Chapter Text
There was something scratching on your dormitory door. At two in the morning.
Aw hell no.
You ignored it; buried your head underneath the thin blankets. You should’ve, by now, been used to the unnerving sound. Not like it hasn’t bothered you ever since you could remember.
From the first time you’d heard it, or noticed it, it had become quite clear that whatever you should do, you did NOT want to open that door, no matter how much that thing on the other side wanted you to.
…whatever that thing was.
The scratching was increasing. In the morning you knew there would be no marks on the wood, despite how clawing it sounded. You’d looked every time.
Open the door
We just want to play
You covered your ears with your hands; it was no use, the voices might as well have been inside your own head.
It was all in your head…
You’ve been living at the orphanage ever since you were around the age of five or six. Nearly your entire life, and ever since living within the dusty halls, you’ve been able to see things… hear things. The type of stuff no one else seemed to notice. No one saw the blood spattered across the cafeteria walls, nor the body of that girl in the storage room, who’d gone missing only a few days before. No one heard the screaming coming from the cellar, or the quiet sobs that you've heard in one of the mop closets. It was strange, and more than a few times did you wonder if you were going insane.
Maybe you were, but as long as you were sane enough to question your sanity, you decided you were okay for the time being.
Obviously you knew not to talk about it to anyone else now, unfortunately that realization had come with time and by then you’d already built quite the reputation.
“The crazy one.” “Mental.” “Freak.” Despite being seventeen years of age now, those names still followed you no matter where you went. Even if most of kids you grew up with had long been adopted out, the rumors had stuck around and managed to infect the new inductees somehow. You’d become a living legend, but not in the good way.
Just when the desperate clawing at the wood was beginning to be unbearable, it stopped, leaving only tense, unsettling silence in its wake.
Your woken up again at six, this time by the outdated alarm clock beside your bed. Before you even looked into the bathroom mirror you knew there’d be bags under your eyes, rendering them somehow more hollow than the days previous. Even if you expected it, you made a face at your reflection, which didn’t improve your looks in the slightest.
Ignoring the whispers of the girls passing, you brushed your teeth, also ignoring the small, angelic looking girl sitting on the counter, swinging her legs. She had ribbons in her hair, pale pink and delicate, which matched her fringed dress. She said nothing as you stood beside her, resolutely staring at your own sad reflection in the mirror. She never said anything. There was another thing too— she had no reflection. The other girls in the room didn’t seem to notice her either, the only reason they were giving the area around you a wide berth was because— well, you.
You'd decided a long time ago to ignore her, and had no intention of doing anything else.
It was Saturday, which meant the kids were free to go off the grounds where there were precisely three things to do: go into the woods to be promptly killed by wolves or whatever else left the mangled bodies lying amidst the underbrush, into town where you’d often seen dark things lurking in the shadows of the alleyways…
Or go to the seaside carnival about a mile away, however you’ve never done this considering it would be rather pathetic to go by yourself, even if you did have the money.
At seventeen, you recently got a weekend job at one of the diners downtown; the hourly pay was abysmal, but you decided it was better than what you had before (zero dollars an hour). This was where you were headed for the day, once you’d picked at your breakfast long enough to say you’d eaten. At least, that was your plan, before you got stopped on your way while passing the mistress’s office.
“You, girl, hold on—“ You looked back to see the madam at the doorframe, “You won’t be going to work today.”
“But Madam—“
“I already called in to your workplace and explained the situation.” (Situation? What situation?) She said in a businesslike tone, “There’s a group of gentleman coming this afternoon to see about adoption, and they requested to meet all the children.”
“But—“
“That’s enough.” She never really had much patience, especially with you. “I want you to stay here like everyone else until the prospective buyers have made their decision.”
Boiling, you stalked back the way you’d come, up the staircase and instead of going back to the dormitory on the right you took the familiar left into the library. So what if some rich guys were coming? Tomorrow was your eighteenth birthday, your golden ticket out of this place— you knew the drill: any “prospective buyers” went straight for the little kids, ignoring the teenagers completely unless they were looking for free labor.
You’d never even been seen about for labor though. Once anyone who had the slightest inclination to adopt you out since you were small were quickly discouraged after they were informed about the “odd habits the girl has displayed on multiple occasions.” (Word for word, considering you've heard it multiple times throughout your time in the orphanage.)
