretful about Carlito’s death. Even more so because that idiot had filled his position. Alejandro’s expression, which had been suppressing displeasure throughout, completely lost its composure around then.

“I know you think you’re the hero of an epic tale, but take it easy. This is my last warning.”

Although it could have been avoided with skillful handling, today Tennessee simply wasn’t in the mood.

“Is that warning really the last one?”

Their eyes met. The invitation to try if he could was sincere. Gangs were mostly just rabble in the end. People who couldn’t properly hold a gun, hadn’t received proper training, and didn’t know how to end things with one shot. The epitome of inefficiency. They were people who rush in as a group, spray bullets everywhere, and drive away with loud music thinking ‘they must be dead by now.’ Tennessee openly sneered.

Despite Tennessee’s calm reaction, Alejandro ultimately couldn’t draw the gun tucked in his waistband.

That’s what I thought.

“You’re behaving yourself. See you next time.”

The half-smoked cigarette butt fell on Alejandro’s shoes.

After parking the car outside the building, Tennessee headed to where his previous car was parked. As he walked into a corner following the building’s edge across the street, he felt eyes on him. Tennessee turned around. Three Hispanic men were watching him from near a utility pole. Too obvious to be tailing him. He didn’t even make eye contact. But it was too quick to be because of what just happened with Alejandro.

Their eyes give me a bad feeling. Should I kill them?

After thinking briefly, Tennessee stared at the kid sitting motionless in the car. It wasn’t his imagination. Those men were staring intently at the kid.

“Open the door.”

The kid moves his hands quickly. He too had noticed the men’s gazes and glanced across the street at the men while staying close to Tennessee. The tension was obvious.

“What did those people do?”

“Nothing, they’ve just been staring at me for the past ten minutes.”

“I told you to keep your head down.” Tennessee cut off the kid’s attempt to protest and added, “You should have shot them.”

The kid, who had opened his mouth in shock, soon realized Tennessee was joking and snorted.

What could it be? After opening the back car door, Tennessee looked toward the utility pole. The men had already disappeared. They probably weren’t after him, so they must have been watching the kid. There were three of them, so if they met again, he could kill two and make one talk.

“Where are we going now?”

As soon as they changed cars, the child asked.

“We?” Tennessee’s eyes subtly furrowed. “Not us, just you. There’s a safe place to stay. You’ll stay there.”

The child closed his mouth. Tennessee tapped the steering wheel with his fingers. Somehow, the child’s expression he had just witnessed kept coming back to him.

The tension was evident. The child had been crouched down quietly, unable to breathe properly while gripping both arms tightly. Yet when he heard ‘open the door,’ he lowered the gun with a relieved face. Relief? Tennessee had never seen someone look relieved upon seeing his face. Usually, it was the opposite. Some resigned themselves to their fate, while others tried to run away in fear or fought back.

No one had ever exhaled in relief as if wrapped in a warm blanket while pointing a gun. But the child did. He immediately lowered both hands and carefully returned the gun while turning the barrel toward himself and offering the handle.

“There’s a TV, so you won’t be bored.”

Tennessee said as he parked the car in front of the house. It had been a while since he’d returned here. Perhaps that’s why it felt particularly unfamiliar. After stubbing out his cigarette, Tennessee turned on the lights. Despite having a TV, bed, and shower available, which should have made the child jump for joy, he just quietly sat down on the bed.

“Will you come back?”

Tennessee raised his head while double-checking the door lock. He had another cigarette in his mouth, one of countless ones that day.

“When will you come?”

The child changed his question, not wanting to appear weak. Tennessee, who had been giving an expressionless look, checked the time.

“I’m not sure…”

Tennessee put the gun down beside the child.

“Keep it if you’re scared.”

Tennessee held the child’s hands and taught him once more. Release it like this, yes, pull it like that, and aim. The child kept biting his lips throughout.

“Can’t I go with you? I’ll wait quietly in the car.”

The TV that had been left on was making noisy sounds. When Tennessee showed signs of he was getting irritated, the child shook his head.

“…Never mind.”

Tennessee opened the shade with his finger and looked outside. Recalling the men who had been watching the child particularly observantly, he carefully surveyed the surroundings.

