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Yoongi was no stranger to death. He was death, in a way; a bladed stranger in the night. Death was his job.
And death paid well.
When Yoongi received a phone call from a mysterious person offering 100 million won, he couldn't pass up the opportunity.
"What do you need me to do?"
"I have someone I need you to kill." The voice said, static clouding the words.
"Who?" Yoongi was all business. This transaction wasn't anything unusual.
"A man named Park Jimin."
The name made Yoongi pause, holding his phone gingerly in his hand.
Park Jimin?
But for 100 million won...
"I'll do it."
"Good. Call me at this number once it is done."
The phone clicked.
...
Yoongi was a hunter.
He packed his knives against his waist and headed out to the last known location of Park Jimin, assassin. The streets were dark at this time, and he blended into the shadows.
Park Jimin was a hard man to find. Yoongi had searched all his hideouts, finally calling upon and old friend of his with illegal access to a satellite.
"I think I found your guy," Namjoon had said, "but this doesn't feel right to me."
"Don't worry about it," Yoongi assured him. "It's nothing I can't handle."
The address Namjoon had supplied him with led him to a rundown factory on the edge of the city, a cement building surrounded by debris and wires. There was no sound, save for the sound of the city nightlife muffled in the distance.
Yoongi crept inside an open window, sliding behind a stack of cement tubes. He couldn't see much except concrete. Shafts of moonlight filtered through high windows, illuminating the floor. He slid out from his hiding spot, avoiding the light. He softly walked up a set of stairs to the second floor, a balcony that wrapped around the entire room.
There was a mattress on the floor, a figure resting on it beneath a blanket. He padded forward, his knife in his hand, and reached out.
Something is off here, he thought.
The thought came not a moment too soon and Yoongi whirled around, just as something sliced past his ear. He twisted backwards, bringing his hand forward to balance himself. Something wrapped around his hand and he cried out, falling forward.
He had been caught off guard.
A figure in black appeared in the doorway, a length of wire in his hand. Yoongi lunged sideways, hurling a knife at his head. It embedded itself in the wood of the door frame.
It was a purposeful miss. A warning.
"Yoongi," Park Jimin said, a slow smile creeping across his face. "How nice to see you."
"I'm here to kill you," Yoongi said, chest heaving. The length of wire wrapped around his hand was the same one Jimin was holding. His eyes darted across Jimin's black clad figure, lithe and deadly.
"Well, you're doing a miserable job of it." Jimin said, pulling him forward. He flicked his wrist and the wire uncurled, slicing through the air.
"What in the hell is that?" Yoongi said, quietly palming one of his knives.
"Just a little something I made," Jimin said, the wire slithering over the concrete. "It's called a garrote."
"It's interesting." Yoongi admitted, silently tensing his muscles, preparing to lunge forward.
"Don't even think about it." Jimin's voice was like a bullet, sudden and jarring. His eyes slid over Yoongi and he smirked. The action was not unlike that of a snake. "I saw that."
Yoongi cursed himself. He was better than this. How could he put himself in such a position?
"You know what's interesting? You're here to kill me, but I'm going to kill you." He laughed. "Funny how things work out, isn't it?"
He twisted his wrist and the wire lashed out, making an arc across the room. Yoongi bent backwards and threw his dagger, lunging towards Jimin. His knives were in his hands faster than the blink of an eye. Jimin jumped backward, hurling himself over the balcony onto the first floor.
"Come get me, Yoongi!" Jimin said, his voice high and lilting. It was a joking voice, a mocking voice.
Yoongi gritted his teeth and jumped down the stairs, taking them as fast as he could. Jimin swung past him, all metal and shadow, knocking him backward. He swung upward with his feet but Jimin leaped back gracefully, almost appearing to float in midair. Jimin brought the garrote forward and it brushed the top of his head.
"You're still an asshole." Yoongi yelled, parrying a blow to the head with his elbow. He brought his knee up into Jimin's stomach, eliciting a soft cry of alarm.
"I could say the same about you," Jimin said, panting slightly. He kicked out and Yoongi slid backwards. Without warning Jimin was straddling his waist, the garrote pressed to his neck.
"Get off me," Yoongi growled, slashing at Jimin's stomach.
"Funny," Jimin said, dancing back. "That's not what you said the last time we had sex."