Sulkily, you remembered what could only be considered the fiasco that occurred no less than five years ago now; a man and woman, newlyweds but unable to have a child, met with you. They were nice, you liked them, the woman smelled of expensive floral perfume and him of pine. They liked you too (at least until Madam pulled them aside as they requested the adoption papers. You’d seen them a bit later walking off the grounds holding the hand of another girl around your age.
The memory still rankled, obviously, so you didn’t give a damn anymore about getting adopted. You’d managed to survive thirteen years here, you weren’t about to get roped into adoption when you were so close to freedom. After tomorrow, once you were a registered adult, you’d get all the money you’d saved up and perhaps go see the world (as much as you could at minimum wage savings). It was pointless, having to sit around until who-knows-when in the afternoon, only to be most likely looked over and ignored. As well, the madam’s use of “group of gentleman” was not lost on you. The last thing you wanted was to be adopted out by a group of guys. The horrible possibilities of such an outcome made you suppress a shudder.
Alas, you wasted time re-reading a book and around one in the afternoon, just before lunch was usually called, the madam could be heard going from dorm to dorm, instructing the kids to head to the cafeteria.
Briefly, you considered hiding somewhere amidst the books to prevent yourself from having to go down as well, but you knew it would only cause problems in the end. The madam would surely be livid if you went through with it.
With an air of reluctance, you set aside your book and followed the crowd down the creaking main staircase and into the cafeteria.
Three men stood at the far end, each wearing tailored suits that screamed aristocracy. They could’ve been agents… or lawyers, you can’t decide. The younger children peered around the older’s legs, trying to get a better view of the three men— boys, really. They couldn’t have been much older than you. Barely adults, you think, looking discreetly at one in particular with a round face. Inexplicably, despite how professional he looked in a suit, he had bubblegum pink hair. Couldn't have been a day over eighteen.
The three boys looked up from their conversation as the group entered. You looked down at your shoes.
"Children, these very nice men are wanting to adopt one of you today." Madam ushered the three guys forward, "If you could introduce yourselves, gentlemen?"
The tallest man stepped forward; he was intimidating, both by his looks and his height; Dark brown hair that looked a bit prickly, shaved on the sides, a striking jawline and at least 5'9". "Annyeonghaseyo, Lee Ho-mida."
“Jae Park-mida." That was the round faced boy you'd spotted earlier.
The last man was in between the heights of the other two, with midnight black hair and a cautious smile that— even if it was dampened slightly— spoke of sunshine rays. He, like the other two boys, wore a black tailored suit.
“Du-sik Joo-mida!"
"Now, children," Madam looked down her nose at all of you, making her point, "I want all of you to be polite and on best behavior. Mr. Lee, I believe you wished to speak to them?"
The tallest man nodded, "If it's alright, Ma'am."
"Of course. I'll go get the required paperwork for when you come to a decision." The madam bowed slightly, taking her leave and letting the doors shut behind her.
There was a moment of awkward shuffling and restlessness from the group of children. No one knew what to do, since this was not by any means "normal procedure."
"Alright!" The tall man who was apparently Mr. Lee addressed the small mob, "Me and my associates just want to get to know you all. Uhm— I believe if all of you sat in groups... we can go about this better..."
Some minor chaos then ensued, mostly having to do with kids fighting over who had to sit next to you.
In the end, you're sitting at the very furthermost edge of one of the cafeteria tables with the unlucky people who’d not acted fast enough to sit somewhere else. They at least ignored you enough to pretend like they weren’t sharing a table.
You watched the three boys talk to a group, then move on. Each time they would show the table something, then within seconds— usually two or three, they'd shake their heads and move on, leaving the kids rather bemused and others disappointed. This happened several times before they reached your table.
“Hey guys! Alright, so…” The boy with the bubblegum hair took a device you’d seen him present at the other tables out of his pocket, however you’ve never seen anything like it before. It was a rectangular box, just large enough to look rather an uncomfortable thing to hold, with several little knobs and switches and buttons, most obvious being the bright red button on the very top.
“Don’t worry!” He assured the smaller kids at the table, who looked like they were ready to bolt any second; you have to admit, you were also eyeing the box warily.
“This is just a little test… all you guys have to do is watch, okay?” Mr. Lee nodded when the bubblegum glanced at him, then the button was pressed.
Nothing happened—
Oh, wait, yes, something did happen. In fact, it felt like your head was currently splitting in half, or there were several bullets now implanted within your skull. It was by far one of the worst migraines you’ve had, and you’ve had your fair share ever since you started living at the orphanage.
