Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.

The grandfather clock stood proudly with all its golden accents, premium wood carving, and delicate gear pieces put in place to make it the showpiece of the room. In perfect accordance to the decor, the other aspects of the room were pleasant to the eyes of any newcomer.

Except no newcomer was allowed to come in.

The large room which held all sorts of fine curtains from the luxurious stores of China, exquisite chandeliers from the fanciest shops of Italy, perfectly sewn Persian carpets from the renowned streets of Turkey, and the teak wood for the furniture straight from the forests of Burma, was heavily guarded by bulky men who held rifles by their sides. Black suits and earpieces in, they were hired to make sure that the place was secure. It was protected for a reason and access was gained only by the most prestigious.

All verified by the man himself.

The man in question was a man in his mind 50's, burkly looking with a gold wrist watch and a cigarette on his darkened lips from the constant usage of smoky bliss. He had the fine-threaded, double-breasted navy blue suit on and a look at the clock, as everyone else held their breaths. Eerie silence filled in, except for the clock that struck for another minute gone by.

"Where is he?"
Choi Lang asked, eyes now focussed on the one woman in the room, his secretary, Ms. Areum.

"We aren't able to reach him, it seems like his mission got delayed."
She mentioned, as she looked through her Ipad.

Lang walked over to the main window, where the view was that of the entirety of Seoul, blinking back with yellow lights as night fell over with each passing second. He really wanted to get on with the meeting soon, for his daughter waited back home after having postponed their family dinner for the better half of the past month. He may be capable of many things, but disappointing his daughter wasn't one he would like to add to that list.

With a sigh, he waited for the other to appear by the door.

Meanwhile, fifteen minutes away from the building was the awaited man in his get-up of black body suit, sunglasses and a high-range sniper gun by his side. The alleyways were dark as he got into the car removing his mask and gloves.

"Done with the job?"
The designated driver, Minho spoke as he started the engine.

"Got a little too bloody for my liking, but yeah done."
The man spoke as he grabbed a few wet wipes to clean his hands and neck that had splattered red all over.

His hand strained with effort as he removed all the extra accessories and gadgets to flop back on the seat with his head low. The day had been exhausting, though it only did start at 3 pm in the afternoon. It was a clean in and out, one-man job with no witnesses and casualties, and given he had the experience for it, he was appointed to complete the task.

The negotiations with the now deceased had occurred earlier and it hadn't been quite fruitful with too many close calls to guns being pulled out for strike outs. But after much working through and no definitive result, the best course of action was to eliminate the person in question.

And that was carried out by the man in the car.

"Boss called by the way. He's waiting for you and is getting agitated apparently."
Minho muttered, eyes on the road with a hand on the gear to speed through.

"Well, if the job was easier, I would've been sipping whiskey with him right now. Not my fault that bastard tried hitting me with the broken tile."
The man in the backseat said, rolling his eyes.

He refused to name his "victims" for it meant that they were human too, despite all their own wrongdoings. It was a habit since long after his first and last failure at doing his assigned job.

But that was a tale for another time.

"Put on the suit before meeting the boss."
Minho ordered, pointing to the freshly-pressed suit in the back.

And with some struggling, the man was in the suit, styling his hair and putting on a cologne to put off any smell of blood that clung on him. He still needed medical attention to that cut against his side. But that could wait.

After all Choi Lang was waiting for his most trusted right hand man, Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung was a man in his late 20's with a stride rivalling that of a calculative cheetah waiting for its prey, with piercings lining against his ear and eyebrows and a singular tattoo of an ace card on his right bicep. His head lifted high, confidence in each step and a smile that could allure the most disdained of hearts. His eyes were sharp, looking with intent, always on alert for any possible threat or call for work— one that was usually tasked for completion under the shadows of the moonlight above.

He was a man of his word, a true charmer on the run, and more importantly a highly feared assassin under the biggest crime syndicate of East Asia.

"Do I look okay?"
Taehyung asked as he pulled his blazer right, after having stepped out of the car.

"Yeah, except for this."
Minho muttered, leaning forward to set one strand of his unruly hair right.

"Thanks hyung."

And with that said, he walked into the building, confident steps against each other and a slight smirk as he greeted the staff. A lift ride up and he was standing in front of the very same men who guarded the room. One deep breath in and he opened the door to face his boss.

"Kim Taehyung, how wonderful of you to grace us...thirty minutes late than what was discussed."

"I apologise, boss. The job has some difficulties that required extra effort from me."

"Just let us know before hand."
Lang gruffly muttered, sitting back on his chair.

"Now, onto important matters, I need you to help conduct this operation."

"The details of which have already been finalised by my end and you'll have the copy of it by tonight. I'll ask Areum to send it to you. From my end, it's the same rules. Clean cut work, no spills, no witnesses. There's no room for discussion on this as the Kwons aren't keen on settlements and refuse to give up on that transaction. For now, we will have to give them a piece of their own medicine. They need to know their last week's antics aren't entertained by us."

"Okay boss. I'll go through it and let you know my further plans."
Taehyung said, standing in front of Lang.

Yang sat there, signing a few forms, correcting a few eyesore of mistakes and then looked at Taehyung with the same eyes that had fist struck fear in him when he was 17. It was so precisely present just like when Lang had put his hand forward for a handshake and the rest was history.

"Good, now I'll take leave. I know this conversation could've been done on the phone, but I personally needed to talk to you about this, conveying my seriousness."

"Understood boss."

With that done, everyone filed out getting the signal of the meeting ending, given their parts were discussed before Taehyung got there.

"Have a good night, Taehyung."

"You too, boss."

Lang turned back to Taehyung and with one hand on the knob of the door, he muttered,

"You can call me Yang-nim. After all, you are taking the lead next."

"I would much rather not. At least not till then."

"Whatever pleases you."

Choi Lang had been Taehyung's father figure through the peak transistion from being a teeanger to an adult. His own dad had died before he was born and with his mother deteriorating after a stage 3 blood cancer when he was 15, the need for money and upholding the roof above their head was on his shoulders. That was the reason he had sought help from loan sharks innocently except it ended up with him dangerously close to death. With debts piling up and his mother's imminent demise approaching after all the treatments had failed her, Taehyung had no opportunity to turn to petty violence and slowly climb the ladder until Choi Lang came along.

Taehyung was and will forever be indebted to him, but the older wasn't as keen on it. He much rather preferred talking to him like they were respected equals. Especially having seen Taehyung's perfected skill in striking the target without a single smidge of mess up.

Taehyung was a sleuth leopard on loose trying to lure the prey without expending his own energy. And that very trait was his ticket to being Choi's most trusted, right hand man.

"One to go, please."
Taehyung asked as he stood outside the small, hole-in-the-wall type of taken shop.

The old man inside smiled warmly having been acquainted with Taehyung and his almost-daily order of meals.

Taehyung quietly stood there, waiting for his meal to be packed as he took out a cigarette for a smoke. It was a ritual at this point, standing outside the curtained place, awaiting for his name to be called to pick up his order of hot ramen and meat, watching the traffic move seamlessly like it was any other day, while his lungs expanded to accommodate the ugly smoke of his cigarette.

He had seen so many advertisements, posters, reminders and more preaching about everything wrong with smoking. A cancer so alike his mother's, would ensue, they said. But he couldn't care less.

Taehyung just couldn't.

It didn't matter. After all, his will to live had been constantly tried and tested; his persistence was remarkable but tiring. And if that test came out negative as he waited for the Earth to consume him whole, he would graciously allow the ritual to be completed. He wasn't actively trying to put himself in danger's way— the Satan's calling for him. He wasn't reckless or cruel to his own living body that had always worked to his accord. But if it came to head with his "dangerous" habits, then so be it.

It was all so confusing, for there were days where the very thought of death was nauseating— falling to his knees and puking his guts out. But on other days, he found it comforting in a way his mother hugged his frail body after the sickness had run him through to the ground. Sick and twisted were the ways of life. He wished it wasn't so draining to tackle this issue of his.

Especially in regards to his line of work, one that gave him the decision to take someone's life; as if playing the role of God himself— to give or take based on the deeds done.

But how could he make that decision when he was just as flawed as every other human on this cursed planet, maybe much more damaged with all the blood that had bled through the crevices of his hands.

"Done, take your meal, son."
The old man's voice called out and Taehyung was pulled out of his weekly existential crisis.

As he thanked the man and walked back home to little, shabby apartment, he was reminded as to why he never got a solution to the web of tangled thoughts in his head. It was because he never had time in between all the meetings, all the runs, and all the kills. Above all, if he gave more importance to any of those problems regarding morality and mortality, it would become all too real and that would mean he must acknowledge them.

Something that scared the feared assassin, Kim Taehyung.

Shook him to the core, but when the next day would arrive, he would once again relive his day of slashes and threats. A cycle so mechanical and draining, one that sucked on his soul like a boodthirsty vampire of the past, one that was to be lived over and over until there was respite in the form of his own death.

Sure, he could have the riches of this world, largely encouraged by Lang himself. Yet, he couldn't find it in himself to give that joy of being human. A human with money to spend, a human whose happiness was a step away if taken the chances, a human who was envied by many. Yet, over and over again he chose to live a life that was marked by none of that glamourous things he had once dreamed of in his youngling years.

This was the life he had chosen, circumstances be done with.

And this was the life he would lead till the end, for any alternative to this is unknown to him.

"Is this a close contact or in range attack?"

"Would opt for in range any day. But the chances for one is difficult this time, just go with close contact."
Hyojin muttered in response to Taehyung, as he flipped through the printed documents.

Taehyung had taken his time studying the patterns of Kwons and with how erratic their days were, simply choosing to spend money and time inefficiently. To say he was pissed at their lack of discipline apart from the deal was an understatement. And so the need for close contact, where he's acquanited with the man was evident as such.

He eventually agreed with Hyojin and went on to arm himself with his trusty weapons that included a secret belt knife, dagger in his boots, a revolver in his suit, spare magazine in his secret pocket and finally his necklace that was gifted for his first mission accomplishment which served for a great vessel for poison to be injected.

"Tie check, boots check, glasses check. Yeah, you are good to go."
Minho said, as he looked over from his driver's seat.

The three of them were currently behind the dumpster alley of the mansion. Hyojin had checked for a route to enter without the security check in front. Taehyung had followed through the plac, enter with a polite smile, own up to it, strike a conversation with Kwon Dohyeon, slip something in his drink or look for stab point work, get out and be free.

Taehyung looked different, his lenses in, wigged hair in perfection, a heeled boot to throw off the height perception by anyone making note, glasses on which covered half his face stylishly and nothing too note-worthy for anyone to pinpoint his presence in the party. If anyone asked he was Kim Sanwook, an established businessman in Vietnam. No one had to know more than that.

"You'll do well."
Minho's words ringed in encouragement, just like usual.

Except they weren't met with the noted response of 'I know' from Taehyung, something he had said every single time since his first formal kill. He was confident of his skills to kill, a license to do so with practice, expertise and wit that had drilled through the years. And yet, this time the words didn't make it to his tongue.

Instead, he walked out without a whisper of goodbye.

He was dressed to his nines, everything in order as he entered the venue of the party after having squeezed through the vents. A feat in itself, but Taehyung's training had kicked in. After that was just socialising with people unknown who simply bought his lies.

"Oh, haven't seen you around?"

"Ah, Mr. Jeong we just met during golf the other day."
Taehyung lied, a chuckle on his lips as the older man's puzzled expression transformed to one of recognition.

Except they hadn't met and the other simply took it in.

"Right! How's the business going?"

"It's well, sailing through for now. Hopefully, we'll see some exponential growth in the next quadrant given how demand is picking up abroad."
Taehyung lied, swirling the champagne flute before sipping it like a gentleman.

A made believe business he owned which had better success than the world could imagine.

And just like that, he talked to a selected few, smiling charmingly until he met with the man himself, a short statured, aged down, greying man in his mid 50's.

Kwon Dohyeon.

"Hello, how are you enjoying the party?"
Dohyeon was first to strike the conversation.

Taehyung bowed slightly out of respect and tried to block the incoming voice of reason.

A nasty little thing in his field of work where nothing of compassion was entertained for more than five seconds. And yet, without fail, before every kill made that voice which sounded awfully like a fictionalised version of whatever he remembered of his dad from videos when his mom was pregnant with him, yelled louder than ever.

And like every other time, he would build his mental block even higher. Even for that voice to fade into nothing as the screams of how immoral it was to kill, despite the other's morality, how it was not the cheery seven year-old Taehyung's dream to kill and rather fly a plane, how all of this would haunt his soul when he reached hell.

But, who would wait for that soul-sucking fieryy place made by religion when he had his own personal hell each night as he laid to sleep?

His nightmares never ceased, it haunted him and drained his life by little bit each day. Never too much, never too little. Just enough for him to notice and no one else. Drained until he was nothing but a shell of his former body, breathing to exist and never more.

In his own strange ways, he wished for those nightmares to come. Even prayed for them.

Taehyung felt redeemed by that torture as if he was paying the price for the blood on his hands. He felt crucified for those vicious sins he had committed, bone breaking and crunching under his knees. He felt the weight of those undone lift for mere minutes before it was thrusted back on his shoulders, making him double down further.

"Yeah, it's wonderful. Love the appetizers!"
Taehyung replied, lifting the tootpick which had a fried ball on the other side of it.

He couldn't dissect his thoughts now, especially when he had a role to play. The last performance of Dohyeon's lifetime.

"I'm glad, Kim-ssi. The new opening deserves its celebrations and what better way than to host it for my beloved friends."
Dohyeon muttered, his smile widening until the crooked teeth came into view.

Taehyung bit his tongue, to exercise the restraint of not giving up the position of many here who wished for the Kwons' downfall, including him. It was no surprise given the multiple ways in which Dohyeon had lived, prominently one in which he cheated, bamboozled and devoured without loyalty to the bonds sealed on paper and blood.

"I believe you haven't met my daughter. Miyeon-ah, come here!"
Dohyeon called out as a younger girl in her 20's walked over, all dressed in pearls and midnight blue silk.

Taehyung smiled, biting into his food, as he looked for an opening, It was getting scarce since, the longer he stayed, the longer they would remember him and the whole point of it was secrecy sworn for his own safety. As the Kwon leader hugged his daughter, back to Taehyung, he wondered if the injection would work better or the poison.

The poison was a hit or miss, but an injection always did wonders and perhaps a nick if it gets a little tricky.

"Hello, nice to meet you."
The girl spoke, eyes intently focussed on Taehyung's form.

He felt slightly unnerved by the way she looked at him, something laid beyond those eyes and he wasn't keen on knowing more. It was like she was scanning his movements, ready to pounce on any mistake of his, though it could just be his paranoia given that he hadn't done field work this close to target. Most of his kills were as an assassin with a long-range rifle, 100 feet away. There was danger lurking at the edges of this dance to kill and his opportunity window was closing in.

And so, Taehyung entertained the conversation, a little longer. People acting as if they knew him when they had never seen him in their lives, everyone too self-obsessed with themselves and the achievements they had in their bag. There was a strategic spill of wine when no one was looking as he laughed at one of their shitty jokes, pulling everyone's gaze to his face than hands.

Kwon Dohyeon was perfectly in his element, slightly drunk but enough to know what was happening.

A spill at first and a slip next.

Taehyung called out to get a refill, one step ahead and suddenly the floor was slipping beneath his feet, his glass shattering against the table and floor. The pieces flying across, people stunned to silence and Taehyung's falling figure against Dohyeon's right calf, a glass piece in hand.

"Oh my god, I'm so very sorry. I didn't see the puddle and now this. I'm so very sorry for the mess. Are you hurt?"

Three steps in and the fourth was faux innocence, sincere apologies floating into the space in between. Taehyungwas mastering the act and it was paying off as he glanced at the glass pieces on the floor and one discrete look at the spot of action.

"I'm okay, son. Are you?"
Dohyeon said, much too kindly as he helped Taehyung up.

And Taehyung hissed, showing his slightly nicked hand. He tried picking the glass against his suit as the yell for waiters from Dohyeon came instantly.

"What is this? One of our guests are hurt. This carelessness is not why I pay all of you."

Taehyung looked at the others with a smile to pacify the abrupt tension in the air. He subtly shifted his cuffs to hid the device at hand.

"I'm alright. I think I'll just take my leave. Perhaps, this is my cue to reach home."
Taehyung said, laughing softly.

Dohyeon nodded, eyes glazed with concern. It was weirdly present as he insisted on someone helping Taehyung wrap his wound and perhaps, some medical attention. But of course, Taehyung refused it, even when Miyeon offered to help softly. Instead he walked away after bidding them goodbye.

The conversations restarted with more vigour, chatters and laughs. And Taehyung could only smirk as he walked out of the main exit. He hoped that it would take its course. It wasn't just one now.

The point to be made couldn't just be valid with one kill, right?

There were going to be signs, most marked with poisoning, a tiny drop in the glass perhaps, or maybe five more in the bottle. Perhaps another vicious pin breaking their skin. Anything to get it across, anything to complete his boss's work.

"Wait!"
Miyeon's voice came about from behind him.

Taehyung turned around, schooling his expression instantly. He racked his brain if there was anything that was left awry in the midst of the chaos he created.

"You are a hard man to catch. Anyways, I just wanted to give you my number. Call me whenever you feel like you need a spark to ignite or perhaps a fling or better yet, just a chat. I like you, so you must know my number isn't given away just like that."
Miyeon said, eyes glittering like the pearls strung on her neck.

"I'm honoured, thank you for the offer. Looking forward to the day of business soon."
Taehyung said, a mischievous grin on his lips.

An elaborate act in its last stages, he would definitely throw away this paper after he was out of everyone's sight. Until then, it would stay in his pocket as he shook hands with her after having successfully diverted the attempt for a hug.

Mayhem would eventually unravel and Taehyung was going to be its spectator.

Two hours later when the party ceased to exist and everyone who had come dispersed slowly, Kwon Dohyeon would collapse on the floor. Instant with no time for any of his assistants or family to take him to the hospital. And before that was taken in account, a few more would have frothed and choked on their vomit.

The news would hit the papers, outrage would spark over and the police would be involved.

But Taehyung would then choose to make himself a chocolate milkshake and sit by the window, laying low till next week when another bigger news would make it to the headlines, making everyone forget it over time.

The cycle continues and he would be no witness, given there wasn't a fingerprint as he had his fancy sheer glove on as part of that costume.

Except that wasn't the case, as the shrill ringtone of his burner broke through the silence of his dreamless sleep, far too late unless it was an emergency.

"Hello?"

Choi Lang's gruffy voice came in rushed and Taehyung stood up as the urgency shook through.

"Taehyung, I need you to immediately and effectively pack to leave. 10 minutes, there will be a car at your disposal and a key in the glove box, take the road towards Yeongsang and you know where to go. Don't contact anyone, until I do. For now, treat it as an emergency and just follow instructions."

"Got it."

And Taehyung's feet moved on their own accord, pulling out the luggage bag he kept for emergencies. His training kicked in as he dumped everything needed, including the weaponry of his choice and essential cash to cover any tracks made by credit cards and so on. His eyes were laser focused on what next as his ears will still on alert for the next instructions.

"Your safety will come first. Don't make me repeat it."

Taehyung knew what the older man meant.

There had been far too many incidents where he wasn't playing by the cards, risking himself for the assigned task. Of course, none of them had resulted in a casualty, he was careful, just not enough according to Lang. There might have been a little adoration for him given the added reminders among the many other things done before.

It usually included staying beyond the time deemed safe, getting a closer shot, essentially exposing himself to them further, altercations with people who were under the radar of Lang's business and those usually meant he was threatening his own safety by making himself noticeable. It also came in the rarer forms of doing extra duties beyond his job—

"Can I get you anything?"
Taehyung asked as he entered the room in which Choi Lang's wife, Choi Areum was resting, with daisies in his hand.

"Oh Tae-yah. It's  been long  since I saw you. Come over more often yeah?"
Areum's softer voice came through.

"I surely  will to come  eat your kimchi! And you need to get well for that, okay?"

"Ah, a worrybug like always."

"Can't help it, sorry."

Areum had an appendicitis, nothing quite major or painful given it was a quick procedure, but Taehyung had made a point to visit her in the hospital. A gesture to respect the woman who had fed him during the first few weeks of losing his mother. She had taken care of him like he was her own, something in between an older sister and a mother.

"Uh-huh. Now those flowers are—"

"For you!"
Taehyung exclaimed, giving it to her as he took the bouquet to admire it up close.

He sat on the opposite bed, as she spoke of her honeymoon trip to Switzerland where she had seen daisies grown beautifully along the plains below the huge mountains. He listened on with intent about the many things, adding his own experiences making it a wonderful conversation.

But it was a safety issue at the end of the day!

People kept track of her, given she was the wife of a man who had many enemies and of  him,for  being an assassin whose identity though, unknown to all was very much one click away for disclosure. Lang was rightfully angry the following evening, only coming to senses after hearing his wife admit that she needed normalcy brought by Taehyung that morning.

Still the man was worried and who could really blame him?

Taehyung bid hiis goodbye before securing his home with locks and getting to the basement where the car was already awaiting, Minho standing against the bonet with keys in his hand.

"Be safe."

Those were the only words spoken before the other walked away, hands in his pockets as the early morning fog at 4 am clouded the sight beyond a few feet. Taehyung started off his journey just like that, packed bag in the passenger seat and nothing more, for the route was etched in his mind. 

He had been there a few times for important reporting to his boss who was vacationing, or some business deals to be done. To have it be assigned as his safe house by Choi lang, a burly man with a permanent frown between his eyebrows was definitely an honour and Taehyung was going to follow through as expected.

The next call came as expected.

It was a few hours later by Choi Lang on his burner yet again, excpt this time with updates and instructions.

"There's been some complications with the Kwon's killing, it's a mess at the moment and suspicions towards us are at an high. I'm not willing to risk it right now, but a CCTV took a glimpse of you specifically and yeah, I'm clearing up tracks."

Taehyung didn't reply, instead wondered back to what could have possibly given up his position that night. It was difficult to point it to one person when he had talked to quite a few people, who could've raised hackles. It could've been the bodyguards, the family, the other affluent people and more importantly, Kwon Miyeon— whose phone number still inked on paper was present in his wallet.

Maybe he was stupid, call it his intution, his weird vibe check, but he had removed that paper from his back pocket of his tux trousers and put it in his wallet on the day he returned back home.

Perhaps, that was the culprit all along.

"Okay, few instructions. Ditch this phone elsewhere, buy one more and message me a good morning. I'll know it's you. Next, keep interactions to a bare minimum, I don't want you risking your disguise. Just lay low, don't engage and perhaps enjoy your impromptu vacation— one due for years now."
Choi's voice through the phone speakers was clipped and short.

"Okay, will do. Thanks boss."

Taehyung had already surveyed the beach house. Plenty of rooms for one man, pantry was bare except some non perishables in the fridge, enough clothes that were a size too big on Taehyung and a view directly to the ocean. Of course, he would have to buy new clothes for himself ad=nd settle in for quite some time.

Taehyung had lived the better half of his life, chasing and surviving; hard-wired to be on the edge, on the job, on his feet. He was always there to complete the tasks, kill a man or two, coverup the tracks, confront another few and exist in a limbo of nothingness. 

Vacations didn't mean much to him, especially when he was so focussed on his work, like a horse with blinders tied on to help with its focus on the racing track. He didn't have distractions, just a few drinks and cigarettes on real bad days of wanting to fill that emptiness within him. He had tried it all, never clinging on one, for he knew he would eventually disappoint everyone unless it was his work at play.

And so for this time, be in a week or a month, felt out of the ordinary to him. 

But, he would try to relax, doing his best at nothing.

And that would start with a coffee to keep himself awake after having woken up so suddenly at 4 and now with a dull headache, concentrated behind his eyes.

The little ding from the bells as he opened the door had the cashier of the cafe looking at his with a soft smile.

"Welcome! What can I help you with today?"

Taehyung hadn't been on a coffee run personally, having Minho buy his coffee almost everyday— the order engraved on the other's tongue. Minho was his assistant, driver, eyes on the street and a friend in this unlikely tango of life.

Taehyung shook his head and stared trying to figure out what to order. He was sure that having an iced americano now would be disaster to his already bursting head, but he hadn't really tried new flavours, not keen on changing the hardest routine he had found the easiest to follow. Complicated drink orders meant time and energy spent in figuring that out aka distractions.

Yeah, Taehyung might be slightly weird and uptight about his job, but he was serious and clean about it making him a good choice.

Yet, in all of this, the truth of him never giving himself small pleasures of life, the little things that make it better, had lingered uncomfortably. If anyone randomly saw his life as part of a show, they would call him miserable. Perhaps that was also part of the truth, but he had no time for that. He had no time for anything beyond his scheduled day's activities, keeping himself busy even on days he was forced to stay home for a break. Anything out of that line, be it a random walk in the park, a chocolate-covered donut with sprinkles, was frowned upon by himself. A restriction set in stone and so he stared at the menu, clearly lost.

"Do you need help?"
The soft voice spoke again.

"I'm not sure."
Taehyung replied, unsure of what was the appropriate response to that.

Yeah, if anyone hadn't caught on, Taehyung also had difficulty accepting help.

His mindset being too hard-wired on being independent and perfect, not wanting to lose on chances by appearing as someone who didn't know stuff. The best example for the extent of his behaviour was how he had stayed up till 1 at night, trying to memorise all the roads leasing to the big corporate building uptown,which was his fourth assignment on the job. He was clearly a newbie at this and yet the thought of disappointing the boss was immense for him to forgo his sleep for that.

So, it was difficult for Taehyung.

"Okay, how about this? I'll tell you our best sellers and maybe even let you in on my favourite and you can make a decision then."

Taehyung nodded slowly.

"Usually people go with a simple vanilla frappuccino or oat milk with honey macchiato or another one is a strawberry matcha latte. You can't go wrong with that honestly, that's my co-workers favourite drink. There's iced americano, but basic stuff and usually by those workaholic people travelling from Seoul."

Taehyung didn't try to correct this pretty barista that he too fell in that category, instead he listened intently.

"My favourite has to be peppermint mocha. It's comforting especially on stormy days here."

Taehyung wondered if this beautiful man with plush lips and blond hair knew that he was the embodiment of his favourite drink, said in a very respectful way.

"I need something decaf so um, maybe a decaf iced shaken expresso with toffee and vanilla shots please."
Taehyung said, after looking at the menu for a few more seconds. 

He thought about how it might have been rude not consider the choices that was laid out loud, but he really needed something a little on the sweeter side, out of the usual to get into normal behavious of sorts.

"Oh! Great choice. Anything to eat?"

"I'll have one of that please."
Taehyung said, pointing to the chicken sandwich on display.

"I'll heat it up for you in a minute, meanwhile you can pay using the scanner. The total is right there."
The other said, ringing it up on the tiny monitor.

"Can I do cash instead?"

"Oh okay sure."
A little surprised, but the man took the cash and gave back the change, except Taehyung refused it muttering, 'Take it for your tips.'

As he sat back in one of the corners of the cafe, slowly taking in the surroundings, he looked around for customers. There were two old ladies chatting up and a man working on his laptop. He looked on to see how different this small beach side town was to the ever-bustling, noisy Seoul where he grew up.

This was calming- the waves gentle sound echoing through the distance, the smell of fresh salt mixing in with the scents of cakes and coffees, people who moved about slowly and cautiously, and overall a soothing atmosphere, enough to lower the raised hackles of being alert and perfect. Taehyung waited, as he tried to make the next of his plan. 

He would have to ask for the nearest phone store, and then maybe use that for GPS and find a clothes store, groceries too. He had a lot planned for the day as it would seem. Before, he could think of what after that, the same barista entered his field of vision with a plate of chicken sandwich and his drink.

"Enjoy your meal!"
The other said, bowing slightly.

"Thank you."

The smell of perfectly heated and seasoned chicken invaded his senses before he could even take the sandwich in his hands. Taking eager bites of the food, he felt his stomach's queasy feeling from being hungry for so long cease quietly. One sip of the coffee and his body cooled down instantly with a blas of sweet on his tongue.

After his meal was done, he decided to ask the barista who was the only one he interacted with since he entered Yeongsang. Fortunately, the man was kind enough to entertain his questions without intruding.

"There's one main phone store, just go straight from here, one right and again straight. Then when you see 'Barnacles and books' which has a big kuromii sticker on the front glass, take a left and you'll reach it. Just say that Jimin sent you and she'll strike you a good deal."

"Jimin?"

"Right, I didn't introduce myself. Park Jimin, at your service."

And for some reason, Taehyung just thought of perfectly that name fit the other. There was something unique about this man, a little magical, perhaps the blond hair that reminded him of tinkerbell for god knows what reason or the mannerisms that just fit. 

"Klimt here, nice too meet you."

Taehyung introduced himself, saying the first name that came to his head. He had already used Sanwook earlier and he just didn't want to ty his luck again. Using his real name with a complete stranger felt too careless and the only option available was this. 

To his grace, Jimin didn't question the unusal name for a man who looked korean enough to have a better suited name, and the shorter just smiled brightly.

"You'll get your things there, and if you need some entertainment in this small town, be sure to get some books. They're plenty good ones!"

"Thank you again."
Taehyung said, a tiny smile of gratitude on his face.

"Hopefully see you again, Klimt-ssi."

Taehyung didn't know what but he had already filed to come back again next week. Not to meet the barista, but rather for the food. It was delicious and if seeing the barista was a perk then, so be it.

He had left the car back at the beach house, seeing how people might mistake him with the association to that vehicle, especially with the affluency it came with. And right now, he really needed to blend in, be one with the crowd to avoid suspicion. And so he had walked to this cafe he saw while entering the town, as the closest public space to food and people.

Taehyung followed the directions to the phone store which had a girl, typing away on her laptop behind the register. 

"Hi, I would like to buy a phone."
Taehyung said, looking around at the models on display.

"Of course, that's why you came here."
The girl said, rolling her eyes as she got off from her place to face him.

"A basic model, cheaper end, just calls and messages with 3G internet connection at best."

She stared at him with suspicious eyes as 3G wasn't really in production since 5 or 6 years, but there were a few in the back. Fortunately, she found one that fit the description and so bringing it up front to him.

"This is the best one I've got."

"Yeah, I'll take it."
Taehyung said, pulling out his wallet.

"You aren't going to check? What a strange man!"
The girl said, entering the digits in for processing. She hadn't seen many customers not inspect their purchase with careful hands. Well, she hadn't seen any. 

"I've been told."
Taehyung chuckled, looking at the girl with a tilted smile.

"Anyways, I do need a SIM as well. And I'm assuming this comes with charger and earphones?"

"Yeah, it does. And I'll get that one too."

Taehyung had half the mind to just leave from there, phone be damned. Maybe it was the decaf kicking in or the change in his routine, but he really needed to sleep, despite the plans he had made.

"You aren't from here, are you?"
The girl asked, curiously as she took out a SIM from the drawer.

"No, Jimin from the cafe near the beach sent me here actually."

When Taehyung mentioned that man's name, there was a flicker of recognition and more in the girl's eyes, something that stuck with Taehyung as he waited for her to ask for his personal details and more to get it activated.

But that never came, instead came a simple question of which english alphabet he preferred most.

"Huh? How is that—"

"Either give me one or I'm giving it as an F."
She muttered, glaring at him with a frown.

"Fine, V I guess?"

And within seconds, the card was activated and put in the phone. Before he could even ask what had happened and how come she didn't take his details— though, admittedly it was the false identity card with a name he had no clue of after having just stuffed in his pocket during one of his missions— she just mentioned the price.

Taehyung just stared for a few seconds trying to assimilate the situation.

"You aren't going to answer any questions, are you?"

Scrutinising gaze directed to the girl who looked more annoyed by each passing minute.

"Do you want a functioning phone or not? If yes, then it's done and you just have to pay for it. I literally took the effort to get it done, so you get on with the payment now."

Taehyung quietly paid the amount and got out of there, hoping to unpack and learn more about his phone back in the beach house. The groceries could wait for now, maybe till tomorrow if he pushed it. There was just no way he could haul his groceries in this sudden state of drowsiness. And with the chicken sandwich settling wonderfully, his yawns increased by frequency. Right when the sun hit from above him, all he could feel was the exhaustion catching up to him rather than feeling sweaty and heated.

So, the best thing he could was perhaps get to bed, despite his eyes calling to the cute bookstore that had quite a few number of customers as opposed to what he had assumed of this small town.

(He would come back to the bookstore tomorrow after grabbing the essential groceries for sure! And maybe take a few mangas for entertainment through his days here. He had a personalised list from Hyojin after an off handed comment during one of their missions. Taehyung didn't mean for it to be taken seriously, except he was made to sit through a lecture of how good one of those series was, courtesy  Hyojin .

And so buying them would finally help him connect with the other's avid self. Hanging out with older men at work had made him forget that he was still 29.)

For now though, he needed sleep preferably in an air-conditioned room with the view of the beautiful sea. The early morning drive and the stress from past week had totally worn him out and coming here, to this serene place was that trigger to let go. His eyes were near dead as he made his way back miraculously. Locking the doors, he fell to a dreamless sleep instantly.

And the last thought in his mind was how the town had been slightly strange, especially how the phone store girl has reacted to the cafe barista's name.

Chapter Text

There was an old tale, known to all, one that reeked of precaution and hideous ways of this world. It went something like this,

A village so prosperous that the gods above were jealous, existed peacefully. Crops in abundance, happy laughs and clear water flowing through the fields. It was prosperous in all the categories that made an impact. The people were kind, ever-giving and good-natured by all means. And yet despite all the pureness in their hearts, they were humans. Humans who didn't know better, who didn't pick their battles right, and humans who were ready to risk it all for a mere nectar from the sweetest fruit on the planet.

Or so they were told, none of them having seen it.

It was the word of mouth, one traveller to another until it reached them, the people of the south. Ravenous thoughts and wanting hands as its supposed effects were discussed. 

Longevity, one that extended to numbers beyond what they had learnt to count. Riches, one in amounts that could be enough for them to swim in. Sustenance, one beyond what their stomachs could fill on. 

They could live that life, filled with leisure and rest, like how the gods did in their drapes and jewels.

One unfortunate day and the village head had made it his mission to fight for the rightful possession of what he thought belonged to him, as compared to the great deities above. And the next day, they were climbing the huge snowy mountains to get to that tree which produced that golden fruit of joy. 

But alas, they died along the way. Tragic and bloody as their limbs fell through and their lungs gasped for air. The conditions being far too bad for any human to trek, and yet, the next day the next batch of humans from that village left to gain that sweet nectar. 

Hunger for something unknown and unseen consumed them like no other.

Packed bags on their shoulders with bare essentials as they matched out of the village. It continued over and over until all that was left in the village were children of young with no one to fend for them. Helpless souls looking for someone to help them, care for them like how they had been in the past months. 

The prosperity in the village ceased as the humans left it unattended. The evils plunged the ground, seeking it all out like scavengers and the gods could only watch the foolishness unfold. Evil in all its forms of soulless eyes and dragging limbs. Picking apart what was left as the frightened ones waited for their parents. They were dumb and the gods couldn't help as they left their precious children at the hands of untrained. 

They died for nothing, their greed and entiltment pulled them to their graves early. And the crowd mentality of falling one by one into the well with unseen bottom moss had been stupid of them, following something that didn't exist.

It was done, nothing to undo their deaths. And so the tale was left as a precaution by the mouths of those surviving younglings. 

The story might have been the most absurd one that Taehyung had ever heard, but he loved it all the same, for he could still hear his grandmother's husky voice narrating it with added effects. A tale that had been born out of dire need for children to understand that the world shall always have things that you would desperately want, but there must always be thought twice, before pursuing while also retaining your individuality and thoughts. Simple in its ways, as nothing left for morality when your life was at stake. 

Taehyung knew that it was simple, no bigger moral than the fact that one should always prioritise their needs, not fall to their selfish wants, and be one with caution on everything that sounded unreal. 

Unreal like how this town had been.

It was small at first, when he had finally taken up on the offer to visit the bookstore in the town. He was welcomed to the familiar smell of old books and vintage items that were stored in his dead grandfather’s storage unit before it all went up in flames. Something he still mourned for those were the only physical thread connecting him to his family tree that had slowly died and withered.

The colours were warm yet colourful in muted tones, fitting into the stereotypical bookstore aesthetics. The stickers on the glass with cute animals had him cooing internally, as he strolled in just looking for something fun. There were a few teenagers, clearly bunking their schools to be there and a few ladies by the fictional section. Not as crowded as that day.

“Looking for something in particular?”
A sweet voice shook him from his surroundings’ assessment, involuntary in new places all from years of training as an assassin.

His eyes caught onto the source of that voice being a man of similar height to his, long curls framing his face— purposefully created by the looks of it, given the slight burn of the curler on his neck, eyes that were covered by a pair of round-framed glasses, folded sleeves enough for the arm tattoos to peek out, wonderfully contracting his milky skin.

He was handsome for a mere bookstore worker.

And a good smelling one too, if the scent of vanilla and fresh lilies that clung to his skin and the 5 feet radius of him were any sign.

“Um, yeah just checking the place out.”
Taehyung muttered, subtly checking the purple, grey, black and white coloured pin against the man’s apron which had a name, likely his, ‘Jungkook.’

“Well, if you have any questions, you know whom to find. Have fun and hope you find something worthwhile.”

There was a smile on his lips, one that had Taehyung unconsciously grinning back at him, an infectious smile. Something about this man reminded him of the barista he had met yesterday.

Taehyung simply took to the rows of books kept, searching for some manga that was already recommended to him, quite a popular one as it would seem. He found it in the first look, under a shelf named ‘used books’ , the green background staring back at him and with a tite that intriguing, he couldn’t really pass it on, could he?

He walked past the other shelves brimmed with multiple albums and records, all of the recent releases, ones that weren’t as familiar to Taehyung’s old school taste. He did grab a ‘Kind of Blue’ record for the saxophone player back in the beach house, albeit dusty by condition—easily fixable. And with that, he got to the counter to check it out.

There was another man behind the counter, one with long hair much like the other guy here. Though, this was blondish-white by colour and a few black highlights, the man had a slightly guarded expression, one so unlike the welcoming aura Jungkook had. His face was covered by a mask but his eyes were sharp as he pressed the keys on his computer to enter it.

“Are you the owner?”
Taehyung asked, not knowing what overcame him to even initiate the conversation knowing very well to keep low-profile.

“What gave it away?”
The other’s voice came out muffled.

If Taehyung could crush over someone’s voice—something he never did or planned on doing— it would be this man’s voice. The deep undertones with the gentleness unseen really had it going for him. But that was weird, and he wouldn’t. Instead, he would definitely love hearing this man’s ASMR as he fell asleep.

That was definitely less creepy.

“I can’t pinpoint exactly, just had to ask.”

Taehyung didn’t mention how he was eyeballing it here, something he hadn’t done given how every move he had made was based on minutes of calculation, right angles leading to the right results. But, there was something confident about this man, something unique and maybe it was his years of experience chalking upto this conclusion but he was definitely wrong.

That and well, the lack of his pin stating his name.

“Name’s Yoongi. And if you have any complaints it’s to be told to my co-owner, Jungkook. I’m not in-charge of customer care, more of backend guy.”
The man introduced himself, slightly lowering his mask enough for his nose and mouth to be seen.

Taehyung had to severely hold in the train of thoughts that threatened for a physical reaction. There was intimidation in those mismatched eyes, fierce in his pupils but the nose, god, the nose was chomping material. 

And that scared the living shit out of Taehyung, who had never thought of anything remotely close to this. He wasn’t the cutesy guy who fawned over adorable babies and cry over romantic movies. That was more of Minho’s thing.

Shit, this town was turning him insane, and he wasn’t even two days in.

“Hyung, you really need to work on that. Also stop leaving this pin everywhere. You know how seokie hyung had it custom-made for us.”
Jungkook’s voice came in, as he came from the back door with a blue, pink and purple pin with Yoongi’s name in quite the similar font as Jungkook’s.

“Oh hey, I didn’t expect you to be a yuri reader, really expected you more on the lines of haikyuu.”
Jungkook said, looking at the book on the table.

“Ah well, I am not sure of the content in here, just a friend’s rec. Not really a manga reader, but yeah.”
Taehyung hesitantly said, as he looked behind Jungkook to stare at one of the pressed flower bookmarks hanging for display.

Yoongi seemed to notice his gaze and he soon picked one up, the one with yellow dandelions dehydrated and pressed into one of the most delicate things he had ever seen. Taehyung was ready to protest against it, saying he didn’t quite need it for his keys and sauce packets (sealed extras, cause he was careful) did the job quite well, but Yoongi spoke up again.

“On the house.”

“That only exists in eateries, Yoongi.”
Jungkook said, laughing gently.

“Well, here I make the rules and I’m giving this to you free of cost. Think of it as your welcoming gift.”
Yoongi’s smug voice responded.

Taehyung could feel his senses go off at the mention of welcoming gift, something about it was wrong, one that he couldn’t quite place it on. He hadn’t mentioned or even suggested that he had just come to the town recently. Welcoming. 

“Welcoming?”

“It’s your first time here, isn’t it?”