It was an overt examination, but since there was no immediate threat, the child was left unsure of what to do. If they had approached, the child might have fired, but being watched from a distance left him at a loss for how to respond. Eleven years old, was it? No wonder he was scared. Whether it was fortunate or not, there was nothing around except the glow of the streetlights. But who knew what might be hiding in the corners where light didn’t reach.

A house located besides a pitch-black alley. A desolate space with nothing and no one. Occasional TV sounds, and a small gun placed nearby.

Tennessee had experienced something similar. The difference was that in his past, someone had been by his side. His drug-addicted mother had passed out, and the house was as silent as if someone had muted it with a remote. There was the distant sound of a dog howling, and also gunshots that sounded like firecrackers.

The young Tennessee had known the location of the gun his mother had secretly hidden all along.

Should I die?

He had thought about it dozens of times. Should I kill this woman and then kill myself? When his hand touched the metal, he realized how heavy and yet light the weight of a human life could be. A weight that even a child could lift with both hands. Perhaps because life was so light, his mother lived such an abandoned life.

Tennessee changed his mind.

“You have to listen well.”

Although it wasn’t a good place to take the child, he thought it might be better to bring him along. At Tennessee’s words, a spark of life flashed in the child’s eyes.

“Yes!”

“When I tell you what to do and when, you have to do exactly that.”

“Yes!”

“…Come out.”

The child hopped down. No matter how he looked at it, the child was too small for his age. Whether he wasn’t given food or had it taken away, he was frail. Although he had scared him, Tennessee thought nothing major would happen.

As soon as he entered with the child, people’s attention naturally turned to them. Strictly speaking, it wasn’t a gambling den or an adults-only bar or club, but it was a restaurant with a rather bad image.

Although they didn’t make waitresses wear rags like Hooters, the atmosphere was similar.

“Hello, little gentleman.”

A scantily clad waitress pinched the child’s cheek. The child, tense from Tennessee’s warning, looked around, unable to grasp the situation. His small face was full of confusion.

“Tennessee.”

Rick came out and greeted him as soon as he sat at the bar. While doing so, he questioned with his eyes about the child sitting next to Tennessee. Is it your kid? That was clearly what he was wondering. The child was focused, looking at the menu with a hardened expression.

“I’m not buying you anything. Don’t order.”

“I have a hundred dollars.”

Got me there. Tennessee still took away the menu the child had been looking at. Ah! The child reached out, but the weight difference between them was far and treacherous.

“I don’t plan on helping their sales, I’ll buy you something elsewhere, eat there.”

“What?! Why, Tennessee, you don’t like my food?”

When Rick protested, Tennessee reluctantly returned the menu. Thinking about it, Rick would probably listen to his request properly if he helped increase sales a bit. But Tennessee really hated this atmosphere.

“Uhm, I, I’ll order.”

The child raised one hand, then seemed to freeze, looking at Tennessee as if asking for permission to order. When he nodded in approval, the child said, “A cinnamon toast, please.”

“That’s a cocktail name.”

“…Oh.”

“It says so right here.”

Following Rick’s finger, the child furrowed. Looking closer, the word crunch was written after cinnamon toast. While the child lowered his head back to the menu, Rick didn’t hide his confusion.

‘Is it your kid?! I’m asking if it’s your kid! You look at least seventeen or eighteen, though?!’

Rick could be noisy with just his eyes. Tennessee ignored the intense and desperate cry. When the ignoring continued, Rick just asked out loud.

“Tennessee, is it your kid or what?”

His voice was loud enough for both the child ordering food and the nearby waitress to turn around. Then, Tennessee opened his mouth.

“How could he be my son?”

“You look quite alike.”

“Just the eyes a bit.”

As Rick evaluated with his arms crossed, the waitress joined in. Tennessee frowned.

“It’s a kid I ended up kidnapping somehow.”

Instead of taking it as a joke and asking ‘where did you kidnap him from?’ as expected, surprisingly, Rick stared at Tennessee with a completely blank expression. It was an appraising look.

“You’re not… no, right?”

Although he didn’t know what it meant, there seemed to be something to it. Thinking it wasn’t something to discuss in front of the child, Tennessee gestured to the room in the back. This place, though clearly a restaurant, had a small office. Tennessee tapped the bar table to get the child’s attention.

“I’m going to talk with Rick, so stay here and eat.”