It felt like you were dying.
Your breath caught, your vision started to turn dark. Whatever the fuck that black box was, it was causing it, you knew. You heard exclamations from the other children, but you were hardly aware how they edged away from you. Just when you thought you couldn’t take it anymore, it stopped; Mr. Jae had apparently pressed the button again. You wanted to throw up.
With your vision coming back, you looked up to glare at the three boys, a million things to say and none of them being at all in line with what Madam said about behaving and being polite. All these things, however, quickly die on your tongue when you see all three of them wearing the same type of grim satisfaction on their faces.
“What’s your name?” Mr. Lee asks. Too intimidated to say much, you start,
“…uh—”
The midnight boy who’d introduced himself as Mr. Du-sik frowned, “How old are you?”
“Seventeen, but I’m turning eighteen tomorrow.” You say, rather bullishly. Hopefully they'd lose interest in you now.
No chance.
"And how long have you—"
"I’ve been here since I was five.”
The three boys exchange a meaningful glance; you have no idea why your answer would mean anything to them.
“…Can you come with us? To the the mistresses office?” At this the whole cafeteria, who’d been watching this interaction play out intently, broke into whispers.
“The freak?”
“What do they want with the her?”
You drop your gaze to your shoes. There was no way to decline, you doubt they would let you. Swallowing thickly, you mumbled, “Yes sirs.”
Head still residually pounding, you got up and followed the three men out into the main hall, leaving the whispers of the other kids behind you.
You stood just outside the Madam’s office, confused and annoyed and full of a hundred other different emotions you were trying to ignore. The three boys had led you only five minutes previously up the familiar flight of stairs and the moment you had entered the room, the madam had cleared her throat and requested you to leave again until she had gone over a "few things.". You knew what she was telling them, not just because you could vaguely hear what was being said behind the heavy oak door.
“The girl… throughout her time here… odd…” You didn’t even want to get adopted anymore. That hope had been long since killed off, and yet you still silently boiled while you listened.
She went on for some time, you could tell by the muffled sounds, but you can’t make out the response Mr. Lee had.
“…rather mental… needs psychiatric assistance, however…” You shut your eyes, cursing the hot tears that roll down your cheeks. You didn’t want to be able to hear the conversation anymore, but apparently there was no going around it. This time you did hear the response, loud and clear, because whoever was speaking had raised their voice a good bit.
“You speak of her as if she was handicapped with mental disorders!I will have you know I spoke to her and she seemed perfectly alert— even smart…” The voice lowered to a more respectable level and again your back to straining. You thought that might've been a stretch from whoever said that, considering you first words to them was literally you stuttering.
A few more minutes and the door creaked open, revealing Mr. Du-sik. He looked a little happier than when you’d left the office, however you’re unsure whether this is a good sign or not.
“Hey, you can come back in, if you want.”
Hesitantly, you slipped back inside to see the madam sitting at her desk, lips pressed into a thin, disapproving line.
“Y/N, it seems you’ve been adopted by these gentleman. The papers have already been signed—“ You spotted a few sheafs on the desk in front of her, a pen laid carelessly on top. Curiously, the dotted line at the bottom remained blank, even if they had your name at the top, “And everything seems to be in order. Good day, all of you.”
“C’mon, we should go.” The bubblegum boy took you by the arm and steered you out of the office, the two others close behind.
Your brain, it seemed, was short circuiting. All of this had occurred far too fast, and far too spontaneously. And what was up with your so called “signed” adoption papers…? You were tempted to just stop in the middle of the hallway, to wonder what could’ve possibly led you up to this point.
Your aware that you were being led towards the stairwell, away from the dormitories— hold on, you hadn't even packed!
"Wait—" You tug your arm out of the boy's grip, "I need to pack my things."
Mr. Lee looks back at you, calculating. The other boys were looking at him, waiting for a decision; he was the leader, that much was obvious.
"Alright. Meet us in the lobby in five minutes."
With a small bob of your head your heading back to the girls dorm, not before you heard a small whispered argument break out.
"Joon—"
"It won't take her too long, Hoseok."
"We have a job to do!! Besides—“
“I agree with Jimin...”
No matter how much you strain to hear the rest of his sentence, it's in vain and it would look beyond suspicious if you went back.