Yoongi narrowed his eyes and Jimin swung the wire. He caught the end and flicked it towards himself, dragging Jimin off balance. Jimin yelped before lifting his legs and wrapping them around his waist, slamming him sideways onto the ground.
Yoongi's head cracked against the concrete and his vision swam in and out of focus. He moaned softly, clutching for his knife on the floor beside him.
"Haven't heard you moan like that for a while," Jimin said, kneeling beside him, the garrote wrapped around his wrist.
The world closed in on him, and everything turned black.
...
"Hand me that, will you?" Yoongi gestured to a steel knife lying on the table, its edge glinting in the light. Jimin handed it to him, their fingertips brushing. Yoongi polished it, rubbing the edges with a cloth. Jimin wrapped his arms around Yoongi's waist, murmuring softly into his skin. The afternoon sun painted a haze over the moment, and Yoongi watched Jimin fade out of focus.
The scene changed and now he was watching Jimin, who was doing an elegant set of somersaults across the room. He flipped and grabbed Yoongi, pinning him to the floor.
"Impressive," Yoongi said slyly. Jimin grinned.
"I can do more than that." He murmured into Yoongi's ear.
When Yoongi woke up he was alone, the floor cold and hard against his skin.
This would not happen again.
...
Yoongi was methodical. He planned. He waited.
He left his apartment and adopted a moving lifestyle, sleeping in his car and in cheap motels. He dyed his hair. He sharpened his daggers.
And he waited. And waited.
He called Namjoon.
"Are you sure? I mean, you're just gonna wait for him?"
Like a sitting duck.
"Don't worry. I'll be fine." Yoongi assured him.
"That's what you said last time, and he kicked your ass."
Yoongi gritted his teeth at the memory of being caught by surprise. It wouldn't happen again.
"Do it, Namjoon. I want him to find me."
"Just...be careful."
Yoongi hung up.
...
The next stage of his plan involved set up, and more waiting. He had asked Namjoon to set out subtle pings of his location: photos, CCTV footage. He knew Jimin was looking.
He still wondered why Jimin hadn't killed him that night in the factory. It didn't matter now.
All he had to do was wait.
...
Yoongi set up in a small motel in a far away city, a place that asked no questions and kept all secrets. It was a place of drugs and violence, alcohol and darkness.
It was perfect.
The night Jimin arrived Yoongi was waiting in his room, absently flicking a lighter on and off. the room was dark, the only glow coming from the television, muted in the background. His door opened, flooding the room with light.
The lighter went out. Yoongi looked up.
"I found you," Jimin whispered, smirking. He stepped towards Yoongi but his foot caught on the length of wire he had strung across the floor. Jimin stepped back raising his foot in alarm.
"Wha-"Jimin said in surprise. He didn't get to finish the thought as the wire retracted from the wall, wrapping around his ankle and pulling him to the ground. Jimin raised his hand to free himself and hit another trap wire, this one curling around his wrist. He hit the floor with a thud, one arm raised awkwardly above him.
"Looks like I learned a few things from you," Yoongi said, standing. He strode over to Jimin, looking down on his snarling face. "Do you like it?"
Jimin pulled at his wrist and cried out in pain as the metal dug into his skin. He looked at Yoongi, murder in his eyes.
"Good thing I learned a few things from you, too."
Jimin arched his back and pulled his foot upward, slicing through the wire with a dagger Yoongi hadn't seen before. He made quick work of the wire around his wrist and set his sights on Yoongi.
Yoongi was calm. He was waiting.
Jimin charged him and he stepped to the side, knocking him in the back with his elbow. Jimin crumpled under the blow but swung his garrote upwards, the metal slicing through his cheek. Yoongi grimaced, flipping his dagger towards him, but his body seemed to curve around it. He came at Yoongi, pushing him against the wall with garrote against his neck.
"Why do you want to kill me so bad, Yoongi?" Jimin said through clenched teeth. "How much are you going to get paid for my death?"
"Does it matter?" Yoongi countered. "You'd kill me for no money, no reason at all."
Wait for it...
"I used to idolize you! I loved you!" Jimin shouted, pressing the garrote closer to Yoongi's throat.
Wait for it...
Yoongi's knife seemed to fly into his hand and Jimin's eyes widened in surprise. The blade sliced upward, cutting the garrote wire in half.