The tilt in Yoongi’s voice could have meant anything. Maybe an innocent word, customer communication at hand to make them loyal to the store, especially paired with the soft smile. But, something felt off about it as if insinuating that it was Taehyung’s first time in this town, in their land, in their jurisdiction and not just the bookstore.

But, Taehyung was going to give him the benefit of doubt. 

“At this rate, we’re losing money to our business. But eh, I wouldn't blame you for that.”
Jungkook snorted, tapering off at the end as his eyes traversed up and down Taehyung, as if admiring a piece of art.

Taehyung felt his cheeks warm in response. He was used to people secretly admiring him, more on the lines of his craftsmanship of taking ten people down at once, but never for his physique or personal taste in fashion. That was new, that was exhilarating and that was seemingly his people (connection)-deprived self talking.

“Can I pay in cash?”
Taehyung asked instead, steering the conversation back.

“Sure, you will have to give a deposit beforehand if you are planning to return it. Each day costs about 1/10th of the deposit.”
Yoongi muttered, eyes focussed on the computer.

“Okay, yeah I’ll pay for the record fully though, as in buying please.”

“That’s for sale, no returns unless damaged within warranty period.”
Jungkook replied, a little giggle accompanying his words.

“I didn’t know they had that for records.”
Taehyung said, baffled by the slightest as he gave the exact money counted down to Yoongi.

“You would be surprised.”

Packing the book, record and bookmark in a neat carry bag, Yoongi passed it to Taehyung after the transaction, bill in the bag as the two owners of the store gave the best customer satisfactory retail smile they could muster—one that didn’t really fit them, if Taehyung was honest, but he would take anything. 

And soon, he walked out of the place with a content heart and a tiny dent in his pocket. 

But, he knew he was going to love the items of purchase all the same. He also walked out of there with a sense of thrill in his heart for his skills hadn’t yet given up on him despite not bein active on the scene for about two weeks too long.

He was right about this town being weird.

If it wasn’t for his sharp eye, he wouldn’t have noticed the glint of the shiny blade under Yoongi’s apron when he reached over the counter to give the carry bag, so alike the piercings against his eyebrow from the artificial light above them. 

Or how Jungkook’s scent had an undertone of sulphur , very faint after having scrubbed down hard, but just enough for an assassin’s nose to catch on. 

After all, he had smelt it on himself after multiple cartridges of the rifle were discarded, thus resulting into having that pungent scent fill his senses one too many times.

After all, it takes a skilled assassin to know another of his kind.

On the third day of his stay in this small town, he was more set on staying by beach than interacting the crowd in the town. Not because they were a ravenous bunch like back in Seoul, but after having lived with limited exposure to people, unless it was his job, he really didn’t have it in him to go beyond his circle.

And that circle was nowhere to be found here.

He would soon return to that life, his normal life just after all this died down.

And so the best option would rest up by the beach, read that manga, sip on some fresh lemonade he had made just that morning and then perhaps, finally address the lack of being human in his own skin.

If given a chance , he would definitely like to postpone that last bit.

After having settled beneath a huge tree for some shade, Taehyung looked out at the vast water body that glittered from the sun above, little speckles of shine in between the waves. It was going to be peak midday in some hours and that meant the heat would get to him if he didn’t take precautions.

One move to get off his shirt and then another slather himself with sunscreen because he was responsible like that.

Good thing, there was no one else in his view except a few kids at a distance, at least a good 50 metres away from him. No one to see his struggle of putting sunscreen on his back— quite a difficult task for one, when his limbs were long, just not long enough.

With all his attention now focussed on the book in hand, animated expressions and funny dialogues between the characters, he tried not to be affected by the glaring sun. He knew it was going to be uncomfortable, especially since he lately preferred things that were done indoors than in the scorching sun.

But, his luck turned quite well as the passing clouds provided enough respite for him to continue his business of being absorbed in the manga for the next hour or so.

That was until he needed to rest his eyes, as he looked on beyond the horizon, now with a few more people by the shore and some stalls up higher.

Stretching his limbs, he yawned slowly, feeling sleepier than before, perhaps it was the pleasant warmth or the tiring nature of being by the beachside. But, he willed himself to stay on longer. He had already missed out on so much, he wasn’t going to sleep his way through the only vacation he had gotten in a decade or so. His mind running speeds unknown, trying to figure how he had missed on living life as is, after being swapped with all that bloody business of his.

And before he could spiral to abysses farther, a disruption in solitude occurred.

Praise be to the universe, because that chance he had hoped for came sooner than wished.

“Might be rude of me, but do you think you have a few minutes to spare?”
The voice came from above him, as Taehyung looked up from his own wringing hands to see the most gorgeous man he had ever seen in his life.

And believe him, when he says that he’s seen a lot of people.

The man towering over him had the most symmetrical face ever, plush lips, almond eyes, and hair pushed back enough for his forehead to be seen which seemingly affected Taehyung more than he would like to admit. But more than that, was the loose obnoxiously loud coloured shirt he was wearing which didn’t do much hiding.

Well you see, when this god-like man stood in between Taehyung and his view of the ocean which also happened to be a reflection of the sun’s beaming light, his silhouette seen through the shadows was pretty telling.

It wasn’t Taehyung’s fault that his eyes immediately went to the other’s waist, a tiny thing really, something that he could easily wrap his—

Red hot by his own thoughts, he looked down back to his book.

“Hello? You can just say no, you know?”
The man spoke again, voice equivalent to that of fallen angels singing the tunes of their lost ruins.

And Taehyung did realise that he hadn’t really answered the man albeit a moment later.

“No, I mean, yes, I’m free.”
Taehyung replied, one hand shadowing his eyes from the glare while he stared back up at the man.

“Oh, the sun. I forget not everyone is used to this.”

Saying so, the man crouched down to the same level as him and that didn’t do anything in Taehyung’s favour as all the alarms for damage control blared in his head. This angel was even more handsome up close, right up close because if Taehyung turned his head more to his left he could probably count the light freckles on his skin.

“Well, I just need your help in keeping my wallet and sunglasses safe while I go for a swim.”

“I’m a stranger.”
Taehyung announced, a little taken aback.

“Okay stranger, I’m Seokjin. Pleased to meet you.”

Despite the running thoughts of ‘what the fuck was happening right now?’ one surprisingly large part of Taehyung was pleased to now have a name to this face that could have had hundreds building marble statues in the honour of his beauty. Dumb as it was, he felt himself roll that name on his tongue to be familiar with it.

“No, but how do you trust me that I will not steal this?”
Taehyung asked, bewildered and curious at the same time.

As someone who had always looked for himself, never letting things out of his sight for there was always a threat outside, it was fascinating to see someone openly trust him with things like his identity. He could never do that, much less hand it out when he could hardly use his real name when asked for a mere coffee order.

Apart from that was also his overall issue with trust after one too many incidents where he had burned his hand to a crisp, so it wasn’t really wild of him to assume the worst. Choi Yang had drilled it in his head to never be as giving, as open with his feelings, as wonderstruck as he had been when he was a kid.

His grandmother had admired his child-like innocence, his eager eyes and his reaching hands towards a future so unlike his imagination for this reality was cruel and dark, filled with blood hungry monsters.

If she was alive now, she wouldn’t recognise the man he had become. But she wasn’t, he had to do whatever it took to be this.

“I think we, as humans, need to trust each other a little more. It’s the only way we can survive through life, don’t you think? Too much distrust is breaking societies, isolating everyone. After all, how can I eat a meal in a restaurant if I don’t trust the chef not to poison me?”
Seokjin murmured and Taehyung despite all his caution was entranced by those words.

The man was a good speaker, confident in words and charming in his tone. How could he not take these simple, non-harmful words as just ones spoken out of knowledge? 

But there was that nagging part of him that cautioned him to not fall into the lair, not give into the words spoken for whatever Seokjin may have muttered, he was still a goddamn stranger, much less one who doesn’t know of Taehyung’s illegal activities. 

That was the same part that kept on about Jimin in the cafe, Jungkook and Yoongi in the bookstore.

He couldn’t trust anyone.

“Plus, I have eyes on you. Take one wrong step and I can hunt you down in seconds.”
Seokjin said, winking charismatically.

Taehyung took a minute to fully register that, blinking slowly— dulled senses likely from the heat. But before he could ask who or what, Seokjin was off to the water after having gotten rid of that obnoxious shirt with a shout.

“I’ll be back in ten minutes, yeah?”

Taehyung shamelessly stared, pushing back the danger signals in his head, likely from the choice of words that Seokjin had used. Seokjin’s gorgeous back was in full view as the splash’s sound was heard loud enough for Taehyung. There was a threat in those words, loud and clear.

And Taehyung chose to ignore them for it could just be the flamboyant exaggeration on the other’s part, something that he had noticed with all the dramatized dialogues and confident stance.

Instead, he stared at the endless blue beyond him, enjoying it in all its shades. The sleep that had graced him earlier was nowhere to be found, as he was suddenly more awake after Seokjin’s arrival. He leaned his head back, eyes sneakily scanning the place or just the act of noticing his environment after having stuck his head in that book for so long.

Perhaps his own instincts keeping his eyes peeled in anticipation of uncertain danger in his way.

One that wasn’t seen, but felt. Maybe one that may never take its course, but he would rather be safe than sorry.

Seokjin did come back before he could think of a plan to escape in case of any misfires in whatever conversation they had earlier. Except the man walked over all cheery with a wide smile, soaked shorts on his body and wet hair covering half his face until he pushed it back again. 

Glorious forehead in sight.

“Wanna join for a swim? I mean, you are already half-naked.”
He proposed, hand reaching for the metal water bottle he had brought along with his personal items.

“Who will look after your belongings?”
Taehyung asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“Don’t worry. I did say I have eyes on you, and by extension those.”

“Then, why did you ask me?”

“That was just an excuse to talk to you.”

Seokjin’s words and the smirk that followed with that did make Taehyung’s eyes go wider, a little flutter in his heart, unknowing as to why he felt so. He had experience flirting with people, being delightfully attractive to others and never had he been the receiver of such proclamations earlier. 

Seokjin had been so smooth with that, an excuse on the tip of his tongue so readily available for use, one that had anyone weak in the knees. Of course, Taehyung being love-deprived did make it harder on him, never working his way through friends outside of his business.

In other words, Minho was his only friend with whom he would trust his life with.

But, they were never this. All of this casualness of being a stranger, using excuses to be the one to talk when Seokjin had no profit, no business with him. They were strangers, barely acknowledged until this very moment, so why would he do that?

What a strange man Seokjin was!

But, Taehyung did let Seokjin grab his hand as they ran to jump into the ocean. Crooked fingers were tightly wound against his wrist so as to not lose him in the vastness of the water. The first dunk into the cooler water, at least in comparison to the heat of the ever-absorbing sand was relieving.

He stayed down for a moment longer, eyes shut tight to not let the salt water invade his eyes. But he was soon shook and puled up by Seokjin, who looked at him with slightly worried eyes, discreet but there.

“Thought, I drowned you for a second. You know swimming, right?”

Taehyung nodded, making the other sigh in relief and then it was back to cooling themselves off as they floated on top of the water. Seokjin didn’t let up his wrist again, just precautions he mentioned. But that was weird, according to Taehyung. Whose precautions when he didn’t mean anything to this absolute unfamiliar person who didnn’t even know his name, yet.

His world drifted as the dun hid behind big clouds that looked like they would rain down hard in the coming days at least. Seokjin became secondary for minutes, as he focussed on himself, the feel of water on his back and it creeping inside his ears— a sensation he absolutely despised with all his heart, the chill that ran up his spine with the feel of something brushing his feet.

He focussed on everything apart from his thoughts that thundered within him.

Again praise to be the universe, or perhaps it was Seokjin who should be thanked for Taehyung was once yanked upright and had a conch shell placed in the cup of his two palms with an instruction.

“Take this and keep it close to your ear.”

“You still believe in the myth?”
Taehyung chuckled, now fully aware of where he was.

The myth of the conch shells was that a person, pure of heart and deeply in tune with the ocean and water, shall be able to hear the spirits of those who died in those waves. They would be able to hear the goddesses speak to them directly, whispering the secrets of lost cities and beautiful underworlds unseen to human kind.

Well, it was just a myth for most parts.

“Ah, enough of the questions and just listen.”

Taehyung reluctantly took the shell near to his ears only to hear the reverberating sounds of the waves, amplified by the echo-able walls in the shell. Just basic physics of frequency and resonance at play.

“...nothing.”

“ You aren’t listening close enough. Give that to me.”
Seokjin said, waddling closer to take the shell back.

They had moved back to the shore during that conversation, a slow progression, unintentional but needed since Taehyung really believed he had his fun for the day. All he needed to do now was put on that shirt and slippers, walk back to the beach house and rest on the hay.

Except Seokjin had plans.

“Hear that? The ocean wants you to join me for a drink.”
Seokjin said, eyes mischievous as his smile turned brighter and more smug.

Taehyung just stared back, involuntary practised deadpan face in full force— something his boss had complimented him on for that face was unrecognisable to read, emotions covered so well that there was mind tactics played by the other end. 

“Oh c’mon, this has worked on all of my people. Well, most. This is the worst response I’ve ever got.”
Seokjin petulantly groaned, a little pout on his lips.

“No, I mean that was good. Was that a pickup line for a date?”
Taehyung said, slowly breaking into a laugh of sorts.

That joke was dumb, childishly so, but refreshing in its sense that Taehyung had never heard that directed towards anyone, much less him. He gotta give props to this guy for trying his luck.

(Well, Taehyung wouldn’t say it out loud because relationships were off limits for him, again a personal choice given the mess it leads to—all the lies, the heartbreak, the sneaking, the danger and everything in between. But, if he was honest, he really didn’t think that this beautiful man of all people would use this on him. 

Don’t blame him for not knowing that people wanted him. Taehyung knew he was attractive, charming and efficient, but the first hand experience was still surreal.)

“Anything you want it to be really. I think we can just start off as drinkpals.”
Seokjin said, shoulder slung on Taehyung’s as they put on their shirts not fully drying off their backs.

“C’mon now, we need to get to the bar before it gets crowded.”

As Taehyung collected it all up in his arm and walked up to the road, thinking about how he really ought to have a bag for such things, they were stopped by the voice of another man, one who seemed to know Seokjin all too well.

“Hyung, we’ve gotta set up— oh, who’s this?”

And what Taehyung saw was an absolutely pretty man who looked like he had walked straight out of a magazine.

(Seriously, what was with all the men he met? They shouldn’t be allowed to be so pleasing to his eyes. Did not one person care what it might do to Taehyung?)

The man’s alluring smile caught his attention first, beautiful lips curved till his eyes were little fishes swimming in the ocean. And his style was impeccable, gorgeously flawless skin, hair in a half ponytail and sweat down his eyebrows.

Which was wiped off by Seokjin’s hands, seeing how the other was unable to do so with the goods in his hands.

“My new drinking buddy since you refuse to come on any with me, Hoseok-ah.”
Seokjin replied, pulling Taehyung closer which made his shirt stick uncomfortably to his body.

“Hyung, my tolerance is shit with alcohol. Plus didn’t you just go out with minnie yesterday?”
Hoseok, as called by Seokjin, whined, heaving the bags up to the truck parked aside.

“That kid’s tolerance is off the roof, even surpassing gi’s and I’m not going against him ever again.”

“Stop calling him a kid, it’s weird when you call your—”
Hoseok stopped quite suddenly and as Taehyung noticed it was from Seokjin's subtle eye glare which had promoted the same.

A silent conversation of sorts took place between them. One that wasn't privy to Taehyung.

“Fine, now will you come help set these up, ahjumma’s waiting on us.”
Hoseok said, crossing his arms in front of his chest as the two of them had an eye staring contest.

“You don’t have any value for my reputation especially when I’m the one who offered this beautiful man a drink.”
Seokjin murmured, a little dramatic hand wave accompanying it.

“Oi, you’re finally here. All three of you, come on, help me tie these.”
Another voice joined in, one that was old and weathered down.

And by the contextual clues of it,that would be the old lady they were talking about earlier. Seokjin made a mouse of disappointment but went ahead to grab the cardboard boxes and put them in the background of the truck with easy strength.

“Ah, I’m not—”
Taehyung tried explaining himself only to be shut by the older lady quickly.

“Nonsense, come on. I’ll give you extra nice dried fish pickles and watermelons too.”

“Sorry to pull you in, but we’ll be done soon.”

“Her pickles are really tasty!”

The other two struggle companions of his in this tried pacifying him or well, explaining himself in the case of Seokjin. And with three pairs of hands the job was done much quicker and more efficiently. Taehyung had to just tie the covering to protect all the items in the back from toppling due to any rash movement of the truck or from being destroyed by the elements of nature at play.

The nice lady did give him good snacks, watermelon to munch on back home and as the experience of it settled back in his head, he could feel himself being his younger self. A younger Taehyung who would help around with his neighbours back in his hometown when his grandmother would let him play outside, which usually ended up with them rewarding him and this leasing to full tummies before dinner. 

He was carefree, all too loving and helpful. He was different back then, the weight of the world on his shoulders didn't pull him down until he struggled to crawl on it. He was happy, just present in a world that was more of being kind than wondering if there was a scheme behind those actions. 

Oh, how he misses his childhood!

Hoseok and Seokjin, on the other hand, did aid in the experience by talking about different things mostly about the town and its people, gossips they heard in the farmer's market area being exchanged while also actively engaging him in conversation as the ahjumma, Mrs. Park drove the truck to her home which was a kilometre and little more away. 

Taehyung was mostly happy that he got an unintentional ride back to his place. He wondered how he thought of walking all the way back, given how tired he had been. 

“Gonna have to raincheck on that drink date, but I'll see you around yeah?”

Seokjin had said, before hugging him goodbye and walking towards the town along with Hoseok. Taehyung wasn't all too sure about meeting Seokjin again but then he remembered this was Yeongsang and not Seoul where the population was high enough for people to not just run into each other out of nowhere. 

Saving a goodbye, he walked a little more to reach to the place assigned as safe house. Dumping all his things aside, he took a quick shower and hit the bed. The last thing he thought of was about Seokjin and Hoseok. He would just reminisce the conversations they had, despite the strangeness it held. 

That was at least until he ran into that peculiar human again.

“You’ve gotta give it up to him though.”
A rough voice spoke which had someone else laughing all too loudly.

“Sure, his adventures are well-known, especially with the stunts pulled. But, he’s lacking in his skills as of late. This was the first misstep he has experienced, but won’t be his last.”
An easily identifiable woman’s voice rang through the place.

A hum of agreement in the dark, damp room echoed as there was another beer bottle opened with a fizz. The shadows of the people in the room was easily seen on the concrete pavement outside, the light following its path outside the room through the window. All this while the night sky was dimmed with no sign of the moon in place. 

A dark night, as it would seem and by the likes of it, a rough one at that.

“I mean, the stones that don't roll gotta collect some moss. And in his case, the moss is poisonous.”
Another woman said with the confidence of giving an ultimatum.

“Nerd.”
Another voice scoffed which was accompanied with the clink of glasses. 

“She ain’t wrong. Stagnant water is hardly ever good news. You would know that better than anyone. The hurdles in place for him aren’t made to challenge his wits.”
The first guy muttered, lips smacking in thought.

“That water nearly made me see the lord in all his glory, never again with those pesky insects and looming waters.”

“I wish Yang could see that, I mean the man is old and honestly, it’s not too late before he goes soft.”
The woman said, getting a groan in response.

“That bastard really postponed the plans over his wife. Knew that love always poses a threat in such worlds of ours and yet, he went ahead with that…being a family man and all.”

“Can’t fault him though.”
The other one said, popping in a grape.

“Just say you’re a disgusting sappy romantic.”

Gagging sounds came through with another holler of laughter which was much well received by the said man.

“And with Yang’s daughter growing up, he would definitely want to distance himself from the business. Honestly, thought he would take a break during her birth.”

“He had unfinished business with the Parks. But, the chance of his right hand man succeeding his post is high. And they know the eyes that are on them, so they’re likely keeping a low profile.”
The man said, putting his glass down.

“Too low of a profile, given no one has traced him yet. Boss is getting angsty over that and the team on ground has to move faster. Fast enough before he catches on.”

“ Taehyung may be the best there is, but everything eventually falls over especially when he was never meant to be there in the first place.”

There was a shout from someone else and the dispersal of those gathered under the small yellow light of the room was quick. Fast feet moving in at the beck and call of another, a phone call on the line. The dingy little room in the basement stunk of treachery and cruelty over long lost feuds. Over promises held between people unrelated and more.

Meanwhile, a few thousand miles away was the same man in question, reliving the last day he had held hope in his eyes.

Reliving it through the lens of his subconscious and its varied tools of bringing it to life by dreams.

‘How was school today?’
The frail lady’s voice quietly echoed in the house.

A house, that was what had become of their home. A shelter from the rain and winds during the monsoon and nothing more. There was love in each corner of the place before, but now all that was left of it were holes in the roof which had been unrepaired for ages and corners easily housing mold from disuse.

The younger boy came in, keeping his school bag aside as he sat by the bedside, quite ratty by structure. But the state of the bed wasn’t of concern as he held her hand gently.

‘It was good. I am doing well, my teacher asked me to say so to you.’

A white lie in place so obviously present for anyone else to notice and call him out on that, but not for the mother who was overjoyed by the news, a smile slowly forming on her lips. One smile that had zapped more energy from her than what her body could muster yet, she had done so.

Her love wanting to shine even in its dying glow.

‘Is that why they’re sending my Tae-yah back home so late?’

Clearly the evening glow that formed outside was seen through the reflection of her eyes. And clearly, despite her weakness she had noticed her son’s late arrivals home.

But, Taehyung couldn’t disclose his secret. If he could, he would take it to the grave, especially with his mother on the verge of death in a few more hours, perhaps minutes. 

The breaths were longer, deeper and certainly wobbly but he didn’t need a stethoscope to tell that. Her eyes devoid of the shine he had seen when he was a toddler jumping into her arms. Her shaking hand  trying to press in closer, like she was afraid of letting go just yet, the life in her wanting to stay for her son.

She was dying.

“Yeah, teacher-nim said I need extra classes in the achiever’s batch to improve.”

He lied yet again and maybe he would ask for forgiveness by confessing to the priest of a church he never visited, apologies and brooding guilt spilling from his red lips as he clutched on the wooden door like it was his lifeline.

“Good boy, you’re doing so well. I’m glad that you have turned out to be a man that your father would be proud of.”

Taehyung nodded, biting his tongue hard as he wondered if the gods above would forgive him for the sin of lying. But there was no god above, for if he existed, he wouldn’t take his dear mother away from him. 

There was no god whose ears heard his pleas.

He wouldn’t ask for forgiveness for he would rather have his mother live her last moments in joy, even if it was a paradise built on broken trust,

“Get me some water, please.”

Taehyung had never been so quick on his feet as he ran into the unkempt kitchen with messy dishes from last night and grabbed a clean cup filled with water for his mother. Easing her upright, he let her sip on it with a blissed face.

“I love you Taehyung-ah. I know you will always find a way to cherish the love inside you. I will look for you, even if I’m not physically there for you.”

That cherished love never stayed after that.

Hardened and ruthless of hearts fared better in war.

But, Taehyung tried keeping her wish eternally, as he watched the last of the painful air in her lungs leave her body completely. A dead mother was what he had now, truly an orphan with none of his family alive.

What a misery to live!

And that was the day a 15 year old Taehyung lost hope in the better of things, aimless purpose as he just went on a spree to kill that sadness within him—the rotting kind.

Taehyung woke to the noise of his new phone going off. It was loud on purpose, but he contemplated if that was a good choice, given that he had woken up at 2 in the morning. Quickly picking it up, he saw a message typed in with code words from an unknown number.

The strawberries are completely out of stock. 

Taehyung stared at the message, contemplating who might have sent it, given his number was new and the only person who knew of it was his boss. Confused by the words, he wracked his brain for any clues of these set of words used by him before, perhaps a single covert message codeword. But then came another message.

Might be later than expected, since the roads are blocked for transport.
Hold tight on that recipe.

The last word clicked everything in its place.

Taehyung knew that this was Minho for he was the only other person apart from Yang who knew of his secret stash of underground weaponry and wearables. That meant these messages were sent by Minho in anticipation of the blow over back in Seoul, a bad blowover as it would seem by the road block comment. 

He had to protect his stash, the one he carried along with him to Yeongsang for his own safety. 

Strawberry was his own nickname, never addressed to him till date but been famous due to his love for those red fruits. His love for tangy, fruity and sweet flavours had pulled him along so far. 

Something was majorly amiss if they had to use codewords that were buried a decade ago. After all, that was in his formative years in this world of crime where he had still clung to these childish tastes of fruits and interests. The older guys had teased him, all in good faith hands clung to shoulders as they taught him in the other aspects of carrying out a job/

One that didn’t just involve his skill with the knife or a gun.

But when he paced through the levels, rising quickly to one of the more respectable positions within the organisation, the chitter had vanished, reduced to nothing. His name was taken with respect on their tongues and eyes looking up at their much younger leader of the crew, awaiting instructions.

He had truly bloomed with the expertise of his skills, delegations of his mannerisms and thus, a general sense of integrity maintained.

Now, the use of strawberries brought back memories of the past, but there truly was nothing he could do until they called him, for the safety of everything not being tangled with the officials and government, much less that of rivaling gangs that awaited their downfall for an attack, was imperative without doubt.

Taehyung would wait until he was needed again.

(Even when his gut told another story, the feeling of something amiss was too strong to ignore.)

Chapter Text

“Please, stop it. H-hurting me. I can’t.”

“You should have thought of it before you went on to leak the documents.”

A gunshot in the air, piercing and loud.

Taehyung’s hands trembled as the gun in his hold was weakened and taken away by the familiar hands of Minho. His eyes were emptily staring at the limp body whose eyes were equally empty, only for different reasons. The blood that pooled under the dead body’s head had smeared and bled through the small distance until it reached past his own shoes.

“Snap out of it!”
Minho’s voice was harsher than expected, as the shake to his shoulders pulled him awake and away from the spot.

At least now he would only have to clean one of his shoe soles.

“Chaeyoung is there to take you home, Go and sleep off, meet me by the old amusement park tomorrow at 2 in the afternoon. No reporting to work.”
Minho’s instructions were clear as Taehyung walked to the black sleek car with tinted windows.

Chaeyoung had simply signaled at the box kept in the back seat. And the faint smell of porridge and meat had him guessing it was the older woman who had bought him dinner. The car ride back to his apartment was quiet at most, just her humming at times. Taehyung had wearily walked out when they reached with his hands clutching the steel box, no words exchanged.

He hadn’t finished the meal that night, just a few bites in and he had abandoned it on the kitchen top. Taehyung had chosen to sit by the window, staring at the sky, wondering how he had gotten the strength to make that shot. It was like that was another person who had done, a being within him that had the memory of this night and not really him.

That was his first kill, one that had to be done to one of his own.

A trusted person having to be killed by Taehyung’s bullet.

Park Namwoon.

Nine years ago, he had stood face to face with Namwoon, Minho behind him. Glared straight into the other’s unflinching eyes, until one of the men who was holding Namwoon’s body upright, kicked his shins, making him stumble with curses slipping past his lips.

It was Taehyung’s fifth mission, and none of the past kills had tugged his heart strings as much. None as powerful for he had no prior connection to them. None as heart wrenching for none of them had been his mentor.

But, this was Namwoon who had stood above him, guiding him to take the ropes, helping him understand the various workings of the system, as assigned by Choi Yang. Namwoon who had worked through his first mission and helped him gain footing. 

Until it went wrong. Horribly wrong.

Minho had been his closer, second mentor who had taught him the secrets, quieter but stable behind him, just like when he had to draw the weapon to Namwoon’s head. Sharp, precise and unnervingly so. 

Clean shot and the dead body rolled off from the hold of those behind Namwoon.

The next day when Taehyung had met Minho as prompted, there was a box given to him and words that were said to last him a lifetime. 

‘You need to let go of everything before this life. Any ounce of human behaviour, learnt or not, is harmful for here, it is blood and grim, endless in its ways. You are a killer, act like it. 

Your life is now limited to this violence and you shall persevere with only raw vigour and not hope; for hope has always been softer around the edges and you can’t afford that.

You need to pull yourself together and do the job, no mercy. 

The day you let go is the day you die.’

The box contained a tiny swiss army knife, equipped with multiple features and it had stayed in his pockets ever since. Words held even closer to his heart, and Taehyung made sure to remember them through the various phases of his life as a trained, successful gunman. An assassin whose aim was to kill and never look back.

The fire had forged him to be stronger, harder and sturdier than ever. 

And that was also the day the spark within him had died by sorts.

A spark of innocence, one that wanted to believe that there was good in the world, that trust was a one-time promise held up forever, that kindness shall lead you to better fruits, and that unconditional support existed in this hellhole. The innocence that begged for recognition had died.

No, now all that was left was rage and violence.

Blood-sealed fates, reopened wounds, grim adventures of dirt and anger, hardened shells that needed more to crack open and avenging matters beyond comprehension— after all, he was but a pawn in the bigger game. Another pay, another clog in the system, nothing more until he was the right-hand man.

But, he was still as dismissable, still as replaceable as ever.

He was never permanent, for there would always be someone better than him, more skilled than him, more worthier of the position than him.

After all, the field was never even and the competition was cut–throat, each ready with their weapon to slash the vein.

Taehyung had decided on this path nonetheless, having no other way to go. His essentials were covered by cost, a roof over his head, money to get him through, food to satisfy the hunger in him, and perhaps more to satisfy the insatiable hunger for more. 

More of that demonic hunger, that clawed for screams unheard, creeped at the smell of blood, growled at the sight of fear in the eyes of the intended. 

More of everything.

And above all, Taehyung had a purpose, something to occupy his time. Something to keep those hands busy when they threatened his own mind to choke the airway giving him life. Something to keep those eyes occupied, away from the memories that played in rewind every single damn moment of his day.

All the bills from before had been paid in prospect of him being of use for them, so what is more of that if he got the luxury of one stable apartment in his name and an identity that struck fear in others?

What more is his life if everything he knew and everyone he loved were no longer part of it?

What more had he got to lose? 

His life? He had given that up long ago, a soulless shell.

His education was as good as gone, only having finished what he could until his mother’s health deteriorated. He was nobody now, no degree to his name. He was intelligent, perhaps capable of coming in the top 10 of his class, but that was no longer an option, or even an opening to that opportunity.

Lost to time and chaos.

In the coming years, he wasn’t even sure what he wanted to become—the aspirations of 5 year old him had vaporised into thin air like they never existed. All those talks of becoming a pilot, a teacher, a garbage collecting man, a doctor, a milkman, and a police officer were all out and down the drain. 

Hell, he was even on the opposite spectrum of it.

He was in a fucking gang, organised crime that dealt with drugs, weapons and all kinds of posessions. He was an assassin, paid to kill, every million won cut for the time he spent more to make the kill. He was a hitman, hired to take someone out of existence, like they never fucking existed. 

He was far from being a good citizen, perhaps even a good human.

He was morally evil, wicked to the bone for he killed without hesitation like it was another job to be completed. He was the bad guy from all those stories he had heard from his grandmother’s mouth. He was never meant to be here, but he was here. So, the best shot at that was to adapt.

To make himself impenetrable.
To make himself irredeemable.
To make himself invincible.

Ruthless like the teeth on him were that of extinct saber-toothed cats, like the hands that wielded the sharp shot guns were a treasure lost, like everything he knew ended in slow poisoning of the little light in him. 

But the truth remained that he wasn’t anything like he wanted to grow up to be. 

If the younger him saw what he had become, he would be aggravated at the choices made, at the devastation caused by these very hands, at the sheer disappointment boiling within. 

Taehyung wasn’t the man any child would want to be, not even in their dreams.

It was funny, how he would have been in a completely different place if things weren’t as they were. 

Maybe if his father didn’t die early, Taehyung would have someone else to share the burden of his mother’s bills. Maybe if his mother didn’t get that diagnosis, she would still be alive and he would have got a proper job and led that happy life with a family of his own. Maybe if he hadn’t looked for a quick fix for the building debts, he would be going to a 9 to 5 job where his soul would be crushed with work but at least then he wouldn’t have to back track and wonder if his choices were right.

Perhaps then, Taehyung wouldn’t have been wondering if he was a good person.

The fig tree had endless possibilities in each of the fruit carried, but he had to be in this one, the unfortunate one.

The one where all his questions were unheard and unanswered. The one where his rotten side couldn’t dream of better days for they never existed in this lifetime. The one where he was an empty person, doing what he was told to, precise and neat. The one where he embraced his ugly side wholly and never looked beyond who he was. 

Because what else would he be if not the assassin he was trained to be?

Taehyung sighed as the memories of the yesteryears rolled away, making space for today.

Today, he was going to visit the cafe, get a drink and then walk around the town. It had some attractions according to google, so what better time than to fish them out and dissociate as he admired its beauty under the summer heat.

A breath in and he opened his curtains before making his way to the bathroom for his daily routine. Wearing his trusted combo of khaki pants and long sleeved striped tee, not quite fit for the weather, he walked out after having double-checked the locks. 

For now, he could at least pretend he was normal.

He could imagine himself to be a common man, making the best out of his vacation. 

Like he wasn’t in the constant cross fire of killing or fear of getting killed. 

“Welcome! Can I get you anything?”
A voice greeted him as he entered the cafe, accompanied by the sound of chimes going off with the door.

Sweet, so alike the atmosphere of this cosy place.

But, Taehyung was more focussed on the fact that the voice didn’t belong to the person he expected to be there. It was rougher, deeper but just as soothing for some reason. 

And so he looked up, he didn't find Jimin there— perhaps, he shouldn’t have expected either given this wasn’t a lone cafe owner situation and there was likely other people involved in keeping it upright and thus, not his shift at all. 

Taehyung was enamoured by the dimples on the man’s face, a perfect accessory to his smile, wide in its ways. His hair was buzzed short and bleached silver, quite the vibe that fit that face. Glasses perched on his nose, making him rounder by shape despite the sharp features.

“I’ll take a caramel macchiato.”

“Sure, anything to eat?”
The voice came through again, and Taehyung would be slightly embarrassed to admit that his head swayed with the richness in that voice.

“Um, yeah sure. A blueberry jam bun.”

“Cool, a name please?”

“Klimt.”
Taehyung regurgitated the same name he had used. At least, he was maintaining the same flow throughout, not that many would recognise him.

“Oh, you’re the new guy in the beach house downtown.”
The other stated, in a matter-of-fact tone.

“H-how do you—?”

“Small town, word spreads fast. Very fast, if you ask me. Sometimes on par with the waves during storm season.”
A small huff alongside the words.

“And, not really clever to use one of the most famous 19th century Austrian painter’s name for a cover.”
A chuckle from the barista who had a small smirk, making Taehyung turn red.

“Um, not a cover.”

“Sure, let’s stick to that. I am sure your parents did name you to be as such.”

At that, Taehyung froze up. 

His body rigid as his eyes locked to his shoes. His mother had lovingly named him Taehyung, peace and prosperity in its wake. A name etched to make his fate, all glorious and lovable, safe and protected from everything. He wasn’t any other name but Kim Taehyung, wondrous and fortunate.

But here he was, using aliases and names so unlike him. So unlike his spirit that had fizzled down in the years that went by.

All for the game, he tried convincing himself but it rendered useless.

Useless in front of the truth that this wasn’t the life imagined.

“Hey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to…”

That quickly snapped Taehyung as he snuck a deep breath, enough time for the building tension behind his eyes to fade and vanish like it never existed.

“Y-yeah, it’s fine. Just that please.”
Taehyung muttered, keeping the won bills beside the register.

He didn’t stay at the cafe.

He took his order and walked out the door, hoping to find anywhere else away from here. He couldn’t face that man, the unknown man whose face was his only identity in Taehyung’s head, nameless by circumstance.

May he never have to cross paths with this man.

Taehyung wasn’t weak. 

He was everything that made people fear his actions. His impressive record of most kills in the gang had gotten whispered fame from others outside his circle. He had the eyes of a predator for spotting lies from a distance and the nose of one that could smell weaknesses. He was powerful, he was majestic as he slung that rifle to make the needed shot.

But, here he was trembling with a cup of fancy coffee in his hand. 

Maybe the vacation had taken a toll on his skills that exceeded limits, his awareness to everything around him, his guards that kept people at bay. His power was dulling with each relaxed moment.

Maybe it was the rough night yesterday where the first betrayal of trust by proximity kept replaying over and over until he was no more. Everything of who and how he had become, were in those moments and he couldn’t let go.

Couldn’t let go when the playful comment was made by the unsuspecting barista.

Couldn’t better his moral immediately and thus, fleeing from there like the scared teenager within him had never grown up.

Perhaps, that was the truth, after all.

And maybe he could avoid another of that spiral away of conflict after a decade in the game by just never seeing people with whom conversations flowed like liquor in a party. 

Like the man from the cafe.

Taehyung logically knew that it was part of the other's job of easing customers into banters to help boost their economy. And it was common courtesy to enquire and socialise in a community, especially with the new showpiece in town. But that was bad news to him right now. It had been so long since he felt normal in a society that was plain, all too wrapped in deceptions and lies. 

He was isolated in search of the inner workings of the underground world that he had forgotten how normal it was for everyone else to just be. It was harsh to come to a world that hadn’t changed per se, just altered by perception of this hardened newness in him. Weirdly so, there was nothing he could do but ponder as the coffee held was forgotten with time.

Why did all of this nuance of being human seem more difficult than all of the other operations he had led successfully?

And maybe just maybe he would be able to when the turmoil within him calmed down.

But oh, fate wasn’t his best buddy.

“Hey, wait up!”
The same man’s voice came about.

Taehyung tried not to turn, he would rather be called weird and outlandish, even rude for not responding. But, the nagging in his heart that deserved the confrontation of his own demons made him turn, just as the man came to a stand still in front of him.

“This is for you.”

And thus presented was two chocolate cookies wrapped neatly in a cover with a bow on top, all for Taehyung.

“I didn’t order—”

“No, but this is for you. From me, an apology for the boundaries I unknowingly crossed back then.”

“You’re fine, it’s okay.”
Taehyung tried, smiling though he knew it came out worse, far from expected.

“Still I insist. There are wounds, unseen to the naked eye. And to harm the process of its healing, however long it may take, isn’t something one must do. Even unknowingly.”
The man said, and Taehyung could almost cry at the words.

The way it was articulated especially for a stranger was impressive and an absolute tearjerker. He couldn’t shake the feeling of validation at being recognised of his inner turmoils even if it weren’t explicit of his choices. He felt validated and that was more than anything he had been acknowledged of by anyone.

“So, will you take it?”

Taehyung wasn’t as reluctant as before, taking the cookies despite a part of his instincts kicking up in retaliation as this was still something out of his comfort zone.

And he had been the perpetuator of many such cases where he knew food could easily be tampered, one slip and they were gone. 

He had a reason to believe so, given how the people he had met in this town had been slightly off by some measure. Quiet and small measures, but measures nonetheless, enough for his senses to take not of it.

But then, he was reminded of Seokjin, the man by the beach who had talked about trust, specifically with food and chefs in restaurants and perhaps, he should implement that as well.

With a small nod, his free hand reached out to get the said packet, hand brushing against the other man’s hands. And then there was a gasp followed by immediate retraction of those hands.

“Oh, it’s 11, right? Shit, Jimin’s gonna be mad.”

At the sound of the familiar name, Taehyung’s head perked up slightly, showing interest, barely so. But, not uttering the same to enquire the same, he stood there with careful eyes.

“I have to leave now. My business partner is strict with shipment deliveries on Fridays, which is funny because he’s almost always late. Anyways, um, please don’t let the bad experience stop you from coming again. I would love having you there again. You can always ask for Namjoon, yeah?”

Taehyung nodded, a little in awe and a little in realisation at the fact that the man’s name was as beautiful as he was. Also the outpour of information that the cafe was owned by the two of them.

With a quick wave of hand, Namjoon was running back to the cafe where a small pickup truck also pulled up. Taehyung took that as a sign to leave, continue with the day’s plans of looking through the city, sit by a park and eat his brunch of sorts.

Infinitely better lunch than the days he had starved on the job, stuck in a small underground lab for a good 28 hours that one time.

What had been planned as a quick outing to explore and relax and perhaps then come back home to cook something turned into something more. Aka Taehyung’s complete attention had been stolen away by the manga in his hand. And given how he got laser focussed on things, the day planned was already rewritten.

He had visited a few shops, strolling through the market for fun or well, for the feeling of being normal like how he assumed people who weren't tied to dark rooms and blood in their dreams, usually did. Then, he had bought a fruit bowl and lemon juice, went to a nearby park with shade against the powerful sun’s glares. Seating himself comfortably, he thus went on to religiously devote his time in finishing the manga.

By the time he noticed the light source fading beyond the horizon, it was late and he really had to get going despite having the very last pages uncompleted for another day. Packing everything up, including the empty plastic bowl, Taehyung decided on just eating out for the night. 

He really didn't have it in him to actually cook up a meal.

And the closest one from the park was a quaint, little place that easily merged with the aesthetics of the town, the beach and the people. 

Albeit, right now it looked like there were only a few people in there. He assumed it had to do more with how the older folks loved home meals or the cheapest soju sells closer to the beach than a slightly more equipped place as this.