Apparently Mr. Lee, Jae and Du-sik were not who they claimed to be. This, however, did nothing to answer your question about what they could possibly want with adopting an about-to-be eighteen year old. It just added more questions that had no answers.
Just outside the dorm, there was a girl you vaguely recognized as part of your table in the cafeteria earlier. Worried she was going to interrogate you, or worse, you briskly passed her without looking; unfortunately that meant you missed the way her eyes were an unnatural color of dull grey, and how those same eyes followed you oddly as you passed.
In the dormitory, you reached under your bed for the beat up suitcase you kept under there. Clothes, a few measly pieces of jewelry you suspected were fakes but kept anyway, and— a photo of your parents, which you quickly stuffed into your pocket without bothering to look at it. There was a moment after you shut the clasps when you thought maybe you could just... leave. Technically you weren't of the orphanage now (at least, if the paperwork hadn't been as shadily done as you suspected it to be).
No chance.
“Y/N.”
“I’m coming!” You answered, then finally it came to you how…. odd that voice sounded all of a sudden.
You realized who’s it belonged to too late. It never did this in the daytime though–
Also too late was the realization that the dormitory door was open, and was currently opening wider; the force used to open it causing it to knock against the wall and smash a glass vase of flowers. Into the room stepped probably the most grotesque— creature— you’ve ever had the displeasure of seeing. It looked like a sick replica of the girl you’d seen outside, but now instead of normal skin around her eyes, it was darkening to an infected-looking grey. Her eyes, too, were blackening.
And, most unpleasantly, she had a knife stuck straight where her heart should be, but was still kicking enough, you suppose, to stalk towards you with the sort of grace usually considered unnatural for someone who was currently impaled by a kitchen blade.
The sight most ridiculously reminded you if someone accidentally fell into a meat grinder.
For a moment, your for some reason concerned about her well-being, then she— it-- opened her mouth and that same alien-sounding voice emitted.
You can’t leave me.
DON’T LET HER LEAVE.
Kill her if you have too, just make sure the girl stays.
It was a jumble of words, reverberating over each other but you're somehow able to understand either way. That wasn’t your biggest worry right now, however.
She takes a step towards you, then another. The coppery stench of blood was nearly overpowering, if you hadn’t wanted to throw up earlier, you sure as hell were inclined to do so now. You have enough sense, at least, to take a step back, dropping your suitcase, fear and revulsion at whatever the fuck this thing was preventing you from screaming, or uttering a single sound, for that matter. The pain in your temples was coming back with vengeance, and you just wanted it to stop.
Much to your horror (you hadn’t believed it could get much worse, how amusing) the thing reached up to the hilt of the knife and pulled it out, muscle, blood and sinew coming along with it with a gut-wrenching shkk. Her eyes were completely black like the void now, but maybe you were just imagining it. No… no you weren’t imagining this. This was real, even if you didn’t want it to be. The boost of adrenaline you get when she starts for you, bloody knife in crippled hand, is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before; those most basic, animalistic urges inside of you were flaring up like a roaring bonfire, and they were telling you to RUN.
But where could you go? She had you trapped, the door was behind her, and the dormitory was only so large. Your breathing goes funny again, the insistent pounding in your head preventing you from thinking straight.
You had to do something.
You needed to run, so that’s what you do, or try to, anyway. You’d already sort of accepted there was a high chance you were going to die soon anyway, so at least you could say to whoever you meet in the afterlife that you tried to stop your own murder. Worth a shot.
The moment you're making a bolt towards the door though, she’s immediately on you. A sharp, very real pain in your shoulder made you scream, and when you instinctively look behind you, the knife is being driven straight between your shoulder blades. Huh… funny, you could barley feel it. In fact, even as you fell onto the floor where you knew there was broken glass, you couldn't feel that either. Everything was fading nicely, like a movie going to the credits.
Nope, not today grim reaper. One second you're dying on the ground, next the weight on top of you was thrown off and someone was propping you up against the wall.
“Hey— no no no—“ You feel two fingers against your neck, checking your quickly slowing pulse, “Stay awake, okay?”
The voice was familiar, however that didn’t register until a little later.
“I’mmfine.” You muttered. The statement, however short and whispered it was, causes you to cough up a good amount of blood. You had always wanted to say that when you were most obviously not fine though, and right then seemed the best chance you’d ever have; you feel the woozy smile slide off your face.
“Shit— uhm—“ Your eyes, having fallen closed, open again at the sound of something large hitting the far wall. It was the girl, having been shoved off of you and now crumpling to the ground.