Jimin stumbled backward from the sudden loss of tension and Yoongi lunged, pushing him backwards onto the bed. He climbed over him, pushing the knife against his throat, one hand pinning his wrist.
"Why did you leave me alive, Jimin? Why did you come looking for me?"
"With you," Jimin panted. "It's kill or be killed."
Yoongi shifted his weight, pressing him to the mattress. When he looked in Jimin's eyes he saw fear, real fear, all his cockiness wasted. He could feel Jimin underneath him, all lean muscle and soft skin, breathing heavily.
"I didn't want to die," Jimin choked out, voice trembling. "I didn't want to kill you but... I didn't want to die."
How did it come to this? This small moment in time, this fracture at the reunion of their two worlds, where did it come from? They used to be something, something more.
How did they fall apart?
Could money buy back the time, the weakened bond between them?
Yoongi cocked his head, considering Jimin's pale face, stark against his black shirt. The knife in Yoongi's hand glinted a reflection of his own face, alien in the dark.
Yoongi had always been a killer. He had been born into it, raised into it. He had never looked back.
But now...
There was something between them, an undercurrent, something Yoongi couldn't explain or place. It thrummed in Yoongi's skin, in Jimin's heartbeat.
Yoongi breathed out and dropped the knife, letting it fall on the sheets.
Yoongi wasn't sure when the moment shifted, wasn't quite sure when the tension between them snapped with all the force of a bolt of lightning.
Jimin reached forward with his other hand, gently tracing the cut on Yoongi's cheek. He pressed his lips to his, softly at first.
Everything happened so suddenly-he was pulling Jimin closer, his hands wrapped around his waist. His hands in his hair, running down his back. Jimin arching upwards into Yoongi, their skin touching where his shirt had pulled up. Yoongi groaned quietly against Jimin's mouth as he traced his hands up his ribs, tugging his shirt upwards. There was familiarity in the movements; in the curve of Jimin's hip beneath his palm, the soft breaths dusting his skin, the way he buried his lips into his throat. Everything about the action was hungry, greedy, violent; they tore each other apart and put themselves together again.
The world collapsed and collided and reformed, and they were two moons revolving around each other in the night.
...
When Yoongi woke he was greeted by the sight of Jimin sleeping peacefully next to him, his face calm under the morning sun. Yoongi allowed himself a small smile before slowly drawing him closer, wrapping his arms around his waist. Jimin sleepily opened his eyes. The sun curved across Jimin's bare torso as he sat up, rubbing his face. Yoongi looked at him fondly.
"I missed this," he said softly. "I missed you."
Jimin toyed with the silver chain hanging around his neck. The silence between them was thoughtful.
"A hundred million won." Yoongi finally said. Jimin frowned.
"What?" He asked, confused.
"That's how much someone offered me to kill you." Yoongi said, looking at him. Something hard slid behind Jimin's eyes and he scowled, turning away.
"Do you know who it was?" Jimin asked, clutching the bed sheets in his hands so hard his knuckles turned white. Yoongi shook his head. Jimin stared at the wall, eyes narrowed.
"Guess we'll just have to find out."
...
Yoongi picked up his phone, dialing a strange number.
"Is it done?" The voice asked, foregoing any pleasantries. The static clouded the signal.
"Yes," Yoongi lied. "Where can I collect my payment?"
"There will be someone under the King Sejong Statue in Seoul. Meet him at midnight tonight, or I will keep the money."
Yoongi didn't like that. It was a weird thing for someone to say, especially someone who had hired an assassin.
"I'll do that," Yoongi said. He hung up.
Jimin stretched lazily, but his eyes burned.
"Guess we're going to Seoul."
Yoongi dialed a more familiar number.
"Namjoon?"
"Oh thank god you aren't dead," Namjoon replied. "What's up?"
"I need a favor."
Namjoon sighed. "I'm gonna have to start charging you for all these favors."
"I need you to run surveillance on the King Sejong Statue."
"The one in Seoul?"
"I'm pretty sure there's only one."
Namjoon grumbled from the other end of the line. "Okay. I'll send the live footage to your laptop. Are you still using the one I gave you?"
"Yes," Yoongi replied. "But I took out the webcam."
"I know," Namjoon said. "I haven't been able to spy on you."
Yoongi laughed. "Thanks, man."
"No problem."
He hung up.
Jimin opened Yoongi's laptop, making quick work of the password Yoongi had set up. He looked at him.