But when he opened the door, he heard the clear sound of someone’s voice.

“Sorry, it's closed.”
A familiar voice came about, but Taehyung looked at the door again to see if the sign was there.

“Seok-ah, you should have put the sign up.”
Once again, except this time Taehyung could name the person behind the voice.

“Oh, it’s you.”
Hoseok muttered, as he came in view of Taehyung with a cardboard sign in his hand.

“I didn't know that. Yeah, I'll see myself—”
Taehyung tried, hoping to get out by time.

“Now you wait deary, we can accommodate another on the table, can't we?”
Seokjin calmly said, and as Taehyung turned to see the man, he was in for a treat.

There was a fancy wooden table, lower to the ground with a whole platter full of side dishes, meat seared to perfection, bowls of rice and soba noodles in the centre, all for the two of them. 

Now three, of course.

“I wouldn’t want to impose.”
Taehyung whispered, despite his stomach growling at the delicious spread on the table, especially with no solid meal since last lunch.

“It is nothing. It’s just us two today. Our cashier ahjumma had to go home early for her friends’ birthday party. It’s just bingo though.”
Hoseok disclosed with a wink, like it was a big secret.

“Now, join in.”
Seokjin said, thrusting a pair of metal chopsticks into Taehyung’s hands.

And so, their dinner started.

Taehyung had to stop for a few minutes after each bite to just relish the beautiful explosion of flavours. It had been quite some time since he last had such a homely meal, one that bursted with warmth and love of the creators of that meal. The last one being that at Yang’s home when Areum noona had invited him for Chuseok.

Yeah, he missed the place he used to call home, for now there was no one to wait for his return or open their arms for him to fall into or just even exist to be the object of Taehyung’s affections.

“How are you liking the town?”
Seokjin asked, biting a piece of radish kimchi.

“It’s good. I like the calm here.”

“That’s nice. Hope you aren’t all too bored here.”
Hoseok joked, a little smile on his face as he sipped on the cool drink.

The place was quieter with the streets scarce by population. Everyone loved to retire home early, something of the past. Well, for most parts except the ones who went out drinking or had unspoken congregations for celebrating something. It was just the three of them there but Taehyung felt at ease, despite them not nearing the status of acquaintances yet.

“No, the books kept me company.”

“Ah Jungkook must have done a number on you then.”
Hoseok stated, a little gleam in his eyes.

“Not really, he didn’t impose himself.”

“Hm, that’s surprisingly good of him. Either way, if you ever get bored we could always use another pair of hands here, especially with the proper vacation goers coming here next week.”

“You get free meals every day and the pay, well, might not be like in Seoul, but good enough for a splurge on an extra pair of shoes.”
Seokjin added, a little wink at the end, just enough for Taheyung’s heart to flutter unlikely.

“How did you know I’m from—”
Taehyung questioned, a little stumped and surprised at the revelation.

“Ah, we can easily identify the main city boys, they have that vibe about them.”

“It would be a shame not to know after living here for so long.”
Hoseok said, nodding to himself more than anyone else.

“Now, do consider that offer, sleep on it for a night or two. I really do like you and thus, you are getting that head start on the opening.”
Seokjin exclaimed, hand coming to pat him on his back.

“I will try.”

The dinner concluded.

Apparently, free of cost at that, since Seokjin refused any form of payment, saying what are friends for? Well, Taehyung would argue that since that was the leading cause of businesses failing, but he would take the older’s word for it.

He didn’t really want to argue with an adamant man such as Seokjin. 

The day did end as well as it could with Seokjin giving him a free beer can to drink up when he reached home. He was happy, relaxed even as he walked through the roads with his bag weighing all the new things he had gotten for free. There was a freeing spirit within him so unlike, the morning that he had.

But the next morning hadn’t been as fortunate for him.

Neither were the two days following that.

They had been ruthless as the nights of ill thoughts and unanswered questions continued haunting him. There was no exact grounds for this to build on. It was unrelenting for this was also the first time in decades he hadn’t let the thoughts crush underneath the soles of his shoe. And thus, giving them room to fester longer, into something uglier.

He had never felt as uncertain ever than at that moment.

He still couldn't reason out as to how it had unfolded. Why did he have such a bad period mentally? Why has he struggled to get through it, opting to hole up in the room where the light never reached and dark shadows were all he could see? Why had he worked himself up worse than the days when he had returned from the bloodshed scenes with broken femurs and gashes against his abdomen?

Perhaps, it was all because he had spent all his life mastering the art of building that physical resistance to anything and everything. 

Perhaps, it was because he had never learnt to assimilate his thoughts and care for his mind.

Perhaps, it was because he jumped right into a business so gruesome for a 17 year old teenager without much heed and pushed back anything remotely disturbing.

Perhaps, it was because he never confronted his lack of family, his real one who had showered him with unconditional love as he had chosen to bury his trauma deep into the ridges of his soul.

Perhaps, he was just broken after everything.

The speculations were endless and unwanted, but he really could do nothing more than sit and wallow, hoping the worst part coursed through him. There was no solution, not that he tried— Taehyung believed he deserved the hurt for everything he had done, a moral conscience built overnight, but that was his job so what better way than to repent than let his mind stomp on the remains of his fragile soul?

The three days spent in isolation, he did so in his bed only getting up to get water when the thirst increased beyond ways and for nature’s call, of course. There was nothing more to do than live in this state of in-between where dying felt far and living felt burdensome.

He felt guilty to bask in the foul stench of uselessness. He couldn’t let the days get away from him like this. He had worked countless days, in and out, doing the assigned tasks without a whisper of dissatisfaction from his boss. He had been perfect. But then, he had spent over a decade doing this, persistent in his efforts. 

There was only so much, before he burnt himself too thin, too close, too small. He couldn’t afford that, no one could. He would rather be in this state for a few more weeks if that meant he could get back up on his feet for good, without hitches, without disturbances, without stumbles.

He could spare some time for the cold that had seeped deep into his bones to dissipate, after all. 

He would try to be better tomorrow, until then he would rather cocoon himself in the white sheets.

“She said to stall for longer, build that rapport.”

Unlike a few days ago, the voices were low and soft. They were in a room, much more homely and well-lighted. And yet again they were sharing drinks, wine to be exact. The topic of discussion was quite the same, one with a name unaddressed to, but the weight was held up nonetheless.

“I don’t know why we are waiting. I could have taken him in one shot.”
A gravelier voice, easily recognisable to that of the bookstore owner’s came out.

“Hyung, that isn’t our call. We just follow instructions.”

“There’s already enough talks going around about how six of us are being needed for one kill. It’s shameful to say the least.”
Whisper-light tone of another came out, but with the sting of a viper or perhaps a strong tequila shot.

“But, he really does look harmless.”

“That’s your weak spot talking.”
A chuckle followed through, but his eyes were sharp on the other man.

“He has killed Kwon under disguise, at close range.”

“I still don't know how he managed to infiltrate and get through it whole.”

“Yang did well with that lad.”

“Doesn't matter when the pressure from other teams within the organisation, is building. If she gives the go, at least we don't have to deal with them.”

A sigh and more, but they had to disperse soon. 

There was a lot riding on them and their efforts in putting the plan to full use. They had already spent days searching about their target, though it hadn’t turned out to be much. He seemed to be a very private person, if seen according to the present reports.

Even his kills were scarce on paper, only the big operations pulled had been in mention. Only the ones that had their small world shaking were highlighted with the bare necessary information. And that concluded the seven points, despite all the other rumoured knowledge they had already gained. Gained by experience on the field and more importantly, from the whispers in the dark.

There was more, they knew it in their hearts. 

And no amount of ink on the paper could testify against what they had seen and heard.

Damage far too wild and gruesome for the faint-hearted.

Taehyung was the next in line for the Yang gang. He was quick on his feet, even quicker in his sight. He had an established reputation not just because of the fear stricken in the hearts of his comrades, but because he had the capability to get things done, beyond what was expected of him.

This whole Kwon situation was a one-of-a-kind mistake, one that had never occurred and would never. 

They had no information about his personal life, on his family or friends, all too private except his usual transport from his apartment and the various warehouses where business was rampant without doubt. They knew only what they had been let on by him, nothing more for he was always one step forward even if it didn’t look like it.

Even if the man in question was having his first breakdown in his life. First one alone, with none to guide him for he was grown beyond their care.

“Long time, no see! How was the book?”
Jungkook asked just as Taehyung entered the bookstore.

He had made the effort to get up, put on some clean clothes just to return the book knowing that the cost was running up with each day and he didn’t really want to expend anymore on the manga. 

“Really good, I enjoyed it a lot!”
Taehyung said, not quite a lie, but just enough since he hadn’t completed it fully,

“Great, wanna get another and keep it running or should I put in for a refund right now?”

“Yeah, I'll get another. Though, recommendations would help me quite a bit.”

Taehyung hoped to try some more, just anything to keep his day going. He couldn’t afford to let his days waste away and if him being a normal human entailed this, then he would have to hook onto something, anything to keep his spirit alive.

What better way than to get books that you are forced to return, thus enough motivation to get up each day?

Might be an extremely stupid way to go about it, even foolish at that, but if that was the only way he could think which made sense at the moment, he was willing to take it.

Anything to keep him going, no questions asked.

“Ask Yoongi hyung, he's got some good stuff.”
Jungkook muttered, as he scanned the book. 

He seemed busy with work, not that Taehyung would fault him for it, but there was another air to him at the moment.

And Taehyung who really didn’t have much expertise on socialising “normally” except when he had to appear amicable and friendly to the target for close range ones. 

(He was an enigma to himself. 

He struggled to maintain eye contact for longer than necessary despite his eyes keeping track of every movement made. He couldn’t hold up a conversation unless the other willing party was more talkative, it was easier that way. Despite having enough experience slithering into people’s hearts and pockets, he was blank when it was strangers in this town.

There was no way this was the same Taehyung who had flirted his way into getting the key to the safe of Lee Jinyoung just three months ago.)

And so, to Taehyung’s better judgement, he didn’t actually go to Yoongi and ask for recommendations. Instead, he went on to get a more literary book with more words than pictures. Looking through the selection, his hands moved to the romance section as compared to the whodunnit ones, which seemed more up his alley than expected.

But, he was a box full of surprises, looking forward to soft feels and meet-cutes rather than the fighting. He already had enough of that in his real life to work on more in fiction.

Especially with his perfectionist brain pointing out all the errors in the narration.

He had real-life encounters, enough to beat any author writing those books.

“Oh, you should take this one. It’s pretty romantic, I love how the leads are put in an imperfect light of the world, but they are perfect for each other.”
Yoongi said, spawning out of nowhere with a book in hand.

Taehyung took the yellow and blue illustrated cover book, slightly surprised at the sudden arrival. But, he bowed in thanks, a small smile in place as a sign of gratitude.

“I have a lot more where that came from. So, don’t hesitate to just come along and ask, yeah?”
Yoongi’s voice was smooth and calming as his smile widened.

“Thank you.”

“Also there’s a small reading corner with beanbags and easy delivery of snacks. Make sure to use it when you want to use it. Better than the park with insects coming out.”
Yoongi mentioned and Taehyung quirked his eyebrow realising he had never mentioned it.

And apparently Yoongi caught it quickly.

“Things get around quite quickly in this town. Especially when you are the only ever person seen to sit there and read a manga.”

A chuckle and Taehyung relaxed, because he had indeed made eye contact with a few teens that day, just a nod to show he meant no harm. Well, they turned to be snitches after all.

He had heard the same sentence earlier that week. And there was something about it, a little something that he couldn’t quite place his finger on, but it was there.

He would eventually get to it. For now though, he would enjoy the bliss of ignorance.

“Now, shall I get that book in the system for you?”
Jungkook asked, coming from behind with a stack of books for Yoongi to arrange on the shelves.

“Yeah, I’ll take this for now.”

“If you’re spending some time here, let me know. I’ll send some lime soda your way. Free, by the way. Just for you.”
Jungkook whispered soft, with a playful wink as he looked beyond Taehyung’s shoulder to Yoongi.

“I can hear you, y’know?”
Yoongi’s voice came about, the sound of books clashing through as well.

“Well, wouldn’t you do the same?”

“You were the one who said that existed only in eateries.”

“We’re giving snacks, so part-eatery. And it’s good for the business, keeping a loyal customer base.”
Jungkook tried reasoning out his actions which made Taehyung giggle lightly, as he flipped through the pages, opting to seat himself at the dedicated corner.

“Acting like you are doing so for everyone here. Just admit that this was special for mhm…”

“Hyung…”

A whine and Yoongi cooed out quietly, just loud enough for Taehyung to hear. Well, he had heard most of the conversation. And it had sparked something in him, hearing the way they spoke of him like he was a prized possession and one who wasn’t there as their talk went on.

“Fine.”

Taehyung just smiled to himself, flipping through the pages as the hour passed by with his nose stuck in the book. A pretty butterfly-in-the-tummy inducing book with reversed cliche tropes and happy people had him absorbed, but his senses were alert, ears perking at the slightest sounds and eyes tracking any movement out of the order.

It was the training within him that had him cautious.

You really couldn’t beat it out of a man despite weeks of disuse.

Today, though, Taehyung had noticed none of the slight signs of violence on them, no knives that gleamed, no sulphur that burnt their skins, no hidden rifles on their ankles. Just them in their true forms of being book owners, cute sweaters with pins and badges and pretty smiles on their faces.

And that had him doubting if what he saw was just a fluke, a misunderstanding, something he had imagined wholly for his paranoia was insane as an active assassin.

Sooner or later, he would have enough proof to base his derived hypothesis on.

Taehyung hadn't expected the days to roll away like they had. Just days that melded into one big season, as the routine kept calm. 

So unlike how his days back when he was active and kicking.

He was a little sceptical about how Yang hadn't contacted him, but he guessed it was given with the mess created. They needed time to clear it out, get things in order, settle down the buzzing distrust within the organisation. And Minho had mentioned how he would initiate contact when he found the environment to be stable. 

They couldn’t possibly forget his existence and reconsider it all from one mistake, right?

He just had to wait it out. 

What was more of a surprise was how people in the town kept insisting on conversations with Taehyung.

They welcomed him like he had always been part of their community. There were invites for him to join the weekly sing-off at the town’s hall, big enough to house them all. Some even going further to give him homemade stuff to eat, wear or use.

But, there were six figures, people at best, who kept recurring. Just small things of his daily routine having to cross paths with at least one of them. They were welcoming too, just different by some means that Taehyung still had to find out. Insisting on various activities or items of choice that had him second-guessing.

He would dig further, get to it one way or the other.

Right now though, he was preparing himself for the latest dinner prompted by Hoseok where his friends would gather down.

Taehyung wasn’t sure what to expect from his friends, but he hoped a casual brown trousers and yellow button-down would suffice them enough.

It was quite enough as Taehyung came in to find all the six of them on a table with space for one more, aka him. Other tables beside that were filled with people he had seen earlier, like the girl from the phone shop whose name he never got, the old woman whom he had helped with the luggages, the fruit vendor lady, the man from the only watch shop in the town and so forth.

“Glad you could come!”
Seokjin’s voice was loud and welcoming.

“Of course. Um, should I have gotten anything?”

“No, of course not. Just your pretty self here. I’ve saved a seat.”
Jimin said, smiling wide, lightly drunk if the eyes were any indication.

And so it began, a night of everything wrapped into one. Boisterous laughter, overflowing drinks, talks of the lives they led, delicious food, jokes about the incidents they had, hot searing meat, and everything good one could expect at a dinner.

“There’s a rumour of the beach house being haunted. Is it true, Taehyung?”

“Of course not.”
Taehyung shunned all too quickly and loudly.

That had Jungkook pouting slightly, comforted by Hoseok’s side hugs with a murmur of 'you'll make lovely ghost friends soon!'

Taehyung looked on keenly, wondering how they came about to know each other. But, he guessed it was another of those ‘the town is tight-knit' kind of explanations and hence, didn’t bother questioning it.

“Did you buy it? Last year, there was another family there. So, I was curious, to be honest.”
Namjoon asked, not unkindly by any means.

“Ah, it was rented out by my friend. Not sure of the previous residents.”
Taehyung lied, hoping there was no suspicion raised.

“I see, I was just wondering. There really isn’t much going on here, so anything new causes the biggest speculation here.”

“Enough of this talk, now Taehyung-ah, did you consider joining us for the holiday-goers rush?”
Seokjin asked, propping his chin on the crossed elbows on the table.

“I guess so, yeah.”

“Wah, another round please! We have a contender.”
Hoseok said, having already drank enough for anyone to notice. 

The red flush on his honeyed skin really gave it away.

“Ah, you snatched him right up from under our noses! We really counted on him sitting and reading books, all model-like pretty.”
Jungkook said, causing an uproar of laughter and patting backs.

Taehyung was drunk enough to join in, with no qualms of how he appeared or how his defenses were slightly weakened for anything to occur. That was the power of simple drinking with a company like no other, joyous even if there was something amiss.

The other six looked on at him, as he took another swig at the soju poured in by Jimin. 

Sharp and unforgivable eyes on the target at hand, but the excruciating wait was on.

The illusion of the image painted by the seven was fitting to their inner motives at stake.

Chapter Text

A gentle breeze in the distance, huge trees that swayed with its movements, soft and pleasant through it all. The image of the clear blue ocean from the window was perfectly picturesque, one straight out of a magazine or perhaps a photographer’s wet dream. 

Taehyung would have loved to praise this beautiful scenery any other time of his life. But it had already been 3 weeks here and he had gotten a little sick of it, perhaps bored was the better word. His eyes strayed for longer at the gleaming water waves as they crashed against the small rockline further away from his place.

The vast expanse of the ocean had made it difficult for Taehyung to gather his thoughts. It felt like a hypnotic solution present out there, lulling him closer to jump in and feel the salt against his skin. But there was also the unknown wonder in it which brought out the fear in him, chilled and served cold.

Fear of everything losing, not lasting the lifetime he had dreamt of at 15, and everything that came in between his existence and that dreaded end of time.

So for now, he ripped his gaze away from the ocean and pulled on his blue sneaks as he took his phone and walked out of the door. After all, he now had a job at the restaurant, much to Seokjin’s pleasure.

“C’mon in now and grab an apron. I’ll get your own one on Monday!”
Hoseok muttered, just as Taehyung entered the restaurant which was still closed to the public.

The older must have seen him just standing there, clueless as to whether he should go in as he had signalled the other with a flick of his wrist through the glass door.

“So, what should I do?”

“Go in and help with the cutlery now.”
Hoseok said, directing Taehyung to the tiny door behind the register.

Following through diligently, Taehyung walked to the assigned the area only to find Seokjin alone as compared to what he had expected as to be at least 3 more people given how the crowd outside was. All waiting for one of the best authentic restaurants in the area to open up, mostly tourists to be fair who might have come using those Google reviews.

“Good with the knife?”
Seokjin asked, pointing a knife at Taehyung with a mere inch between the shiny steel blade and Taehyung’s chin.

“Yeah, better than most.”
Taehyung said, not quite shaken by the gesture having all too many experiences with that plaything.

“Be careful, it might bite your back.”

Taehyung didn’t respond, just stared blankly. His mind had the sudden influx of thoughts trying to place the said words to anything remotely close to what he had encountered. There was the thinly veiled threat of something bigger beyond it all if he tried hard, though he didn’t really have much to back that up.

He tried not to change his facial expressions by a lot, keeping it steady to not let any suspicions be raised as such. But the question on his face was loud enough for the other to pick up on it.

“Hoseok’s gonna assign you to chopping vegetables now.”

“I don’t mind. It replaces the thoughts with static fuzz so a win, I guess.”

And so with that, Taehyung was assigned to cut 20 onions and peel a bunch of garlic for their roasted beef stew speciality. He chopped the white onions finely just like they needed it with a quickness that was fit for the busy serving place. There was precision in Taehyung’s hands, one that made Hoseok and Seokjin stop in their tracks for a minute too long. 

He might have to tone down his knife skills, but really was anyone surprised when he ahd wielded his best friend for more than a decade?

The day went by all too quickly with no time for lunch longer than 20 minutes, but it moved without a hitch, tourists flocking on the weekends as they came in with their tired bodies and luggages heaving behind. Taehyung fortunately wasn't on the front lines of welcoming and seating them— Seokjin taking over that with a wide smile plastered despite the hidden unlikeliness of choosing that job.

Taehyung could see that masked look behind Seokjin’s eyes, so unlike when he was during that day when he had first met the older.

Good thing through was that by the time the sun set under, slowly morphing to the night sky the frequency of guests at the restaurant had decreased by a lot, aka they were currently serving one table, all ready to close by the time it struck 7. Just as Seokjin took to cleaning the counters, the door to the kitchen opened with seemingly familiar footsteps.

Taehyung didn’t look up, assuming it was just Hoseok until the voice was cloyingly sweeter and how could Taehyung possibly forget the very first voice he had heard in this town.

Park Jimin.

“Hyung, can we—Oh hi, handsome!”

And that one was particularly directed to him, as it would seem with Jimin who looked at Taehyung with a dazzling smile.

“Jimin, stop distracting my staff. Why are you even here?”
Seokjin playfully said, scrubbing the gochujang stain from the stainless steel counter.

“We need peppers for our sandwich and so I came to ask.”

There was an underlying tone of something that Taehyung couldn’t quite place a hand on, but it was there, serious and cautious.

”When did you look into the pantry?”

“15:00.”

“I’ll bring some over in ten minutes. Might need to search for a specific kind. Hoseok can manage here.”
Seokjin’s voice was clipped as he stared at Jimin.

“Okay then. Bye cutie~”
Jimin whispered, winking at Taehyung before walking off from there.

Taehyung just smiled back, eyes calm as ever. He was sure of it now— it in question, being the very energy between the two which suggested something more, something linking to the amiss feeling in between. The words had something inconspicuous at best, threatening at worst and that was enough to put him on alert. Quietly he observed, trying to place that sinking within him to anything remotely close. 

And when it came back to him with no results, he instead took to washing the vessels with the steel scrub at hand, like the diligent worker he was.

He was not going to bring attention to himself, despite the blaring signs of it already showing. 

After all, now he had a job that was at the forefront of customers and that could only mean more people knowing him, unlike him holed up in that beach house.

“Got a message today.”
Seokjin said, head resting against the couch with closed eyes.

“Yeah and?”
Hoseok asked, as he came in twirling the keys in one hand.

“Read it for yourself.”

“Oh c’mon.”

“She asked us to push back further.”
Namjoon said, coming from his room with his glasses still on.

“What the fuck? Why? Again another push back? Why?”

“Some stuff occurred in Seoul and Yang’s been in some soup which involved her. That means, taking him off now only encourages them to raze it in doubles there.”
Jungkook muttered as Hoseok paced across the room with a frown.

“She wants us to wait until Yang’s completely weak before we take his right hand man.”
Seokjin added, opening his left eye to stare at Hoseok who stopped in his tracks abruptly.

“I don’t know how long I can keep the act up.”
Jimin sighed, leaning on Namjoon completely.

Hoseok walked over to Seokjin, sitting beside him on the couch with a muted expression as the older tapped his thighs as means of comfort after the subtle reprimanding.

“It’s not hard really.”
Yoongi shrugged off-handedly.

“Well, you’ve been solitary, forging friendships as required for more than 2 years. All of mine have been a quick day at max. The longest I have gone was 5 weeks.”
Jimin recounted, sitting on the couch as well, thus sandwiching Hoseok between Seokjin and himself unintentionally.

“Impatient.”

“Excuse you, I’m just—”

“Afraid that you’ll be emotionally invested making it hard to kill?”
Hoseok asked, turning his head to Jimin who bit his lip in response.

“Yeah, well that too. But, also that he might catch on and cause a whole ruckus making the mission a lot more difficult.”

“Not really, we’ve been careful.”
Namjoon tried easing the tension in the room.

Fortunately, one that wasn’t directed at any of them. Because that had always been a mess, even after the years spent together. Namjoon had seen the worst of it, with raging words, spiteful curses, a few too many broken glasses and some bandaging required for the blood spilled. 

“Plus, we’re doing this together as seven which honestly don’t understand the need given it’s just one man. But, we’re together for the first time in years so let’s do it wisely and then perhaps relax on the break.”
Yoongi said, tracing Jungkook’s tattoos absent-mindedly.

“The one you negotiated?”

“I wasn’t letting them disrespect us after pulling such a stunt. They ought to treat us a little better for all that dirty work and one vacation can hardly change that.”

“No beaches please. Somewhere mountainy, I can’t stand the heat here.”
Jungkook said, looking at Yoongi with wide eyes.

“That will be arranged, love.”

“So, what exactly are we supposed to do?”
Hoseok asked, eyes unsure with each second.

“Befriend him more and keep it going, I guess. We need him to trust us for whatever she has planned, be it the ‘waterboard the truth’ method or ‘one shot kill’.”
Namjoon concluded, giving a just end to the damned latter that had come that noon.

“Ah but that also means we need to keep the businesses running.”

“Yeah, yours are easier with the actual bakery workers aiding.”
Hoseok commented as Jimin eased him into resting on his shoulders.

“I know, I wouldn’t survive in a restaurant like yours. Like why the fuck is it even that popular when you two are the only ones behind it?”

“Because we are fabulous at our work, mwah.”
Seokjin said, making them all laugh loudly— quite a break to the suffocating atmosphere from before.

“Tone it down.”

“Yours is the easiest, just books and not many come in either.”
Jimin pouted, looking at Yoongi who had a smug look.

“Well, I spend my time figuring out more information about him. And it’s frustrating cause he literally has no social presence.”

“We knew that coming in, didn’t we?”
Namjoon asked upon Yoongi's response.

“No you don’t get it. I meant, his tracks are erased each day he lives. It’s like he doesn’t exist by any means. Soon, they’re gonna make an urban legend out of him.”

“What? An urban legend about an assassin?”
Hoseok chuckled, only coming to a stop when he saw Yoongi being serious about this.

“Many actually, but we aren’t discussing that.”

“Yeah, this is deeper than we thought. Cause if they’re erasing his steps that quickly, there’s something else amiss in his life or relationship with Yang. Or they’re planning something else.”
Jungkook said, perking up with his own information that had been gathered.

“Wait, that SIM he bought earlier. That can be tapped right?”
Namjoon questioned, getting a little nod from Jimin who continued further.

“Yeah, but I’m not sure where that will take us. Like would he even use the same one?”

“You never know. People may not be as smart as you give them credit for.”
Seokjin uttered, eyes still on the ceiling as if he was in a between a trance of memories and their reality as of that moment where they were currently discussing their target.

“I’ll check that too.”
Yoongi said, keeping note of that card number he had vouched from Chaesoo.

“For now, we need to keep digging more and maintain our friendship as such.”

And so they did just that, when Hoseok extended the invitation. 

It was Taehyung’s third day at the job and with the ‘tourist super rush’ as claimed by Hoseok was finally over until next weekend, the place was calmer with only a few regulars visiting. Seokjin had taken to gather some of the fresh fish from the market with Yoongi in his tow as the bookstore was closed for the day in lieu of slight renovations.

“Taehyung, it’s well, we’re having a secret birthday party for Yoongi this Saturday since it is his birthday and well, if you have no plans, you can join in.”

Hoseok tried to be nonchalant about it, not wanting to come off too strong. He hoped it was enough by the looks of it, but there was an awkward air around them and without Seokjin as the buffer, it was just slightly weird. 

“Oh, um I’m not a big party person—”

“It’s a small one, I assure you. Just the six of us, actually.”
Hoseok added, dispersing any doubts.

“Oh then I wouldn’t want to impose.”

“If that was the case, I wouldn’t invite you, would I?”
Hoseok said, smiling softly with eyes far too kind for Taehyung. Kinder than any he had seen after his mother’s passing.

“Yeah, you’re right.”

“So, you’re in?”

“Sure. I have nothing better to do.”
Taehyung replied, a small grin on his face as the other gave a thumbs up and got back to taking a glass of lemon soda to the women at the far end table of the restaurant. 

Awry. Stray dogs on the loose. 

Taehyung stared at the message that had popped up.

He had no idea what was going on anymore. 

Plainly that was it.

But underneath all that was so much more. No one had contacted him for instructions since three weeks already. For the first time in this career, he was distrustful of everything, not knowing what was going on, especially as the right hand man of the business and as the successor of the same in near future.

Not being in on the going business was really hurting his self-esteem, but more importantly, his anxiety that wondered if there was something amiss, faulty, just wrong in its sense. If him not knowing didn’t mean much to everyone did that mean he was being replaced? And if that was the case should he be relieved of that fact or be heartbroken over them brushing him off so easily over one clue left behind?

Taehyung had a lot more to unravel on his own. 

His boss not contacting him much less than the few words from MInho, his own mind scattered in pieces wide and far, his fading confidence in who he was as an assassin, his debilitating condition of unused hands and weaker knees and the ever-growing need to end it all for another life where peace was the only thing he grew up knowing.

The last one was difficult knowing that could never be his possibility, given the choices he made at fifteen by trading his soul to the devil. But he would never undo it for the few more weeks he got with his mother were all due to that very money he had gotten by falling into the snare.

He wouldn’t dare to dream of living in regret of not having a few more days with his mother, his lone mother who had stood through the tests of time just to make him into the man he was right now.

But there was also the gnawing feeling of leaving this violent crime-filled life for something that wasn’t as stressful. Something that wasn’t doomed by its very existence. Something that didn’t take it away from him, conscious be damned. 

For that was also the reason for his latest physical limitations being discovered.

He had been so trapped with everything in that life of killing, blackmailing, extorting as and when required for his boss, doing business checks that the every moment his body gained the rest it hadn’t for the past decade had come in ten folds of pain every night. 

Excruciating, bone-deep agony of a stretched thin body, badly healed fractures at the job, bruising that never really mended its ways after repeated blows, fatigue of thousand suns passing over his body and just exhaustion in its rawest forms.

And of course there was also the other part. The one where he was getting torn between the things he knew and the things he had to dig out. 

His skills may have taken a backseat, wearing with the little amount of rest availed in the decade but not enough for him to be completely unreliable on his senses. He was in no way, deaf to their mumbled whispers, blind to the little sneaks of power and violence, stone cold to the touches of danger that lurked in the corners.

But he was indeed mute to voice it out for he had no gathered intel on the people in this strange town. Or perhaps it wasn't everyone just the ones close to him.

okay. 

That was all Taehyung could answer, eyes droopy with each blink.

He couldn’t think, well, he would rather not. He laid on the cold floor, trying to mimic the hardness of his memories that were already failing him at 29. Memories of warm sunshine and equally warm hands that cradled his head when he was a babe in his mother’s embrace. Memories of carefree days when his world wasn’t on the verge of crashing piece by piece. Memories of another Taehyung who didn’t have to make the choices that ultimately led him here.

Cloudy skies reigned over as he fell prey to the nightmare monsters in his sleep.

The only place where nothing could hurt except his own self, a safety sought in it which was as precious as any commodity availed at the moment. 

Nightmares seemed safer now for at least there he had a chance of escaping entirely unlike the real world where he was strapped to the chair with his head drowning in a bucket of hopelessness. 

One day, he would make that escape in real life.

Taehyung hadn’t quite expected to be running into Namjoon of all people in the park but he guessed it had to do with the size of the town, quite the minimalist as compared to Seoul.

He had been wandering the same place, a lot cooler than the beach where the sun struck midnight. He hadn’t bought anything more than his phone and old 2011 earphones that were surprisingly in good shape. And just as he took to sit on a bench, he saw Namjoon walking from the opposite direction.

Taehyung didn’t want to draw attention, not really in the mood to entertain a conversation, especially given he really didn’t know the other. Well, he didn’t know anyone but with Seokjin and Jimin, conversations just flowed, perhaps it was them carrying it along, which made it quite easy for an isolated man like himself.

But then, Namjoon spotted him even with that ridiculously big hat that covered half his face— in retrospect, he wondered if that was the problem in itself? He was drawing attention to himself by using that, which went against everything he had learnt to remain as hidden away as physically possible. 

The other cautiously walked over, waving in tiny that had Taehyung’s mind coming up with the imagery of a tiny, excited puppy that wagged its tail on meeting new people. 

That… that wasn’t good by any means. No, that wasn’t. No, he wasn’t gonna confront that, he was going to bury it along with all the other stuff he didn’t have going on.

“Hey stranger!”
Namjoon’s smooth voice came through.

“Mind if I join you?”

“No, that’s fine.”

“Got off early, hm?”
Namjoon asked, eyes on the pigeon that was having its time pecking the pavement dirt.

“Yeah, there were only 3 customers today.”
Taehyung answered, hoping to keep it going.

“Some days are just like that. Honestly, I cherish them. It gives me more free time to read books.”
Namjoon muttered in his soothing tone as the wind blew over majestically, making his blond hair sweep over.

“Mhm, never had such time before. I really didn’t pick up that much.”

Taehyung’s words though clipped and short by length, weren’t so by its essence. He had given away more of himself in those 13 words than any he had uttered to anyone else till then— a part of his life that he refused to acknowledge in public for he was the feared assassin with razor sharp kills and scary eyes not the slightly trembling, wearied body he held with bare threads right now.

“Oh I get that. I was so busy before coming here that I could hardly catch a breath in between, much less for personal joys. Seoul is a graveyard of zombies trying to achieve their dreams.”

“You…you are from—”

“Yeah, been there, grew up there. Sorta a bummer to have spent so many years there thinking that was life. I mean, it isn’t rainbows and sunshine here, well, maybe sunshine…but it is way better than whatever Seoul was for me.”
Namjoon rambled and Taehyung couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s better here. That I can’t lie.”

“Ah, maybe you too will get back to discovering those joys here.”

A plain white lie. 

A lie by Namjoon who didn’t know Taehyung as a person beyond this stranger in their town.

Taehyung couldn’t enjoy life. No, he wasn’t built for that. He was built to be someone whose very name created waves of fright in people. He was built on grounds of nothing that could amount to being human. He was never meant for more than organising illegal businesses and keeping the boundaries neat for a crime that paid.

A payment he never claimed or enjoyed, just sitting in some safehouse for a later that never came.

This fucking break had messed up his head.

He was never doubtful of his chosen career. He was never hesitant over the deeds he had done that were definitely a one-way ticket to hell. He was never tethering at the edge of what to do like a scared teenager having to choose the adult life responsibilities. 

He was just supposed to complete his tasks of the day, charm the people around him with a dazzling smile and a few pretty words, consult the weaponries daily to check on their stock, make note of the rogues on the street and look forward to anything that came Yang’s way. After all, the other considered him to be capable of taking power of a whole empire that stood underneath the buzzling Seoul.

But right now, everything felt like a choice, one set as a fork in between two paths to be taken. He wondered if there was even a chance at what Namjoon was claiming for him. 

There wasn’t and he was painfully aware of it.

“Lost in thought?”
Namjoon’s soft voice came along again, except this time it was distant and muffled to his own ears.

“Ah nothing.”

“I’m sorry if that was— I seem to keep getting it wrong with you. I really didn’t mean to—”
Namjoon apologized upon seeing the blank face on Taehyung.

Taehyung didn’t know how he could convey it but the problem wasn’t Namjoon or his words but something about the other that evoked a sense of deep understanding within him. Most of those concerning himself and his tangled mess of thoughts. It was discerning how all of his walls that stood strong were breaking faster than the sandcastle dreams by the ocean.

Maybe it was the eyes or the warmth in his voice or just his presence, Namjoon had that capability to bring Taehyung into unravelling himself. Maybe not for they only had two encounters to base it off, but it couldn’t have been such a coincidence, right?

Whatever it was, Taehyung wished not to know further for that was a can of worms he wouldn’t dare to open this lifetime. Not today. Not ever.

“It’s not you, don’t worry.”
Taehyung replied, blinking slowly.

There was silence after that, just plain, slightly unpleasant but mostly comfortable with the chirping of crickets making for most of the noise in between them. Taehyung speculated on what Namjoon thought about him and what his reaction would be if he knew who he really was. Not that it would matter or ever come to light as such because Taehyung was still careful, very careful about his actions and words.

Yet, his imagination led him places. Wondering what and how in the future that was never to happen. Just wondering.

“If you are free, you should definitely check out this movie, moving on . It’s not too hard on the mind and I have a feeling you will like it.”
Namjoon muttered, eyes now focussed on Taehyung.

“I will try to.”

Taehyung’s eyes met Namjoon’s—soft and inquisitive. And that very moment there was a dangerous thought within him. The need to spend more time with Namjoon for all that glory behind those thick rimmed glasses. There was something—unnamed and unexplainable, that urged him forward to know and just spend an eternity with the other, all in and ready to bloom under the human connection of conversations.

The urge to know more about this man was intense. What was his favourite book? What flavours of ice creams did he enjoy? Did he like skyscrapers? What was his opinion on the use of grey as the buffer zone? Where did he most spend his time? What did he think of life and one’s morality in a world as such?

He just wanted to know more about Namjoon.

“See you on Saturday then?”

Instead, Taehyung smiled in response with a nod, getting up and walking away into the town where the crowd pushed limits on the market day. He walked away, not pushing the conversation further— an abrupt ending, but the other didn’t seem all too offended by the lack of it either. 

Namjoon smiled back, a dimple popping in its place.

“We need backup quickly.”

“No, no. We can’t leave him. The boss will skin us alive.”

Taehyung could hear the conversation playing from his in-ear. They hadn’t disconnected the ear piece as it would seem. 

A rookie mistake especially if you are looking to backstab and sabotage the very hand that fed you.

Taehyung would look into that later because right now, he was practically alone with one magazine left and a bullet lodged in his arm. He had asked for backup, but as it would seem he couldn’t quite rely on it.

He had enough of these little obstacles when he had a big one to tackle tonight, and so with the same anger coursing through him, he pulled the earpiece off with precise disgust and action that it snapped, hanging down his shoulder pathetically. 

Poor earpiece.

Scanning the place quickly, he found two exits and five jerks hiding behind the opaque doors— a good move unless you counted in the shadows that had been created by being in the way of the only source of light in the room. Taehyung could only chuckle at the stupidity displayed at the moment.

Dumb people get themselves killed or as the saying goes.

(He wasn’t sure if they really was a saying but Minho repeated that almost every day so, there must be something close to it, at least.)

Taehyung looked to his left wondering how best he could use the broken table, on which blood was smeared from the last person who fell from the second floor in his attempt to escape, could be used as a shield. But that wasn’t quite effective either. He just had to lure them out enough for quick responses without more on his part.

He couldn’t afford another injury today, already feeling the pain from his ankle shoot up.

He did fall from the top as well—much more gracefully and definitely more alive than the dead man on the table. The training had definitely come of use, Yang would be proud of it. 

“Kim, I know you are alive.”

There was the voice. That grating voice of the meek and scared man who was trying hard to appear brave. That annoying, loud and ignorant idiot who acted like he owned more than what was given to him. Conceited bastard who had been warned all too well of his actions and their consequences.

And the very reason Taehyung was sent to clean the mess, but then a surprise came along in the form of their rivals being present to deter the ambush plan. All of it at a party which made it quite easy for him to track it down. Another stupid move on their part.

Nonetheless, Taehyung was standing strong behind the pillar with a dripping arm and a gun in his hand, cocked with new bullets to take them out. 

“Wouldn’t want you expecting anything apart from that.”
Taehyung teasingly replied, loud and clear. His tongue poking against his inner cheek as a cat-like grin spread across his face.

He wasn’t one to exchange in conversation seconds before a kill, especially if it was a planned shot and done job, unlike the ones which required him to be close vicinity of the target for easy access. But this was a special case. Given the man was formerly a close acquaintance at best.

“Look, I’ll surrender the west side and I’m willing to give all the other profits I get from the top business just for you alone.”

“Yang doesn’t even have to know, just between us. I’ll make it clean for you, just collecting and it’s all yours, if you leave now.”
The man continued, oblivious to the devilish smile that was blooming on Taehyung’s face outside the door.

“Do we have a deal then?”

And when he finally finished talking, Taehyung started laughing like a maniac, loud and unhinged. Anyone would have considered him absolutely bonkers with the way he was howling, deep and rich in the undertone of his voice. 

“What—”

“I’m laughing, what else? Never heard a man laugh, hm?”
Taehyung muttered back just as the door opened to the other’s shocked face. 

Anyone in that room, if they were capable of recounting this incident later would have spoken at lengths about the deranged look in Taehyung’s widened eyes— a little bloodthirsty, a little maniac, and a lot prepared. That was the look of a man looking to kill, looking for revenge, looking to complete a job.

Red and scary eyes on that eerily calm face with a smile that showed his set of perfect teeth, Taehyung was to be feared just like how it had prophesied.

“Oh Yeongsang, oh dear Yeongsang, you made a blunder. Big one.”

Taehyung said, walking close and sweeping his eyes across as the lack of weapons in their hands were evident. 

Oh, this was a losing game from the very start. Neither Yeongsang nor the other four had any chance of seeing the next morning. It was practically impossible for them to escape their fate, especially so when Taehyung was in the mood to hunt down.

“First rule of the game, don’t promise shit you can’t give. Second one, don’t run off and cheat a man with the power to serve your head on a platter. Third and the most important one, don’t fucking try to bribe the right-hand man, especially when he has a clear shot.”
Taehyung said, slowly walking forward with the gun still down, arm not pointing at them at all, just a casual walk while carrying the gun like it was a soon-to-be discarded cigarette.