“Keep it away from her, whatever you do!!” Two forms were cornering the girl. A distant voice in your fuzzy brain was cheering whoever these people were on.
A warm hand at the nape of your neck caused your blurry vision to focus on a man— a boy, really, with midnight black hair—
Mr. Du-sik. You mumble it, but apparently he doesn’t hear you. Maybe you hadn’t actually said it. He was crouched down in front of you, and by the look on his face you can tell you didn’t look too hot at the moment.
“Darling, I need you to stay awake for me okay? I’m gonna pull something out of your back, and it’ll probably hurt—“ A scream from the girl made you flinch.
“We just have to immobilize her— Jimin, go left and I'll go right—“
“—It’ll probably hurt, but no matter what,” The midnight boy continued, ignoring the chaos happening behind him, “Don’t give into that sleepiness. You need to resist it alright?” His hair was plastered to his forehead, one of his hands pressed flat against where you’d assume your heart would be on your chest. His green eyes flick over to the fight for a moment before coming back to you, “Can you do that for me?”
You nod— or at least try to; something was preventing you from doing so, though you were too numb to realize what it was. The boy’s expression spoke of grim determination and you felt a painful tug at the base of your neck. It felt like the muscles were being pulled and ripped apart, and you whimpered as the feeling only increased. You squeeze your eyes shut against the pain and finally, after what felt like an eternity, it stopped, replaced by a dull throb that was nearly just as bad. There’s the sound of metal falling to the floor.
When you finally open your eyes, you see one of the people behind the midnight boy pinning the girl down. There was blood, so much blood— everywhere—
“You’re doing great.” So-called Du-sik said to you, his hand still on your chest; your aware that the pain in your skull was lessening, “W-what’s your name?”
“…Y/N.” He was asking you questions to keep you awake, but you knew in the moment that every second you were somehow feeling better.
The midnight boy nods, sweat dripping down his cheeks, “I-I’m Hoseok. Jung Hoseok.”
Another scream from the girl. You watched wide-eyed as the two figures— which you finally recognized as the so called Mr. Lee and Jae— tried to restrain her. She was clawing at the floor, and she was leaving gouges in the floor— she had claws—
“What…”
Hoseok sat back, following your gaze; his energy was thoroughly zapped, “Exorcisms are never pleasant to witness. I doubt you’ll listen, but try not to watch.”
One of the boys placed his palm down on the girl’s chest, much like how Hoseok had done to you, and within seconds she stopped thrashing. In fact, she was completely still.
“…Is she…?” You couldn’t bring yourself to finish the question but Hoseok luckily knew what you meant.
“Perhaps.” He grimaced, getting up and trying to wipe a bit of blood off his suit; it smeared, “If she's alive, she will be lucky. If the possession advanced beyond the first stage, I doubt she is... it can be extremely painful.”
Ah, how pleasant. You let out a surprisingly annoyed-sounding huff.
Hoseok helped you up, and you watched as the other two boys worked together to place the girl on one of the beds. She looked peaceful, however you didn't miss the way her chest failed to rise and fall.
“Hey— you alright?” The tall boy had faired nearly as worse as Hoseok, you thought, when it came to blood coverage. It looked like he’d dipped his hands in a bottle of ketchup.
“Yes.. uhm…” Desperatley trying to keep your composure, you look to where the girl was at the end of the room, "I—" You paused, swaying on your feet, "I have encountered some freaky shit in my time here, but that—" You point at her, slumped between pillows, "Whatever the fuck just happened takes the cake."
The three boys seem mildly amused by this and you wonder just what exactly was wrong with them. You were shaking, head spinning, and they looked like this was just any regular Saturday afternoon for them. Maybe it was.
The tall boy looked to Hoseok, “Are you well enough to be erasing memories any time soon? You look really pale—“
Hoseok shook his head, waving the hand that wasn’t supporting you in a dismissing manner, “When has that ever stopped me? I’m fine… just, someone take Y/N.” (I’m sorry, you think, but what the fUCK was this about ERASING MEMORIES?!)
Bubblegum ended up taking you. In any other circumstance you probably would’ve been embarrassed being passed around like a rag doll, but y’know, being stabbed in the nape of the neck really changes one’s priorities.