"You haven't changed your password in years." Jimin said.
"I don't keep sensitive information on it," Yoongi said. "The most dangerous thing on that laptop is my mixtape."
Yoongi packed his things into a duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder. He picked up one of his knives, tucking it into his waistband. "Let's go."
The car ride was a long one. They stopped several times to pick up food and important items, one of these being a long spool of metal wire.
"You broke my garrote," Jimin said in the checkout line. Yoongi rolled his eyes.
They arrived in Seoul at about 8:00 in the evening, and Yoongi checked into a cheap hotel. Jimin sat on the bed, checking the surveillance feed.
"There are still quite a few people there." Jimin said. "We should head out."
They waited on the rooftop of a nearby building, Jimin peering through a pair of binoculars at the statue below. Yoongi perched on the ledge, the wind ruffling his hair. He held a dagger in his hand, absentmindedly turning it between his fingers.
"I think I see something," Jimin said quietly. He handed the binoculars to Yoongi, who furrowed his brows. There was a single man standing on the street below, a hooded cloak and a mask hiding his features. Yoongi stood and looked at his watch. It was 11:50 pm.
"I'm heading down there," He said, sliding the knife into his sleeve. "Keep watch."
Yoongi climbed down the fire escape before landing on the street below, rounding a corner to face the masked man, who was several feet away.
"Do you have my payment?" He asked. The hooded man procured a briefcase from under his robe, placing it on the ground. He made no other move.
Yoongi stared at it, his eyes flicking upward to the hooded man. He tilted his head.
"Do you want me to come get it?" Yoongi asked, his voice low. The hooded man said nothing.
Yoongi stepped forward, and the hooded man stepped back. He took a few more tentative steps, and for each one the hooded man moved back. When Yoongi reached the briefcase he kneeled, running a hand over the leather surface. Something felt off about this entire ordeal, and his intuition had never been wrong before. He looked at the hooded man, then turned around.
He was surrounded.
There were four more hooded figures, each with black robes and jeweled masks.
Yoongi looked down at the briefcase, then up at the figure in front of him.
"You never intended to pay me."
"No, I didn't."
Yoongi whipped around, coming face to face with a middle aged man, his gray hair betraying his age. He tensed, brushing his hand across the handle of his blade.
The man came closer. "You see, I've been trying to kill Park Jimin for a very long time. None of my own agents have been able to get close to him. But you-you were able to do what I couldn't."
Yoongi took a measured step backwards, and the man raised his hand. Each of the hooded figures raised long blades, effectively blocking him from escaping.
"So that was your plan, huh? I kill Jimin, you kill me." Yoongi's voice carried across the night air.
"I'm sorry, but I can't leave any...evidence...behind. I'm sure you understand."
"Oh yeah," Yoongi said, his voice a low growl in his throat. "I understand completely."
The man grabbed the briefcase and backed away from him, leaving the ring of swords. He didn't look back.
"Finish him off." The order carried weight. He vanished into the night.
The hooded men raised their long blades. Each was slightly curved, thin and sharp.
Yoongi's first throw went wide, striking the edge of one of the black cloaks. The knife seemed to pass through the figure and it lunged at Yoongi, its sword raised high. Yoongi spun, twisting the knife upward. It missed by only a hair.
Yoongi was a skilled fighter. But four on one? Not necessarily odds he liked.
He slid under one blow, slicing at a figure's feet. His knife caught in the black robe, tearing it. A sword came bearing down towards his chest and he caught it on reflex, the metal biting into his palm. He hissed in pain before shoving it upwards and kicking the figure in the chest. It stumbled backwards.
This is bullshit, Yoongi thought, his hand bleeding onto the pavement. He threw another knife, this one embedding itself into a mask, the white ceramic cracking at the blow.
One down. Three to go.
Yoong spun, knife in hand, cracking his elbow against the forehead of another figure. It grabbed him, pulling him down onto the ground. He shook loose its grip but turned to see another, its blade slicing down towards him. He raised his hands over his face, scrambling backwards. Suddenly it was pulled back, blood spurting from its neck.
Jimin stood behind it, his garrote bloody.
"Hope I didn't miss out on the fun." He said, his smile lethal. He flipped over, grabbing another hooded figure by its neck and slamming its face onto the ground. The mask cracked, and blood oozed out from behind it.