And when they started looking all elsewhere, trying to look for any shooter who had put the red mark on their foreheads, Taehyung pulled his arm in a single second, pointing at them with such pace that it would put light to shame for he was quicker than it all. All of it unfolded in the blink of an eye, one second their heads were all turned upwards in search of a sleek rifle and the next they were turning to each other upon hearing the piercing scream of the next person.

A neat little plot to trick the target into trusting the threat wasn't right in front of him— a personal learning and you would be damned to think Taehyung wasn't proud of it.

Four shots to kill everyone except Yeongsang in continuation, rapid movements enough to put them in a stupor of shock. They hadn’t expected it, least from him when he had mentioned it, looking for a backup that never arrived. And so when the shots were fired, they hardly had any time to react.

I mean who would— when it was put precisely against the forehead where a shot was a guaranteed certificate to the morgue and maybe even afterlife in the same day?

Taehyung chuckled one last time, pointing his pistol straight at Yeongsang.

“I’m not a disloyal bastard like you.”

Upon checking that there was no one else in the building, anyone who could have escaped with information of whatever had unfolded, Taehyung walked out of the building, his black jacket soaked with blood. 

But that was still not of his concern, as his eyes caught hold of the driver who had replaced Minho for today's mission. He couldn't find the other two of his team, seemingly have fled or in whatever shenanigans they were upto.

“Get me a pack and a call to the boss.”

The driver, a newbie obliged and walked back in to retrieve both of it. Luckily, Yang picked the call after three rings just as Taehyung pulled out one cigarette and held it to the shiny silver lighter that he had bought recently. 

“Yeah boss, it's Taehyung here. It's done. We'll be back by an hour. There's some incomplete business within though. Will be informing on arrival.”

“Yeah, will do.”

The last of Yang’s static voice hit and Taehyung obeyed to it before cutting the call.

With one puff in, he stood against the bonnet of the car looking at the night sky that was way clearer given the location of his being on the outskirts of the light-filled city. Taehyung had asked the driver to go find the other two, if possible. After all they still had unfinished business. 

He breathed in the smoke which unironically cleared the weight in his chest, the same one that nestled like a damn anchor during his missions. Taehyung had attributed it to fear or anxiety early on in his career, but that wasn't entirely the case. There was no definitive answer to it and he wasn't keen on going to the doctor's to check that out either. He had stopped thinking of it entirely, for any answer wouldn't change much for him. He still had to complete his job, clean and cut to the bone.

His eyes took hold of the bare fields in front of him, all with an exception of a few greenhouses in the distance. He flicked the cigarette to get rid of the ashes, thinking back to how his life had snowballed to this from wherever he started. He wondered if his loyalty to the gang would ever bite his back. 

But he owed it to them after all. He owed those days given in peace. He owed them a safe route to being an adult as compared to a penniless orphan on the street with no job.

He just hoped that his reliability and strength weren’t questioned in due time due to unforeseen circumstances.

“Didn't find them, sir.”

The driver's voice broke his thoughtless mind’s chatter. 

“Fine then. Let's get a move on it. They can't run for longer.”
Taehyung said with a small smile as he got into the backseat after throwing the half cigarette and crushing it under his feet.

Much later, after having met Yang whose face was contorted at the slight mess of blood on his clothes, Taehyung finally moved to the in-house doctor’s station to get his arm patched up. 

“Taehyung, this isn't good. I don't get why you didn't —”
Areum mumbled, pacing across the room to get all the supplies to clean the wound and do the needful.

“Noona, I know enough of the human body not to unintentionally kill myself. It isn't lodged deep, just bleeding from exertion.”
Taehyung said, in an almost too-cool of a tone to even connect it to the same man who had a bullet lodged in his arm.

“I swear to god Taehyung, don't be a smartass with me.”

Taehyung just grinned at that, peeling off his black jacket slowly unravelling more of that red blood that had stained his skin and inner tee. He had to remove that as well, given for the ease of the procedure. Areum quickly walked over to raise the temperature of the room to not let the half-naked man on her table freeze his ass.

“Sorry.”
Taehyung whispered, just as Areum gave him a ginger root to bite on as she administered local anaesthesia as well.

“That's more like it.”

“You may be big boss’s favourite out there, but you are still a human with fallacies no matter how much you wish you didn’t. So stop doing stuff that can get you hurt.”
Areum reprimanded, taking the forceps to get it out since it was a clean shot meaning the procedure could safely be carried out.

And when his wound healed with a few too many attempts to change the bandaging on his own— that only led him to visit Areum who took him in with crossed arms and an unimpressed look— Taehyung finally let the others track those two minions down.

What ensued after that was a treat for him and a lesson to the others: never cross the line set by the boss.

There was a reason he had climbed the ranks that quickly, taking a chance given to all but only a few being able to actually accomplish the feat. Taehyung had built his reputation gradually but all too quickly, according to the others. Of course, that had brought about a wave of displeasure and a few too many attempts at his success, a wreck to his confidence and skills.

Taehyung had persevered and persisted. He wasn’t just a name on the lips of those who feared him. No, he was much more than that. He had that only because of how efficiently he executed the tasks. He was everything you learn to avoid for that very reason.

He was unstoppable. 

He still is.

“We’re closing soon today. You can go home and rest before meeting us at the beach. It’s a lowkey  party so don’t dress to impress.”
Seokjin joked, making Taehyung crack a smile.

The rush had been extensive today by the looks of the crowd outside. But at least, this weekend they had two pairs of helping hands through it all. Taehyung wasn’t sure why he was doing this, given he really didn’t need the money and well, this was his vacation meaning he had to rest and enjoy his life.

But there was another part of him that didn't know rest. That part had strived through the past decade on the very rush of working until his body chose sleep on is own upon not getting its way of rest. All he had known was working and doing something to keep those hands busy.

For an idle body was a devil’s workshop for unwanted thoughts.

And Taehyung, believe it or not, wasn’t all too stable in his head to let the thoughts run wild until he was debilitated from them. He was physically strong and mentally awake, just enough to make it past the point for him to be an assassin. Anything apart from that only meant trouble for himself and everyone around him.

And thus, the very reason to join the busiest restaurant in the town, which provided leftovers on most days and a good staff lunch— not minding that the staff at hand were three. But it really was a tiny mom and pop shop so, it didn’t matter as much.

Taehyung quickly winded up the customers as the sign for closing went up. He didn’t really know what people did at birthday parties anymore. As a kid he knew it was cake cutting and each of them lined up to give their presents. Now, he imagined it to include booze and more that were more fit for a 30+ year old.

To be fair, he really didn’t celebrate any of his own after his mother’s death. It was just plain sad for the first few years because he would end up at her grave each birthday then, and that became his new tradition. And with no one else urging him— all too professional in their job or the fact that Taehyung was too scary— it just faded away.

Plus it was coincidental the new years’ two days after his birthday, so there was enough joy to spread around. 

He was invited to a few birthday parties within the gang, most unattended and the ones on compulsion were usually the grand ones hosted in big building with everyone in ball gowns and suits, a rich man’s platter to taste. 

“Do you want us to pick you up?”
Hoseok asked, as he removed that red apron off his body.

“No, I think I’ll figure it out.”

“And don’t bother buying stuff, we’ll manage. Just join us for the party, yeah?”
Hoseok reiterated once again, making Taehyung smile because he had already bought a mug with some cartoon character he found cute.

He hoped that would suffice nonetheless.

Taehyung did clean himself up and put on the nicest yet effortless looking outfit he could come up with. There was a party of him that was giddy at the prospect of going for this was the first time in his adult life someone had just asked him for who he was and not because of all that history he held.

History that he hoped not to taint this new found friendship, Seokjin’s words. 

But there was an inkling of something missing and he for once, was willing to ignore that for the better.

“So glad you could come.”
Jimin’s wide smile greeted him as he entered the tiny shack on the beach, likely unused but clean and decorated for the party.

(It wasn’t an official place as he would learn later. Just something the six of them had come up with for fun as they named it. And Taehyung’s muted senses that gathered on that fact didn’t comment on it.)

“Oh, what’s this? You didn’t have to.”
Jungkook muttered, upon seeing the wrapped green present in Taehyung’s hands.

“They will be here soon, Yoongi already knows about the party, I suppose. But, Taehyung being here will be a surprise!”
Seokjin muttered as he arranged the tiny plastic cups in a pyramid.

“Hyung, c’mon. I didn’t buy that for games.”

“Jimin-ah relax. What else will you make of it? Lemme have my fun.”

Taehyung meekly sat in the corner as the trio laughed louder with each of their inside jokes spilling out. Jungkook had tried to bring him into the conversation in each opening, even going as far as commenting on why he was sitting so far, but Taehyung politely refused it. 

He was still reeling under the fact that he was here, at a party hosted by near strangers who had just included him for their secret gathering for no reason. He had been invited to have fun, eat and drink like any other normal person. He was doing normal human stuff and that was a big deal. 

A big deal for someone who was indoctrinated to be a killing machine.

“They’re coming. Gotta hide Taehyung.”
Jungkook said, upon spying the other three walking on the sandy beach with their matching sandals.

There was a flurry of movements and it was Jimin who pulled him under the big blue couch with one finger on his mouth as if signifying him to be quiet. Taehyung didn’t quite get the hype of him being the surprise, but he was willing to participate in whatever was deemed fun by the others.

All to cover the severe flaw within him: the lack of knowledge of what was normal.

“Happy birthday Yoongi!”

Their shouts resounded louder in the tiny shack and he could hear everyone’s laugh clear and loud while his head dissociated behind the couch for a little too long. He had hidden in worse places for much longer, this was going to be a piece of cake. His body had come with its own way fo coping with hiding in small places for a long time and that was to lose track of it by completely disconnecting all the wires in his head.

And that was what happened at that moment as well.

“Taehyung, you can come out now.”

Those were the words he came back to and as he raised his head he found six pairs of eyes peering to take a close look at him. There was a different air around him, marred expressions and unspoken words of worry that bristled against his honeyed skin.

With a brush of his clothes, he stood up smiling prettily as if nothing happened. Taking the gift closer to Yoongi, who had a concerned face, Taehyung muttered,

“Happy birthday! Hope I didn’t disturb any of your plans. I brought you a gift, nothing too fancy.”

Yoongi mutely took it, eyes unblinking at Taehyung.

“Taehyung, are you okay?”

Was he?

Chapter Text

Was he okay?

Was he…

Was… 

“Yeah, I’m fine.”

The words rolled out of his tongue with the practised ease of a liar. A blank state for anyone to see, a lie caught within dreams unworded, a murmur in the rhythm of his heart. All of it produced from thin air.

Taehyung was a magician. 

No one would ever know that, the words were muttered with such precision that any human would believe it. It was almost all too easy to believe it than wonder and scrutinise the lie beneath it.

But of course, trained professionals that have lived the better halves of their life in this mess, just like him, would get it. It was in the slight change in tone— a robotic sense at it, the ticks in his twitching fingers, the shallow breaths and eye contact that seemed all too earnest for someone who had just completely zoned out a few minutes back.

“If you say so. Now, c’mon we’ve got a cake to cut!”
Hoseok’s voice cheerfully cut through the silence of the shed.

“Aish! You guys bought that too? I thought we all agreed on me not liking cake as much.”
Yoongi complained loud enough, though the light dusting of pink on his cheeks were so beautifully evident. 

Taehyung watched as they all moved to the table kept at the other side, away from him as if given he would join too. His eyes were blurry from having focussed too long, but he was sure that there was a hand on his wrist. The feel of it being comfortably warm, so unlike any touch he had felt.

Truth be told, the last touch of another human was Kwon’s rapidly cooling body from the poison. And before that was Minho’s completely cold leather gloves, the one he wore while driving as precautions for fingerprints and mostly for his own styling. The last loving touch Taehyung had felt though, was that of his mother’s feeble palm against his cheek, soft but so undeniably cold as she took her last breath.

So when Taehyung felt the hand on his wrist, he tried to focus on the blurry image in front of him to know who it was. 

It was Jimin, a warm smile accompanying the touch, as he waited while the others arranged the plates for feasting and drinking.

Taehyung blinked softly, wondering why the other even waited. 

Assassins didn’t work as groups. It just wasn’t feasible and the only few times, he vowed never to do it again. It was troublesome, it was tough and just unnecessary in the long run. And assassins definitely didn’t wait for others— he had seen that happen when he was stuck alone in a mission after being abandoned by his teammates.

Assassins left each other to die, because it wasn’t in their playbook.

Complete the job and leave.

So for one to wait, especially the one being stranger, Taehyung was weary. But then Jimin with his pretty and soft smile, urged him to join along for the supper, a soft beck in his movements and a tug in the wrist.

And Taehyung just followed the other, still quite out of it as visible to everyone else present there but no one wished to comment on it. 

“Well, who said anything about it being “cake” cake?”
Namjoon asked, a little mischievously in his tone.

“Oh c’mon. Is that what I think it is?”

“Hm…let’s see shall we?”
Seokjin said, enjoying the way Yoongi’s face contorted with barely contained joy.

“You idiots.”

“Look, we couldn’t decide on one. So, Jimin bought the brownie-ice cream cake and Seokjin bought whatever this is.”
Jungkook added in, as he pulled the ice cream cake case from the little cooler box they had.

Taehyung had almost been sure it was for the beer, but it wasn’t.

“Hey, don’t disrespect my efforts. I even made it sit like a cat.”
Seokjin muttered, as he proudly presented his creation on the table.

“What even is in it?”

“Pizza cake?  Either way it has a base, sauce and toppings so, I guess it qualified for a pizza. Salami roses on top and just a lot of savoury stuff that Yoongi likes!”
Seokjin’s proud mumble was overpowered by the light dusting of pink on his cheeks, so vivid in Taehyung’s eyes.

There was a moment of silence, as if waiting for one of them to take the bait and continue further without actually hurting Seokjin’s efforts which were…not bad. Just his vision was very difficult to come by.

Taehyung though, had this unexplainable urge to let the older know that it was the cutest attempt ever and that he would eat it whole, even if he burst at the seams since olives were his hard no-go items of interest in culinary.

They were just weird and tasted even weirder.

But what was the most weird part of the whole thing was how Taehyung’s heart was singing a tune he hadn’t heard. One that made sense, one that sang for…Seokjin? Jimin? Yoongi? All of them? He just didn’t understand what was happening when he never had this urge of pleasing them and making them know that they were everything.

Everything to him.

But he didn’t know them. Neither did they. No, they definitely didn’t know him , right? 

Then how was it fair to have this tingling in the chest that said ‘they were his people…his forever people, just you wait.’ Especially for someone like them . They, who had been warm and kind and everything nice in this town. But also they, who he had no idea of, whether of the singsong tales in the future or of the way their eyes sparkled with something he recognised all too well. Too raw, too known, too fiery.

He just didn’t know anymore.

“It looks…convincing.”
Yoongi’s strained voice came through, breaking his thoughts.

“You don’t sound so convinced though, hyung.”

“No no I like this.”

That had Jungkook giggling mischievously as he saw how Seokjin’s lips turned up in a frown and Yoongi’s hand that hovered over the other’s in an attempt to pacify.

“Now blow the candles then, so we can taste all this.”

Taehyung stood beside Jimin, watching as the birthday boy closed his eyes, making a wish and then blowing the candle. He hadn’t spoken as much, but the whole banter had him smiling wider than he ever had. Soon, it was time to sit around the eat with Yoongi specifically, helping Taehyung get a serving after noticing how the younger was still hesitant around them.

There was something blooming underneath his skin, something floral and sweet. Something awfully close to care and satisfaction. Something so beautiful, so unlike his life— an odd fitting to this cracked piece called Taehyung. 

Something that he didn’t want to explore further and so the best way was to just push it away, mark it as something that had not been meant for him. After all, these six looked like they had spent eternities together, so perhaps a learnt habit.

Yeah, that was right. Yoongi, no, all of them were being sweet because they were just not acquainted how to be with friends and just assumed him to be one of them, nothing more. No. 

“You don’t like pizzas?”
Seokjin’s voice was soft and unsure.

Taehyung just kept his eyes on his plate, until the silence around him was all too eerie, making him whip his head up to Seokjin staring right back at him from the opposite end of the table.

“No. I like them.”

“Then?”

“Ah, just not fond of olives. But the sauce is really good! I love the tangy-spicy mix of it.”
Taehyung tried his best to look grateful, despite his unpolished self that had no real grip on it.

He had spent a decade being sneaky, marking his point, luring in people and dropping them to their knees with blood on their lips. He could charm a bark of wood with the right words and right expressions, partially learnt but mostly because the mix of his unsuspecting face and sweet mask that appeared all too caring. Every single person he knew had fallen in the trap at least once in their lives.

What power he held!

But the thing was, all of that was for show, a sort of act sewn together for him to entice them in breaking down their safety guards, walls that had been built over time to remain cautious of all too sweet faces. Sweet faces like his. Taehyung was a master at being a deceit, a liar, a performer here only to complete a task, specifically one that required one’s heart to cease from existing on shot.

Though this…this wasn’t on his game plan. No. This was completely out of order for him. He wasn’t equipped to be genuine, he just couldn’t. How do you respond to such soft words and softer eyes? He wasn’t sure, hell, he had no experience and acting like he knew it all by responding as how he had for the past years seemed so out of character for him.

It felt like he was deceiving them and he simply couldn’t digest that fact.

No, he was trying to be sincere and simple like normal people, not like an assassin who had a 10 step method on achieving his monthly count. 

“Oh! Well, I’m glad to hear that. Next time, I’ll keep that in mind.”
Seokjin smiled in a way that made his cheeks bunch up along with that curved smile.

Next time?

And so as if there hadn’t been a long pause, the conversations picked up just as smoothly.

“Hyung, any special wishes that we can fulfill?”
Hoseok asked, curious eyes peeking but the smile that was on his face was anything but that.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe not wake me up so early.”

“C’mon, you’ve gotta start up early in your bookstore, especially with your regulars who love taking books before going to work.”
Hoseok replied, cheerful in his element as Yoongi leaned on his own folded arms to stare at the sunset outside, seen through the makeshift window of sorts.

Jimin took the untouched piece of pizza from Taehyung’s plate and handpicked the olives out, even before the younger could question what was happening. All of it occurred in quiet tandem, like it was another day with them, like they hadn’t just known each other for hardly 3 weeks. None of them even interrupted or cast a glance as they continued the conversation.

Taehyung blinked and the piece was back on his plate— now devoid of olives.

“Can’t they come at a reasonable time? Who even reads at 7 in the morning?”
Yoongi whined, throwing his head back with a frown.

“I do!”

“Of course, you do. I’ve seen the piles of books by your bedside.”

An eye roll at Namjoon who looked proud and Yoongi was back to eating the turkey bits on his slice of pizza cake, used as decoration.

“Be grateful, it isn’t a cafe. I don’t know why people start lining up from 6:30. Mostly the ones from Seoul, no offense.”
Jimin groaned, eyes glancing towards Taehyung, who just shrugged with a non-committal hum.

“None taken.”

“I would take up the first shift but hyung doesn’t let me up either. He just whines and smothers me with his hugs.”
Jungkook said, head leaning against Namjoon’s shoulders with his black hair making a nice contrast against the other’s pastel yellow shirt.

“I love a clingy Yoongi.”
Hoseok piped in, hand over his mouth as he enthusiastically savoured the ice cream brownie combination.

—which in hindsight, could be in hopes to stop the brain freeze at the big bite. Taehyung could definitely relate.

“It wouldn’t be a problem if he slept at a reasonable time like the rest of us. He just stays up late doing stuff in his workshop—”
Seokjin complained, getting two more pieces for himself as Jungkook refused to eat out of his own plate.

Jungkook had now leaned in enough for Seokjin to feed him without having to strain his wrists. It seemed like he was adamant on not using his plate which was still clean as Hoseok too leaned across from Namjoon’s other side to wipe the other’s mouth.

“Whose noises by the way, are loud but I’ve learnt to tune them out.”
Jimin added, rolling his eyes as Yoongi did a childish poke of his tongue past his pink petal lips in retaliation.

Taehyung watched, looking away just as quickly as he felt his cheeks flare up on thoughts unsaid.

“Or busy with his computer stuff in the basement.”
Namjoon muttered, currently being squished from both sides as Hoseok’s and Jungkook’s bodies leaned

“You make it sound like I’m doing something illegal.”

“Well…”

“No, I just don’t get time elsewhere in the day and I really like to mess with the online beat mixer and sometimes, it’s just other stuff y’know.”

Just as Yoongi finished his explanation, there was a pip and then a squeak as Seokjin’s and Jungkook’s arms were locked in what Taehyung could only assume to be a tangle of limbs rather than an exclusive arm wrestling match.

“Guk-ah, you have your own cutlery—”

“Nuh-uh. Don’t have the energy for this.”
Jungkook muttered back with his face pressed closer to Seokjin in what seemed like a defiant pout with the wish of being fed all over it.

“And that’s why I told you not to pick Namjoonie up as part of your bicep flex or whatever you gym maniacs do.”
Seokjin rolled his eyes, while Namjoon’s cheeks were slightly aflame in red.

“Hey, you enjoyed the view!”

“I wouldn’t have, if it meant feeding you like a mama bird.”

“Would have.”

“Nope.”

Soon there was a pause, a moment of silence as they sized each other up, staring at each other intensely which had Taehyung worried about the possible conclusions of the same. As per his knowledge, it hardly ever ended without some animosity.

“Okay, okay before you both devolve into more of this, can I propose an alternative of both of you being right?”
Yoongi asked, voice cutting through which had Seokjin whining softly.

“Not fair.”

“One more complaint and I’m revoking all rights to my room and its contents.”
Yoongi tried, crossing his arms across his chest.

“You wouldn’t.”

“Oh, you watch me.”

“But that’s my room too.”
Seokjin grumbled, clear frown nestled between his eyebrows.

“Not anymore. No more of your—”

“Okay fine. Fine.”

As the conversation barely settled, there was a distinct noise from the back of Taehyung’s throat, soft and questioning which had them all turning to him with puzzled looks. That was when he asked slightly confused with suspicious eyes.

“Wait…you guys live together?”

“Duh, of course. Would be funny not to since—”

“Since we’re best friends. Literally did everything together till now.”

Taehyung chose to ignore the weird feeling that formed in the pit of his gut. The wrenching type of swirl that pulled on non-existent threads. The unnecessarily fearful one that brought a wave of envy alongside it. The crashing type that swept him under on being the outsider.

Just like he chose to ignore the weird silence that followed with Jimin taking over Jungkook’s sentence, a quick lapse in judgement he assumed but didn’t push further. He wouldn’t question them, not for the lies they would use to cover it up and definitely not for his own hopeless heart.

A heart that yearned for someone(s) to make him part of their lives, friends or not.

A heart that craved normalcy beyond all of his rugged past.

“Now, who’s ready for some drinks?”

The topic from before was under the rug pretty quickly as eager hands took out glasses, bottles and more for the perfect drink concoction that would have them relaxed. Taehyung was a little skeptical on getting drunk, though his inhibitions had taken a back seat, heavily so. He was freer, smiling wide enough for the whole world to see.

(What he didn’t notice were the pairs of eyes that watched him closely, with uncalculating, intuitive smiles that had spread across their faces. What he didn’t account for were the hands that came forward to help him get up from his chair. What he didn’t see were the faltering steps as slow realisation settled in faster than they had expected. 

Very small ascertaining facts that wouldn’t necessarily change the course of their plan, but enough for them to stop and admire.)

But none of it meant that he had let go of his basic instincts. Ones that had surely been written in his DNA, forever changed to course through him. One's that had been utilised to attain the position in the top of the hierarchy. The same instincts that had kept him alive for so long, especially with the kind of work he did. 

The killer’s instincts.

Sharp and quick in its wake. Ones that had him noticing the flaws and holes in the setting around him. Ones that had trained him to be as swift and merciless as the predators of the wild. Ones that laid dormant over the time he had spent but never completely vanished from sight. 

Always breathing under his skin to make a comeback when necessary.

Taehyung knew where his limits laid, alcohol or otherwise. He knew of the potential outcomes that would follow through upon insistence. He knew of it all, as he accepted the beer bottle from Jungkook's colder hands.

“Ah, we should definitely take out our board games. It's boring without any other entertainment here.”
Jimin complained, taking a gulp of vodka from his glass.

“I'll look to connect the television on this side next week. Thought my only concern is that we don't use it as often so not really the safest moved “
Yoongi murmured, quite easily sipping his whiskey, a complete contrast to Jimin’s.

“No need. Let this remain as a place without the modern ways of enjoying free time. We're gonna get more board games though. And I'm gonna win them all, just wait and watch.”
Seokjin said, lips sneakily curved to a playful smirk.

“No you're not.”

“And why is that?”

“I'm the birthday boy, don't I get special privileges?”
Yoongi said, dramatically widening his eyes and intensifying the small pout off his lips.

“Uh-huh. And if everyone followed this logic, we wouldn’t be where we are right now.”
Seokjin gave back, just as Namjoon reached across to ease the small frown on Yoongi’s forehead.

“Not fair.”

“All is fair in love and war. And right now, it is war.”

That's how the battles began. 

Well, Taehyung would admit that the battles weren't really as exclaimed to be. But the way each of them were slightly buzzed, complaining about Seokjin cheating, pouting at the losses incurred in their fictional world, words stumbling over as the drinks kept magically appearing all the same, he would have to say to agree, after all.

This has gotta be the most completely charged group he had seen in his life. And it wasn't even over stuff like drugs or various other imported value objects but rather over fake money in Monopoly. 

Taehyung was in pieces, trying to capture the way Jimin was fighting Seokjin over stolen money as Namjoon filled the other’s glass with soda while Jungkook had cuddled up to Yoongi and Hoseok yowling about how mean they had been about taking away his glass— which in hindsight, was for the greater good.

“Maybe if you weren’t a crook then I would have had it.”
Jimin said passionately in his argument.

“That’s called using your head, baby. Try that next time.”
Seokjin cheekily replied.

“Don’t patronise me. I’m better than you. You cheated your way through it.”

“Well, crook or not. I don’t care if it’s winning me the prize.”

“There’s no prize. What are you even talking about?”
Namjoon asked genuinely puzzled at the same time as Jimin who went on about,

“Yeah let’s see how you’re gonna win me over from this.”

There was a sudden silence as everyone looked at Jimin who broke it with a practiced sassy shrug.

“What? I’m clearly a prize here.”

“Oof Seokjinnie hyung, you’re losing privileges left and right today.”
Hoseok muttered, crinkled eyes in laughter.

“Help me Hoseok-ah.”
Seokjin mouthed loudly, eyes turned down in fake distress.

“No can do when I have this cuddle monster all over me. He didn’t sleep last night, waking himself over getting Yoongi something which I still don’t know.”

“Tae-yah, want anything else?”
Yoongi’s fingers, cooling and pleasant were on his cheeks as the older’s voice pulled him away from the enthusiastic grumbling.

Taehyung looked at Yoongi, cheeks flush with the two bottles he had and with the obvious cheer running high in this small shed. His eyes swept across the birthday boy’s face, soft and pale and so so perfect. But his lips were drawn in a line as compared to a smile that would put his pink gums on display.

(Taehyung wasn’t sure when or how he had memorized what Yoongi’s smile looked like, but he was glad. Though, he tried to placate himself owing it to the assassin’s attention to detail. 

Yeah, that wasn’t going so well as his gaze slipped back just enough to catch Namjoon’s dimpled smile.)

“Do you—”

Before Yoongi could finish his sentence, Taehyung’s long fingers were on the other’s mouth, pulling at the edges to mimic a smile. Taehyung was insistent on making it right as the concentrated furrow made its way on his face.

This had Yoongi chuckling with his shoulders shaking silently. 

And assuming that as answer enough, Yoongi left him to the drama unfolding in front of him which now had Jimin on top of a laid down Seokjin with fierce eyes as his lips barely moved, pout quite loudly making the statement. Namjoon had Seokjin’s head in his lap given the floor below them which wasn’t quite the sturdy one since it was a sparse one built on sand.

Meanwhile Jungkook was poking against Seokjin’s cheek with Hoseok right behind him, asking him if he will lend him the new consoles and parts.

“All of you are ganging up on me now.”
Seokjin cried, while Namjoon gently weaved his fingers through Seokjin’s brown hair in a soothing manner.

“No. This is your punishment. Gimme the consoles. All mine for next month please.”

“Jimin-ah.”
Seokjin whispered, blatantly ignoring Jungkook who punched him against his arm.

Quite hard. 

Taehyung really couldn’t testify on that.

“All of you are bullies. Taehyung’s the only real one. Not a word against his hyung.”

And all of a sudden, everyone’s eyes were on him as he raised his arm gently to wave a hello.

“Yeah because you didn’t take as much from either.”
Jimin pouted but his gaze was gentle as he met Taehyung’s eyes.

“Maybe if you all weren’t gremlins, we wouldn’t still be so sober.”
Seokjin muttered, eliciting a series of giggles from Hoseok.

“Fine fine. I’ll give…”

Taehyung tuned most of it despite his eyes being pretty set on Seokjin being cuddled by Jungkook and Jimin, quite aggressively. He didn’t register anything beyond it as a chill passed down his body, the lack of something solid and warm pressing against him. One that was a reminder of who he was, an absolute loner.

How lonely he was!

Not long after, he felt his own eyes droop with sleepiness lined quietly. And without a single whisper, he laid his head against the couch leg hoping to catch a few minutes before he had to head home eventually. Anything to rest his weary body that hadn’t done much today and yet wanted to escape to the promised neverland as opposed to going back.

Back to the cold breezes of the ocean with not a single lick of the warmth of having multiple people around him, boisterous and loud, pleasingly so. 

Yoongi wasn’t all too sure of their existing plan.

Not that he would ever say that to their faces. 

But he had an inkling, a hunch, call it whatever but the multiple years in business had paid off it would seem in building that gut feeling. One that persisted through the time he had spent with them. He wasn’t trying to be mean or doubtful, but the fact that they were here chattering like carefree kids on a vacation wasn’t making it easy.

He loved his boys, his five companions who had sailed through all of their world’s struggles with a wide smile stretched across their face and a razor-sharp knife pointed at the neck of their opponent. 

He trusted his team. They were the best ones out there with skills enough to be granted this mission and he didn’t doubt them one bit.

But Yoongi knew it all in their sneaking glances and gentleness that they were on the trip down the slippery edge. A very cautious edge for one step out and there was no way to recover, it was all down from there. 

Maybe it was the years in him, the years he had spent in solitude, the years he spent with various targets— all pliant and welcoming after his constant presence. Maybe it was just his intuition speaking and not something serious but the way Taehyung was had his heart mangled in a mess.

It was in the cautious eyes, the trembling shiver, the spaced out look on his face, and the hardened muscles that flexed in response to any sound. It was in everything that Taehyung was, skittish and strong at the same time— the most confusing combination Yoongi had ever encountered. He was trying not to push past, but something was amiss, beyond the files and information they had.

Yoongi thought of it all, as he walked back to the shed with a few bottles of water after having exhausted all their resources. The loud giggling from within gave him enough reassurance that they were there and well. He really didn’t have to worry given they were always quick-witted in the face of danger, but his mind was a traitorous bitch that came with the worst of scenarios making him worry.

But he was meet with the sight of a napping Taehyung whose head was uncomfortably supported by the couch leg and that made Yoongi wince quite loudly. He could only imagine the pain that would shoot up tomorrow.

“Huh?”
Namjoon’s voice broke through as everyone else stared at Yoongi and then followed his line of sight.

“Oh…what do we do?”
Jimin asked, a little cautious as he got off Seokjin’s body to help him sit up.

Yoongi didn’t answer. He just set the bottles down as he walked over to Taehyung and took off his own precious (read as: favourite) black jacket, bunching it up as a makeshift pillow for the awkward position that Taehyung’s lolling head was in.

“Do we wait? Or take him—”

“No. It wouldn’t be right. He can’t be there.”
Hoseok cut off Jungkook’s words quickly. 

There was a collective unsaid conclusion that had been reached between them. And that was on not waking Taehyung up. They didn’t know why, but they just couldn’t fathom waking the man who had his eyebrows furrowed, deep in sleep after a particularly tipsy night.

Or maybe it was that they didn’t trust themselves to drive over there, given the buses were scarce this late. They wouldn’t want to get into freak accidents like that.

Yeah, that was it. Or so they tried to make themselves believe.

“So we camp out here tonight. I mean I can rummage out some blankets or—”
Jungkook muttered, once again cut off by Seokjin whose eyes glinted with mirth.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Oh, he was pointing at their entangled limbs that did a very good job of warming them up.

“Sounds good, hm?”
Namjoon hummed as he leaned heavily on Jungkook, who seemed more sober than most of them. 

Jungkook simply wrapped his arms around Namjoon’s waist, pulling his close as the cold breeze from one of the tiny crooked holes in their patchwork of a wall came about. Hoseok let his fingers draw random shapes on Namjoon’s exposed forearm, awakening more goosebumps along its trail nad thus, eliciting a hiss.

“Fine, I won’t do that anymore.”
Hoseok fondly said, laughing when Namjoon grabbed his hand which was then held between his own as a means to warm up.

“Jimin-ah, help me. I’ll set up the fort.”
Seokjin muttered, as he got up from the floor with practiced ease that still had each of them staring.

Mostly at the effortlessness of the oldest’s movements. Yeah mostly. 

And of course, his ridden up shirt that exposed a delicious sliver of skin.

“Hyung, we aren’t doing that, c’mon. You get so into it and—”
Jimin whined, more complaining than anything.

“Shush and help your elders.”

“3 years. Just 3 years.”
Jimin grumbled as he walked behind Seokjin diligently.

Yoongi watched it all with a disarming level of adoration, very dangerous for a man whose very job was to claim blood, cold and calculated. But here he was, letting joy find its way into his life, filling him to the fingertips as he met Hoseok’s knowing gaze that said the same words.

‘I wish this was our eternity. This. Us.’

And somehow that future, that forever didn’t just have six people in it. Alarmingly seven. Weird. 

Yoongi wasn’t going to think more about it though. He had learnt through the years that when things had to happen, it eventually would. There was no point dissecting and anticipating it, especially when it came to things like love and forever.

It was better left untouched.

For now, they had a mission, one that was targeted and clear. 

They just had to make sure that they completed it without hitches. 

(Yoongi swore on his hunch, but his hands still moved soft under Taehyung’s craned neck to help him in an easy sleeping position, all while maintaining the needed quiet in hopes the other wasn’t jostled. 

He swore on it as he heard Jungkook's and Jimin's soft aw upon their sighting of Taehyung completely curling into himself as he slept peacefully on Yoongi's makeshift pillow-jacket. 

He swore on it when his own breath hitched as his fingertips grazed along Taehyung's warm cheeks, curiosity peaking past what was availed at him.

He was sure to get the job done.)

When Taehyung did wake up the next morning, he was in for a surprise. 

His body felt unusually warm, pleasantly so. He was created but in the most delicious way possible. It was possibly one of the best mornings he had experienced in a long time. The filtered sunlight from the hastily covered windows made it all the more dreamy for him too open his eyes, like e prince charming being pampered at every beck and call of his. 

But before he could get too far in his fantasy, he tried piecing together where he was, for the room was unfamiliar, so were the colourful walls and decorated ceilings that had the night sky painted on it. Beyond all the visual notings, he focussed on the feel of his own body.

There were two arms over his waist and fingers lightly threaded into his messy hair. Taehyung tried to move his head in order to see the faces of the perpetrators — Yoongi and Hoseok. 

His heart hammered loudly, just enough to scare him that the noise would wake them up. His hands felt clammy as the realisation struck him.  The pleasantness of the morning now settled into an uncomfortably slow molasses drip that made him uneasy all across. 

This wasn't in his not-so game plan.

He was getting close. He was getting attached. He was losing track of his original plot.

He was being normal .

For now there was also the soft murmur of existence made its way into his head. He was being cared for, he was being shown affection, he was being treated well, more than what his job description was. He was being cared for as another human, maybe more beyond the extent of him being an assassin who could brave it all without an ounce of praise for his hard work. 

The little kid in him preened excitedly. 

But then the cold splash of imaginary water hit his face, washing all that excitement in one swipe.

He couldn’t be here like this. 

No. 

What was he thinking? This went against everything he had been taught. He had to move. Fast. He couldn’t let himself slip like this. No. Just no. 

With the panic still settling in, he formulated an easy plan to get out without disturbing them— all six of them who were asleep on the floor with sparse blankets across their bodies, limbs lost between the heat of it. Taehyung moved slowly freeing himself from their grasp, inch by inch, away from them. He quietly noted where his own belongings were, neatly placed on the table and the shoes against the wall to the door.

Moving on his tiptoes, he put his shoe on and turned back one time to look at them.

This felt oddly like all those stupid scenes of the morning after a night stand and Taehyung had to stifle a laugh for he had done that too. But none of those nights with those faceless people had been close to whatever he was feeling right now. 

This blooming warmth that spread across his chest ina way that soothed him while also terrifying him beyond words. He wasn’t supposed to be attached to people, much less strangers but here he had been in their arms, fulfilling also those sore spots that ached to be loved. Here he was, standing still with gleaming shiny eyes.

He would meet them again. After all, they were co-workers and essentially a part of this tiny town which had no more than 2000 people across its expanse. He would see them laughing, perhaps even join in for one more, he would talk to them about the current topics of interest. He would do all that, but just not like this.

Not like this— vulnerable, soft and broken. 

But then, there was a whisper. Gentle like they didn’t want to spook him, the deer lost to the headlights. 

“Thank you for coming. See you on Monday?”

His eyes drifted past to the source of that voice. It was Yoongi, tussled hair and bleary eyes but oh so so tender. 

Taehyung could almost feel that tenderness capture him by his limbs, pulling him back to that cocoon of warmth. He really wished for that as he watched Yoongi with hooded eyes, longing for that but eventually settled for a nod as an answer, as he slipped out of the shed hastily.

The last image captured in his head was that of Yoongi smiling all too softly as he flopped his head back on to the barely made pillow, cuddling closer to Hoseok who let out a faint whimper and with a soft unconscious noise of being happy on getting back the human warmth.

Taehyung would carry that image for the rest of eternity, perhaps his only souvenir of this vacation.  

“Fresh and early!”

Taehyung smiled as Namjoon’s words greeted him. 

He had woken up fresher than expected. His morning had been good. Warm cascading showers, pretty sunrises from the balcony, nice outfit choice and an overall good mood. A rarity in itself but it had become quite many in the past month of starting here. 

A progress as he would like to call it.

Maybe it was owing to his own path of life, away from the constant threat of violence. Or maybe it was this quaint town that had the prettiest views and a perfect escape from all he has known. Or maybe it was just his new blooming friendship with six people who seemed all too eager for him.

Things had turned out way better than the party day. A whole 6 weeks later and he had easily moulded into being part of their friendship group.

A difficult transition on his part, who never had adult friends like this.

But he was getting there.

Sure, on Yoongi’s birthday, he had still been quiet and observant. A little shy and on the edges, only enjoying their conversations from the outer circle, still cautious. But these past few weeks, it had just become easier, changing from that very day on. 

They made it all so easy, easy like he was breathing in and out. Easy enough to be, exist in his elements while being the social person he ought to be in a functioning society. Just enough walls broken to make a difference.

Taehyung hadn’t known of friendships as such that didn’t require him to change his ways, that didn’t require him to mask his fears, that didn’t require him to be anything more in order to fit in. 

He knew when Jimin’s eyes were on him when he got a little too quiet, reminiscing about all the gruesome horrors. Or when Seokjin’s hands would find his when the tremble in his hand just wouldn’t go away. Or when Hoseok would let him twiddle the strings of his hoodie as a means of distraction, putting an arm across his shoulders.

They were there in ways small and big. 

And Taehyung just didn’t know if all of that was acceptable. The ways of friendship that he had never experienced in this sense.

The ones he knew included Minho being a strong support behind him as he went in with a rifle and came out clean and pristine as ever. The ones he knew were of professional setups and cleaning the remnants of the crime committed. The ones he was acquainted with were that of bare glances, thumbs up and quiet solidarity.

This was new in all ways considered for they were loud when needed while also knowing when to let silence blanket them. They were just different, all too different than what Taehyung had known before to an extent that had him cautious and suspicious.

By the slightest.

After all, he hadn’t forgotten the evidences from their first meeting though, the recurrences of those conceited hints had reduced, it didn’t mean that it didn’t exist. 

Taehyung hadn’t gained his name out of nowhere. He knew of it, but he had allowed himself the break of no longer carrying it and perhaps, just perhaps, let himself be adored for once.

He had to do justice to that hardened heart that was peeling back the painful reminders of why it had assumed such a shape in the first place.

His 15 year old self who had grown overnight deserved it.

And so he watched as Namjoon put in his regular order of oat milk latte with the raspberry muffin that had just been freshly made in the cafe. Taehyung took out his cash, paying as necessary and then settled in his favourite corner of the cafe.

He had recently picked up a new hobby of sketching, fueled by Jungkook’s gentle push towards his own stationery that included everything from vast canvasses to tiny sketchbooks. 

“Helps me destress after a long day. Keeps my mind occupied from everything, my mistakes mostly.”
Jungkook had muttered once, as he showed Taehyung his collection in the back room. 