You tried not to think about why you weren’t currently dying right now. You're shoulder blades felt sore, a little beat up, but it didn’t even begin to compare to the pain you’d felt earlier. You couldn’t have imagined it, because currently your clothes were soaked in your own blood, and your mouth still tasted a bit coppery. Your legs felt like they were going to fall out from under you any second.
The three of you watched in silence as Hoseok went over to the girl and passed a hand over her forehead. Nothing seemed to happen, but the midnight boy nodded curtly, looking even more tired than before.
“We should go. All the ruckus we caused will surely bring at least a few people running.” Jimin said.
“Your right—“
"I'm not going anywhere with you all." You interjected. All three boys seemed a little taken aback.
"Y/N—"
"Thanks for saving my life," You began, attempting to stand upright without bubblegum's help, "But I get the feeling I shouldn't really trust you guys either, no offense." Your knees decided just then to give out, and you were back in Jimin's arms again,
“There's someone coming.“ Hoseok said urgently, "We have to go." You were starting to hear voices, maybe in the downstairs hallway. Your sprained ankles smarted, the world going sideways; next thing you know someone’s carrying you, and again you're dipping back into unconsciousness.
When you finally do wake up, you're in a car, driving down an unfamiliar highway. In short, when you take stock of how your body feels, you feel like shit. Probably because nearly everything with the ability to hurt in your body was hurting.
When you tried to get up, there was a sharp stab of pain from your shoulders; you bit your lip to stop yourself from groaning.
“Oop— careful…” A hand helps you straighten up and you look beside you to see the boy who’d introduced himself as Hoseok. Your throat feels inflamed as you choke out the whispered question, “What happened…?”
It wasn’t necessarily the most important, but any question was a good one in this situation. You felt like you were stranded at sea without a life jacket (and actually you did kind of feel like you had recently drowned and been brought back to life, so maybe you had been…? Were you going to get eaten by a shark now? Did sharks even eat humans? No… you were delirious, fuck…).
“Ah…” Hoseok hesitates slightly, and you don’t miss the way he glances into the front seat, “We’re going home. Our place.”
Our place… you let the words soak in, not wanting to meet the midnight boy’s gaze so instead taking a newfound interest in the passing scenery. That’s right… you were adopted now. One day before turning eighteen. Great.
Illegally adopted, at that, you thought. You doubt those papers, still in the madam’s office, were completed in any sort of normal fashion. Pretty sure you were getting low-key kidnapped.
“Uhm—“ You felt stupid, choking on your own tongue; a hundred different questions jockeying for position. Who are you all? What do you want from me? Why did I get fucking stabbed in the back by a fourteen year old girl?
Eventually, you ask, “Why am I alive right now…? I’m no doctor, but usually someone such as myself who recently had a knife in their back is in a lot more…” You trail off, trying to think of the right word. Pain? Suffering? Mortal peril, perhaps?
“Hoseok healed you— as much as he could, anyway.” The tall boy in the passenger seat twisted a little to look back at you, “If you're still feeling sore, you’ll probably have to heal the normal way…”
You bite your lip, wondering if you should say something in the silence.
“I know you guys lied about your names.” The question 'Why?' was tacked on without you even having to say it.
“Ah… yeah.” The tall boy grimaced, a slightly guilty expression on his face, “Guess we weren’t that inconspicuous about it huh?” You're very tempted to raise an eyebrow at his words but he continues before you get a chance, “I’m Kim Namjoon. You already know Hobi.” Namjoon gestures to Hoseok, then the bubblegum who was driving, “This guy here is Park Jimin.”
“…Who are you guys?” You asked suddenly, unable to keep it in any longer. It came out a lot less strong than you wished it did, barley above a whisper. You had been tempted to ask “What are you guys?” But had decided that might be a little rude.
Namjoon looked out the window, and for a moment you wonder if he was ignoring your question. He seemed to be gathering his thoughts, however, because he sighed and asked, “What do you think we are?”
The question has you slightly taken aback. You looked down at your shoes, "...I thought— maybe, I don’t know— you all are part of… part of a... weird agency?” How else could you possibly put it? The way they had detained that girl— maybe they were agents, but agents for whom? “Or something. Gang members.” You added, worried you had struck home by the silence that followed.
“Mhm.” Namjoon nodded sagely, as if you hadn’t just said you suspected him of being apart of a gang.
“Am I… right?” You knew perfectly well you might be crossing the line with this question. If you were right in your suspicions, maybe the act of crossing the line— any line— with a gang member was not necessarily your greatest idea, however there really wasn’t going back now.
