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“God fucking dammit, Kim Taehyung.” Yoonji says, breathing hard as she props Taehyung up against the wall. “Why the fuck would you do that? Do you have a death wish?” She takes the cardigan of her school uniform off and presses it against the wound on Taehyung’s side. He winces and grunts, but doesn’t yelp in pain like Yoonji expects him to as she ties the sleeves around his waist to temporarily stop the bleeding. “I thought you were the smartest kid in our grade, but what the fuck was that?”
“Stop.” He says, holding Yoonji’s bloody hands in his. He was glad that it wasn’t hers, and he tries not to think of the sickening feeling he gets when he realizes that it’s from the gaping wound on his body. Although he’s sure seeing the girl he likes shooting holes in people’s heads for a living was something that he didn’t want to see again, he’s glad that she’s safe—and even more glad that she, at least, wasn’t on the side of the ‘bad guys’ (or at least, that’s what she said—and that’s what he believed in). Her hands are trembling and even when she’s glaring at him like she’s going to scold him some more, he could see the fear in her shaking eyes. It’s a foreign look on her face—one that Taehyung’s seeing for the first time, and he doesn’t know why Yoonji seems afraid now of all times, when she’s told him that he didn’t need to worry about her since she’s been on the field for a long time now.
She’s young; still so, so young (even when she always insists that Taehyung should call her noona since she’s older than him by more than nine months), and Taehyung bites back his words because now’s not the time to wonder about how it would have been like if Yoonji was just some normal girl and not a daughter born in a family of assassins. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not.” She hisses, before drawing in a shaky breath. “God, you’re so fucking stupid. Why would you take that bullet? I’ve already told you: I can handle anything.” Taehyung believed her, of course: Yoonji was the bravest person he’s ever met, and even though he always has a resting bitch face on, he knows that she’s nice.
He squeezes his eyes shut as his vision begins to blur. His side hurts a lot and he feels like he’s being burnt. He gives her hand a firm squeeze, trying to be reassuring. Her hands have always been cold, but he knows just how much warmth she has in her heart. “Yoonji, I know you’re strong, and I know you’ve been doing this for a long time, but you’re not invincible.” He licks his dry lips, feeling his throat dry up with the look she gives him.
He hadn’t meant to be there when the confrontation happened. Looking back, he should probably have noticed that Yoonji had already been hinting at it then, telling him to not wait up for her like he always does after class eve if they end up going their separate ways after he sees her off to the bus stop. And Taehyung should have foreseen it in the tense coil of her muscles underneath her skin when their homeroom teacher had introduced the new assistant teacher.
But he remembered that he still hadn’t repaid her for that one time he forgot to bring his lunch box with him and she’d bought him ramyun and triangle kimbap from the convenience store nearby, and he ran back to the classroom to ask her to go eat ice cream with him when the first bullet whizzes past his ear.
There was a time once, when they were sitting side-by-side in the classroom, eating their packed lunches together, when Yoonji had looked up from her food and stared at Taehyung chewing on his food quickly as if he hadn’t eaten in days. He thought she was going to call him out for eating so quickly (really, it wouldn’t be the first time), but then there’s a different look in her eyes, and he knows she’s thinking about something that didn’t have to do with the food right in front of her.
“Hey, Taehyung.” She said, voice low and soft and barely audible over the noises of their classmates’ voices that Taehyung almost didn’t hear it, but he glanced up just in time to meet her gaze. “What if I told you that I was an assassin?”
He laughed and shook his head. “That would be cool.”
She frowned and kicked his leg under the table in response. “I’m being serious.”
“Then ask me a serious question?” Yoonji stood up then, the legs of her chair scraping against the floor, and in that moment, Taehyung thinks she looks older than he remembers.
He reaches out to catch her wrist, and she glares at him in warning, as if to say, “I’m going to cut your hand if you don’t let go of me,” but he doesn’t let go. “I was serious too, though. I think it’s cool. But I guess if you started killing people without reason, then it’s not.” Yoonji had grunted at him in response, but there was a small smile playing on her lips.
So that time then, after the momentary shock had registered on the perpetrator’s face and Taehyung saw that he had no intention of missing his target again and seeing to it that Taehyung just had to go, moving instinctively to drag Yoonji away from the man’s line of sight was something he’d do even when he knew the truth about Yoonji’s family. Although he’d already thought of a scenario like this ever since that day when he confessed and said that he liked her more than just as a friend, and she’d told him the truth, still, the bullet lodging itself to his side hurts a lot.
Yoonji had dragged him out of the scene then to hide in an empty classroom, but not before shooting the man. He doesn’t know where she’s hit him, but he knows that he’s still not dead.
Tears start welling in Yoonji’s eyes, and even when there’s a literal bullet lodged in his side, Taehyung feels even more pained seeing her like this.
“You fucking idiot,” she says, hurriedly wiping away her tears as if he won’t get to see them if she wiped at them fast enough.
There wasn’t much time before the assailant finds them and starts finding them again, Taehyung knows this, but he ignores the stinging pain at his side for a while and holds Yoonji’s face in his hands, thumbs lightly grazing along her tear-stained cheeks.
He leans in closer—close enough to feel her breath ghosting against his lips but with still enough space between the two of them so she could pull away.
But she doesn’t, and Taehyung closes the distance between their lips, sealing it with a light, feathery kiss. Yoonji kisses him back—hesitantly at first, but her lips are soft against Taehyung’s chapped ones. When she pulls away, there’s a new look of resolve in her eyes.
“I have to go. I still have something I need to finish.” She says, and she picks up the gun she placed on the floor beside her. There’s also a small knife that she retrieves from the side of her leg, hidden well by her long socks.
“Stay alive, okay?” Taehyung says, and the confident smirk Yoonji throws him over her shoulder is something that he’d always remember.
“Of course. How can we actually start making out if I’m not?” Taehyung splutters, but she’s already gone before he could give back a retort.