Taehyung didn’t voice it out but he wondered what mistakes could possibly happen in a bookstore enough to cause stress for a man like Jungkook.

“Right. And I’ve seen you more stressed after a bad painting.”
Hoseok muttered, as he came from behind Jungkook with hands full of snacks as ordered.

“Hyung, stop embarrassing me. I’m being cool here.”

“Uh-huh, very cool!”
Hoseok said, a little distracted by Jungkook’s biceps that were now aiding the younger in lifting the large acrylic canvas painting of an architectural miracle.

Taehyung saw the appeal of it as the half-sleeve shirt rode up with the exertion, making the golden skin all the more visible. 

“Well, as opposed to whatever said, drawing and painting need not be perfect. So really, try your hand it. Might help with clearing your head.”
Jungkook added, now peering at Taehyung with wide, hopeful eyes.

“Yeah, don’t compete with the maknae. He’s a perfectionist through and through.”
Yoongi added from outside, making them all laugh.

Taehyung wondered if they knew of how he too had the same tendencies, just not in painting perhaps. But definitely in his strongest area of shooting the right shot for a through and through injury. Clean enough for no one to hold him accountable as he fled the scene like a shadow in the night.

Yeah, he wasn’t far off from being an annoying perfectionist.

Though right now, that meant him sketching the scenery outside which was still stagnant given it was all too early for the children to be walking to their schools or the ahjummas to bargain at the farmer’s market. And so he picked his black pinpoint pen, making a general outline, filling it in, all lost in the piece he was creating to be aware of the barista who was putting down the plate.

“One order coming right up for the pretty boy!”
Jimin’s familiar merry voice came, making Taehyung jerk his head up and immediately turn to a smile.

“Wah, that’s so good! Do one of the cafe and i’m putting it in a frame to be hung right there!”
Jimin said, sitting down in the opposite chair as he gazed at Taehyung’s creation with wondrous eyes.

Taehyung, who was busy sipping the latte, spluttered before gaining composure as the red spread quickly across his cheeks and up to his ears.

“You should ask Jungkook. He’s a better—”

“Nuh-uh. Want yours.”
Jimin answered, as he leaned his face against his propped up elbows.

“Besides, we have way too many of Jungkook’s artworks flooding in our rooms. He gifted us one for the new years’.”
Namjoon said, sitting down beside Jimin.

Given that the cafe had only one other customer, Taehyung supposed that they had time to rest and chit-chat as such.

“Acting as if you didn’t tear up at his drawing of Monie.”

“Hey, that’s different.”
Namjoon said, jutting his lips into a pout at the reminder of his dog.

“Okay, I will.”
Taehyung replied, not wanting any more of those piercingly sweet words that were hitting harder than expected.

They talked about some new installation that was supposed to be put up the next Friday in the town hall, hoping that the festivities would pull in more people. And when all was done, with the queues beginning to form, Jimin bid a reluctant goodbye and Namjoon hugged him as Taehyung took their leave to his own workplace. 

Going through the motions of his day seemed easier each day, the new routine settling in effortlessly. 

This felt like his new normal and that very thought was dangerous.

Taehyung wasn’t made for the calm. 

He was fierce and strong, not to mince garlic and laugh about the trash cans. But he was trying each day, to fit in, to be better, to enjoy the lack of chaos that came with unexpected check-ins at the ports and random assignments in unknown lands.

Each of those tries for a better life— one that would soon be destroyed and crumbled by a mere phonecall— were met with equal reward of just letting his inner self shine.

But the threat of this falling to the ground did cause quite a few troubles along the way, impending doom manifested in anxiety that had no cure despite it all. The way his mind reeled at every ping of his phone which was usually a brand advertising their product, the way his head flinched to an armed position at any noise that was close to the ones he had during the darkest of nights and the way his eyes scanned for anyone that might pose a harm to his identity.

An identity he had hardly concealed with his name said in loud cheers and warm hugs. He had never hidden it away.

Especially not after Namjoon’s comment during their first meeting. 

The older had apologised quite a few times after that, for an unknowing hurt caused. But Taehyung had come around to cherishing the one thing that his mother had lovingly chosen and given to him. The one thing that marked his existence in words carefully drawn in sand. His name. His word. His presence.

A wish for a life filled with greatness. 

Chapter Text

A push to the side. 

One jerk to his shoulders and he was falling to the ground. Wet and muddy with rain. 

Taehyung could already feel it seep through his cargo pants, tear by the side. 

But his eyes were fixed on the closing shop, the one which held the most precious commodity as of now— peaches. 

A luxury, some might say. And Taehyung would whole heartedly agree on it. Peaches weren't part of their tax bracket. Tax hm, not when his household had no job. 

Well, budget then.

Peaches were something to be seen on televisions and perhaps the magazines and dream of days when his hands weren't rugged with work, when his head was cushioned by more than just bunched up towels over old rattled ones, when he wasn't burdened by the very price of a few peaches. 

Peaches were expensive. They were previous commodity, to be only bought, offered and consumed during special occasions. 

And right now, Taehyung was sure it covered all the checkboxes for that. 

The doctor has given his mother three months. Three months to live. Three months for her body to slowly break down past the threshold of repair. Three months for him to revel in her presence which would soon turn to dust. 

An information that wasn't supposed to be known by him. But he has pestered and prodded long enough for them to forgo her initial hesitation in letting Taehyung know. And he knew why she was keen on it, the reason being blaringly obvious to everyone.

After all, he was still here little kid, barely 15, trying to navigate the world as it was. 

So with that deadline hanging over their head, Taehyung had picked up his old savings that he had kept for emergency situations and walked to the big fruit stall in the centre of the city to get his mother some peaches. To get her favourite fruit that she had only tasted once before in her life. 

He didn't want to say it out loud, but if this was her last year to live then he was going to make it possible for her to experience all the things she had hoped for during retirement. He was going to help her live like she always wanted to, even at the cost of his own life's choices. 

“Are you okay?”

Taehyung's eyes peered up at the voice of the older woman who was standing over him. 

Taehyung nodded, slowly getting up from the ground and before he could fumble for his own kerchief to wipe the big muddy stains, there was an extended hand towards him with a pristine white handkerchief. 

Looking up from the outstretched hand, there was a body attached to it naturally. The woman looked like she was slightly out of place in this busy market, especially with all her jewellery and expensive shoes tapping against the road. And perhaps it was also the three men behind her, who looked aloof and not quite there but still tracking her movements easily.

“Yeah, I just lost my footing.”

His reply was short at best, not wanting to pull it further than necessary.

He bowed in gratitude, a little hesitant to take it, but with a little more silent insistence, he used it as intended by the lady. Just as he changed off his clothes, his hands reached for his pockets only to find it empty. 

His wallet wasn't there. 

The worn out brown faux leather wallet which was a new dupe that had always nestled in his pockets, now with his savings enough to get the peaches and some groceries for the week was missing. He remembered all too distinctly that he had kept it in and had posted it twice to make sure it was there. But now, it wasn't there. 

His wallet had been pickpocketed. 

As the frantic sweeping across his pockets continued, the last one again asked, 

“Is something wrong?”

And Taehyung who had tried to hold it together through it all— through his mother's first fainting spell, through the taxing treatments, through the dropping of his school years in exchange of being the primary caretaker, through losing friendships, through the initial shock of the verdict for his mother's life, through holding onto the very fact that soon he would have no one to call home, he had stayed strong— finally spilled. 

Not a single tear drop shed given that his eyes were the gateway for his mother to fuss and worry over him. She could spot his sadness even from a mile away and he was never going to let her know of the gnawing anxiety and sadness within him.

For he knew that it would only end in a cycle of her guilt being processed further into his hurt.

Now though, on the dirty road with the gentle hand of a stranger on his forearm, Taehyung could finally let the pent up tears fall one by one. He was overwhelmed, working his mind past what a teenager should as he tried to think of how he would get the peaches, he so desperately wanted his mother to taste. 

And this pickpocketing was his final straw as his cheeks were wet at an increasingly concerned speed.

No, it wasn’t loud. There was no fanfare regarding it. His eyes watered, one drop falling at the same speed as his own hands swiped them away, not wanting to show his flaws.

Fragility was man’s biggest weakness.

“Oh.”

Taehyung had almost forgotten the kind lady, until there was another handkerchief pressed against his frail cheeks. He felt his body grow warm, impossibly so, as the embarrassment filled him up quite quickly. He couldn’t possibly be crying in public like this. 

No, he needed to maintain his dignity, even if it was one with the dirt.

“How about I join you on your shopping trip and maybe help you find what you need?”

Taehyung looked at her, apprehensive at the offer. Until, he finally caved in, wondering what was the worst that could happen. 

(Possibly a bad decision, when he looked back. But he was a naive 15 yea old, could you blame him?)

And that was how he ended up in front of the peaches crate, looking longingly but he couldn’t buy it. No, he had no money and he would never stoop low enough to steal. He wasn’t a bad person and stealing was wrong on so many accounts.

(Oh, if he only knew how many more atrocities were written in his life?)

“Are 3 boxes enough for you?”
The lady asked, soft and gentle.

Taehyung’s eyes were wide as he understood the implications of it, especially after he saw her manicured fingers took out 6 clean crisp notes to give it to the owner. 

“But, I don't— can’t repay that.”

“You don’t have to. I did it, because I wanted to.”

“That isn’t…it is not.”

“Take this as kindness from a stranger. We all need a little bit of that, don’t we?”

Taehyung could only nod dumbly as he saw the nice lady give him a card and wave goodbye before vanishing with her entourage.

It was only later when he dialed the number on that card, utilising the services which soon led to him being part of the food chain. One that was ruthless with its thirst, draining him off his anger and hurt until there was nothing quite productive except for the kill count to his name. 

That was his beginning as the assassin, Kim Taehyung. 

Feared and dangerous, living up to the terror and havoc of his name.

“You need to come over some day! Seokjinie and Hoseokie hyung have kept you too busy. Our business isn’t picking up from the lack of your presence.”
Jungkook muttered, as he lazily popped a cherry into his mouth.

Cherries that had been specifically ordered for the cafe’s baked goods, but were currently sitting in the restaurant’s freezer due to lack of space. Hoseok had offered their unused space after hearing Jimin fret around for quick storage.

They had all gathered during the slow hours aka the peak napping time when the sun was clouded, still hours away from setting down beyond the horizon. Seokjin had tried a new recipe and so after eating it all up, here they were resting and chatting like a big ol’ group of friends.

“That’s so rude, Jungkook-ah.”
Seokjin muttered, hand to his chest.

“What? I’m just saying the truth. Taehyung’s presence really brightens the place. And I don’t know, he’s some sort of lucky charm cause whenever he comes, the business is peaking. Booming even.”

“Maybe because he usually comes during holidays, which means others do too.”

“Maybe, maybe not. All I know is Yoongi hyung keeps musing over his list of books that he wants Tae to read.”
Jungkook replied to Jimin, who was sitting beside Taehyung.

“Hey. I don’t do that.”

“Yeah, because you do worse—”

Yoongi’s hand was on Jungkook’s mouth before he could continue that sentence. And Taehyung looked away in hopes to not cause more embarrassment but he guessed the damage was already done, looking at the red blooming on Yoongi’s cheeks.

“I’ll try to stop by this weekend, hyung.”
Taehyung replied instead, directing his attention back to Yoongi.

Jungkook’s cackling laughter followed with giggles of Hoseok who was currently jabbing at Yoongi’s left side playfully. 

“There’s a movie that is supposed to be released next week, if I’m not wrong. Anyone wanna join me? Might be boring because I know you don’t like supernatural horror as much, but…if any?”
Namjoon asked, soft and hesitant.

“Sure.”

“Of course.”

“Sign me up!”

“Is it the one with the poster outside Choi’s shop?”

“Only if you let me grip my hand tightly without complaints.”

All five of them sprung up at the same time with questions of their own. And if Taehyung said it didn’t surprise him by the slightest then it would be a lie. 

Sure, he knew they were close close. But there was something about how they perked up to answer, like they couldn’t stand the thought of Namjoon being hesitant about asking them in the first place. Perhaps it was in their eyes, or the way their lips curved up or just the way their words had the assured tilted response tone.

Taehyung was in awe, despite the months spent with them. For he had seen them with their limbs tangled in bedsheets quite a few times and yet each time, they took out his breath at the simplest gestures of care. Something he had been deprived of at this level before.

Yes, he had been shown care when necessary but it was all clinical at best and obligational at worst.

This felt warm like the crackles of burning embers on a snowy day, natural like the breaths that synced in harmony, and comfortable like the cosy blanket nest in his bedroom. 

And this wasn’t even directed to him, he was just a spectator to this phenomenon. Just that had the cockles of his heart warming, deliciously burning his skin for the good.

“Yes, it is the same poster. And yes, I will hold your hand.”
Namjoon replied to Yoongi and Seokjin respectively.

“Cool. I’m tagging along too.”

And then there was a beat of silence as everyone stared at Taehyung expectantly, wondering what his response would be. Gulping harshly, Taehyung nodded as a yes to joining them as well.

Though, he wasn’t sure why he was being included in their big plans. But, he could entertain a little bit, he hoped. After all, what better business has he got other than to relax and wile away the time given as part of his extended vacation that bordered a suspension?

(Yeah, Taehyung didn’t really want to think too much about that.)

And soon the chatter regarding the furniture shop that was being opened next to the bookstore and how they needed to buy a new coffee table continued, which proved to be both a blessing and a curse.

A blessing because he didn’t have to think and answer further, be the friend they had seemingly assumed of. The perfect guy, shy but good enough to be part of their small town group of youth, enjoying life as is. 

And that brought him to the next point of how he stumbled over his words whenever he was with them. 

It was weird, because he had successfully pulled millionaires and their heirs off their feet, feeding lies to their beautiful dream for the need of a perfect target. For the need of a single point shot to not leave a mess. His charm and wits had carried him farther than anyone, aiding in the presentation of his expansive skills.

But with these six people, he felt tongue-tied. As if he had never uttered a word, or interacted with a single human in his life. It was jarring how the switch flipped over, as his brain turned to mush. Perhaps it was just the vacation which had his skills taking the rest as he tried to be how it had always longed to be— normal. 

And that was the curse, as he was left high strung from the mere words. They had awaited his approval to go together for a movie. They hadn’t imposed on him either, just given him the option to join as well. They weren’t expecting anything from him, a choice— something he had given up on since long.

If he wasn’t so good at masking his emotions and reining in everything, he would have definitely broken down, heart shattering into a million pieces at the very act of care.

But he was a master at this game and so, he just put up a smile, joining in with nods and hums, effectively shutting down that loud part within him.

“Well, we’ll have to leave soon. I don’t think Yeonie can hold the fort for longer.”
Jimin quipped up, as he got up with one hand still placed around Yoongi’s shoulder.

Namjoon laughed along with Jimin, as he stood up too. Hoseok hummed with a smile as he took the used steel plates away to the sink in the back. It had already been quite the 45 minutes of eating and talking, faster than most days but today was no ordinary day, given all of them had gathered on a working day during their self-imposed break.

“Clean up before the evening customers make their appearance.”
Seokjin muttered, ruffling Jungkook’s hair as he walked to see the other two out.

If there was one thing that Hoseok prided himself in was that he could easily tune himself to fit other’s emotions and thoughts. A trait that he and Jungkook had been endowed with and was absolutely helpful with when they were working in a field like this. 

Using this specific skill of his, he had been able to find out many things of interest.

It was in the slight tilt of their voice when it came to a deal being struck which usually signalled more than just their delight and compensation or when the undertone of displeasure that came about as the rise of their insecurity that could easily be exploited for the next blackmail.

Yeah, it wasn’t the most moral affiliation in the eyes of the world— using one’s weakness like a plaything for your pleasure. But, who would dare to question it when you were in a business that dealt with far worse things than lies?

Ecstasy, blood, power, all of it thrived in this underground world, away from the eyes of the keen and intuitive citizens.

Ones who didn’t moonlight two jobs to keep afloat by all means or perhaps even for the thrill of it. 

A thrill that Hoseok was quite familiar with. It came in the form of roaring waves of anguish and the need to turn the world upside down. Anger that edged something else, beyond the blind rage of it but something that was already dangerous on its own.

It was in the way his hands shook when holding the sleek dagger in his gloved hand, a tremor that passed not because of his fear— never fear, for he thrived in it— but rather the barely controlled urge to drive the sharpened blade into soft flesh.

He had headed here for that very reason, hadn’t he? Finding the others was just a coincidence.

A lovely coincidence for which he was going to the thank the stars for the rest of his life.

Equally deranged people who lived off this energy exchange and want for more, an itch that could never be scratched, a hunger that could never be suppressed. All of them were magically there on the same line, with white teeth gleaming and bright eyes that were far from innocent.

But they were also more than just that. 

More than the jobs and assignments they undertook. More than just the genius that went behind completing the said task without a peep. More than jus their skills on the playing ground that was designed for rough hands and hardened hearts.

Hoseok recognised that all too well.

After all, he was the one in love with them, a feeling reciprocated wonderfully by them.

And so Hoseok recognised the strangeness in each of their movements. 

He saw it in Jimin’s reluctance to be present when they talked to their boss, Kwon Miyeon— the grieving heir to the entirety of Kwon’s purchase of wealth. Jimin would find one excuse or another to be as far as possible when they made that call for the weekly report up.

He saw it in Seokjin’s wish to take up the restaurant business all too seriously. One that had been used as a front for them, but of course, like everything else the eldest had succeeded in that too. Seokjin would spend hours meticulously planning the menu and bringing the ingredients as part of a job that was never his.

Not when Seokjin was known for remotely hacking into systems and creating the perfect distraction enough to gun down the targets from a range of 500 metres away.

After all, he had spent countless hours perfecting that skill.

He saw it in Jungkook's unusual quietness whenever they were outside as seven. It wasn't as noticeable, of course. But Hoseok had a keen eye after all. It was in the bare flicker of his eyes when his senses were in an overdrive. Jungkook would just zone out more often these days, a quiet that was easily displaced when he was brought into the conversation. 

He saw it in Namjoon's absence from week night dinners, owing it to some preparation for their other job. Hoseok was sure that if he passed further he could easily call out his bluff. The tell-tale signs of it was present in the way Namjoon worked his fingers against the muscles of his neck, in the way his skin glistened with a thin layer of sweat despite the lack of heat or previous physical activity. 

Namjoon was neither a pretty liar nor a successful one at that.

He saw it in Yoongi's restlessness, always moving to do something, spending ungodly hours cooped up somewhere that would ultimately lead to sore back muscles— massaged duly by Jungkook after persuasion. Yoongi never made it a point to mention it but if anyone would look close enough, they could find his tapping toes on an unsteady rhythm. 

Hoseok was no hypocrite by any means. 

And so of course, he saw it in himself. 

He saw it in his own irregular sleep cycle, of the lack of daily schedule maintenance. He saw it in his own presence dimming, usual ways coming up to be useless in the face of adversity. Quietly he could see how he was losing that edge to anger, becoming him in a way that felt too foreign to himself. 

“Have a minute to spare, hyung?”

“Of course, Min!”

Hoseok's reply to that came off a little enthusiastic and a lot affronted at the very thought of Jimin assuming that he didn't have time for the younger, of all people.

If Hoseok could, he would spend his whole eternity with Jimin, just listening to him speak sounds like little tinkering bells of heaven. 

He would spend all his eternities with them, with the five of them. 

“What is it, love?”
Hoseok asked, as they walked to sit on his bed, a comfortable pink bedspread on top.

“Um…so, hypothetically speaking, how does one distance themselves from their feelings?”

“Hypothetically, are these feelings regarding the six of us? Because if that's the case, we'll need to talk.”

“Ah, not exactly. I’m not sure. But, I don’t think so?”
Jimin muttered, biting his lips almost painfully.

Hoseok tutted, moving his hand to gently free the bottom lip from those teeth’s fierce grasp.

“If it is feelings, then maybe confront them and talk it out. Because talking usually has helped unless the few cases of having to bring a threat to the pulse underneath their flimsy skin. But, I’m sure that is not the case.”

“Okay, these aren’t romantic so just. Attached I would suppose. And I don’t even know if it is for a person, because it’s more to do with this life.”

Yeah, they weren’t talking hypothetical anymore.

“Life as in?”

“Ugh, let’s just not. Yeah, I’m sorry I shouldn’t have spoken about this. Ah I’m stupid.”
Jimin rambled, pushing himself away from Hoseok’s warmth as if it burned to even be near the flame.

“No. We are talking because this has been eating you away and I want to know what I can do.”

“Okay just once, let’s not. I would rather think about it, frame it in an understandable way and then we’ll discuss again yeah? I’m not running away from it, despite being the one who brought it up. But, I’m not mentally prepared, I guess. So, just let’s drop this topic.”
Jimin pleaded softly, eyes downturned and Hoseok’s heart breaking into two could have easily been heard from a distance.

“Fine. Just because you asked so nicely and because I trust that you will not hide your problems from me. We’re together and even if we weren’t, you are important to me and I would never want you to be alone, wallowing in your troubles.”

“Promise me you will come and talk to me?”
Hoseok asked, pushing his pinky finger up for Jimin to hook his in.

Jimin laughed all too prettily at that, bringing his pinky up to reciprocate the action. 

“Well, I know what you asked of me, but if that hypothetical question in the beginning still stood then I would say that you just have to let it pass. It will definitely be painful, but such is life and you have to let it course through you.”

Hoseok tried to put it forth and by the way Jimin inched closer to rest his head on Hoseok’s shoulders, he was almost sure that the point had reached across. 

To be fair, when Jimin mentioned life he assumed it had to do more with this quiet lifestyle by the beachside, despite Jungkook’s absolute hatred towards the sand underneath his toenails. He hoped that it was regarding the cafe and how Jimin had been more into making those delicious sweet treats, frolicking with a smile and cheer in his steps.

All that as opposed to cracking codes, marking coordinates, checking the registry for magazine count, climbing fences, and making sure the target could only splutter blood before pathetically falling to their demise. 

Yeah, as much as Jimin was exceptionally good at all of that, there was one part of it that had longed for the quiet life, a little more than everyone else on the team.

So, Hoseok hoped it was regarding that as Jimin was getting further attached to his chill life of living in the moment. He really hoped that was the case. 

(Much later, Hoseok would angrily curse at Jimin for not bringing it up before, perhaps crueler than what he had meant for it to come out as. Maybe then, Hoseok would see what laid beyond those gentle eyes, a yearning beyond what he had come to understand. And maybe then, he would curse himself for breaking at the sight unfolding in front of him.

He would find himself maniacally laughing for not seeing something that had presented right in front of him. A new low for someone who proclaimed to be in tune with others’ feelings. 

And maybe, just maybe he would regret everything he had done, almost plunging himself into a darkness that invited him with welcoming arms.)

For now though, Hoseok quietly placed a hand on Jimin’s neck who yielded all too lovingly as Hoseok tilted him softly so that he could press his lips against the younger’s forehead, then his eyes, his nose and finally his lips. Deepening the kiss, Hoseok could feel all his senses sated as compared to the overdrive they had gone into as they dissected every single one of his loves.

It finally quietened down, the voices and the murmurs of wanting to know it all.

“I love you.”
Hoseok whispered, against Jimin’s soft, pink lips.

“I love you more.”
Jimin replied, smiling with a giggle.

“And I love you both the most.”
Seokjin’s voice came from behind them as they turned to look at the other who was leaning against the door frame with his hands in his pockets, almost devilishly handsome if not for the little teddy bears on his pyjamas.

Oh how in love they were with him.

“Then, c’mere and collect your kisses.”
Hoseok hollered, just as Seokjin followed along with a deep laugh.

When the night settled like a blanket crowding around them like a safety dome, Hoseok let himself creep into the main room where their documents and other unseen details of that hidden life were stored. 

Just checking up, he reassured himself despite knowing all too well why he was there.

As he saw Taehyung's name and photo glare back at him once again— presented as part of their latest background check, Hoseok was reminded of how there was one more reason why people entered this land of depravity and violence, beyond the money and excitement. 

Repaying the unseen debt and continuing to do so to fill a growing empty black hole within them.

It was the same exact reason Taehyung had.

Hoseok didn’t know Taehyung too well, but he would say he knew him better than the person he had met 4 months ago. Or better than the person presented on the papers, one dimensional character. And there was something that was amiss beyond the beautiful brown eyes and the lips that never uttered more than necessary. 

Perhaps, he was just analysing the minor details too much. Maybe not, for that was his duty.

But he was almost sure of what he had gathered of Taehyung whose words were clipped, not used to the freedom of being a complete human. But at the same time, a presence that commanded respect, subtle and evident, like a dying fire that was still nursed with little chips of wood. 

Hoseok saw it all in the hesitant glances, unbridled excitement at the prospect of anything that allowed Taehyung to not be alone, raw bitten lips that tore apart, calloused hands that worked far too well in the kitchen for an inexperienced ‘cook’ as presented, keen eyes that never left their movements as he took the backseat in all their conversations and most of all, longing.

Hoseok was no mind reader, unfortunately. 

And so, the last part never came to meaning. He wasn't sure what a man like Taehyung could long for when he could have the entire world in his palms. For fuck’s sake, he was the killing machine, yielding weapons so smoothly that his opponents never saw him coming, he was the right hand man, the unspoken successor to the Yang lineage. 

What could Kim Taehyung possibly long for?

What could Taehyung not long for?

Especially right now as he fanned his neck with a roll of newspaper.

The fan had stopped working in the middle of the night, a hot humid night, to be precise. And he really wasn’t a fan of the alternative: air conditioners. Mostly because they brought out the worst colds in him, making his nose all stuffy and head hurt as if he was carrying a whole boulder of stone. 

Well, the need to make that choice didn’t quite come up when he realised it wasn’t a fan problem but rather an electricity problem. 

So, he creeped down to the basement where the generator, dusty and unused in all its glory, stayed. He tried to turn it up, fuel it on and perhaps as a last resort, even kick it as some ancient rule of working stubborn appliances.

But alas, none of those worked as he sat there for a second, trying to catch his breath from the exertion.

With a determined frown, he got up to get out of the house, perhaps the terrace or balcony or just anywhere the cold breeze from the ocean could touch him and soothe the sweat that ran along his back in the stickiest, grossest manner possible. 

(Un)fortunately for him, sleep wasn’t on the cards after having woken up as such. 

And that meant he could catch up on some quality time, thinking. 

But a part of him, the restless and frayed part of him, was tired of the relentless working of his head that led to no conclusion. He was stuck here with no message from his past life which was still very much active, since there hadn't been a removal of his activities permanently over his mistake.

No, it was just one Kwon catching up to him because some crook had leaked and linked it to Taehyung. 

If Minho asked him, Taehyung would still stand firm on the execution of his plan since it had been a silent move, not enough to draw attention. He had seamlessly blended into the crowd which made it all too easy for him to work through the poison attack, a tamer version than pain that painted the floors red.

And so yes, he was tired of thinking of his past life.

Some part of him wondered if he had been abandoned for good, after being such a burden for the past months, trying to cover his not-mistake. Maybe they found a replacement, a worthier opponent to work the knots. Maybe a spare who was stronger, both physically and mentally. Maybe a perfect assassin who didn’t make mistakes.

But, he still tried to think so hard about it for he knew his head came with the worst of situations as a way to entertain itself.

So instead, he spent the rest of the time watching the series that Namjoon had recommended earlier. It was basically about  some superhero who falls in love with the supposed villain and they both break apart only to reunite and fight a bigger evil. Well, with a lot more twists and good dialogues.

Not Taehyung’s cup of tea, he learnt that night.

Well, he would never have watched if he knew but being him , who hadn’t been exposed to this end of the world all too well, he hadn’t branched out in ways that would show his likes and dislikes.

He continued watching the show until the morning sun came up. And not so surprisingly, his eyes felt heavy enough to nap right there, comfy in his chair with the big shaded tree covering him from the incoming harsh sun glares in a few hours.

Protected and nurtured for once.

And when he finally had his three hours of sleep— a low curve for most but quite the change up from nothing to at least this— Taehyung stretched out and relaxed, going about the motions of the day. 

For today was marked important on two accounts specifically. 

It was one of the few days Taehyung took a leave from all his tasks every year religiously.

It was his mother's birthday, the one day he hoped to remember her as who she truly was. A kind and loving person who had a special interest in gardening and adored her knitted socks as gifted by his father aka her husband on their second anniversary. He still had those red, pink and white socks in his bag— a gentle reminder of the love that had flourished and bloomed to create his existence.

He didn't want the day to be remembered by all the sadness that surrounded her death, mostly the ones leading to her final days, the ones that had tainted his memories vividly. 

No, that was for another day. 

Today though, he wanted to rejoice the fact that in his small life he has been able to spend his first formative years under her care. Cherish how his mother had loved him fiercely, arms crawling his tiny frame with reverence. Celebrate how he had never let go of that tiny flickering hope that had dangerously come close to dying forever. 

Love that had warmed his heart and protected the fading aches. 

Love that had persisted in the face of adversity — precisely his ruined life of violence and a source that had long ascended this plane of existence. 

And so he did the usual by buying a bag of peaches and a box of chocolate cupcakes, all ready to be devoured while watching their favourite film, 101 Dalmatians. 

It was one of the simple rituals that they had followed together when she was still alive. And Taehyung continued doing so, even with tears streaming down his face for the first few years after her death. Still unstable on his feet and unable to come to terms with it fully, especially on the special days. 

Now though, he was more emotionally regulated by experience and time, both of which acted as the catalysts for change. 

“You are just like that little one.”

Taehyung had laughed when his mother had commented as such, pointing to the little runt of the pack. 

He had found it endearing nonetheless, despite the playful annoyance on display. One of his teenager trademarks of not giving into his mother's satisfaction. 

(He did, indeed, regret that most days. Almost wishing he could turn back time and let her know that he loved her for that exact comparison.)

Whenever he saw that film, his mind would instantly reel back to the younger him who was sheltered and loved like no other kid on the planet. It made him feel special, like he still had a chance to just be him; falling back to that age when he could still be held in his mother's arms. It reminded him of a time when he was young, naive and innocent in a way that made him learn the world all over again. 

Maybe this time, he wouldn't have to wonder how everything was bleak and bloody. Maybe he wouldn't have to rethink his life choices. And just maybe he would be better at being human instead. 

With a spring in his steps, he walked back inside his kitchen to take out his previous day’s purchases as made in anticipation for today. He had already taken off from the restaurant and neither of the two had questioned him nor had Namjoon when he went to collect the custom order of cupcakes he had placed earlier that week.

And so at 2 in the afternoon with a spread of cold vanilla-banana shake, peaches cut and peeled like how his mother did, six cupcakes and a bag of chips he had bought three weeks ago, he sat in front of the television as it played Anita and Roger’s love story with their pups.

With the clock inching to 6 slowly after it was lazily spent with Taehyung staring at the ceiling for most of it after the movie was done, he rolled his neck and got up for the second reason of the day, a theatre release to catch up with all of them.

Yeah, his eyes would find it hell for spending 7+ hours in front of the screen as accompanied with the messed up sleep.

Taehyung didn’t expect to be the first one there at 6:45 with 15 minutes left until the prescribed time on the ticket.

A ticket that he had bought, despite their push to buy it together, for him included. 

But soon enough, each of them came in piling up like rocks on the beach, excited and loud. Buying a few packs of popcorn and coke drinks for all of them, they entered the seemingly empty theatre hall, except for the group of four at the far end below, three couples scattered around, and one family sitting in the middle.

With the advertisements playing to an end, the movie finally started. Taehyung sat at the far end, beside Jimin who made it a point to feed him popcorn every few minutes, not quite caring for Taehyung’s reluctance.

“If you don’t take your share, Seokjin and Jungkook will likely hoard it all.”
Jimin whispered softly, as he reached with another caramel popcorn to Taehyung’s lips.

Taehyung blinked again, slightly pink under this kind of attention. He had always imagined feeding someone to be a sign of trust and softness, subtle but caring in a way that had built on years of loving. 

But as he stared at Jimin, he wondered if loving didn’t necessarily mean what he had initially assumed.

Maybe love was just this, plain and simple.

“Hey, I can hear you!”
Jungkook’s voice from beside Jimin came out making Yoongi hiss as a warning to keep quiet.

Taehyung couldn’t but giggle silently with just his shoulders moving.

The movie was well, good for the first half. A lot of action and scary effects in place which had Seokjin hiding his face in Jungkook’s arm, not fully for the curiosity creeped in at each missed moment. And Yoongi was trying really hard not to flinch at the movements for Hoseok who wasa antsy at most scenes.

The only who fully enjoyed the movie were likely Namjoon and Jimin who both looked unbothered by all the gore and only focussing on the plot line which was left at a cliffhanger just right around the interval.

“Anyone want candies?”
Yoongi asked, as he got up at the same time as the lights flickered on.

“Me!”
Seokjin muttered, getting up as well to join him to buy his favourites.

“Don’t forget the crunky choco and the coffee bites please!”
Jungkook exclaimed just as they walked to the exit. 

“Did you see how he looked? That had got to be my favourite look on him!”
Jimin muttered, as he looked at Hoseok who sat three seats away.

And so started their full-fledged discussion on the theories that involved the way in which each of the characters might work in the unveiling of the mystery. It was fun with Jungkook fully delving into the semantics of how the captured would be saved.

“I’m going to go to the washroom, yeah?”
Taehyung mumbled at Jimin who nodded in acknowledgement before turning back to Namjoon’s explanation of that clue.

It felt like they were completing a treasure hunt of their own.

Taehyung felt his lips curving up into a smile unconsciously for the happiness of being there really brought the best in him. Today had been perfect from the very second of the his waking up to his fond memories that trickled down gently like a balm that soothed every ache in his body to right now.

The six of them had been welcoming in ways he hadn’t experienced earlier, comfort being written in the lines of their palms, to be precise. He wasn’t their closest friend, not like how each of them operated with barely concealed smiles and marks on their cheeks and necks. But he was there and they seemingly enjoyed his presence. 

That was more than enough for now.

And just when things were starting to look good, like the world around him hasn't stopped after his mistake in his last mission, like he wasn't an assassin who had the blood of hundreds, there was a momentary break.

A lapse in the dream he was living.

The reminder of him not being a normal human being, one who could just enjoy the roads with no consequences, one who could just exist without the crushing weight of guilt and emptiness. The reminder that all of this wasn’t real because what he was awaited at the deck of the dangerous life he led six months ago.

And just when he thought he had made a break into the wild, the real world, experiencing all of it in its rawest forms of being a human like he wasn’t a killing machine that had been trained since in adolescent years, came the other kind of break to cut into his daydream.

A daydream that was as real as it could.

‘You need to make a run on the 18th, 3 weeks from now. Be ready at the port of Busan, we have other stuff to pick up before setting up the shop’

Everything was falling apart. He had to return back to don a vest and fitted black turtleneck as he held the handgun up high for its noise to pierce into the silence of nothingness. 

He had expected that he would be happy at the news. 

After all, he had spent most of the first two months as an anxious wreck trying to figure out if he had been dropped like a useless army hound after an injury. But here in his outdated phone, blinked back a message that said he was needed. Back to the building, back into the game, back into the life he had known for the better part of his survival.

So why did it make him utterly sad as if the world heaved along with him?

His knees buckled underneath him as he tried not to slid down and sit on the dirty bathroom floor. But the heaviness in his heart was strange, unlike any other he had faced. It pierced through him as thoughts swirled like a demon waiting for its prey.

Taehyung could feel his own shoulders sag lower, like a defeated soldier who had just come to accept that he was the last one from his force on the battlefield. The last one standing against a row of relentless enemies who looked at him like the gate to a prized possession. The last one in front of…six people.

Why was it that as he closed his eyes in disappointment that their faces came into his view?

Why did their contorted, unsmiling faces make it past his dreams into a vision in response to dread?

What was happening?

Why was his mind playing tricks on him? 

Why was his heart being so unfair to him?

After so many fucking years of being guarded and not letting him slip past the cracks of loneliness, now was the time his heart was choosing to lower the walls for whatever it had planned for them to part of.

So many years of longing for another warm body beside him, to coax the unshed tears in him, to tell him it was okay and now, now was the time it had taken to find that someone? How fucking cruel of his heart? How absolutely ruthless was it to let him slip like this?

Before he could question further, there was a knock on the bathroom door. A soft knock, followed by the concerned voice of one Kim Seokjin, 

“Are you okay in there? It's been over 20 minutes there.”

Taehyung had no answer. No lie to help solve the predicament at hand. There was simply no answer to give for a question that was directed towards him after such a message received by him. Nothing that his mind could come up with.

For his dumb mind was still fixated on the images of them. 

Dumb. Dumb. Dumb.

It was like he was simply blanked out. And that wasn't really what Seokjin was looking for. Especially when the knocks on the door became more by count and intensity. 

Taehyung had to will the slight overthrow of tears away as he fixed his shirt once more and finally opened the door to face the apprehensive frowns of Seokjin and Yoongi, both of them standing still in front of him.

He hoped he looked presentable enough to pass, but seemingly that wasn’t the case at all. And it became more evident with their next question.

“Is something wrong? Why are you crying?”

And Taehyung had absolutely no clue on what to answer.

Because how does one frame the answer to be, ‘I just had a realisation that I may have fallen in love with the first act of kindness that was bestowed upon me by the six of you and now that I have to leave this life behind, I am not sure what to do with this grieving, dumb heart of mine.’

Chapter Text

In the entire duration of his career as someone who held the puppet strings to someone's life— literally and figuratively, there were very few times that his deeds were stuck to his skin with no opportunity to absolve. 

Stuck to his skin in ways deplorable, in ways that couldn't erase the horror of it, in ways that no amount of scrubbing in the shower could peel it off his exterior. 

Stuck like hot hardened glue. 

One such time had led to more favourable outcomes as compared to others. 

It wasn't fancy by any means. 

The scent of dead fish, sweaty portmen and retching salt permeated the air. And with the recent threatening showdown to one of their biggest suppliers after having sniffed down a steady bribe situation, the air was thick with disappointment, satisfaction and doubt.

Taehyung was finally hoping to wind down.

After all, being in control all the time while everything was askew with orders pouring in from above was difficult. As he sat on the deck that bordered along the shore, with his feet dangling below he let himself enjoy the cigarettes that had been packed away in his pocket.

But before he could fumble around for his lost lighter— a cheap replacement for the one he left back at his apartment, there was a lighter with the flame on right in front of the cigarette that had been loosely gripped between his teeth.

Orange and bright, as it lured his eyes to just focus on the fire that had sparked.

Taehyung didn’t hesitate before leaning down to let the cigarette burn against the flame. Just as the spark transferred on to the cigarette, the lighter was shut off with a snap. That was when he turned his head just enough to catch the gaze of his saviour in the form of a lighter.

“You know, you can crash at my place?”
The voice said, gruff but gentle.

“Oh yeah, just like last time hm?”
Taehyung teased, inhaling deep.

“Maybe this time we won’t wait 30 minutes before we jump each other’s bones.”

The other didn’t answer as he just came around to sit beside Taehyung.

“Maybe this time you won’t push me so hard against the wall, wanting a bite of the apple in between my lips. Or perhaps that you won’t run away from me after we’re done, naked and sweaty on your sheets.”

“Tae—”
Daejung muttered, only to be cut off by Taehyung.

“Oh, save it. This is a push and pull. But I think it's finally time to conclude it. We're better off as coworkers.”

Taehyung knew how it ended, each of the times being one where neither could move apart yet they did. They were friends with benefits as everyone liked to say. Honestly though, Taehyung wasn’t sure of that term either.

It felt too broad, too much, too real to be using that. Taehyung hated how that gave rise to more in all the cases he had seen. But not between them. And he was endlessly grateful for the unspoken rule reached. They were just them, trying to find that peak of letting go because they had no one else. 

Well, Taehyung definitely didn't. Not someone who he could trust with all he had. 

But Daejun was one such person. Taehyung knew the other and for some unknown reason of being trapped in this life of crime, that guy just had his back on the field. 

And that translated to their bed as well.

They only moved to each other when the need to get it off their system exceeded all barriers present, like water that warped around each other only in want. The want to feel contact, something real, skin to skin consuming them whole. The want to just be human where pleasure was all that enveloped their minds, a break from the daily. The want to exist in each other's steady breathing for those mere minutes like their heads weren't in an overdrive from the world outside. 

But lately, Taehyung couldn’t help but want to disconnect himself from that too. 

It was taxing— the mental maths, the weighing balance that was waiting to tip off, the entire chase of it. The bubbling feeling underneath his skin that ached not in wasn't anymore but distaste was real. And he couldn't ignore it any longer. 

This had been going for so long and he just couldn’t continue it any longer. Not when there was no acknowledgement from the other. It wasn't that he ever caught into Daejung more than coworkers or fuck buddies. He couldn't, more like didn't want to fall in love like how everyone else expected workplace romances to flourish. 

Neither was their workplace a normal one, nor was Taehyung to find comfort in Daejung, of all people.

“Don’t worry, no one knows that you like taking it up from a guy. I’m not a snitch.”
Taehyung chuckled, smile hanging off his lips/

“I’m not ashamed of it.”

“Well, you sure act like it whenever I meet your eyes during meetings.”