Luckily the three boys didn’t seem offended, or even taken aback in the slightest. Ridiculously, they seemed rather amused.
“I wouldn’t say your wrong…” Jimin began, and your eyes widened, stomach dropping into some distant abyss. Namjoon notices this and quickly attempts to mend the damage.
“Like Jimin said, you're not completely wrong, but the choice of words is a bit… off.” He shakes his bangs out of his eyes, “See, um… how should I put this…” Apparently he couldn’t come up with anything better than the naked truth and blurted out, “We’re demon hunters.”
You laughed. Actually laughed, because that was probably the last and most ridiculous thing you ever would’ve guessed he could say. You hadn’t even realized you could laugh until now, after everything that occurred within the past three hours or so.
However, no one else did. Your chuckling died off, replaced by the sound of tires against asphalt.
Surely he must be joking. Of course he would be joking…
He wasn’t joking.
He was crazy.
“It’s true.” Hoseok says beside you, a flicker of a smile appearing on his face. Jimin nods.
They all were crazy.
“I don’t believe you.” You said bullishly. The whole ordeal suddenly lacked the humor it had a few moments before, replaced by a quietly boiling anger.
“Then how would you explain what just happened?” Namjoon asked, not unkindly. There was a spark in his eyes, but it’s gone before you can tell what it meant, “How can you explain why that girl attacked you? And— also, how do you explain your ability to hear and see such gruesome things that others can't?"
You fall silent at that. He was right, however much you hated to admit it. There was no good explanation for what happened to you today— and what's been happening for the past nine years.
“I know this must all be a lot for you to process. I don’t expect you to believe everything, Y/N, but…” Namjoon said quietly, eyes on the road ahead, “But what I said is the truth, I swear on the angel if there even is one. When you want answers… they will be given to you.”
Silence again. You wished it wasn’t so awkward, but you were too tired both mentally and physically to try and change it. The three boys knew you needed time to think, at least, even if they were going to lie to you like they did.
You open your mouth and it takes a few tries until any sound comes out. “What was that… black box? That you had.” It hadn’t necessarily been what you wanted to ask, but it was a question, at least. You looked over to Jimin in the passenger seat.
“Oh— you mean this?” He takes out the now-familiar device from the inner lining of his jacket, looking down at it as if he hadn’t given the thing much thought until now. “It’s… a sound frequency device. See this dial?” He leans forward and shows you a little notch on the side of the box, “This lets me change the frequency of the sound waves. Namjoon—“ Here bubblegum looks up and glances into the passenger seat, “He… edited the machinery a bit, and this thing can now blast out a frequency as close to demonic energy as artificially possible.”
Considering you only understood about 20% of what Jimin just said, all you could do is nod. Then, “So… why did it give me such a horrible headache again?”
Namjoon was the one to answer, and what he said made an involuntary shiver run down your spine.
“It means you're one of us.”
About half an hour passes and the urban scenery which you were accustomed to seeing around the orphanage soon gave way to the bustle of a city; Seoul. It was too-bright to your tired eyes, and even if it was already past ten P.M., the city was bustling and alive. You don’t know how long you must have been passed out for, but it must have been for a good five or six hours. You notice the car was slowing down and perked your head up, watching as eventually you stop in front of a— noodle shop?
“Y/N, have you ever worked at a ramen restaurant?” The question was so out of the blue it took probably a little too long to register.
“W-what?”
“Have you any experience in working with ramen?” Namjoon repeats.
“Uhm… I worked at a diner on the weekends back at the…” Your face settles into bemusement, “Orphanage, but I just washed the dishes.” Why in the world—
“Okay… hm.” Namjoon turned to Jimin in the drivers seat, lowering his voice but you're able to hear anyway, “Someone is gonna have to train her.”
“We live in the apartment above the restaurant.” Hoseok explains, mistaking your confusion. He points up to the second floor of the building, where a single light was on in one of the rooms, though you couldn’t see inside because the thick curtains were drawn. “We own the restaurant too though.”
At this you take a closer look at the restaurant. A sign declared Bangtan Noodles. Huh.
“Didn’t expect this?” Namjoon asked, watching your reaction as you all got out of the car and onto the sidewalk.
“I— well, I don’t know. You guys didn’t strike me as the… restaurant owner type I guess.”
Demon hunters. You pushed the thought out of your mind. Guess they were just joking.