"The only thing you missed was me getting my ass beat." Yoongi said, his dagger bloody in his head. He flung it and it disappeared in the folds of the last figure's robes. It keeled over, blood pooling around it on the pavement.
Yoongi winced at his stinging palm, pressing it against his shirt to staunch the blood. Jimin frowned at the wound.
"Are you okay?" He asked, concern tinging his voice. Yoongi nodded.
"Don't worry about it." Yoongi said. "Let's catch that bastard."
Jimin turned to him, wrapping the wire around his wrist like a bracelet. "I know where we need to go."
...
The man with the gray hair walked into his penthouse suite, setting the briefcase on the glass coffee table. He loosened his tie, walking into the bedroom.
To his surprise, there was already someone there.
"Hello, Mr. Park," Min Yoongi said, lounging on his bed.
The man took an unconscious step backwards. "You survived."
"Unfortunately," Yoongi said, twirling his dagger in his hand.
"My men...I guess you killed them."
"Unfortunately." Yoongi said, rising from the bed.
"Well, it seems I have a need for more agents. I would be willing to-"
"I'm not interested."
"You can have your payment, I just wanted to test you-"
"I don't like to be tested," Yoongi said, his voice a dangerous murmur. He took a step forward, and the gray haired man pulled a gun out of his jacket.
"Don't come any closer." He said. Yoongi tilted his head.
"Hello, father."
The man whirled around. Jimin stood in the shadows, his eyes glinting.
"Ji-Jimin?" The man's voice wavered.
"You always did tell me you wanted me to visit more."
The man pressed his back against the wall and turned to face Yoongi. "I thought you killed him!" He said in outrage.
"Looks like we all went back on our promises."
Jimin advanced on his father, his gaze predatory. "Really, Dad? Hiring someone to kill me? Couldn't you have done that yourself?"
"You've caused me nothing but trouble! I invested in you! I trained you!" Mr. Park spat. "I fed you and clothed you and this is how you repay me?!"
Jimin looked at him levelly. "I trained myself, Father. I trained myself to survive." He snarled. "All you did was encourage my hatred of you."
Jimin wrapped the garrote around his father's neck, the movement supernaturally quick. Mr. Park's hands clawed at his throat as Jimin pulled the wire taut.
He was dead in less than a minute.
Jimin pulled away, dropping Mr. Park's body on the bed. He turned away, rushing from the room, and Yoongi ran after him. Yoongi grabbed him by the shoulder, stopping him.
"Are you alright?"
"I'm better now," Jimin said, wiping at his eyes. He didn't cry.
Yoongi spied the briefcase on the table. He clicked it open, revealing wads of cash.
"A hundred million won," Jimin breathed, looking over his shoulder. "What should we do with it?"
"I don't know," Yoongi said. "But it doesn't matter. It's all ours."
They quickly left the building, both of them hopping in Yoongi's car and heading back to their hotel room.
As soon as they got back Yoongi pulled off his shirt, wincing at the numerous cuts across his torso. None were deep enough to do any real damage, but they still hurt quite badly. Yoongi wrapped his shirt around his hand, the most serious of the injuries.
"Don't do that," Jimin chided. "Let me see it." He grabbed Yoongi's hand and a bottle of antiseptic, dousing the wound. Yoongi hissed at the burning sensation.
"Shut up, you crybaby."
"Hey, at least I'm not the one who once cried over a few stitches."
"I didn't cry," Jimin said indignantly. "My eyes were watering."
Yoongi laughed lightly as Jimin bandaged his hand. He pulled him closer with his uninjured hand, kissing him on the cheek. Jimin leaned into him, his hair soft against Yoongi's skin.
"What do we do now?" Jimin asked, his voice quiet.
"We disappear."
...
The next morning they dressed in the dark, hitting the road before sunrise.
"Thank you," Jimin said, his voice almost lost in the dark. "For coming back."
"I came back to kill you," Yoongi replied, puzzled. Jimin rested a hand on his knee.
"I know, it's just..." Jimin shook his head. "I missed you. Every day after you left I missed you and it hurt."
Yoongi knew how that felt, the aching of missing someone. He had buried himself, his feelings. He had become cold inside.
But not now. Not this time.
"This time," he said, covering Jimin's hand with his own. "we vanish together."
They drove away from the sunrise, two shadows chased by the morning.
...