“Plus, using me to get over Soomin is kinda shitty move on your part.”

Daejung’s eyes were wide blown at that.

Taehyung didn't expand on that further. After all, he had seen the longing gazes, the accidental touches and the recent blanked eyes during their time together swept under cloudless nights.

He wasn’t a fool to the obvious displays of someone going through that painful realisation.

Even if he hadn’t experienced it himself.

“I…I still meant it if you want to just crash at my place. It isn't the brightest choice to leave home now. Not when it's easily a 2 hour journey in the middle of the night.”

“I’mma pass you on that. I do love my long night drives. Bonus points for giving me more than enough time to cool down after today.”

“As you wish.”

Taehyung just let out a sigh as he stared at the stars above. Glimmering lights above, barely seen but enough to put the most expensive of diamonds to shame. Slowly puffing out the smoke that curled warmly against his deft fingers, he wondered why the bubbling under his skin that had persisted for so long had now been accompanied by another uncomfortable feeling. 

An itch. 

He didn't have to wonder long before the light bulb went off. It was the same itch that came and went during the days the work was tough. 

There was no blood shed today, no life taken, only threatened. And yet the itch persisted like an annoying bug that never left the room. A bug that had a way out through the graciously opened windows, and yet it stayed like a dumbstruck fool, set on destroying that life purchased at whim.

He hated this life with all his heart but the universe loved playing jokes on him. Especially by making him invaluable to the regime. Counted on by his worth and passion for the game, a chase beyond the adventure-seekers. 

He was ultimately wired to be in this elaborate world of deception, no matter what his heart clashed on.

A heart that hadn’t recovered from his sudden losses, mounting and piling like it was a count on his head for a bounty to hunt on. A heart that couldn’t wander past the imaginary lines drawn, burning fiercely on the shins at the first step taken. A heart that was so tired of pretending to be something it wasn’t entirely, for he knew as much as he tried, the vengeful puppeteer within him was just as real.

He could be all that and also the one that desperately wanted to get the thirst out of his system.

Who said he couldn’t be a multifaceted person?

A deceitful mastermind, bettering his game with each move.

Taehyung was remotely aware that Daejung hasn't yet left. But the words that are uttered next made it impossible to ignore. 

A melancholic whisper into the air shared between them.

“You need to let go.”

“Of you? Oh, don't be so pretentious.”
Taehyung chuckled at the very notion of liking Daejung like that.

“No. Let go of the hurt you carry. You can't keep carrying it for the rest of your life.”

“I'm okay. I dont—”

“Lying to yourself definitely isn't proving to be any revenge.”
Daejung muttered, eyes far away onto the pleased waves crashing.

“You are in a business that works like no other. But it is still a business at the end of the day, a lifestyle perhaps but I wouldn’t recommend limiting yourself to just that. And perhaps, perhaps, the day you actually get around it, you will let go of that brewing cocktail of emotions within you.”

“You don’t even know me like that.”
Taehyung chortled, almost amused,

“You aren’t as elusive and blank slated as you think. Pretty much, visible on your face— your contempt, hesitation, worry and almost everything. You wear your emotions on your sleeves most days. It’s a shame that the sleeve exceeds everyone's reach, hiding in plain sight.”

“Might be just you. No one has told that to me.”

“Could be. I mean, they are pretty scared of you.”

“Yeah, that’s a good thing.”

It was a good thing, especially so when he was rising up the ranks, close to being the right hand man to the main boss. He needed to assert himself, make his authority and reign known to get the work done. 

After all, he was another cog in the big machine. An important cog, it would seem.

“Either way, my point stands.”

“The point being… a metaphorical lecture?”

“No. It being the fact you need to let it go. You need to, it’s eating you up whole and I don’t want you to see a day when you can’t separate the two from within you. I don’t want to see another do it.”

That night, Taehyung had driven back home in silence. The night seemed to pull his along with its noiseless winds. The sharp blades that were tucked in his boots were a painful reminder of the life that Daejung desperately wanted him to detach from, or maybe he meant the other kind of let go— the one that worked him to the ground in hopes of erasing its existence.

The cruel kind, the worried kind, the excruciating kind.

The thing was, he tried. 

He tried to set it down, relax his limbs for the first time in years and give into the light. The light of being alive.

But whenever he did want to give up and let that burden on solid grounds, there was something that stopped him. It was just his conscience he supposed. Punishing him for something he had no control over. Punishing him for being such an emotional wreck. Punishing him for all the wrongs he hadn’t righted.

He wondered how younger him would have coped.

15 year old Taehyung had been stronger and more mentally present than the current version of him. The younger him had worked through it all, being the sole caretaker of his ill mother while also trying to grow up faster than what had been written for him. He had worked through all of his stuff so perfectly that it was a smooth transition through the months leading to the ultimate demise.

But if he were to recall and try to find reasons to give himself more grace, then Taehyung would definitely point to quite a few reasons for this.

29 year old Taehyung had seen the horrors of his job. He had ravaged and killed all on orders. He had threatened and extorted for money that wasn't his. He had worked as the devil's advocate in making all their successes built on sins, possible.

He had run across the bridge of life towards death all too many times for it to be considered healthy, only to be pulled back by valiant efforts from the people around him.

He had done it all while carrying that hurt within him, one that didn’t yet have a word to sound its worth.

And maybe this time it was the right one to let it down and not run to his death. 

“Is it because of the movie? We can definitely leave early if you want.”

Seokjin’s voice pulled him back to reality.

A reality where he stood in front of a closed washroom door, facing two pairs of concerned eyes and a highlighted text message from his past life. A reality where his eyes were wet with tears, seen unlike the other times. A reality where he was missing parts of a movie that he had eagerly looked forward to, all because the world felt heavy on his shoulders.

Especially on his mother’s birthday— what would be her 55th.

“Namjoon-ah will surely understand.”
Yoongi muttered, handing over a cutesy handkerchief for Taehyung to wipe his tears.

“I mean, he'll pout a little. But, it's okay. We can leave, you know.”

Taehyung sniffled, wide eyed at the very fact of their conversation still settling in. he could easily leave, letting them enjoy their movie. That was what he would have suggested, but here were these two being concerned and cancelling on their long-awaited plans all because he was sad over something unrelated.

How was he supposed to answer that or even react to it?

“The movie was a little creepy, so I get it. Especially with the seats Joon-ah has chosen for us.”

Taehyung didn’t answer Seokjin who tried to fill the awkward air between them. He just stood, fiddling with the cloth in between his fingers, eyes mesmerized on the blobs of pink and black. 

“Unless it isn't.”

Yoongi’s words were like revelation as Seokjin whipped his head towards Yoongi at the same time as Taehyung who stood frozen, eyes peering.

The rush of feelings was instant upon seeing them so close to uncovering it. 

His mind wasn’t rational enough to realise they didn’t know who he was or what the message was. But he really couldn’t blame the overworked little organ of his that had to deal with so much. And to be fair, there was also the other angle of Taehyung having to scramble for a reason other than a movie since that was not an option anymore.

None of it mattered as Taehyung felt his eyes black out with a spell of shakiness, his knees still weak from before, unsteady and cracking. He didn’t utter anything as his vision went blurry and unfocussed. Before he could reach for something to grip on and stand whole, there was a sob ripping out of him.

All of that act of being okay, being strong was breaking. Breaking fast and hard like the waves that crashed ten kilometres away from them. White foam rising as the panic of it all refused to settle. 

He was going to lose soon. He wasn’t sure what though, but he was going to lose. 

Yoongi reached first, alarmed and quick on his feet.

Then Seokjin was on Taehyung’s right to pull him down. 

Right there on that dirty floor, all while Taehyung couldn’t help but collapse into himself.

He let the tears fall freely, not caring of how he would be perceived by them— not strangers, not entirely friends, something in between, something more. 

He didn’t care for the fact that this was the first time ever, in his entire life, that he had let himself be so distraught and unwell in front of others. He couldn’t find it in himself to care for their perception of him— the closed off stranger they had adopted into their chaotic orbit.

Taehyung was strong, not a lick of fear in his eyes even when he had held the rope up high during one extreme blackmailing session gone too far. He hadn’t cried during his mother’s funeral, held strong as he did all the remaining duties of arranging the services. He had held his head high, not letting the strong urge to puke sway him as he made the first shot at 17.

The very rare times he had broken down completely was behind the closed doors of his room, eyes staring ahead at his own reflection in the mirror as the world behind him faded. Everything came undone from within him, as he was nothing but a blubbering mess for the next few hours.

But right now, with Seokjin’s arms around his body, a pleasant heaviness in it and Yoongi’s hands on his, gentle rubs on the skin, he was sure that this was worse than any of the other episodes.

None of them had led to a complete unravelling like this. 

None to the extent that his warped mind couldn’t factor in the fact that Seokjin was back hugging and holding him to his chest, as if to shield Taehyung from the world or that Yoongi was looking at him keenly, tapping a rhythm on his knuckles softly to distract him. 

They were here, just being there beside him as they waited with no questions and Taehyung could hardly focus on that. He was letting them touch him so freely like his heart wasn’t breaking at the prospect of this not being a regular thing in the future. 

The two of them were whispering something, but Taehyung couldn’t care to focus on the words. All his brain could come up with was the repeated dark tragedies of his past and the ones that awaited his future.

And his tears stopped. Breathing slowed to nothing.

“Taehyung, what’s wrong?”
Seokjin asked quietly, upon realising Taehyung’s silence in the empty washroom.

Taehyung was blank, as he let himself sink against Seokjin’s chest, a warm cocoon of its own as Yoongi sat closer, eyes looking at him in question, not persuasion.

“I’m not sure. I need to…go.”

“Go where, T’yong-ah?”
Yoongi’s voice was so gentle that it brought another wave of tears from Taehyung.

That caused a noise of alarm from the other two with Yoongi raising himself to dab the younger’s cheeks with his handkerchief, soft noises of comfort escaping his mouth without realising.

“Okay, you don’t have to tell us. Just stay until you feel okay, hm?”
Seokjin muttered, softly massaging Taehyung’s arms even in the awkward position they currently were in.

Taehyung tried breathing in slower, not wanting to prolong this embarrassment fest for longer.

But the sheer unexplainable feeling coursing through him was absolutely euphoric. A sort of redemption to everything he had. Being encased as such with both of their undivided attention as it clashed with his own inner struggle, he couldn’t help but dream of a future. 

Foolish.

Taehyung had let the hurt fester for longer, creating a dark and ugly open gash where his heart was supposed to be. It was dark and wicked, so unlike the feelings that should have sprouted from its previous resident. It was cruel in its endeavours to make him the lifeless man that everyone knew of him. 

“Hyung, why didn’t you guys—”
Jungkook’s voice came to a stand still just as he entered the room.

Seokjin jumped slightly, not quite expecting another to join at that moment. 

“Is everything…okay?”
Jungkook asked, his voice directed to Yoongi rather than Seokjin who sat, protectively holding Taehyung to his chest as means of grounding the other.

Taehyung didn’t have to look up to see what expression the other wore. It was obvious, wasn’t it?

He was pathetic.

The strong and feared Kim Taehyung, whose very name being breathed had the effect of a thousand suns upon everyone in the underground circuit, was here crying pathetically.

And that very realisation shook him out of his stupor. 

He couldn’t afford to be weak, especially not in front of them.

Not in front of them.

“I should go back. I’m sorry for all this. And um, for you missing the movie. Tell hyung I’m sorry for not being there. But, I need to go now.”
Taehyung babbled, his balled up fists coming up to rub the irritated red eyes that had cried all their lifetime’s shares.

“Okay, we’ll take you to your place. Jungkook-ah, bring the car out—”
Yoongi mumbled, quietly moving himself forward to pull Taehyung’s arms down. 

“No. I need to go on my own.”

“But, you are…please, just let us help you.”
Seokjin muttered, voice coloured in desperation.

“No. Please. I’ll go on my own. I’ve already troubled you enough.”

And before Seokjin could protest that it wasn’t so, Yoongi spoke up in his rumbly tone.

“Okay. But can we at least accompany you till the bus stop?”

Taehyung looked conflicted at that, but reluctantly agreed with a heavy breath.

So with cracking knees, he stood refusing Jungkook’s hand that came up to help him up. Taehyung could no longer use them for his help. It wasn’t right. They had already given too much, he had asked too much of them. He had to be the man he was six months ago, mysterious and bold. 

Funny. That perception of him was still funny to him, but he was anything but loyal to the game, following through with whatever he was destined to be.

And as the four of them walked out, despite Taehyung’s persistence of one of them being enough, he couldn’t help but crack a smile at how this image would look to anyone else.

One broken Taehyung in the centre and three men walking beside him, defensively safeguarding him like he was a precious commodity and they were bodyguards making sure of his overall security.

“Message us when you reach home, okay?”
Seokjin asked, not quite there with Taehyung.

It looked like the older desperately wanted to press one hug before Taehyung left, an unknown urge he supposed, but there was an awkwardness to it like Seokjin hadn’t held Taehyung, rocking his body gently just a few minutes back.

The embrace was one Taehyung would remember for years to come, engraved in every inch of his skin that had made contact. The heat still faintly pressing against him like that of fireplaces on cold winter days. A ghost impression on him, despite the multiple cloth barriers between them.

And perhaps, he was just touch starved. He hadn’t taken anyone for either purposes for the past year or even more— he had lost count, days melting into each other. And maybe, he just wanted to feel human like he was still tethered to the ground underneath his feet.

And maybe all of that was false. Maybe it was just Seokjin and his smile that warmed the cockles of his heart. Maybe it was just that.

Nothing more.

“Make sure to use some ice packs for your eyes. It helps with the swelling.”
Yoongi muttered and belatedly Taehyung realised the other’s hand kerchief was still grasped tight between his fingers. 

Their hands brushed, not quite there yet again, but just enough to make their presence known to each other. Just short of holding hands like they had, to comfort, to exist, to be.

“I will.”
Taehyung said, voice watery as if there was another outpour waiting within him.

And maybe there was. 

But that had to wait as the bus came to stand still right in front of him, urging him to get on. 

As Taehyung sat down in the near-empty bus, save for two older men and 3 teenagers, he looked out the window to find the three of them waving to him in small movements. Seokjin’s eyes made the slightest smile while Yoongi’s had that of a worried edge and Jungkook had the same frown Taehyung had seen whenever the youngest was trying too hard.

“Be safe. And…yeah, just take care.”

That was the last thing Taehyung heard. Jungkook’s clear voice still rang in his ears as he reached his house, still rang as he went through the motions of the night before laying down. 

And that night, he didn’t dream of anything. 

That night wasn’t just eventful for Taehyung who laid to bed, numb and exhausted. 

It was even more so to the other six, who finally had the update they had waited for months.

“Got fresh intel three hours ago. Make the arrangements and move in. Do not kill him, I need him alive.”

Kwon Miyeon’s voice from the speaker of Hoseok’s phone rang louder. 

All of them had gathered in the basement room upon getting the call notification. Their moods already sullen after the evening they had, curious but more importantly, worried, had gone for a toss. It was all too visible for Hoseok who held the phone in his palm as he tasted the change in the atmosphere.

Bitter and undeniably conflicted.

“Alive?”
Namjoon asked, voice deepened.

“I need answers, maybe revenge. And maybe if I find him worthy of it perhaps even an offer. Unlikely. I have plans that will be implemented to prolong that journey to the afterlife.”

There was a contorted face among the shadows, likely Jimin who had sought refuge behind Jungkook. He really wasn’t keen on these calls. Apparently these felt more daunting than master planning an ambush attack.

Hoseok couldn’t fault him, especially with how the crude words felt to his ears.

Something had changed, he supposed. 

But there was no future for that. Not when they were this close, just a hair breadth away.

“Make sure to put it through before this weekend. I need him back in Seoul by the 18th, a leverage to propose for the final part of my father’s destiny coming true.”

“Yeah. We’ll do as such and give the updates.”
Hoseok’s voice came out, promptly cutting the call.

And he knew that all of them had sensed the unsteadiness in his voice, so subtle yet so visible to people who had spent the past 5 years together, living and breathing in each other. 

Seokjin hadn’t uttered a word since then. 

Hoseok knew something had happened. Taehyung had left early, citing some issues. None of the three who had stayed with him had opened about it. And when asked by Jimin, Yoongi had just replied that it wasn’t his place to disclose. Which to be honest, didn’t quite help Hoseok’s overworked brain, already scrambling for reasons.

Jungkook, on the other hand, had tried to fill the gap in between by asking about how the movie ended as such. The three of them hadn’t returned to the last hour of the movie. They had simply sat outside, in silence when Namjoon had called them. They had opted to not continue, citing that they weren’t really in the mood but didn’t want to spoil Namjoon’s excitement.

Hoseok wouldn’t lie by saying it didn’t cause a reaction within him, because it did. But he just maintained the right composure for the two who were still conflicted about getting immersed into the movie and running out to see what happened.

They were safe, no one was hurt and that was about it.

(Safety. That wasn’t something Hoseok needed to be concerned about. At least not of the man he was supposed to kill. How fucked up was that? And yet, there was an assurance of being right, a relief that calmed his senses— they were safe. Taehyung was safe.)

Right now though, Hoseok had no idea about how to go. 

The air of change was thick between them. It was choking their senses as the last resort to finally acknowledge that they had indeed changed. 

Or well, it was just Hoseok. 

But he caught the spaced out look in Yoongi’s eyes, a rarity in itself. He wasn’t a decoder of unsaid feelings and hidden thoughts but he could damn well bet that the look had a high chance of being about Taehyung and the said mission.

“We need to make a plan. An effective one.”
Jimin’s voice was clipped, like a bird that ached for freedom beyond its golden cage.

Hoseok turned his gaze to Jimin in hopes to assess, but all he met was numbness on those beautiful features he called his love .

“It would have been easier to take him out rather than whatever rouse Kwon is playing.”
Yoongi muttered, eyes not meeting anyone else’s.

“Either way, we can’t disobey. We move in on Friday. Easy way out for the weekend.”
Namjoon spoke, seemingly more clear-headed than most of them.

“You want me to go tomorrow and act like– like nothing happened? Like nothing is going to happen. For god’s sake, I work with the man. I held him. I held him today and I—”
Seokjin looked so distraught that Hoseok couldn’t stop his own body that moved without conscious effort.

Moved to sit beside the other and hold Seokjin in his embrace, the older’s face tucked in the crook of his neck. And Hoseok could feel the stuttered breaths that the other was taking, each fanning on his own sensitive skin. 

And maybe, Hoseok was wrong. Maybe Seokjin had already admitted the change that was going to uproot their lives.

And maybe that was the reason for the slight panic in the peripherals of his body.

“Look, I was thinking about the transport, that’s all.”

“Well, we do need him unconscious throughout the journey back. And to procure and prepare, I guess, a day is required.”
Yoongi resounded, mentally checking in for their drug storage, perhaps one that eases into a knock out. 

“I guess we can just use tomorrow to just do that, hm?”
Jimin asked, small and feeble.

Hoseok didn’t really want to accept it, but he could already predict the future tensions between them as six given how affected each of them were regarding this matter. It was subtle but pulsating, each one felt up the spine, cradled in the warmth that no one wished to utter into.

Who knew taking this job would have brought so many emotions along with it? High-strung and useless.

Who knew that today, the day that Namjoon had been looking forward to catch a movie on the big screen would end like this? End up here, frayed and distraught?

“We just need to do it. No pedalling back, nothing. Just once and for all. He is just another…job to be completed.”
Jungkook breathed out, restraint visible with the last words uttered.

That was when Seokjin’s phone pinged loudly in the silence of the room.

With a little effort, Seokjin pushed himself to check it, perhaps as a means of getting out of the uncomfortable tension in the room. Hoseok couldn’t blame him, after all, he hadn’t yet spoken anything either.

Tae: I reached home safely. I’m sorry for the entire night and for the likely icky floors, I suppose. Thank you for comforting me. And I’m sorry to Namjoon hyung too, please let him know the same.

Just one request if we could just not bring it up the next time we meet. Thank you once again.

Hoseok hadn’t meant to read it of course. He was a big advocate of having privacy in a relationship, especially one this big. But when Seokjin opened the app right next to him, his body slumped into the concave of Hoseok’s own, he couldn’t help but glance at who it was from.

But he didn’t have to as the next dry sob from Seokjin would have said the same. 

It was loud in the silence of the room. Absolutely heartbreaking in the echoing deep and Hoseok couldn’t do much, only hoping the tighter he hugged Seokjin, the quicker the hurt would escape his body. Jungkook had crawled closer as well, as the other borrowed himself onto Seokjin’s other side, letting his hands help ease the rawness out of Seokjin. 

Hoseok spared a glance to the other end of the room to find Yoongi in a similar position with both Namjoon and Jimin enveloping him completely. And as their eyes met, Hoseok knew that Yoongi was well-aware of it all. 

For the first time in their years of completing missions, they were faltering. 

The night had just begun and on two different ends of the city sat seven people fighting an inner battle that would ultimately lead to tragedy.

Fortunately for Seokjin, Taehyung had asked for the day off.

And the ever enthusiastic Seokjin, who was all so keen on not letting their professional lives take a hit on their personal ones, had taken refuge in his bed for the entire day. 

The same Seokjin who had squashed down any remnants of darkness and grim from the life of crime and violence from infiltrating into the life of love and wonder they held as six. The same Seokjin who was loud in all possible ways to not let the bleakness of it all bleed into their relationship. The same Seokjin who was more than the professional hitman who specialised in cyberwarfare, more than the life of crime they lived.

He hadn’t let anyone in his room. 

Not even Yoongi, who just wanted to be there for emotional support. Not even Jungkook, who tried coaxing him out on the promise of food. Not even Namjoon, who said he was willing to do anything that Seokjin wanted to do.

A once in a lifetime opportunity was being rejected.

Ultimately, Hoseok pulled all of them aside, asking them to just leave Seokjin to his devices. Let him have that time for himself. They were stumped by the request but with the preparations to be done, they really couldn’t bear to waste minutes on futile matters. 

“Not futile. But not efficient either.”
Namjoon had corrected, not wanting to ever fault Seokjin for his bad days.

Hoseok had never seen Seokjin be like this. Heck, he knew even Yoongi, who had stayed the longest with the older, hadn’t. 

Seokjin was always the one who barked orders, making sure there were no loose ends, working out plans that would ultimately put them on track. Seokjin was always the one who made level-headed decisions even when Hoseok panicked at something not working out, namely empty cartridges in one such instance. Seokjin was everything they needed in a team that worked so cohesively as one. 

And for Seokjin to be so distraught meant that there was something else.

Unsaid words had floated in the air and Hoseok was still not one to capture it, all too afraid for it to be interpreted wrong. After all, his bias was strong for he had his own thoughts regarding the matter which would eventually work its way to what he thought Seokjin meant. 

There was a clear feeling set apart among the six of them. Just not clear enough for it to be said aloud, especially this close of this mission coming to an end. Especially Seokjin who had not sought any of them out.

But Hoseok wouldn’t poke him for that, instead he would give him the time and space to come clean. Or maybe not. Maybe it was better off buried and forgotten.

For he knew that Seokjin would ultimately complete the said task with the same vigour he had promised.

For he knew that Seokjin would come out of the room tomorrow, equipped to take Taehyung out just as they had planned. 

A routine work at the end of the day. 

And they were nothing but professionals at this.

For now, they could plan this right, make the necessary back up plans, get their affairs in order. All while waiting for Seokjin who needed to recoup and come back together as the strongest version of himself he could muster for tomorrow.

Just another job to be completed, Hoseok reminded himself.

Taehyung’s day had, fortunately, started better than expected.

Despite the past two days going awry and spent in complete isolation for the past 35 hours, it had been a pleasant start to the morning. The gentle sun rays had woken him up with the light curtains dancing to the tunes of the wind outside.

He had made a perfect breakfast, ironed his clothes, carried a few sweets he had bought earlier and made himself look good for once. Better than most days with the light blue shirt atop and brown flared pants to match, finishing the look off with the most perfect smile he could muster.

He was going to make the best out of the weeks ahead of his disappearance from this quiet life.

“Hey!”
Taehyung greeted as he saw Hoseok typing away on the computer, likely expenses from new order shipments. 

The other just bowed his head in greeting with a dimmed smile.

Strange, wasn’t it?

Taehyung didn’t pay much heed to it. After all, everyone was allowed to have bad days. And so he put on his apron, aired out the windows, placed the cutlery in their respective places, washed his hands and got to kneading the dough for the noodles that were to be prepared for the weekend rush. 

As he mechanically got to it, he noticed Seokjin who entered the room and exited the back door just as quickly without acknowledging him for even a second. Maybe that was for the best. He did indeed ask for Seokjin to not bring it up when they met the next time. Maybe the older was just respecting his wishes.

As time went by, he could feel the ventilator fans not working in the kitchen. The heat was getting to him as sweat beads formed on his forehead. Tousling his hair with the unused hand and pulling at the collar to let air onto his bare chest underneath, he tried to continue with the last of the dough kneading.

He really had to check the generator once he kept this for resting.

And then there was the unmistakable sound of the main door opening with the sound of what Taehyung could only hope as Yoongi’s sandals and Jimin’s chunky boots that he had been accustomed to for the past five months. 

He went on about, doing his work since the restaurant would open in a few minutes.

Or…a few minutes ago.

As he glanced at the clock, they should have opened at least ten minutes ago and that was strange for someone as punctual as Hoseok.

The kitchen door opened yet again, this time revealing the man in question. Except there was a mask on his face and oh, Seokjin was here too.

Taehyung hadn’t realised when the back door had opened, but here the two of them were there. He was confused for a second too long, a frown on his handsome features not quite fitting in as if it were out of place. But then the lightbulb went off in his head, an understanding perhaps or recognition of the situation at hand.

And Taehyung turned to face them completely, a rare smile on his face. 

Then there was a booming laughter, echoing even louder through the corners of the room. 

It was maniac, blaring and clamorous in its wake, Taehyung’s head thrown back in glee. The evil kind of chortle, he hoped. Though, it came out to be a ‘more crazy man in a state of delirium’ kind.

“Oh, how foolish!”

“How very foolish of you!”

The tables had flipped quite spectacularly. 

Not completely, he supposed. But at least enough to throw them off.

Taehyung could clearly see the befuddlement, a sense of their composure slipping off their faces, though it was easily masked with emotionless looks. 

Despite having their faces covered almost fully, he could still see their eyes. Those wonderfully expressive eyes. And as a firm believer of the saying, ‘eyes were the gateways to one’s soul,’ he looked at them, glassy and wonderstruck at how it had creeped on him. 

After all, they had been open books through all the six months he had spent in their company. One flip through the pages and Taehyung had gathered enough intel to sneak in and out without any of them knowing.

(Or at least by a little he hoped, given he was still outnumbered six to one.)

He couldn't say the same to them. They didn’t know him as much as he knew them. 

His life as a skilled assassin wasn’t just for show and giggles, there was weight to it and he had made the best use of it in decoding them. Yang would be proud, not his mother though.

Taehyung cracked his neck twice, looking straight ahead at them. He knew how he looked with his hair falling just above his eyes and the two buttons opened in front— a lethal weapon all by himself.

And well with the blade that was nestled against his belt underneath, he was indeed a weapon.

Or a weapon wielder, at the very least.

He wished this wasn’t the case, of them ending as such, equipped to kill. Especially not Seokjin ahead of him, maybe it was just the soft corner he had developed over the months. But to be fair, he had known this.

He had expected this for a long time. 

He wasn’t sure why he waited. Or why he ignored the obvious signs of trouble. Or why he lurked between them, letting them pull him into their lair. Or why he was drawn to them, like a moth to a flame. Or why he went along with each of their attempts to build something— friendship, he knew and more, he wished. 

He didn’t know the reason behind his own actions. The ones that had led him to this exact moment in time. One that endangered his life.

He had enjoyed the comfort of it all, he reasoned out. Perhaps it was the lack of connection driving him crazy enough to take that risk. A chance at being the normal human he ought to be.

And maybe it was the general dissatisfaction with the life he led to the extent that he had taken the chance at whatever they held as seven one last time before what he knew as his final exit from the world entirely. 

So, yes he had expected it, knew of its existence as a mere idea, an inkling nestled in the back of his head.

And maybe if they had done and disclosed this long ago, it would have saved him a lot of turmoil. 

How very foolish of him!

How very foolish to still fall, knowing it all and yet, he hadn’t been able to stop, like a damn fool! 

But here he was, getting on a stance to make it quick, already putting his distance from them to reach the back door and escape. He didn’t want to hurt them, his weapon was for his own safety for he knew that there were few cases where the blade would slash against their skin. 

“Don’t try. Please.”
Hoseok’s voice came through.

Taehyung took one second to relish that voice hitting his eardrums, one last time before he made the move. One last time, he prayed, 

Within the next second, there was a flurry of movements. 

Hoseok moved forth with what Taehyung could only assume to be a knife, but it was soon stopped by his own dagger clashing softly. It looked almost comical to be fighting with tiny blades as compared to the mighty swords that they had both trained for. And in that attempt came about Taehyung’s shiny metal making contact with the back of Hoseok’s hand.

Red trailed immediately, like a bud sprouting off the bare ground.

Taehyung didn’t waste time there, to see if Hoseok was okay, knowing very well it was nothing in comparison to what the older had seen. He had to ignore the strong pull in his gut, a spontaneous reaction.

Seokjin came forward just as quickly with a slightly bigger cutter, curved inward to his palm using it against Taehyung’s arm. But the younger dodged just as fast, feet moving on their accord, moves that had been ingrained into his subconscious. Hoseok had used his strength to hold Taehyung from behind.

And as his dagger slipped past his hand, Taehyung used his strength to flip Hoseok by bending lower and kicking his shins. There was a loud crashing sound just as Seokjin came around with the carved cutter, only to get punched in the face by Taehyung’s rough knuckles. 

Their last attempt at holding Taehyung down was a success. Hoseok pulled Taehyung down by kicking his feet as the taller steadied himself after throwing that rough punch at Seokjin which had caused a nosebleed by the looks of it. Using his whole body, Hoseok held Taehyung down despite the elbow jabs at his stomach. 

Just long enough for Seokjin to pull out an injection and insert it into the meat of a thrashing Taehyung’s thigh.

Taehyung blinked at the slight pain, eyebrows furrowed. He didn’t expect them to be cruel enough to bestow him with the same treatment as Kwon. But as he felt drowsy, senses slipping past his control dangerously so unlike the effects of throwing up and pain, he knew.

He looked at Seokjin, bloodied nose and open cuts across his face. And his hoarse, wobbly voice finally spoke into the void between them,

“Did you have to?”

Chapter Text

When Seokjin was a little boy— an age that was meant for him to flourish and grow, exploring the world outside with a gleeful smile filled with innocence— he discovered a fact about himself. 

A sad fact, in hindsight. But one that definitely changed his world.

He learnt that he could never grow up to be the person he wanted to be. He learnt that he wasn’t his own person, choices be damned. He learnt that no matter what he did, he could never escape the fate that was already written in the lines of his palm. 

Or more accurately, the lines on the piece of paper that his father kept in the safe.

For his life wasn’t his. 

For his life was owed in exchange for another life, a more precious one.

At the ripe age of ten, he realised that his life was a mere trade, a business, nothing more. And if he had noticed earlier through all his childhood, through all the glances of carelessness that his mother showed and through all the impersonal coddling he received from his father, as if it were a duty, then he would have known.

But he was a child, young and vibrant, unknowing to the world around him.

And so when he reached 16, he was sent away. 

One way ticket to an unspecified location with only his clothes hanging off his shoulders. 

That was where he met Yoongi. 

Another one with a similar fate as his, perhaps a lot more cruel given he had already lived a lifetime in the past 8 months before Seokjin arrived. Yoongi’s eyes had been cold at first glance, assessing if Seokjin was a threat to him, even in the older’s crouched figure and scared face.

But they had stuck through the time together. 

During those first few weeks of everything looming over Seokjin, Yoongi had hesitantly pressed his hand against his own on the nights when Seokjin couldn’t breath with panic filling his senses completely. And in return, Seokjin had cleaned and bandaged the cuts that were littered across Yoongi’s body after one intense training.

Yoongi had been his beacon of light through it all. 

Just present enough to exist as an example that Seokjin could one day, not feel as miserable as at that very moment. Yoongi existed beside him and that was enough to push him forward. It was silly to be so attached to someone he had met for mere weeks, much less considering their place of meeting— a death camp both for survival and taking.

And that was just the kinder way of putting it.

Seokjin had to yield to the pressure, no longer capable of affording sleepless nights where he snuck under the ratty bed provided to cry his eyes out. He had to become someone else, a stronger version, a different version. 

It mostly worked in his favour. 

After all, that was how he had met the five loves of his life. Slowly but surely, he had gained them as his, becoming the object of their affections just as equally for what looked like an eternity. 

That aside, he had multiple years on him, years that built and forged this version of him. 

A version that included all of him— his dislocated elbow that still ached during tennis games with Jungkook, his sprained ankle that still felt off when he stood for longer than an hour, the ugly stitches that covered the once open wound on his thigh, and most importantly, his labyrinth-like mind that had weaved through the past years with caution.

Caution that had existed in each of his missions. One that helped him survive, easily undetected through scanners pinpointed to catch him in the act. One that worked in his favour to get the kill done, never spilling more blood than required. One that had kept his clothes and records clean enough to pass.

Pass as another unsuspecting citizen to everyone’s eyes. 

His works hadn’t been as picture-perfect as Hoseok and Yoongi made it or as fame worthy as Jimin’s, but he had surely left a mark for his name to sustain in this field. He was precise enough to still get away despite the stamp of his flair being printed against their skin as his works laid in cold blood, long drained of their life.

His mind had weaved a perfect escape for him, though. He had learnt pretty quickly that thinking was a better workout than any of the weights that Namjoon and Jungkook lifted in their gym. 

Always running at a speed no one could catch. Jumping from one moment to another. The future and the past in a soup, a melody stuck in his head. A well-oiled machine at that, since it came in handy on days when he needed it most. But, the fact remained that it was always a bustling and loud place, except for the very scarce moments when reprieve was granted. 

Seokjin’s mind was his biggest opponent and he couldn’t fault it.

An idle mind was the devil’s workshop.

The saying goes as such and perhaps having a busy one had helped him.

But would it really count if these hands of his had been anything but worthy of the heaven above? Would it really matter when he partook in all activities that weren't just morally wrong, but also legally and ethically? Would it really exist as such if he was already a devout worker in the devil’s workshop?

Seokjin tried not to dwell a lot on that. It always led him to dark places that he didn’t wish to recount. Dark places where gentle hands and gentler voices were his only way out of the fog.

Currently though, Seokjin wasn’t in a dark place. At least not like the one he had been familiarized with.

This one was a sort of in-between, the kind you have in dreams. One where you aren’t sure if it is real or not, as if the world was slipping from his hands but in a way that makes his heart race. It just caused the quiet shatters to echo loudly in the chambers, protected from all. And he had nothing else to do except watch it all break apart, like a spectator to a performance art.

As he took multiple breaths in quick succession, he realised his mind had been far too quiet.

Perhaps even flown away to another dimension, only to be pulled back by Yoongi’s crooning voice beside him, hitting his ears right.

Yoongi. Right, Yoongi.

And yes, the cold hard floor beneath him that made his knees ache.

He blinked slowly to let his eyes focus on the scene before him. 

A visibly bleeding Hoseok whose eyes were furrowed and concentrated towards Seokjin, clearly concerned if he were to go by his instincts. Hoseok, who was holding a limp, unconscious figure down with both his arms wrapped around him. 

The figure was Taehyung.

Taehyung, who even in the last moments of his consciousness had used his strength to hold Seokjin’s left wrist with his rough and calloused hand. Taehyung, who was still under him, torso locked by Seokjin’s thighs. Taehyung, who had never looked as peaceful and irreparably lovely as this moment with his eyes closed.

Taehyung whose last words reverberated in his chest— betrayal and acknowledgement, raw pain and unfiltered rage, desperation and agony, all with the precise infliction learnt over years marred neatly in the purity of his feelings.

And Seokjin’s heart was begging and pleading to give an answer, to say anything that would stop his own hurt that bloomed like a pretty rose in a garden full of thorns. 

But alas, Taehyung’s eyes were closed and his ears lost to the senses for the next 12 hours easily.

“Seokjin hyung. Can you hear me?”
Yoongi’s voice hit him again, sharp despite it having the softest layered tone.

He swiftly turned his head to face the other, eyes searching for the familiarity he sought shelter in. A home he had made in the hollow of Yoongi’s bones on nights when the world felt all too heavy as the guilt drove the blade further in.

“Y-yeah.”

Seokjin responded just as he felt Yoongi’s warm hand rested in between his shoulder blades, a reminder of them, of him, and more importantly, of time that hadn’t stopped for either.

“You good to go, hyung?”
Hoseok asked, arms still wound around Taehyung’s back.

Seokjin just nodded, eyes closed and away from Hoseok. He couldn’t bear to see it now. He wasn’t sure what the reason was but the pain in his heart gnawed like someone had ripped it into pieces, slowly like it was some beef jerky— ruthless and harsh with one motive to eat and sustain. 

“Yoongi, just–”

“Got it, don’t worry.”

Seokjin didn’t quite understand what it was that they were talking about, head still preoccupied in making sure that he didn’t have a breakdown now. 

Not quite the most convenient of times, was it?

The door swung again and it was likely Jimin judging by the clicking of his heeled boots. But Seokjin could barely catch a glimpse of him, as Yoongi pulled him up, hands under Seokjin’s armpits. And the shorter made it look so easy, as if the years of living with Seokjin had paid off for this exact moment. Practice and raw strength were the key points, after all. 

For someone his size, it still felt jarring to be manhandled like this, but the five of his lovers had taught him better, always using the opportunity to showcase their muscles by using him as the guinea pig (lovingly).

“He doesn’t have his phone on him.”

Jimin’s whisper carried through to Seokjin, who was currently being guided out by Yoongi. Hand in hand, eyes focussed on the floor ahead as another arm came to wrap Seokjin away from the world. 

He assumed that it had to do with the silent conversation Yoongi and Hoseok had a few minutes ago. Perhaps even had to do with the way he froze up, completely out of it.

“So, we might have to drop by his place. Perhaps even clean it out as a precautionary measure.”

At that Seokjin whipped his head to Hoseok. 

Wasn’t the existing hurt not enough? Why would they have to go to Taehyung’s place, picking up pieces of the life he led? Why would they reopen the scabbing wound, causing the budding ache to bloom again as it wilted all the other flowers in its wake?

Seokjin wasn’t sure of these confusing feelings in his heart or the conflicting thoughts in his head. It was as if something was amiss. And it was. Something had changed and he was afraid to acknowledge it, fearing that a rip like this would cause a rift none of them could fix.

He had always prided in getting it right, all of it meticulously worked out. But here he was being treated like he was delicate, someone who hadn’t seen blood, an unsuspecting civilian caught in the middle of a crossfire. He wasn’t usually so affected by a job, but Taehyung had become more than a job.

Taehyung had become more. 

He had become more in ways that Seokjin could never imagine. The way he had seamlessly integrated into their lives, quiet presence slowly edging to his lovely composure. The way in which he had stayed, respectful of their history as six and yet, forged himself in their space. Taehyung had become a part of them, as six. No, as seven.

The realisation wasn’t complete yet, but the trickle of it had Seokjin faltering within. 

Reeling in like a spearhead had been struck through his stomach, all of the putrid insides make a show. Red and vibrant in his hands, all of it so vivid that he stared at his own hands, wondering if he had hallucinated it all.

Maybe Hoseok was right to suggest that they could take it on within the first month. Maybe then, it wouldn’t cause all of this whirlwind within him.

Maybe then it would not be as complicated.”

“I’ll tell Jungkook to pull the car around. Hyung, both of you go with Jimin in the other one and standard cleaning. We gotta deposit him elsewhere for now. Namjoon will be here soon.”
Hoseok muttered but his eyes were fixed on Yoongi.

And Seokjin felt himself slipping.

No, they couldn’t possibly expect him to be the one to clean all of it out. That was not fair, he couldn’t.

“Hoba, hyung may not…”

“Yoongi hyung, I would like to have Seokjinnie hyung there. He’s more efficient in picking up hidden weapons.”

Yoongi nodded after a moment’s thinking and somehow Seokjin felt like they were talking of him, but in a way that isolated him. Like he wasn’t visible to their eye, talking around him like he wasn’t in the room.

Maybe that was a given with how he still wasn’t in the best shape. 

And that was visibly frustrating him, if the furrow between his eyebrows were anything to go by.

What the absolute fuck was wrong with him? Why was he trembling and tumbling over such a simple job? Why did it feel so wrong to go through with this? Why were his ears ringing at the prospect of what would happen to Taehyung after their work was done?

For some reason, this was worse than plunging the knife straight into Taehyung’s chest. 

At least then, Seokjin could have made sure that the other was comfortable and content before going through it. Unlike now, where they were basically handing his defenseless body to the vultures.

Or perhaps not, maybe then Seokjin would vow to never pick a knife again.

What the fuck was that thought?

What was going on?

“Hyung, hyung…Seokjin. I need you to calm down please."