“Yes.”

“Don’t make me say it twice.”

When Tennessee said that, Rick called a waitress and asked her to look after the child.

“Understood.”

Although the child’s expression had relaxed somewhat, perhaps due to being in a restaurant full of people or because of the joke, he tensed again.

***

He moved to follow Rick, leaving the child behind. As Tennessee sat in the offered chair, he rubbed his forehead. Rick pulled glasses from a drawer and filled them with alcohol.

“You’re not, right?”

“What?”

“You’re not, you couldn’t be.”

By this point, Tennessee was thoroughly sick of playing the twenty questions. Seeing Tennessee’s expression that suggested he would tear his mouth if he didn’t speak properly, Rick quickly continued.

“There’s been some business going on with Latin Emperador recently.”

Latin Emperador was the name of the gang that Alejandro belonged to, from whom Tennessee had just received the car and ID.

“They take any kids they find alone on the streets. It’s gotten to the point where people say the only normal kids are the ones who join the gang, and that has actually made the gang bigger. People with families to care for all want to join the Latin Emperador.”

Tennessee nodded, naturally recalling the stares of the men who had been watching the child intently. He had only felt it was strange but not threatening, probably because he was eyeing the child.

Crimes involving young children had existed for a long time. It was common for sex tapes featuring children to be imported. Even within the United States, children were often sold because of drugs.

However, in the United States, even possessing child pornography was punishable, and gangs had iron rules against using pedophilia for profit. Moreover, in U.S. prisons, those who committed sex crimes against children were at the bottom of the hierarchy. Being a punching bag for gang members would be lucky. They are often raped or become disabled out of extreme violence.

Still, it doesn’t make sense that a gang would sell children to make money. When Tennessee frowned, Rick shook his head. He meant that it wasn’t sex trafficking.

“It’s drug trafficking. They even put them inside corpses when they die. Border security with Mexico has strengthened, making it harder to bring in drugs.”

Then Rick lowered his voice and whispered quickly.

“So I hear they catch kids using the bait of helping them illegally immigrate from Mexico. Same with kids who’ve already entered illegally. Some people catch these kids in advance and sell them to Latin Emperador.”

It was unpleasant just hearing about it.

“You thought I was going to sell that kid? That’s ridiculous.”

“I told you because I thought you wouldn’t. You’ve got plenty of money anyway.”

“It’s insulting that you thought I’d live paying tribute to such a gang.”

Tennessee was disgusted by just that assumption, especially thinking he might have joined hands with Alejandro.

“…And are you selling the kid?”

“If I was starving to death, I might have to sell them. But given my profession, I might die normally but won’t starve to death.”

I know you don’t mean that, Tennessee.

When Tennessee took out a cigarette, Rick offered him marijuana. Tennessee refused and lit his cigarette. Rick burst into laughter and pointed at him without hesitation.

“You’re a funny guy. A hitman who’s picky about clients and doesn’t even do drugs.”

“You’re supposed to be picky about clients if you don’t want to get screwed.”

“You only try to kill bad guys. Says the murderer.”

Tennessee shrugged his shoulders. He took a deep drag of his cigarette and let out a sigh that sounded like a lament.

He doesn’t talk much. Rick thought as he looked at Tennessee, who was sparing with his words. During the time it took to smoke one cigarette, Tennessee hadn’t said a word. Even though he surely had something to retort with, Tennessee remained silent. Unable to hold back any longer, Rick spoke first.

“What brings you to Texas?”

A second cigarette found its way between Tennessee’s lips.

“Even though your work knows no borders, there’s no need to come all the way to the South, right?”

“Heard my client lives in Texas.”

As Rick nodded, Tennessee added.

“Look into my broker for me.”

Tennessee explained the sharp intuition he had felt right after finishing the job.

“Are you saying your broker set you up? Isn’t that just speculation?”

Even Tennessee himself thought he might be reading too deeply into it. This business was wide yet narrow, deep yet shallow. Once word gets out about a bought broker, jobs dry up immediately.

Either way, there are plenty of people in this world who say, ‘I’ll pay you to kill that person.’ There’s no need to take jobs from someone who leaves a bitter aftertaste.

“Look into the target and client too.”

“Who were they?”

Tennessee concisely shared the man’s background information.