One second, he was standing with Yoongi beside him, hand in hand and the next he was crouched half way in Jimin’s lap. He had just blinked, absolutely sure that not enough time for all of this to occur.

“Listen to my heart beat and try to breathe in and out, just like that.”

That was Jimin’s voice, right after Yoongi’s tapering one. 

And Seokjin did just that. He followed through, letting his overdriven senses be reeled back in. His mind was yet again, suspiciously quiet. Not that he could or even wanted to care for it over the warmth of Yoongi’s big palm on his back, almost grounding him to this reality.

The final touch was how Jimin’s arms snaked through his arms to lock his waist and pull Seokjin impossibly close to his own body.

When the rapidly fluttering mix of emotions settled down, Seokjin let himself realise that he was now on the floor of the restaurant, not quite the kitchen since they had made past the threshold. And by the lack of sound, he was almost sure that there was no one else beside the three of them.

“You good?”
Jimin asked, one hand leaving the original spot against Seokjin’s waist to cup his face tenderly.

Seokjin promised to himself that he wouldn’t whine, despite the build up for the same. He had already embarrassed himself enough today and it wasn’t even noon yet. 

“Hyung, answer please.”

“Yeah, I’m okay.”

He shivered slightly as the sheen of sweat all across his body cooled down at the gust of wind from the backdoor of the kitchen. Jimin’s hold just tightened as Yoongi moved his hand faster hoping to create enough warmth for the shivers to dull down.

“Seriously though, you haven’t been this shaken up. Like ever. What is going on?”
Yoongi’s voice, low and dear, pierced through the air.

“No. I’m good. Just tired, bad sleep, nerves and missed breakfast.”
Seokjin dismissed just as quickly, pulling a gasp from Jimin and a further question from Yoongi.

“You haven’t eaten breakfast? The last meal we had was lunch yesterday.”

“Yeah, well my stomach was being weird so I didn’t wanna.”

“Ok. I’ll just grab some snacks for now. We’ll eat lunch before leaving anyway, so it should be good.”
Yoongi suggested, letting up the comfort that Seokjin was quietly relishing

Planning had been his forte after all.

Seokjin would not dare to explain any of it right now. Yes, he knew communication was key and with an unconventional relationship not in terms of the count involved but because of their personal and professional lives getting melded into one. 

A dangerous combination. 

He wasn't sure of any of it himself. So to burden them with it, especially when such an important mission underway for the past six months was finally leading to fruition. He was not going gto do any of it, he would rather tamper it down underneath the talks of his early childhood— a secret that the others only knew in passing given how Seokjin flinched away from that conversation.

And the five of them were anything but pushy, so time and pace was in Seokjin’s hands.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed, hyung. But, right now, this takes priority. Tell me if you feel poorly again.”

Seokjin just nodded at that.

They were going to have a long week ahead, even multiple of them if going by how Miyeon was deadset on her plan unrolling.

“Take the upper deck, hyung and I will sweep over here once and join you.”
Yoongi muttered to Jimin, who nodded as his eyes lingered on Seokjin for a second before taking the stairs. 

Seokjin looked better. Infinitely better than 30 minutes ago. Yoongi hoped that this state of his would stay until this mission was completed. 

He wasn’t blind not to notice the cracks in the older, especially with how golden they were against his perfect composure. He was keen enough to notice that Seokjin was faltering like never before and that was a nasty sign, one that none of them were equipped for. 

Sure they all had their moments, some even more than what was considered normal for hitmen, he supposed. But that was never Seokjin, never him. So, of course, this was new and scary to navigate. They had no manual to go by when the most emotionally regulated person out of all of them was having not one, but two breakdowns in a single hour.

Yoongi might not know a lot, but that… that was serious. But he also knew something beyond all this and that was by poking Seokjin for an answer would only make it worse, making him retreat into a shell none of them would have access to. 

That, he couldn’t afford to.

So, he kept quiet, observing Seokjin who seemed more in element than before.

Seokjin’s eyes were trained on the obvious TV shelf and as Yoongi walked over to find what had captured the other’s attention, it was easily identifiable. The screws were hastily fitted, not the work of a skilled workmanship, or perhaps one who was running late.

Yoongi took to cracking it open and just as he expected, there was a revolver and spare cartridges. Nothing too spectacular, just an old piece with a carving by the side of his name.

Must have been special to him.

Yoongi put it in the bag they had bought for this very person. 

And as he moved along to the kitchen, he glanced back to check on Seokjin who was out at the balcony, checking for the pots. He found a few cakes in the fridge which was strange cause he really hadn’t expected Taheyung to have a sweet tooth to this extent. It wounded him to throw them out, but it had to be done.

Not so surprisingly, he found a plain black bag in one of the lower cupboards. He pulled it out, noticing how one of its edges had a simple embroidery of a classic teddy bear. 

‘Cute’ he thought. Strange. 

Opening it was quite the experience, he would say. Yoongi dumped all its contents on the floor gently. There were quite a few harmless trinkets,— metal and ceramic clinking against each other, nothing too specific alas— an old pair of socks fitting for a Valentine’s day theme, washed and dried peach pits, a tiny cat keychain, a wallet full of cash , and a singular book.

Curious, Yoongi flipped through the pages to settle on one of them which was slightly sticking out given that the same bookmark that Yoongi had given him during their first meeting was nestled in right there.

There were journal entries he realised, some in hand writing that was vaguely recognised as Taehyung’s and there were also a few letters stuck to it. Judging by the dates in the corner, it would seem this was over a decade’s worth of writing. 

The page he had chosen was that of a letter alongside a journal entry two years ago.

‘I know you are trying to keep my impending death from me. I saw the look in your eyes after our hospital visit yesterday, also that fake smile, but I’m letting you keep it as such. Maybe that way, you’ll feel better, more in control against time.

A mother’s senses are stronger than that, I fear.

I’m sorry I’m leaving. I had promised to keep you safe when your father died. I feel like I’m failing, but alas this mortal body isn’t capable of much. And so with this letter, I hope to give you some comfort. A fleeting concept in the large picture, especially for my little boy who grew up overnight.

Come visit my grave when you are scared or tired. And when you can’t, just remember me and I’ll be there, hugging you tight and keeping you safe from the entire world. I will have all the ghost powers to come and make your day better. 

When you miss me, open a window and let the breeze hit your face gently. Look out to the sky and find the pair stars we love and know that I’m in all of them, wishing for a life where you are loved and cared. Where you are happy and content, unlike now. 

There is only so much I can do for now, but when you find this with the ring I love, just for you, remember that your eomma loves with all her heart and soul.’

Yoongi could feel the tears lining, making it all blurry. He wasn’t expecting this when he opened it, he was hoping for strategies or plans in regards to getting a peek into Taehyung’s life as an assassin, not this.

He couldn’t read all too much after that, only letting his hand slip to the latest entry which was surprisingly, of them?

Yoongi skimmed through most parts, recognising that Taehyung was just recounting his day with them. Jungkook had put on his best puppy eyes, begging for a game nigh, which Yoongi still doubted was just done for him to boast about his skills. 

And as he read over Taehyung’s words, in a handwriting that seemed to etch into his mind, he realised how they were through his eyes, one with no definitive name but more than words could describe. The younger had retold all the pleased feelings that had coursed through him, easing him better than any massage he had taken despite all the loud yells and yelps.

Taehyung had accredited them subtly in all the ways he had mentioned their unnoticebale mannerisms. It was weirdly comforting to Yoongi though, he was indeed aware of how one’s privacy should not be invaded in this manner. The younger had thoroughly put through everything that had made his body ache with joy unlike ever in his life. 

And that broke something in Yoongi who let the tears fall down, one by one against his own sleeve. 

He hadn’t expected that. He hadn’t predicted this outcome in his grand scheme of perfectly planned routines. He was at a loss of words and he knew why. He could feel the rapid fluttering in his heart, one out of fear and suffocation of his own feelings. Loud and gushing against his ears.

This was not good. 

Before he could confront his own thoughts, Jimin came down and around to the kitchen.

“Hyung, you found something?”

“Ah, just stuff. Useless mostly, but guess we can keep it.”
Yoongi muttered, back still facing Jimin as he refused to answer any questions Park Jimin had over his irritated eyes.

As the words were out of his mouth, he realised the very fact that he didn’t want to part with these sentimental pieces of Taehyung’s life which was now covered by a lie. And that was not a protocol for a kill job, especially one that included such a man. 

Why was Yoongi desperate and adamant to cling onto those bits of the other’s normal life? As a means of humanizing him, he supposed or perhaps it was his way of not letting go. Just not yet.

“Okayy?”

Yoongi didn’t have to turn around to see that skeptical trademark face of Jimin, he could already imagine it vividly.

“Well, I just came to say that Seokjin hyung is done upstairs. He found a few weapons, the usual. I just wanted the spare bags then in another 10, I think we’ll be ready to leave.”

“Yeah, here’s some.”
Yoongi said, giving the black polythene bags they kept for this purpose alone. 

Soon with all the job done down there— including the tied up personal belongings of Taehyung, he followed Jimin upstairs to find Seokjin crouched on the floor, trying to get the wooden floor board out. Yoongi took out the tiny plier he carried at all times to help loosen the other end stuck with an unruly nail.

As it was freed upon and taken apart, Seokjin reached down to take out the rifle and the copy of little prince. 

Seokjin had never been wrong in his strength of sniffing out loose ends and possible hideouts. 

And this was another such success.

Except, Yoongi could see the frown on Jimin’s face and the confusion on Seokjin’s deepen further as Seokjin flicked the pages for a tiny patterned leaf to fall out of the book. Pressed and neatly marked, it had stayed like a bookmark for a long time, judging by its colour. 

“We really need a move on it. Namjoon had said to be done by 1, so let’s pack it up here?”
Yoongi initiated, getting responding nods from both of them.

He hoped this was enough distraction for both of them, away from the unfolding curiosity right in front of them. 

One that had taken its roots in quite the questionable mix of items. 

To his credit, it worked all too perfectly in his favour. 

“I'll put these in and then we're done. Let's talk on the ride back.”
Seokjin's voice had been firm enough to make his point clear. 

And within the next ten minutes, they put everything in place, dumping their 4 polythene bags into the trunk. Jimin took the wheel to cover the small distance to their residence that had housed them for the past 3 years. 

The six of them had been given various undercover jobs during the time, often travelling overseas when it called for it. But they had ultimately put their roots here in anticipation of Yang in his summer home which also acted as a great cover place. What followed was even better, since they got his right hand man right where they wanted him— a great vantage point for them.

It had been wondrous in all the best ways, a slow paced reprieve in the middle of their hectic professional lives was an absolute game changer. 

But it was time to move on from here. Their job was finally coming to an end and if Kwon Miyeon’s plans were a go then they would likely get more than just a 10-day vacation.

A real break.

“Took you guys long enough! We’ve already moved everything in. You guys can freshen up and then we can hit the road.”
Jungkook’s words greeted them as they got down from the car.

Yoongi declined that offer and took to checking the car instead, hoping for it to remain in condition for the entirety of their long journey back to Incheon. Seokjin and Jimin went in followed by Jungkook who seemed restless, well, more restless than ever.

“Hyung, we didn’t account for Taehyung’s car.”
Namjoon’s voice came through which had Yoongi humming in response.

“We checked that. It’s in the basement. I didn’t know that house even had a basement but the garage is spacious enough and well concealed enough for now. We’ll send someone later when the job is over.”
Yoongi explained, opening the trunk to remove the bags and check for the state of their spare wheel.

“I checked ours already. So who’s joining which car?”
Hoseok muttered, as he walked in with Jimin on his trail.

“I can monitor Taehyung better than anyone here, no offense. So, I’m in Hoseok’s car.”
Namjoon said and none of them really argued.

After all, he was the only one who had experience in both — keeping a man alive or burying him dead.

“Well, I think Seokjin hyung would do better with Yoongi hyung.”

“And you know how it is on long rides. Jungkookie rides with you.”
Hoseok added to Jimin’s statement, as he pointed at Yoongi.

“That leaves me with the two of you.”
Jimin concluded, lips stretched in a small smile.

Jungkook may not have had the years of experience everyone else had. 

Hell, he might have half of what they had.

Especially given, they were older by at least 2 years minimum, and also add to the fact that he had only joined in when he was 21. Jungkook was basically a youngling in this long run game that had been forged for greater times. 

Never mind, his insanely fast learning capability and sharp reflexes that had guaranteed a place in this all star team. He still was inexperienced by large, at least upon comparison. 

And yet, if he knew one thing, that was to never get attached to the target. 

He was almost sure that was their first teaching, whispered among the crowds.

A target was ultimately a job to be completed, a reward to be attained, and another on the books. The target was never supposed to be humanized in their eyes— reality of their actions never to be confronted. They were never supposed to laugh together like long lost friends , to hold hands and joke around like they were really friends .

Right now, as the three of them sat in this palpable silence that surely suffocated his senses, Jungkook was sure that they had indeed not followed through with the unspoken rule of being in such an environment. 

They had broken that barrier of this being a professional job as the strings that connected them to Taehyung only grew stronger with each passing second. 

“Hyung, can we turn on the radio?”

Jungkook was almost sure that none of them heard him, given the pin drop silence continued for longer than what was anticipated as the acceptable amount of time for a response. 

But then there was a small movement from Seokjin and soon after, soft beats filled the air. 

Jungkook didn't really care for music right now. He just needed a way to soften up the tension that they were breathing into. And if it came in the form of a radio station, then he'll happily take his chances with it. 

“Did Hobi hyung mention when we'll be stopping for lunch?”

Jungkook asked again, trying to get one of them to talk.

“If you're hungry, there's some crackers in the back.”

Okay. 

That wasn't what Jungkook was expecting. Firstly, Yoongi hadn't given a direct answer to his question. Secondly, he wasn't going to eat those stale, tasteless crackers. He would rather starve.

The weird build up of feelings within him was resulting in frustration, which he knew was wrong. And he also knew that he couldn't just yell and ramble away like usual. Today was not the day for that. 

There was a delicate balance to bed maintained here, especially with these two. 

And so, his only outlet to get out the restlessness was the soft scratching of the jeans material on him, a rhythm to get out of his head. It wasn't exactly harmful, just thrumming consistently. But of course, it was noticeable enough in this thick quiet that had blanketed them. 

They hadn't spoken anything to deter him from it, which only made the speed of it hazily faster. 

But, Jungkook was observant enough to see his Yoongi clutched the string wheel tighter, enough for his pale knuckles to go even whiter. He saw the way little frown lines had appeared on Seokjin's nose, a display of distaste. He saw it in all the quiet ways, like always. An ingrained part of him that had never died down, which eventually became more useful to him as praying to his profession. 

He also knew that they would never lose their temper. They would never point him out on their annoyance, always maintaining the needed composure. Especially these two given how they had stayed level headed even in the worst of situations.

Even when Namjoon ran like a headless chicken on one such stressful mission.

“Yoongi hyung.”

“What is it?”

Gritted teeth. But not at him, at the turmoil brewing within. 

“Just say it.”
Jungkook knew he was pushing it.

But he was never good at handling uncomfortable silences, especially ones with such thick tension and heavy feelings that physically choked the air from within him. For some unknown reason, it always felt like he was the reason for the awkwardness that lingered upon a conflict or its precursor to be precise.

He hated people giving him the silent treatment. He would rather have them shout at him, instead of whatever was going on right now in the car.

“What are you even talking about?”

“You're being weird. Both of you are. That's all.”

“Well, I'm not sure what else you want us to say or do, especially when we're traveling to complete a job with an unconscious infamous assassin in one of our cars.”

“No. That's not it. We've done worse. We've done more. But none of those were like this. What is going on? Why is this—”

“That's enough.”
Seokjin cut Jungkook's heated line of questioning.

And that unfortunately, had the opposite effect. 

Jungkook knew if it was any other day, this would have just been buried underneath. Jungkook would have respected their wish and let the silence consume the space between them, even when everything in him would have urged him to get out of such a situation.

But not today. It was different and he was entitled to this answer. 

Not just as a coworker but also as their partner, their boyfriend, theirs .

“No. This is weird and different from every other time. I have to know why. I need to know. I don't know what's going on, but you're both being secretive and overall off. There's something wrong and you aren't telling the reason. Am I not an equal in this team?”

“Is that it, hyung?”
Jungkook knew he struck a nerve when he made eye contact with Yoongi through the mirror.

“No. That’s not it. We never thought of you as less. We’re just muddled in this and yeah, we’ll be back to normal when the job is done.”

“Hyung, all three of us here know that is not the truth. It’s so obvious. Something happened either in the restaurant or at that beach house. You didn’t even try to fight me for the last starburst candies.”
Jungkook replied and he could see Seokjin blink slowly.

“And it feels almost like you're in…”

“Continue it, Jungkook.”

“Grief.”

His own voice felt like a distant whisper in the dark. It felt strange on his tongue. 

That word hadn’t come into their daily vocabulary for so long. A surprise in itself, given how much they dealt with death on a daily basis. And yet, the word was heavy on his tongue, something that settled heavier than the lead in his bones. 

Silence stretched for longer. And then there was that one moment of acknowledgement from Jungkook’s side. Understanding of it being spelled right, all of it.

His word was the truth— a blind arrow shot in the dark only for it to pierce through the bullseye, straight and dead on.

“Can we switch during the night, Jimin-ah?”
Hoseok muttered, just as a yawn escaped his mouth. 

They hadn’t quite stopped for lunch, after a little change in plans with respect to getting across the toll before the weekend rush trickled in. For now, the agenda was that they continue till 5 and get an early supper and then hopefully cover the last leg by the next 12 hours. 

“Sure, hyung. Just tell me when.”
Jimin said, yawning with his mouth wide open and eyes teary in longing for sleep.

“We can switch places. It’s more comfy to sleep in the back.”
Namjoon suggested and Jimin took up on that offer, soon changing seats with a little maneuvering. 

Hoseok kept his eyes on the road, trying not to sleep while still behind the wheel. Last night wasn’t the greatest rest day on his record. Possibly working to combat on the worst though.

But it wasn’t really a new issue per se. Most nights before missions had been spent sleepless, staring at the open sky or his own palm that seemed all too interesting from the prospect of resting his bones. It was a recurring problem, one that had no solution except not having any more jobs to be taken up. Of course, that wasn’t possible.

And so, yesterday night had been spent overthinking every bit of the last six months they had spent. Possibly for clues, Hoseok wanted to console him. But, how could he fool his own being that had experienced a dry run of each of those thoughts? 

Before he could get back into that mode of wondering where they had slipped, despite the recovery made now, Namjoon spoke softly,

“Guess, he was too sleepy.”

Hoseok didn’t even have to look back through the mirror when the tiny snores filled the air in between them. Jimin had always been a noisy sleeper, but not like Jungkook or Namjoon but rather like a whimsical fairy.

“Hm. We won’t get a lot of time to sleep until next week. We’ll just have to catch up when we can.”

“Yeah and that applies to you too.”
Namjoon added and when Hoseok made a questioning noise in response, there was an eyebrow raise.

“Oh c’mon, don’t be so naive. I know you didn’t sleep last night. It’s obvious, perhaps the perks of living together for almost a decade.”
Namjoon chuckled, eyes lingering on Hoseok.

“Fine, You caught me. But I can’t exactly cure it. Taking sleeping meds—”

“I know. I’m not faulting you. Just an observation.”

“These jobs keep me awake at night and alive throughout. One gain for another loss.”

“And that actually brings me to your least favourite topic.”
Namjoon said, a coy smile gracing his face.

“That is…?”

“Talking about yourself.”

“Hey, I’m not that bad.”
Hoseok could hear how his own words sounded to his ears.

Unconvinced. False. Lie. 

“Yeah well, I could start with any of the others. Jungkook, Jimin, Yoongi, even Taehyung and I know that you would spring up to a conversation. But not yourself. And right now, I need to know what you think.”

“About what?”

And once again, Hoseok could hear the act of being dumb being put forth in the least convincing manner possible. He was bad at acting, sue him.

“C’mon Hoba. It’s just us two.”

“Joon, the mission is going to be done. We’ll be done soon. There's nothing that is changing that. None of what any of us say or feel is reversing the steps we have taken to completing this job.”

“All of what you just said…it just points to the fact that there is something. Something we all—”
Namjoon said, eyes a little too hopeful only to be cut off by Hoseok.

“Don’t continue that sentence, Namjoon-ah. I don’t think I’m strong enough for that. Not now. Not ever. It’s not an option of yet .”

“So, in another timeline, there was an option. Only if we spoke to each other.”

“No. We didn’t. It didn’t matter when this has always been a job. It shouldn’t have been more, but we crossed that boundary together. We befriended our target and though that is the likely course of action, we didn’t factor the circumstances in which we found him. He was mentally so weak. We lent more than what we had planned.”

“That means even if we had, his head was always on the line.”
Hoseok finished his statement with a sigh.

As the second slipped past, there was an uncomfortable realisation. A second one, Hoseok supposed,

Just as the words were voiced out, his heart felt so much lighter. An unknowing weight that had laid on him throughout it all. He had just put it all out, everything he had tried to formulate within him for the past week, just stumbling past his lips as one of the loves of his life patiently heard him. It felt like he could breathe easily once again. 

And maybe that was the reason for the second realisation.

Maybe the thoughts he had about this job, no, the job had a name—Taehyung, ran deeper than that.

He was past the ‘killer assassin to awkward human to fumbling man with misplaced energy to friendless big-eyed learner to quiet acquaintance’ and every other phase in between the stages of this pipeline.

He was now onto the stage where pity had melded into longing.

Hoseok was beyond fucked.

Supper was a quiet affair. 

A small highway shop with a good selection of noodles and marinated chicken, as advertised as the words on the colourful banners. 

Jimin had woken up, bleary-eyed and soft edges, sleep still clinging to his cheeks. And despite all his lack of awareness after such a deep state of slumber, he could easily spot how all of them had a sense of unease. 

Suffocating.

Yes, that was the only word to describe this atmosphere between them as they each nibbled on their dishes.

Sure, the six of them knew the quiet that accompanied dinners when things were hectic or when they were drained. But it was also an uncommon affair and beyond that, it still had the distinct weightlessness to it, unlike right now.

Drowning. 

Yoongi was trying to be as far away from Jungkook as possible, meanwhile the latter was cautious to not make eye contact with any of them. Jungkook’s eyes were on the menu for a second and as he made the decision, he hardly said anything, just kept his eyes on the table in front of them.

Hoseok had the same tired look, exaggerated by a thousand times. Jimin knew that was likely because of the insomniac night the older had spent just yesterday. But something was amiss, he still needed time to point it out. Maybe when they were alone and quiet with blankets over their heads and galaxies on their room’s ceiling.

Namjoon was quiet, but not the most out-of-ordinary thing for him. He was the only one who made the effort to fill Jimin on where they were and how long till they reached the place. Everyone else looked like they were going to a funeral.

Perhaps it was, in one way or another.

Seokjin looked the most put-together among all of them. But as Jimin observed for longer, he could easily identify that far-away look in his eyes. And that, as he had learnt through the years of living together, was usually accompanied by bad news. 

Bad news could mean a plethora of things. But one thing was for sure, it was serious. Nothing could ever get Seokjin like this, if it wasn’t serious.

Jimin had a lot of fixing to do and a lot of talking once all the dust settled regarding this job.

But what if this job was the focal point of everyone’s worries?

What if they could never recover from this?

Chapter Text

Long past the days of spring, the world was shrouded in a darkness unlike any other. 

The galloping deer, the chirping birds, and the noisy squirrels had all taken refuge in the safest corners of the forest. Unheard and silent where the cold wouldn’t touch them. Afraid that their world would break and crash before they could feel the warmth of the sun once again.

But then, came the glory of fire. 

Bright and vibrant. Warm and lovely.

Enough to sustain, enough to grow, enough to live. 

They gathered around, suspicion in the air— thick and heavy. A new feeling bloomed as the fire raged on, not as peacefully. But it was alluring, the heat of the fire, the shiny embers and everything it encompassed as the oranges and yellows danced.

All in favour of a mere replica of what the sun had been. 

And so they gave in, one by one. To enjoy this latest invention of glowing balls of mellowed heat, bringing summers along with it. To love this burning heat that could melt of the snow that came down crashing through the shallow crevices from above.

All was good. All too good.

Until it consumed them all like a ravishing beast. One by one. 

The fire was hungry. Bare-teethed and ready to feast. And they were just mere spectators as each fell to prey, devoured and discarded with no second thought. Spilling blood onto the white bare snow on the ground. 

Red against the white. 

What a pretty (gruesome) picture it painted!

But alas, they would never see spring again.

Taehyung was in a dream-like state. Awake, but not yet. An in-between state, if you will. As his limbs felt surprisingly light, but heavily tethered to the ground that needed him there. As his eyes were pleasantly rested, with some sort of heaviness that kept it trapped. 

He tried his best to get up.

Anything to rouse the world around him and wonder if anything had changed. Anything to see if his pulse was alive and beating, against the wishes of many. Anything to keep awake and look at the state of himself.

For memories were weak and he couldn’t remember the last time he had rested this well.

But alas, he fell back to slumber, deep and soundless. Perfectly asleep, like the world had carved space just for him, safe and sound. Perfectly comfortable, like the world wasn’t actively in flames over his remarkable absence, Perfectly in place for everything to work it out alike the stars that will align for him and him alone.

There was nowhere he had to be for now. He could rest.

He could rest for a long long time.

“So, once we are done with our part of this, what do we do?”
Namjoon asked, soft and broken.

“I am not sure actually. Options are either we wait or we leave immediately.”
Jimin mumbled, eyes trained on the gate ahead of the car.

All while Hoseok slept peacefully in the passenger seat, quite like the knocked out unconscious man beside Namjoon, cocooned in a carefully designed warmth that would soon break. One that was built with perfect pieces placed by six hands for a man they had vowed to kill.

“I would prefer to—”

Before the words were out, a guy came up knocking on the driver’s window.

“Oh, your lot is here! Take the left already and Miyeon will meet you up. Just the six of you.”

“But the cars—”
Jimin asked, but once again cut off.

“We’ll park them.”

Namjoon looked like he had something to say, words choking in his throat as his eyes swept over the soundly asleep man beside him. Something definitive, something real, something sure. But alas, the words were beyond his tongue and everything collapsed faster than he could work them.

Jimin nodded solemnly, moving slowly to wake Hoseok up for the impending end of their mission. One last meet with her, the mastermind behind it all.

Soon, Yoongi, Jungkook and Seokjin stumbled out of their car too. Seokjin looked bleary eyed, sleep-addled brain struggling to find his feet only to be supported by Yoongi’s arm wrapped around his waist. Jungkook was suspiciously quiet, a gloomy feeling over his head, much like the days when they had disagreements about stuff.

But this was blaringly different if Jungkook’s sullen eyes and drooped down shoulders were any indication. This was worrying by checking out on most criteria. Yet, Jimin could only worry from afar, not able to take any action as he still had to get to Namjoon’s clipped attempts at saying something had been cut short.

Everything was weighing him down. And something was not right.

He had to speak, talk, discuss, anything that would break this feeling of heaviness within him. But they were here, walking up to Miyeon with the most important news that she could hear at the moment. For their job was already done. For every worry he had would absolve to nothing as they walked closer to her. For all of the deeply felt emotions that threatened to spill would be of no use without him being alive.

And if, by any chance, perhaps a cruel joke played by the universe were the case and Taehyung was indeed alive despite it all…then, they would only have to face his haunting eyes for the betrayal inflicted.

After all, they only had themselves to blame.

Blame for the hurt caused, for the hurt felt, for the hurt that awaited.

“Finally, the star squad is here. I’m assuming it’s a job well done.”
Miyeon’s nasally deep voice hit their ears, almost making Jimin physically recoil.

Jungkook did. He could see it from the corner of his eyes, quite comically but the reaction wasn’t by any means invalid.

“Yeah, do you need us to bring—”
Yoongi asked, taking over given he seemed to not flinch away like Seokjin whenever calls with Miyeon came up.

“Ah, no rush. I’m assuming you have nowhere urgent to be either. Let’s sit down and draw the plan.”

“Us?”
Namjoon asked, slight tilt of confusion in his words.

“If I’m not mistaken, you six were the ones who became the closest to him, right?”

And at that very moment, Jimin could swear that time had stilled. The gentle breeze that had graced the night, movements tracked through the fluttering curtains had stopped. The chandeliers glowed dimmer as if paying respects to the grave realisation that had fallen upon the six of them. And perhpas, even his heart had stopped as he couldn’t find the pulsing blood beating under his skin.

The marble beneath his feet seemed to stare back at him with a sarcastic smile— his own reflection morphing into the familiar face of their captivity.

As the initial shock left his body, he was able to glance around and assess their reactions.

Seokjin had a guarded expression, sleep long gone from his eyes. Jungkook bit his lips hard enough that Jimin was sure of blood sprouting any second now. Namjoon looked at Miyeon with a devastating frown, confusion morphing to a realisation that washed him over like a cold bucket of water. Hoseok was the unreadable one out of the lot, not looking at anyone in particular but the way he stiffened beside Jimin was enough proof.

Yoongi was the only one who stared at Miyeon with unadulterated anger, hard and strong that would blaze the room, if it could. Jimin could see with how his shoulders were raised and hands folded over while he didn’t refuse to keep the eye contact going on.

But Jimin could also see how there was something more beyond that anger— a worry that was misplaced, piling anxiety of everything that had occurred, and above all, a grief unheard of. 

There was more but Jimin was incapable of looking further and wondering what they were. Especially when he could feel his own heart shattering into pieces that couldn’t be glued back. 

Even with gold and lacquer.

“You want us to do what?”
Seokjin asked, words sharper than the knives he had handled.

Miyeon just laughed, a tiny glimmer of danger bubbling in her eyes. And all of that screamed evil and sadistic to Jimin who could only stare at her.

“Didn’t expect you to talk today, of all days? But, if you want me to repeat myself, yeah sure. I want the six of you to form the plan that would proceed until 18th.”

“That wasn’t part of the mission. We bring Taehyung to you and you give us the money.”
Namjoon muttered, eyes steeled in confidence.

“Well, you're wrong. We decided on you killing him and bringing me the good news.”

“You changed that, remember. You wanted him alive. We were alright, killing him way early.”
Hoseok said, venom in his words as he snapped his head up to face the devil herself.

“You don’t have proof of that statement, whereas I do. And right now, he’s still alive and I’m offering you a chance to make the right choice. I’ll even add two more zeroes to the official offer for the “inconvenience” just for you.”
Miyeon said, sweetly smiling with eyelashes fluttering.

“Do you even realise it? The fucking cruelty of your actions. Because this no longer seems like revenge for your scheming, manipulative and arrogant father. This is just pure blood thirst, riding on the high of a power trip.”
Yoongi’s tongue spit out the words like they were venom.

“Mind your words. I still hold power over you. I can still make you vanish from the face of the planet, like you never existed.”

Jimin stiffened at that. 

This was the first time Miyeon had directed her words at them, these cruel words that could easily be brought to life knowing how her system worked. He understood Yoongi more than anything, but nothing was worth it if that meant losing him. 

“Funny how you point your fingers at me, when you have more kills on your record with blood staining every inch of your soul. After all, aren’t you the one who betrayed his trust?”

Hoseok couldn’t sleep that night.

He had fucked up his sleep schedule after that long nap in the car.

Moreover, he couldn’t bear to shut his eyes when all of them were in distress. Each coping in some form, but all useless at the end of the day.

But at least Jungkook, Jimin and Seokjin were in the same room. The two younger ones had fallen asleep an hour ago. Seokjin was awake along with him, staring at the cloudless sky in despair. They hadn’t spoken much after their meeting with Miyeon, just retired to a room that barely fit all of them.

Even the smallest of the storage room was fine for all of them for they couldn’t bear to stay apart tonight. That would only prove to exemplify the crushing weight of their emotions with no outlet.

Especially with how restless Hoseok felt over the missing two.

Namjoon had gone ahead to meet someone regarding the “mission” which could very well be a lie given how his eyes had shifted here and there, avoiding eye contact at all costs. Meanwhile, Yoongi had just disappeared from there, walking away from the mansion despite Jimin and his own’s calls to stop. 

None of them could catch up to him, before he was long gone. And with their phones proofed for their missions, there really was no way of knowing where he was.

“Give him some time. He’ll be okay. He’ll come back.”
Seokjin had tried to reassure them, but Hoseok knew he didn’t believe his own words either.

Houston still tried to believe those words. 

Yoongi would come back. Of course, he would. What he was worried about wasn't regarding him coming back, but rather his well being. 

It just wasn't right to go out alone, when he was in that mindset. Especially with his circumstances— anger swimming through all his senses, a loud threat hanging over his head and possibly getting lost in the maze that was only lit by the half moon. 

“Joon…”
Seokjin whispered, glancing at the incoming figure.

Hoseok whipped his head in the direction, just as Namjoon looked up with a tired and resigned smile. Without really thinking about how his limbs were moving, he was there, in front of Namjoon, arms wide and encompassing to hold the other.

“Don’t go away like that.”
Hoseok muttered, almost broken only to later add the magic word a few seconds later.

“Please.”

“I’m sorry. I won’t do that again.”
Namjoon replied, cheeks still squished against Hoseok’s shoulders.

Seokjin’s gentle giggling filled the tense atmosphere, likely at the tone of delivery of the words. Namjoon must have looked at Namjoon in a certain way, expressive eyes asking for something in particular, a decodable something for soon enough, another familiar body’s warmth wrapped around Hoseok.

The scent of Seokjin’s lillies and pine heavenly perfume had Hoseok sighing almost in relief.

They stayed like that for what felt like eternity until eventually Namjoon whined about his neck going numb with how their hug had been with the height difference acting as a major factor.

And as Hoseok glanced back at Jimin, who slept rather peacefully, he wished he could as well. Just 4 hours of sleep to escape this world and its cruel ways of getting back to him. Just a moment’s rest to not think anymore about all the guilt and sadness that kept him under. Just anything to lay on a soft pillow, cocooned by his lovers’ arms around him to feel that they were going to be okay.

Before he could wonder and groan about all the beautiful effects of sleep, Hoseok’s attention was pulled back by Seokjin’s words.

“Where did you go, exactly?”

“Nowhere specific. Just had to clear something.”

“Namjoon-ah, don’t do that please.”

“Just trust me on this. I just had to see something and yeah. I did. It wasn’t bad, I—”
Namjoon breathed low and slow, as if the weight of it all was pulling him under.

As much Hoseok was for the proclamation of truth, coming clean and not complicating stuff, he had an inkling that Namjoon needed his time right now. Pushing him for an answer right now would onlt lead to unfavourable outcomes. 

“I will tell you when the time is right. It isn’t bad. I just have to figure stuff out on my own for now. I will let you know for sure.”

“Promise us that you will, before it is too late.”
Hoseok asked, eyes looking for hope that he was right.

And he did find it, glimmering and bright despite the tiredness that clouded it all. It was there, in Namjoon’s eyes, that he finally started to question the unsaid topic, the one that couldn’t be hid even if Namjoon had tried hard.

It was there. And it was finally sinking in.

Free-falling into a realisation that wasn't cushioned by the knowledge of the future. 

Or one that held comfort in its nooks, for they were long past the point of turning back. 

The next day came by faster than Hoseok would have liked. Yoongi hadn’t returned, but Namjoon had promised to keep guard so that Hoseok could rest given how his body sagged with fatigue. And despite the 6 hours of rest with warmth coddling him throughout, he just didn’t seem to get rid of the deep ache in his bones or the weird drowsiness behind his eyes.

He tried to think of reasons, eyes still closed, pretending to sleep as he relished the way Jungkook’s and Seokjin’s arms wound around his middle, all warm and toasty.

Maybe it was the fact that Yoongi still hadn't returned last night. He had waited up until 3 or so, hoping the other would return. Maybe it was his own restless senses that wouldn’t stop panicking until all of them were in his hand’s reach. An impossible task given their job required them to be far away from each other at all possible times. 

Rare were the times when they would find each other partnered for a mission together. And this one was even more special for this was only their seventh time having a mission all together in the entirety of their careers, never mind the fact that this was a high profile mission that had caused internalised emotional disturbances within each of them.

He wasn't usually this peeved about their disappearances, knowing very well, they needed their alone time and he couldn’t afford to be clingy to the extent that they choked from his very overwhelming presence. He maintained that balance of loving them in a way that suited each of their comfort levels. He didn’t want to be overbearing, thus taking precaution for any such situation that could arise.

But this was different. Never had he explicitly heard someone threaten one of his lovers like that— he knew that they dealt with such things almost every other week, he did too. But it was never this loud, intentful and filled with the promise of fulfilling it. A dangerous tilt in the words that would only break when necessary. 

Hoseok didn’t want to even imagine how that would end if it worked out against Yoongi, especially after taking Miyeon on. 

And thus, the overprotectiveness oozed out from every fiber of his for that was the only way he knew how to pacify his raging and fearful heart. For that was the only way he could help to solve this situation, a fix before it even unfolded. For that was his unspoken role in the team. 

Hoseok didn’t know when he had started feeling sleepy during his long wait for a mere glimpse of Yoongi, but all he knew was that there had been one strong pull from an arm that he vaguely realised as Jimin’s and then he was on the bed with his mind already drifting to far away dreamlands, no explanation provided.

But then maybe it was another reason. The one that had prevented any joy and relief to flood his senses after completing the mission. The one that had still kept the six of them almost captive here, under Miyeon’s watchful gaze all in disguise for some bigger plan. The one that had the edges of their consciousness frayed and tethering on nothing.

How could he give a name to the feeling that had enraptured his heart and trampled all over it like he had meant nothing?

How could he even bear to remember the name that had wrecked unbound havoc in his mind and body?

How could he utter the name that had pulled each of them apart in grief and longing that was no longer confined to the six of them?

Kim Taehyung.

“I can see that you are awake, love.”
Seokjin’s gentle voice, deep and rumbly from just having woken up greeted Hoseok.

“Hyung…”

“I’m here. You just need to open your eyes.”

“What about—”

“He is here too.”

The answer was there even before Hoseok could fully ask his question. It was almost obvious with how he had been last night, but more so with how in-tune Seokjin was with Hoseok’s inner workings of his mind. 

“i’m sorry, Hoba.”

Yoongi’s voice was out right at the second Hoseok’s eyes open for his view to be filled with Yoongi’s face. 

There was silence that stretched between them as everyone else in the room waited with bated breaths. Yoongi didn’t mutter anything, as if accepting the silence as something of a punishment for his disappearance last night. Hoseok just stayed in the same position, laying on his side for another few seconds until a single tear drop rolled off from his eye and across his nose to finally fall against the soft white pillow.

Yoongi’s hand shot up quickly, trying to erase the tear track that had tainted Hoseok’s face worse than the blood that had splashed across his face multiple times, shining in the glow of the midnight moon.

“Don’t disappear on me like that. Ever. Again.”
Hoseok’s voice was surprisingly strong, steel-like tone, setting it right. 

Yoongi nodded, affirmative in his actions.

Hoseok just accepted it, letting himself bask in the rays of the morning sun. He closed his eyes, knowing all five of them were there in arm’s reach. 

As it all settled, he didn;t take of how he never asked Yoongi about his whereabouts for the entirety of the night.

What he didn't realise at that time was that this information would come to bite his back, sooner than later!

Yoongi had done something in the span of those seven hours that would change their lives entirely.

Taehyung's dream broke with a blaze. 

The first thing he noticed was the unbearable heat.

Heat enveloping him like an uncomfortable rough blanket. Sweat beneath his rugged clothes, sticky and horrible. Pulsating warmth under his skin , one in sync with his non-existent heart. 

Everything was wrong and Taehyung’s only thoughts swirled beyond whatever hell he was currently in, to the lovely ocean water that had washed over him when he had stayed by the beachside. The glow of the setting sun and the mirth of everyone beside him, laughter ringing in his ears while the water cooled every inch of him.

Yeah, that was the dream.

Far-fetched for now.

Especially so as he opened his eyes to the concrete walls, dull and grey. 

Lifeless, much like how he had felt for almost all his life.

He tried to close his eyes, wondering if this was a bad nightmare, a casualty to the life he had chosen (fated upon). Recurring through the nights of the past decade, they had always stayed. But soon, he grew tired of waiting to wake up from reality and so did the other person in the room, it would seem, by the loud cough.

“Hello darlin’”

Saccharine sweet voice whirled around him, much too sticky and hot, much too like the sickly heat in this entrapped room.

He noticed how his limbs weren’t bound by anything. A rarity, given the very few times he was captured, he had been bound and beaten like no other, to an extent that he felt his muscles aching for months at end. But the pain never overcame the sweet sound of having heard his captors’ skull be crushed under his hands.

Not even the bluish-black bruises that stubbornly refused to fade for months at end.

“Still far away, I see.”
The voice spoke again, but Taehyung hadn’t looked at the source of the voice, still staring blankly at the walls.

But soon enough, he was made to move his gaze upwards at the lady in brown leather and black ponytail as the chilling cold water was dumped over his head, making him shiver instantly and cower into himself. Alas, the two pairs of hands around his arms had other plans for they pulled him up, forcing his face towards the lady.

The lady, no. That was far too good of a word to describe her.

A scheming, power-hungry snake much like her father.

Kwon Miyeon.

Taehyung couldn’t stop the laugh that burst out of him. 