“Got it.”

As the conversation seemed to end and Tennessee was about to get up, Rick held him back.

“So what’s your relationship with that kid?”

Instead of answering Rick’s curiosity, Tennessee appeared lost in thought.

“I heard Latin Emperador has been taking children lately?”

“Mostly runaways. Mostly kids living on the streets with no connections, illegal immigrants, that sort of thing. They say sometimes they even take normal kids with parents. Though that’s probably just a malicious rumor.”

“How widespread are these rumors?”

“All the kids on the street already know about it. I heard youth shelters in all major Texas cities are completely full.”

Then Texas won’t work, Tennessee changed his mind about parting with the child in Texas. He couldn’t keep the child forever. The child probably wouldn’t go to the police saying he was kidnapped, so if things wrapped up well, he could take him wherever he wanted to go.

But with such unsettling things happening right now, Texas wouldn’t work. Or it might be good to take him to another state entirely outside the South. The South was conservative enough to still have the death penalty. Tennessee imagined the child being adopted into a conservative Catholic family.

The child having to go to mass every weekend. He had a weary smile, and Rick widened his eyes at the sight.

When Rick and Tennessee came out of the office, the child had already eaten more than half of his hamburger. Two waitresses were hovering closely by the child’s side. They were making quite a fuss, stroking the child’s black hair because they found him cute.

Behind them, Rick let out a dry laugh.

“What’s your name?”

“…I was told not to talk to strangers.”

“Oh really? How old are you?”

“…”

The waitresses continued making light conversation, finding the child cute. Though it was just playful teasing because they found him adorable, the child frowned and put down the hamburger he was about to eat, clearly upset about something.

“Your drink is empty, I’ll get you another one.”

The child stared helplessly at the waitress taking away the glass that still had a little left. Then, upon spotting Tennessee approaching, his face lit up as if a switch had been flipped.

“Here, Tennessee’s order came too.”

Tennessee accepted the food without declining. The greasy Southern food wasn’t to his taste. While Tennessee wasn’t particularly picky about taste and ingredients, Southern food tended to be unusually sweet, salty, and greasy. From serving sweet tea instead of regular drinks to that drunken-like accent, it was all like that.

No, actually Tennessee didn’t particularly dislike the South. The accent was fine too. Perhaps it was because the first person Tennessee knew with a Southern accent was always drunk.

‘Go get me a beer.’

When his mother, suffering from severe depression and heroin addiction, would lie in bed, his father, who would bring prostitutes to do it in the living room, would often give Tennessee errands.

It’s quite sad that although we live each new day, we can’t be free from the old past.

“Tennessee.”

The child moved closer to Tennessee as he put out his cigarette. He seemed to have lots of questions.

“Is Tennessee really your name because you were born in Tennessee?”

“Good question, kiddo. I’ve always wondered about that too.”

Rick cut in. He pushed a cocktail toward Tennessee. Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Rick said playfully. Recognizing he was being teased, the child wrinkled his nose.

“I was born in Tennessee but grew up elsewhere.”

“The exact opposite of Elvis Presley then.”

Rick kept cutting in. The child, whose appetite had returned since Tennessee came, took a big bite of his hamburger.

“Elvis Presley was born in the next town over but grew up in Tennessee.”

“What’s the point of teaching me that?”

Tennessee reprimanded and shook his head as to not listen.

“You talk a lot.”

“Maybe you’re just the quiet one, Tennessee.”

“Are you two friends?”

The child asked as soon as Rick finished speaking.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Different answers came simultaneously. Tennessee stood up, leaving his food unfinished. He hadn’t come here to act friendly with Rick. He had no intention of sitting beside him to share recent news or chitchat about football team rankings.

Though the child looked like he wanted to eat more of his hamburger, he got down from his chair as soon as Tennessee stood up.

“I’ll pay you the usual way.”

Knowing this was Tennessee’s way of saying goodbye, Rick waved. He didn’t forget to keep talking to the child until the end.

See ya, kiddo. Oh, what’s your name? We never properly introduced ourselves. I’m Rick.

A clear ‘Warning: Stranger’ sign appeared over the child’s expression. With a face painted with wariness, he stepped back without answering.

“Tennessee doesn’t talk about himself but he answered when you asked. You could be an FBI agent, kiddo.”

“Let’s go.”

Tennessee cut off Rick’s words with a gesture of his chin. The child, who had been following closely behind him, hesitated and turned back toward Rick. Rick was waving with a playful smile. The child, his cheeks slightly flushed, quickly raised and lowered his hand. It was such a quick greeting that one might have missed it.

“Cute.”

Unaware that Rick was laughing, the child followed behind Tennessee with quick steps.

***

“So where did you grow up, Tennessee?”

The child asked while getting into the parked car.

“Various places.”

“Why did you move around so much?”

“Because I was adopted and returned multiple times.”

“Is Tennessee your real name?”

“No.”

The child got excited when he unexpectedly gave proper answers. His shoulders were already bouncing with excitement.

“Then what’s your real name? How old are you? Why did you come to Texas?”

“Enough. You’re noisy.”

He cut him off sharply. The child dropped his shoulders dejectedly in the back seat. Still, he didn’t forget to fasten his seatbelt when Tennessee started the car. In the departing car, the child looked down at his half-untied shoes. What a shame. If he had asked little by little, it seemed like he would have answered everything. It was disappointing.

It was just a few questions, but maybe because of Rick’s words about getting special treatment, his heart had swelled. At the same time, he felt hurt and disappointed. He was curious. He wished he would tell him more. He even felt an exaggerated regret as if he had blown a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

Even while knowing he shouldn’t trust adults, he found himself responding to Tennessee’s moods as if he was a dog with him as his owner. I shouldn’t completely let my guard down. Though the child reminded himself, his gaze inevitably turned toward Tennessee.

“When do we leave tomorrow? Just tell me that.”

“0600.”

He must really be a soldier. He says the time weirdly.

“…Six o’clock.”

Tennessee added after seeing the child’s blank expression in the rearview mirror. Finding it funny that he explained it again, the child quietly giggled to himself until the car stopped.

“Wake up.”

It was a small command, but the child’s eyes flew open. He had been in light sleep. Complaining would be a luxury. The child immediately got down from the bed and put on his shoes. Though he couldn’t even properly balance himself having just woken up, he tied his shoelaces as his body swayed.

The child looked up at Tennessee. He was already fully dressed. Though he had said they didn’t need much luggage and could just go with their bodies, Tennessee was too prepared. He was sitting and smoking now, but it seemed like if he wasn’t completely ready within five minutes, he would leave without looking back.

“Just a moment, I’m almost done.”

“Wash your face first.”

Tennessee gestured toward the bathroom as the child spoke while getting dressed. The child hurriedly ran to the bathroom. Showing the eccentric behavior of washing his face and brushing their teeth almost simultaneously, the child deliberately left the bathroom door open. He planned to rush out if he heard the sound of Tennessee opening the door and leaving. While moving quickly, the child’s attention was completely focused on Tennessee in the living room.

Just as he was about to spit out a mouthful of foam, he heard the front door open, presumably because Tennessee had finished his cigarette. It felt like being suddenly dunked in a cold lake in midwinter. With trembling hands from urgency, the child shoved his toiletries away and rushed out.

“J-just a moment!”

Seeing Tennessee already in the driver’s seat fastening his seatbelt, the child hurriedly opened the back seat door. After fastening his seatbelt and putting down his toiletries, the child finally let out a sigh of relief.

But the car was quiet. He hadn’t started the engine. Tennessee’s gaze fell on the puzzled child. While there hadn’t been many chances to make eye contact in the first place, the child had questions every time he met Tennessee’s eyes because he couldn’t predict any of the emotions behind them.

The child had always thought his intuition was quite sharp. When meeting someone for the first time, if the base of his spine tightened and his toes tingled, those people were very likely not good people. It had been the same with Mr. Hurston and others.

But he couldn’t get a read on this person called Tennessee. He couldn’t understand him at all. He seemed like he would shoot without hesitation, but he didn’t carelessly point his gun. As if he only used it when absolutely necessary, he barely even took out his gun in the first place. From skillfully stealing cars to various other things, he smelled like a dangerous person, but seeing how well he treated him made him feel like he could lie down and throw a tantrum if he wanted to.

After maintaining eye contact for a while with eyes whose depths couldn’t be fathomed, Tennessee got out of the driver’s seat.

You won’t tell me to get out, right? With a nervous feeling, he tightly gripped the seatbelt anxiously. Tennessee opened the back door.

“Get out.”

“…Eh?”

“I said get out.”

It can’t be. Surely not, right? But he did tell me yesterday that we’d leave at 6. Wasn’t that meant to tell me to get ready so we could leave together? Is it because I couldn’t wake up right away? Or is it because of the house?

In that brief moment, the child’s mind raced, and Tennessee looked down at the small head that revealed tension and anxiety. Throwing away his cigarette butt, Tennessee pointed at the house.

“You still have toothpaste foam on your mouth. Go wash up.”

“…Oh.”

The child, with reddened cheeks, quickly went into the house like a squirrel. Seeing how embarrassed he looked slipping inside, Tennessee let out a small laugh.

When the child came out again, not only was the foam gone from his mouth, but his fragile demeanor had also disappeared. The anxious appearance of someone who had become dependent and swayed by others didn’t suit him. Tennessee felt complicated emotions. After watching the child get in the car, Tennessee locked the house door. It was a place they didn’t know when they’d return to.

“What do you want to eat?”

Tennessee asked softly as he started driving. He had visited many restaurants during this time. For dinner, they ate at diners, steakhouses, or famous franchise restaurants, and for breakfast, usually at pancake houses or small eateries on the outskirts.

The child was confused about whether Tennessee had a lot of money or just lacked financial sense. He didn’t skimp on money at all. He would only eat one portion himself but order two kids’ meals, or push all the appetizers and desserts towards the child. Yesterday, they even left Rick’s place and went to another restaurant.

When asked ‘Are you hungry?’, he’d say ‘You didn’t finish eating’ and order new food. When the child said it was a waste to leave food, he’d have it packed up. The growing child did end up eating it all before bed though.

He seems unkind yet kind. Hehe… No, even if he’s kind, he’s definitely a bad person. While the child’s self was conflicted and divided, Tennessee silently turned the car towards McDonald’s.

It was early evening when they nearly reached Austin. The downtown lights shone like Christmas decorations. The roads were full of cars, the sidewalks full of people.

“Wake up.”

Tennessee woke the child who had been nodding off since lunch. After calling once more, the child opened his eyes groggily. That’s when it happened. A siren sound came from behind. It was a police car.

The child’s eyes flew open and he hurriedly looked back. Tennessee, with his usual expressionless face, pulled over to the side. The child’s eyes were tinted red and blue from the police car’s lights.

“Why are you scared?”

Tennessee smirked at the tense child, and the child felt a surge of emotion but then relaxed.

“Good afternoon, officer.”

“Good afternoon.”

As the window opened, a middle-aged police officer approached and looked inside. The child, not knowing what to do, awkwardly greeted him.

“Was I driving over the speed limit?”

“A little fast. You shouldn’t do that with a child in the car.”

“I’m sorry.”

Usually in these cases, he would ask for vehicle registration. But perhaps because of the child, he ended the situation with just a verbal warning. However, he didn’t stop his meddling.

“The child isn’t sitting in a booster seat?”

“Officer.”

Tennessee smiled gently.

“Despite appearances, he’s eleven years old. A bit too mature for that, don’t you think?”

Seeing the child’s expression that said ‘Booster seat? Are you kidding? I’m eleven,’ the police officer nodded a few times and stepped back.

“Still, thank you for the advice.”

“Not at all, have a good day.”

Tennessee bid farewell with a light smile and started the car.

“Phew.”

The child, who wasn’t even the kidnapper but the kidnapped, exhaled as if he’d aged ten years. Though it was a brief encounter, it was clear he felt his blood had completely dried up. Tennessee found this reaction absurd again. It wasn’t Stockholm syndrome, and in this situation, he should have clung to the police saying, “This person kidnapped me, I don’t even know where I am.”

I should give him a carrot now, I guess. While Tennessee was thinking this, the child was looking out the window. Though they hadn’t been together for even a week, it was a tone the child had never heard from Tennessee before. So he can speak like that.

Unlike usual, it was a soft and somehow… normal voice. The child rested his chin on his hand. Then suddenly, he had a thought. No matter how gentle the tone or how normally he spoke, he would know. He could see the emptiness wrapped in that ordinary voice.