Loud and unhinged. 

Maniac and weirdly pleasant.

Almost like he had lost his mind. Maybe he had indeed. That is, lost his mind.

“Yeah, give me a break from the theatrics.”

Taehyung's sleep-heavy voice broke through just as the silence settled in for a mere second. Just enough for their breaths to be in sync. Like a play on how their worlds had been bound to collide.

“Theatrics? Oh please. Only if you knew.”

“That the six of them were working for you? Or that the SIM card I had bought on my first day there was being monitored on location by you? Or that you don't want to kill me just yet?”

“See, that's where you are wrong. I do want to kill you. But not without playing a little game.”

“And what is that for?”

Taehyung asked, trying not to show how taken aback he was by the unnoticed hurdle in his path.

His path had been set way before the entire tryst with the Kwons.

Sure, it had never been told to anyone, not even the slightest peek into whatever he had in mind had reached the ears of another human. But, the fact that it existed and breathed through him, brought to life in every careless step he took during his time at the beach was proof of that path becoming greener and livelier, quite ironically.

None of them had been able to decode it, not even with the time they had spent with him. And Taehyung didn’t know if he was to be proud of that fact or if that was the saddest thing to ever exist for not a single soul could read his intentions after spending a grand 29 years on this planet.

A path he still didn’t wish to utter, for naming it would only make it real.

Something he wasn’t ready for.

“Pleasure. Sick and greedy pleasure.”

Taehyung stared at her ravenously beast-like smile as she uttered the words, venom dropping from her canines. Miyeon was more than he had anticipated, she was no longer looking for strategized working of the deals between Kwons and Yangs but rather for the fun of it. 

A lion playing with rats, finding pleasure in viewing their struggles from the safest seat of the colosseum. 

“I still can't believe that the great Kim Taehyung fell for the cheapest trick in the book. How did you even imagine that six strangers just wanted to be friends with you for no apparent reason?”

Miyeon had indeed made a good point. 

But there was little truth in those words. Taehyung had caught on early for something to be amiss. Quite the opposite to what she had anticipated for the scent of sulphurous gunpowder and gleam of  hidden knives were quite the peek through to that life. 

Yes, he had an inkling, a faint idea that these six men weren't as honest as they seemed, quite a bit of history that went beyond this little beachside town. Yes, he gave them the benefit of choice, despite being a trained assassin who was meant to sniff out the smallest traces of suspicion. 

And yet, he had stayed. Taehyung had lived, not worrying about how each of those days could have been his last if they deemed it right. He had lived and eventually bonded more than he had expected. He was ready to grasp on whatever tiny bone that was thrown at him. 

It was more than a bone, it was the affection of six people who seemed to have it all in control, moderation practiced over the years. Six people who had shown a glimpse of what life was with them, with love that had persisted. 

And Taehyung was nothing but a hungry dog. 

He was willing to bet it all, if it meant those few moments of joy. 

Even bet on his precious life. 

“I see you have questions but alas, I can't be divulging the plans just yet.”

“Hopefully, you'll get to hear what is expected of you from the right sources.”

“Right sources?”

Taehyung sounded confused, genuinely wondering what were these “right sources” and whoever they were, would they even dare to enter this concrete cell, guarded by burly men. 

“The betrayers of your fate. The ones who will eventually have your gorgeous head on the platter for me.”

Her full-toothed smile only felt more evil by the second. Taehyung had seen almost hundreds of thousands of faces in his lifetime and yet none of them had this dual-coating of being honey sweet while the horrendous bitter lurked brighter than ever. None so bright in the colours of the sins of the world that had been buried in Pandora's box.

There was something else that was sprouting in these murky waters, a kind of wickedness that had been unheard of.

Something that Taehyung wasn't prepared for. 

Something that Miyeon had planned for a long time. 

Something that was going to fracture the delicate threads that had stood through time. 

And all this for some money-mongering, power-thirsty asshole who labelled it as revenge, knowing very well how it would end. Thus, making these specific people a pawn in the game that would turn around for longer, no matter what Taehyung chose later.

After all, Miyeon had always wanted to have power, beyond her father's reach. 

It was a pre-determined wish and no matter her facade of seeking peace for the cruelty of her father’s death, the truth remained that attaining a spot on that golden throne by this grave incident was right on track for her ploy. 

An early surprise is what she called it. 

“Do we really have to?”
Jungkook asked, soft and uncertain.

“I don’t want to get on her wrong side just yet.”
Seokjin replied, staring ahead at the stairs that led downwards.

Jimin took a deep breath, trying to steel himself. Trying to be the man his lovers needed right now. Especially with how Namjoon took a back seat, making it clear he did not agree with any of this or with how Hoseok had been more anxious than ever, even with all of them never leaving his side or with how Yoongi had been after his return that night.

He didn’t know what had happened, but they hadn’t spoken of it, meaning it only brewed in the liminal spaces between the six of them like a suffocating concoction of despair.

“We will be done before we know it.”
Jimin muttered, trying to lighten the mood with his smile.

Of course, it did not have the intended effect. After all, a smile wasn’t going to erase Taehyung’s last memories of being betrayed by them. Or of how they had essentially kidnapped him to be held in Miyeon’s captivity. Or of their own grief that had worsened with each passing moment.

A grief for what exactly had never been spoken aloud.

One  again, fearing that any acknowledgement regarding the matter would only aggravate its existence in reality.

For now, there were here to be the bearer of bad news. 

Jimin still didn’t get the twisted ways of Miyeon’s mind that had come with this scenario to mkae the very people who had built trust over the months to be the ones to drive the knife further as if they hadn’t already done their part in bringing Taehyung here.

But he also knew that any line of questioning would essentially endanger them. Sure, Jungkook could leap across the table and slash her face enough for the bleeding to be of warning. Or Yoongi could point the gun so perfectly that she would live to remember the tale of her near-death. But none of that was worth the risk that came with it.

Miyeon had people, dangerous and wild, far beyond in numbers than the six of them could manage and that was a sure-written note to the grave.

So, they did what was expected of them. A few more days and Taehyung will either be live enough to join or be dead to the living realm and then they were freed of their mission’s requirements enough to enjoy the mountains like Jungkook had always asked for. 

Like how Yoongi had promised them.

The guards outside opened the lock to let the six of them in. Miyeon had made sure to let them know that they were being watched and that each interaction would count. The first of which was this one, in the dimly lit room that had the haunting presence of nothingness. 

Jimin took a quick look around the room, quickly spotting Taehyung before anyone else. But, he was still late, given he found Taehyung staring back at him, eyebrows furrowed with shineless eyes that were stagnant with thoughts.

As they all settled in the room, Taehyung just stared. Not uttering a word, not making a move, just waiting and staring. Jimin would have gotten unnerved by the empty glare that was directed at them, but something about Taehyung made it impossible. He just waited for at least one of the seven people in the room to break the silence that had enveloped them whole.

And it was indeed Taehyung again.

“Why are you here?”

His voice sounded dry, almost dead in the whisper.

And when he didn’t get an answer from any of them, he muttered again, venom colouring his words black.

“Cat got your tongue? Or was it Miyeon's pretty handcuffs on the promise of money?”

“We— we didn’t want this.”
Seokjin said, chest tight with a feeling that Jimin recognised as his own.

“Sure, you didn’t.”
Taehyung’s hollow laugh echoed in the space.

“We never wanted to do all that. You were a job and we were ready on the very same day to finish it, but—”
Jungkook added, eyes shiny and big like always, 

“But Miyeon gets sick pleasure from people’s suffering. She drew the plans, wanting to prolong this game that would only lead to results that no one wanted to talk about. And you went along because the need for money had overgrown into the need for peace.”
Taehyung muttered, cutting off quite abruptly.

“Why did you wait till this exact moment?”

“Orders. Following orders beyond our control. We befriended you for the same reasons.”

Jimin didn’t know what was in the words that Namjoon had spoken, but there had something big enough to cause a shattering effect on Taehyung’s face. Almost too painful, but quick enough to master back to a neutral face that didn’t let on for anyone to guess. 

Taehyung was right in his worth for playing the role of Yang’s right hand man. He had it all, from the very act of concealing his true emotions to the ease in which he could disarm anyone. 

Yes, disarm anyone and yet…he hadn’t. 

“You didn’t need to gain my trust to drive a knife in my back. You could’ve just popped in and done the same. So why did you let that carry on for so long? Why the false hope and the fake cheer?”

“Easier to do so when we’ve established a base with our target, has always worked.”
Hoseok shrugged casually, but his eyes were keen to check for the reaction.

Jimin bit his tongue as it threatened to roll off.

The words of it being false.

They never really did find success just because they had known the targets for longer. It only got more difficult, to be quite frank. Pointing the gun felt more than just a job at those moments. Harder to cope, harder to kill.

Only Yoongi had such experience, but they knew how it took a toll on him. He still woke up with fervent murmurs of a lost soul whose blood had stained his pristine shoes on that beautifully gloomy day. Such was this line of job and that was partly the reason they were looking for this big break so as to never turn to this life of crime. 

But with this undertaking, it had gotten more difficult with each of them being far too emotionally invested in them— them with Taehyung. It was weird, knowing that one day it would all break and none of it would be real. Yet, they continued keeping the act up.

Or perhaps, it was never an act. They really let their real moments shine, without meaning to, without thinking too hard about it. Maybe they really did… consider him as part of them. 

After all, they were humans. And humans rely on memories and emotions, even when they vehemently disagree on it.

“So, a strategy. It was just that. I see. Was the twisting of that knife also part of that strategy, because seeing how unprepared you were, it felt almost theatrical. A performance.”
Taehyung taunted and that served to get a rise out of Namjoon.

“Don’t try to chew off more than what you can bite.”

“Oh, you’re saying that? After leading me on, inviting me out, and trying to be my friend like you cared. Were those meetings even coincidental?”

All of them stood still as the outburst had taken over. No one dared to break it, estimating it to be quite fragile to the current situation at hand. 

Taehyung was right, no one could deny it. But then, they too had been right in their own ways— not morally, of course. It was a job, a mission that had prolonged far more than what had been initially expected of them. Even as they stood there, it was long past the deadline. But they had to yet find a way around it.

The silence was broken by the person least expected, Min Yoongi.

“But you knew it all, didn’t you?”

“Huh?”
Jungkook had a frown as his head whipped to Yoongi who stood tall with arms crossed across his chest.

“You knew it from the moment you stepped in the bookstore. You saw it all, felt it too, yet…yet, you allowed it. Why?”

Taehyung looked stunned, lips parted as he stared right at Yoongi who held on surprisingly. 

Jimin had only seen Yoongi hold eye contact so intensely very few times in the period he had known know the older. And each time, he had found himself getting drawn into those feline eyes like they were swirling pools of magic that could hypnotise you. 

Taehyung, on the other hand, didn’t seem to be too drawn into those lovely eyes for the same reasons but rather for the reason behind them. Hard and strong, they held a truth only between them and Taehyung’s fearful, almost suspicious stare turned into one of mischievous gleam. 

And then a laugh broke out, low and maniac. 

“You’re a clever one. Aren’t you, hyung?”

“I can’t believe you this long to confront me though. I had expected that you would tell it that night. After all, you did see me at my lowest. Breaking down on the floors of a dirty bathroom is really not like me.”
Taehyung said, a smirk gracing his face as the other five looked on, definitely confused.

“Still didn’t answer my question though.”
Yoongi muttered, not sharing the mirth that had taken over Taehyung’s body.

“Well, well, what’s the rush? Shouldn’t the others know about me? Me who knew that the whole deal of sending me off for the purchase of a clearly tracking SIM, me who knew about the gunpowder on your skin and shiny blades in your crevices, me who knew about the very fact that you guys meant danger when Seokjin hyung approached on that beach.”
Taehyung said, smiling like he wasn’t recollecting everything that had occurred in the past six months.

“I saw your glances, the drinks, the fests, the play, and the plot. But, you lot confused the heck out of me. Because you didn’t spike my drinks, or stab into my skin, or even try to gather information about who i was. Why was that?”
Taehyung asked, head tilted like a sad puppy.

“Like we said before, Miyeon had just asked us to keep contact with you. Not to kill you, or kidnap you just yet.”
Namjoon replied, after a cough as the silence grew uncomfortable.

“I see. Well, to keep the grounds even. I knew about it. Something about you screamed that you knew the demon beneath this flesh of mine all too well. Not suspiciously but as someone who recognised game.”

“Who recognised themselves, as if reflection in me.”

Seokjin drew in a breath, almost instantly. As if the world was choking him for a truth that was uncomfortably filling the atmosphere around him.

“I noticed it when we celebrated Yoongi’s birthday party, when words swirled and they slipped past like they had always been there. I especially noticed on the day you attacked aka two days ago if I’m not wrong.”

There was a single reply to that. Not a nod, not a shake, not a hum. Just silence.

“Anyways, to the point that Yoongi desperately wanted to bring from this conversation…can I get a drum roll please?”

And yet the room was silent. Something that irked Taehyung, since he really was trying to put a show and no one was aiding him in this simple task that would add flair.

How very rude of them!

“I refuse to divulge it.”

“Is it because of the drum roll?’
Hoseok asked, eyes glimmering and unreadable.

“Ah, no. I’m not that much of a grudge-holder. I wasn’t going to tell it either way.”

“Would the reason come out if Miyeon sent her bull-dogs?”
Jimin asked, back straight as a ramrod.

“Now, now. I don’t break under any circumstances. You must have read it in that yellow file right?”

“Taehyung…”

“That’s my name.”

“Please.”

“Oof, you look good begging. Too damn good. Maybe in another life, you could beg to earn my love. Not break it.”

Jimin drew a breath, far too loud in the stunned silence of the room.

Taehyung had said something unthinkable. 

Jimin wondered if it really meant what he thought it meant. He couldn’t have meant that, right?

From the corner of his eye, he could see Namjoon’s mouth open in attempt of asking, saying or doing something that would fix and yet…yet the silence continued like a poisonous vine that had grown its way into the walls of this room and into their hearts.

Jimin stared at Taehyung, who looked like he hadn’t uttered anything out of the ordinary. Just his usual self, glamorous in its ways and even more lively than he had been at the beach. Concerningly happy, if Jimin had to say it. As if being back in the grounds had allowed him to feed off that putrid energy, much like how they would have been, if not for their target being Taehyung.

But those words, he had meant something. And the six of them were still nowhere near close to deciphering it. They were not ready to confront it, despite knowing it was there, ready and awaiting like a ripened fruit.

And they refused to be lured by it. Not yet. 

“Taehyung, that morning after my birthday, you met my eyes and I saw something beyond what was on the files, beyond the rumors of those faceless people, beyond what you presented to the world. I got a glimpse of strangeness behind those eyes, ones that didn’t fit what I believed of you. And, I just need to know if those are true.”

“I need to know if what I saw was just my projection of you in hopes of avoiding this mission forever or the real thing that refuses to show itself to the world.”

Yoongi had spoken it with utter confidence and perfect ease. 

As if his conviction had always been right and he was just making sure to hear it from the trained killer— whose training was all against uttering the truth. Yoongi seemed more at ease than anyone else in the room, even Taehyung.

Taehyung, whose eyes were conflicted with clashing thoughts, much like the storm. Taehyung, whose lips betrayed his show of emotions as the slight twitch caused a ripple in the stillness of his face. Taehyung, whose silence spoke better than all the performance he had put up for the past 10 minutes.

“Have I cornered you far enough for an answer or are you still hanging onto a reputation that could easily be forgotten with the winds rising?”
Yoongi mocked, lips twisting into a slight grin.

“Aren’t you a charmer, Yoongi?”
Taehyung asked, regaining parts of himself as time went on.

“No hyung anymore? Am I close to whatever you want to despicably hide from everyone?”
Yoongi leered at him while the other five watched with bated breaths.

“Surprisingly, a good day for you because you haven’t lost that status yet.”

Taehyung’s smile was soft, like the tug of war had finally ended and he was ready to lose for the energy that went into avoiding it was far more than everything else.

“As for the million dollar question that you keep prodding at…”

A bang.

A shout.

All down.

Chapter Text

You lie through your teeth, pearly white as if the reefs beyond the shore had made them the perfect shade for your mouth. 

You lie with your chest, bared and proud— without a single show of remorse.

You lie like it’s your second nature, akin to the one underneath your skin. 

You lie and I break.

The single source of light from the white bulb, hanging by a bare thread, was out. Darkness filled the room, faster than anything. It was darker than the inky skies outside, darker than the eyes that tried to make out the surroundings, darker than the hearts that sang in sync at that moment.

Hoseok could feel his heart in his mouth.

And he knew the reason.It was dark. It was pitch-dark and they were almost unarmed, perhaps not with Yoongi and Jimin who carried their penknives everywhere. It was blindingly dark and they were in a small room with a person who possibly hated them more than anyone in the world had ever hated.

Taehyung was there, free to attack. His limbs unbound, free to use brute force enough for at least one of them to crack their skull against the wall. Even imagining the disdain brewing in his heart had Hoseok recoiling physically. His contempt was worse than anything they had faced in their lives. 

For once, their target was alive and breathing.

Taehyung could do anything to harm them, avenge his own capture, and make them pay for what they had done to him. Even if it led to worse gates than being held in a caged room like a rabid beast.

And he would be right on all accords. 

For they were humans, who loved to even the score, work the difference out by any means and get what was theirs. Even distrust.But then, the door opened, flooding light from the single hand-held torch.

Hoseok struggled to make out the faces in the dark, but the man who he was terrified of, seemed so calm. Taehyung simply sat there like he was made of marble. A statue with the most passively domineeirng eyes Hoseok had ever seen, with the power of nothing in his hands, yet enough to shake the underlying notions of him. The younger man just sat there like he wasn’t afraid of the shot heard at the distance.

An acceptance on his face laid bare and open for anyone to look.

Except the six of them didn’t and would sooner than later come to regret it.

But before they had time to collect themselves for a solution to escape this place, the door creaked open, and the torch made a statement that had them standing up from their cowering positions— hands against their ears and on shoulders that were familiar beyond the realm of light. 

“Miyeon wants to talk to you.”
The voice holding the torch muttered, loud and clear.

Hoseok could feel Jungkook shuddering slightly at that.

There was no need for clarification. Miyeon wanted to meet them. Perhaps the oh-so great plan was to be discussed. Perhaps it was regarding the shot heard in the distance. Perhaps it was about everything that had transpired between the seven of them. Intrigue filling faster than the fear had Hoseok taking the lead as each of them followed out of the room to more darkness.

“Take the stairs and one left. She’s waiting.”

Hoseok nodded, waiting for the last of them Yoongi, to exit the room.

Something seemed off with the latter. The line of questioning that had been cut abruptly was proof of the same. There were doubts lingering on how Yoongi had even managed to come to a conclusion of their plan being foiled by their target from the very start. 

But now was not the time unfortunately. Despite its importance in moving forward, there were more pressing issues— aka Miyeon and the mysterious shot that had plunged them into darkness.

“Finally.”
Miyeon’s voice cut through the dark, making Seokjin flinch.

She was in a dark outfit all throughout, shiny material as from the distance as the torch she carried bounced off it. Her face was almost covered by a similar mask, except for her eyes. And in her hand was her trusted gun that she kept on her at all times. 

“There’s been an ambush. Likely Yang, by the looks of it. Or perhaps, someone else. I need all of you ready to join in and search the hideouts. And then, take Kahei to get the electricity running again.”
Miyeon barked out the orders.

And Hoseok couldn’t help but notice the fear underlying her words, something sinister yet anxiously waiting. There was something else that was bothering her. Perhaps it was Yang who had gotten notice of Taehyung’s disappearance and locked in on the Kwons as suspected of such activities.

“That isn’t what we agreed on. We are not under your regime. We are hires, just made to work on commission and none of this was discussed. Why are you—”
Namjoon argued, eyes blazing at the audacity of Miyeon to even expect them to work for her like they were part of the “crew.’

They weren’t.

They just did what was necessary, under any number of people who required their services. They weren’t affiliated to one gang, or one boss. Anyone who wanted them just scoured the dark internet where Seokjin had set up shop for any interested ones. But that was in the past. They had established themselves quite well since then, enough for the word of mouth to reach the praises of their clean work.

Sure, they had been taken under someone during their formative years, but since the past 5 years, they had broken off from it, one by one. Of course, Jungkook’s was the last, given he had just made it through 2 years ago.

But they never stuck to one. Money to survive as six in any circumstance that their unpredictable life could throw at them was their sole motivator for even picking these up.

Well, of course, the part where they had been trained for this also played a part. After all, this thirst of inflicting violence and screeching hearts was only brought about by those years holed in, learning to wield weapons far heavier than their bodies. There was this unexplainable feeling that overtook their bodies when it was time to execute the mission, one that had craved for this exact moment of finishing it.

The moral dilemma of it had been old news. 

That was quite the statement when taken literally. But it was true, for they spent those formative years, tearing themselves apart for choosing this life. They had spent time, looking at their hands that had been scrubbed until raw and pink only to find the imaginary blood dripping down. They had spent it all, dreaming of far-away faces whose trust had been broken for the sake of this mission.

And then came the nightmares, the terrors making them shake like a leaf on its last fall. Yoongi was the one who always comforted them, for it seemed like he was the only untouched from that dreary feeling. But then there were times when his hiccuping sobs had been heard through the thin walls. 

They hadn’t chosen this life either, forced mostly, either as exchanges or for worth or for something in return to sustain the breath they held. And so the days of wondering and beating themselves had only given unfortunate results— ones that needn’t be remembered for it only brought more tears. 

So, the logical thing was to forget it. Act like they were any other human going about their job and returning back, with money in their accounts and living like it was intended for all. That was the only way that their sanity had been retained through the multiple years behind them.

Most times, it was easy to believe that. Easy to believe that they were doing it for the money and that their target had truly been devious in cheating off millions or sinning against the ways of the world. Of course, they couldn’t be the ones to judge that given they themselves had far worse on their bodies. But that was enough reasoning to the weary feeling when holding the gun against their temple. Enough to move on, enough to continue, enough for it all.

But once in a while, thoughts cropped up like unwanted weeds and all they could do was stare at the wall blankly until one of the others shook them awake from that daze— one that paralysed every part of them.

This time, this one with Taehyung had been worse than ever. No amount of pacifying and wondering and waiting had helped. It was simmering beneath their skin, hurting in each breath taken and that was it, was it not? They were bound to this guilt till eternity as it would seem. It wasn’t to be helped, they did this and they deserve to feel this unbearable remorse with each strike of the clock.

And repent for the deeds, they would.

“I will indeed cut everything that was agreed upon and make it such that it will be a living hell for you to even get another commission.”

“Try me. I mean it, take it—”
Namjoon muttered, only to be cut off by Yoongi’s hand on his forearm and his words that pierced fast as if to blanket the situation, to everyone’s shock.

“Just tell us the direction, we’ll get it done.”

"That's what I thought.”
Miyeon said, glaring at Namjoon with her narrowed, feline eyes.

As they moved in the direction pointed out, after collecting torches, weapons and anything that was likely required, the suffocating silence only thickened. It was as if they were waiting for either Namjoon or Yoongi to break it. 

And break, he did.

“Hyung…why would you do that?”

“Answer me.”
Namjoon asked again, fingers grazing Yoongi’s to make him stop.

“Just trust me on this. We need to move along with whatever she asks. We need the money.”

“But, this wasn’t—”
Jungkook said, eyebrows furrowed.

“I know but we just have to.”

“Sweet talk and woo her until then.”

Hoseok could see the flicker of worry and caution in each of their eyes, especially Jimin who knew how cryptic Yoongi could be. But their relationship had stood through everything, even if this was worse than anything else. So, there was no question of not trusting Yoongi. Even if it led to their doom, which was very unlikely. The older man had more of everything— knowledge, experience, and connections. 

And so it was a given at this point. There was no reality in which doubt would creep up between them, especially when such a delicate situation arose.

Trusting each other was the only way to salvation. 

“Jimin and Seokjin hyung, come along with me to check the spots. You three, try to get the electricity running. Be careful.”
Yoongi said, quickly turning his heel in the other direction, leaving Hoseok, Jungkook and Namjoon slightly confused and shocked at the barked orders.

It went as such that the three that went in search of the backup generator, managed to meet Kahei who led them to the basement where the fixing up took quite a little time. Gratefully, they had all the required items needed, and with the wire cut by bare brute force and a plier, it was easy to tape it for the moment and connect it to the other hidden generator.

Meanwhile, the other had managed to kill 8 more who had been across the walls and in the hidden areas of the big estate. They also captured one to make him talk, regarding who had sent him. The man simply spluttered in pleas of saving his life and when threatened further by Seokjin’s trusted dagger against his jugular vein, he finally spoke the truth.

“We were sent by an anonymous person. We don’t know his name. Just that he had worked it out for us to come at the time upon a signal processed. We haven;t seen him, just word of mouth and the money was good enough to do as expected.”

“What kind of signal was it?”
Jimin asked, eyes narrowed on the muscular man who laid in the throes of a trap set to keep him alive and bound.

“It was honestly a weird one. There was a morse code that spelled out go, blinking up from the tall tower, about 5 kilometres away from this. And that meant, we had to start with a delay of 30 minutes.”

“And you are sure that wasn’t Yang?”
Seokjin questioned with a foreboding sense in his words.

“I don’t know, but I doubt it, given we recognised his voice.”

“Could’ve very well used a voice modulator.”

Yoongi hadn’t uttered a word since they had come here. He had just held onto the man’s arms to keep him still, letting Jimin and Seokjin work it out with the questioning. And that just made Seokjin more suspicious. The very fact that Yoongi, of all people, not being keen on adding questions of his own, seemed to be too unreal.

There was something else at play. And it kept bothering Seokjin, even when they had done the deed of killing that man in one shot.

At the very least, they could honor his words by giving him a quick death.

Jimin seemed hesitant to pull the trigger, a first for them, for it had always been Jimin who was the one to protect and attack when the others fumbled. He donned a completely different persona on the uneven grounds of this crime-infested land. No one could see him falter and that meant taking the first shot when others hesitated.

That was how he had been chosen to be trained along with the elites of their batch.

But today, he looked away as his finger slipped past, not making the bloody scene take over his mind. All Seokjin could do was pull Jimin by his neck and let him find solace by hiding his face in the crook of Seokjin’s long neck.

Seokjin stared at Yoongi who just blinked at the mess of an aborted scream and anguished expressions at his feet, all while Jimin was attached to his body like a youngling seeking refuge from the horrors of the world. And when Yoongi looked up to meet the older’s eyes, there was a dazed gaze in those pretty eyes that Seokjin had fallen in love with. 

Dazed in confusion, in wonder, in thought, in disgust, in remorse, and in heavy breaths. 

That night when they finally returned to their quarters, after Miyeon smiled crookedly in appreciation of their efforts and promises of more rewards, Seokjin found himself sleepless. He thought back to the words uttered by the assailant, by Miyeon, and then of Yoongi. There seemed to be a connection in all of them, and he had to make sense of it.

Of course, he did trust Yoongi more than anyone in the world. It was as if their fate had been written in the stars, always to find each other, no matter the circumstance. But this sneaky feeling that creeped up his back, at the thought of something more, was disturbing his already battered mental state. And there had to be an end to the secrets that lay awaiting for him.

And it seemed like there was another, just as awake as him in the same room.

“Hyung…”

“I can feel you breathing. You are awake, right hyung?”

Hoseok’s words pierced through the quiet of the room. 

Seokjin couldn’t help but let out a breathless chuckle in response. 

“Get up then!”

And that was how they found themselves on the balcony, enjoying the cool night breeze. The night was adorned by a few scattered stars throughout and a single crescent moon, bigger than the last night. It seemed like the night was such that it had been described in fairytales over and over where the prince met his maiden under the willow tree.

Except there were two lovers being as human as possible.

“Did you…do you feel weird about this whole thing?”
Seokjin muttered, carefully choosing the words.

“Well, you have gotta be specific, sweetheart.”

“I don’t know. It is just that I didn’t really have a good feeling about this from the start. I mean, why did Miyeon need all six of us to capture a single man? And now apparently, he always knew what we wanted of him? I get it that he’s like this really perceptive assassin, but that was…I don't know anymore.”

“Hyung, I’m gonna be honest, but as of late, ever since that gathering we had in May, it’s just been weird. Miyeon requesting to continue it further and Taehyung being so…lifeless. There was a moment when I just suspected him of knowing more than he let on but that was carried along.”

“That day…two days before the whole ordeal when we went to the cinema. It felt so ominous of the following events. As if a premonition, a bad omen. He broke down completely and there was nothing of reason that could have happened in 20 minutes of us arriving.”

Hoseok breathed out softly, exasperated at everything as if recollecting the days leading to the betrayal had something unique that had made Yoongi catch on. 

“And now Yoongi is acting weird, acting like he has a secret he can’t let us on. Isn’t it better if he lets us know? Can’t we not help as a team, if not as lovers? What and why is he hiding it?”

“To be honest, all of us are on the edge and maybe it’s just that but I saw how red-rimmed Jimin’s eyes were. He hates us knowing that he cried, but today…it felt like he had accepted defeat.”
Hoseok said, shuddering slightly.

“Miyeon is not our concern at the moment. And for that very reason, I agreed with Yoongi to just move along. I hate the fear that comes along when she makes those threats, despite being strong enough to defend. Just not a fan of it.”
Seokjin added, chuckling softly.

“Weren’t Taehyung’s words a little unexpected? What did he mean when he said that to Jimin? It felt like…”

Hoseok’s words were left unsaid, for they each knew what he was referencing. There was no need to clarify, for the three or so words had implied as much quite explicitly. 

“Is there a chance that it was true? Would it have been true if we—”

“We won’t ever know of it, darling. It is better if we don’t roll down that path.”
Seokjin’s firm voice came through.

It wasn’t an outright rejection of the very idea. It was just the logical thing to say given how they currently were. Any amount of thinking regarding the matter would lead to more unsavoury feelings and the remorse of it all would run deeper until none of them could ever live past this. 

There was nothing to say. It was just a fragment in the months spent, one that would fleet and become a memory soon enough. A vacation that held more than they could ever imagine, but ultimately that was all it was. For they were the ones who had surrendered Taehyung to the devil's hands.

And yet, Hoseok’s lips feebly moved to make a point.

“We have already lost, hyung. We took that path the moment we crossed the line to become friends with him. We have been rolling ever since and the only way to stop is when all of us meet in hell.”

Seokjin shivered a little as a particularly strong gust of wind blew over. 

Just as he pulled his arms to his sides, in hopes to warm his body, Hoseok moved closer, bringing along with him a Kashmere shawl that Seoljin hadn't noticed earlier. And within seconds, the soft material wrapped across his back to provide little solace against the harsh weather that had come about abruptly. 

Seokjin didn't have to utter his feelings out loud, it was well implied by the very action of resting his head against Hoseok’s shoulder. The fact that he relished this quiet company did not need any repetition, much less utterance. 

With words having ceased to exist between them, they simply stayed as such until the cold got to their teeth, making them retreat back to their beds, huddled under cosy blankets and the warm temperature set by the thermostat. Sleep came faster, now that their worries had been relieved and unburdened on two shoulders instead of their own.

They wouldn't cease to exist just yet. But there was hope in knowing that someone else out there was in the same boat as them. To share the heaviness that weighed them down, to comfort the unease in their guts, and to stay alongside with intertwined fingers.

And unbeknownst to them, there were a pair of eyes in the dark, that keenly looked at their sleeping figures, wondering how he would make sure that they didn't have to think and worry their heads off any longer.

He would make sure to weed out any causes for the loss of their precious sleeping hours to this unfounded distress. 

The next few days were a blur to Jungkook.

He wasn’t sure what to do with the restless energy underneath his elastic skin. 

The swirling voices in his head were louder than ever. It wasn’t always this bad, but some days, it just got out of hand. And these particular weeks had been rough. Everything crashed over like waves that tried to dismantle the lighthouse at the edge with its force.

His mental stability was tilting each minute. He could feel the quivers that shook him, quiet in its ways for anyone to notice.

And he did the best he knew.

Keep quiet and let it brew within him until it exploded making the shrapnels inflict injury onto his insides.

Jungkook was quite the masochist when it came to this.

Usually when this happened, one of his lovers would come around to get him out of that cycle that his mind usually pulled him in. With gentle hands and gentler words, they would make sure he was okay. And as dependent and pathetic it sounded, he was grateful, he had people who looked out for him, especially when it got tough.

But the past week had been difficult on all of them. It was a miracle that there hadn’t been a big disagreement between the six of them. With the rising shackles and cooped in pressure, the chances of it bursting like firecrackers was a lot. And yet, they had tried to be there for each other even when their own personal shit got to the roof.

Taehyung’s words had only stroked the fire that roared within him. The voices got louder and he got quieter. Jungkook knew he would break sooner than later and all he could do was wait for when it happened.

He had to stop before that, for he couldn’t ever burden them with his outburst. The others were tense as is, especially since yesterday after another hushed discussion took place in the bathroom.

“Yoongi is away again. I worry he might be dipping his toes in waters that don’t concern us.”
Jimin had said, lips pulled together tightly.

“I tried asking him about it, but he seemed skeptical again. And i just don’t want to him think we are straying apart.”
Seokjin had whispered, soft and resigned.

“By the way, where’s Namjoon?”

“Oh, he said he wanted to meet an old friend who had called him over for tea and catching up.”

Hoseok had nodded at the answer, simply taking it at face value as his mind was still stuck on Yoongi and his unexplained disappearance.  

Jungkook had stayed quiet last night, simply curling between Namjoon and Jimin, as he took what he could from their shared warmth. That was all he would allow himself, a reward reaped for existing without going crazy as his voices had screamed for him to be through the day.

He had known this trait of his when he was 13, stuck in the alleyway where the older boys had bullied him to give up his precious colourful pencils. He had known that once it got too much, he would go on a rampage, giving into whatever his mind was feeding him.

Sure, those were his saviours at that moment and multiple more in his later life, but they had also done equal damage to how he viewed himself and everyone around him. And when Seokjin had noticed it first, only to be confirmed by Jimin whose perceptive skills were second to none, they had just stepped in without question.

They had formed their own routine to keep it in check, to help him focus on their sweeter than honey words than the foul ones that his mind kept adding on. Small ways, not enough to make it obvious but to make it count for Jungkook to not give into that ugly side.

Right now though, he tried not to focus on Namjoon’s rapid tapping against the cedarwood table or the fast pacing of Hoseok across the room. 

Why, you may ask?

The reason being Seokjin having been called by Miyeon for a very important meeting regarding Taehyung. That was all that had been mentioned to them and the flare in anxiety had been instant. 

Jimin had taken up cleaning their room, well, trying to at the very least. Given it was clean after the housekeeping staff had  already visited earlier that morning. Yoongi, on the other hand, remained seated by the other side of the table, looking unbothered and calm, but Jungkook knew him well enough to see the tremors in his fingers that was indicative of something else beyond this.

That continued for another hour or so, until finally Seokjin stumbled into the room, eyes unfocused. Jimin was the first to spring up from his crouched position by the cupboard. He looked at the older with an odd look in his eyes, but soon reached over to help him onto the empty space of the couch by Jungkook. 

“What happened?”

“Are you okay?”

Hoseok and Yoongi asked at the same time, both concerned and futile since Seokjin didn't utter anything for a good two minutes after that.

“He's…he's being punished.”

Jungkook could see how Seokjin trembled as he stared at his own hands.

“Who?”

“Taehyung.”

A silence prevailed unexpectedly. Jimin, who had been on his knees in front of Seokjin, holding his arms to settle him owing to the unsteady steps earlier, suddenly tumbled back with a thump. It was this noise that prompted the next question, a repetition. 

“What exactly happened?”

“Miyeon just asked me to accompany her on a walk as she talked about some intel she received. Something that could provide clues on that night's break in. And then she talked about how Yang’s gang had made contact, regarding another shipment hijack. As we walked, she said about moving the timelines closer in accordance with the decision, perhaps this full moon.”

“What decision?”

Jungkook knew his voice was from disuse, but it cut clear through the quiet. 

That was the first of the words that had been spoken since morning.

“To give Taehyung the choice of freedom in exchange of information and an insider attack of Yang’s labyrinth. And if he didn’t choose that, to take the shot against his heart, as per her words.”

“What about the previous offer that had stood regarding him getting a chance to be part of her puppets?”
Namjoon asked, eyes furrowed.

“Well, coming to that point. It was thought over after yesterday’s events when she went to talk to him. He refused outright to do anything for her, not even at the cost of gaining his freedom. Though, I doubt that Miyeon would have ever seriously considered that.”

“You mean to say…even if he did agree, he was going to be killed nonetheless?”
Jimin asked, lips trembling as his eyes searched Seokjin’s for an ounce of it all being false.

A lie. A nightmare that didn’t touch the world they lived in.

And Jungkook could only stare as he felt it wash over that they had crossed all possible boundaries. Because it was Jimin, of all people, who seemed more reluctant to even accept the thought of Taehyung being killed. Jimin, who didn’t glance back at the coordinated explosions that took mansions in flame. Jimin, who was now too deep to even fathom an alternative to the ending that had been mused over.

“Yeah, and as we came to the end of it, she took me down there. To Taehyung. And I saw him there. It was worse than anything I’ve seen in the past year. Dried blood clung to his skin and everything was just so grimly red.”
Seokjin closed his eyes forcefully at that. 

“That… that was a warning to us. I don’t know what of, but she’s not trusting us as much. I don’t think I can ever look at Taehyung again. The only images that come behind my eyes each time is of his battered body, lying on that dirty floor. But despite it all, when he sensed us there, he looked straight into my eyes and smiled so painfully that I—”

And Jungkook just knew his crashing waves had found solace in its final push as he finally broke apart.

Before he knew it, there were hands on his body.

One pair on his face, holding him tight as he had involuntarily closed his eyes. He didn’t know what had ticked the other off but he must have done something to do something. And by judging how he wasn’t seated on the couch, it was enough.

Crooning voices filled his ears next, as his own hands had been held tightly by two pair of hands to not let him do something drastic like two times ago when he had tried to pull his own hair off as everything got too much, a reaction that had ashamed him more than he would like to admit.

It was getting hard to be there for every molecule within him ached to do something other than just being bound like this with gentle hands that served their purpose wonderfully, but in ways that weren’t quite what he wanted. Jungkook could feel the headache bursting along the seams, steadfast and strong.

“Love, you are okay. We are okay. All of us are here. Jiminie’s behind you. Namjoon and Yoongi are the ones holding your hands, can you feel them?”
Hoseok’s voice, as he recognised it, came through quietly.

“C’mon, slowly breathe in and out and then we can sit down.”

“That’s right, baby. A few more times and we can hide from the world.”

That was distinctly Yoongi’s voice, low and perfect enough for Jungkook’s grated nerves to finally slow down.

He didn’t recognise whatever happened after that either, for when he opened his eyes blearily later, he was in bed with Seokjin on one side and Jimin on the other. Seokjin’s hands were stroking his hair, lulling him to sleep beautifully. 

And just before he slipped there, he heard voices again.

Except they were from outside his head.

“...should’ve said something…really got bad…”

“...afraid he would do worse…”

“...same as when he heard Joon-ah got injured…”

“...still should’ve…I feel guilty for not…”

“...don’t…”

“...tommorrow.”

Soft were the hands that held his face. 

Just enough to melt into their touch. 

But something was off, he could feel it vividly.

The tremor in the fingers, rapid pulses that accompanied the puffs of air from above him, and above all, the callouses that made the touch more real than ever.

With much reluctance, Taehyung opened his swollen eyes. Wide awake to see if his dream had finally become reality. Except the view that greeted him was unlike any other. Sure, he had dreamt of faceless people holding him like he was the owner of their precious heart. He had experienced a little less than those fleeting fantasies. But this…this felt like a cruel joke. 

How could the man even show up now?

How had he dared to, after everything that had transpired?

The last meeting had been between the seven of them, six and him alone— the clear distinction drawn in sand and yet the water didn’t wash it away.

Taehyung could only hope that in another universe, the line hadn’t existed at all. In that world, perhaps, the seven of them were bound together forever without all the hassles of living like this– making each day count, painting their hands in sins and regrets, and above all, plunging knives with tears in their eyes.

That was another universe. Not this one, definitely not this one.

Especially when he had seen the unadulterated fear that shook their faces the last time he saw them. That meeting was nothing short of a disaster. He wondered if that wasn't cut away by the unexpected variable, would the results be different? Would they feel more than the guilt, remorse and wrongness that clawed within them? 

That again, was another universe where the turn of events had been different. Not this one.

He was sure of it, absolutely sure. 

And yet, he couldn’t help but wonder why the other had even come here. By the looks of it, discreetly at that.

The slight flare that he had seen in the other's eyes that day was still present, blaringly more present. A passion of knowing and an understanding of beyond had existed. Something they hadn't ever acknowledged out loud. The silent communication that had taken place before the tiff was yet to be completed. 

And this time, it would be more direct and confrontational.

Or so, Taehyung hoped.

Surprisingly, it was him who had broken the quiet that had settled comfortably between them in this slightly awkward position. 

“A charmer indeed!”

Yoongi chuckled softly, as he looked up at Taehyung.

“Can I sit here?”
Yoongi asked, as he pointed in front of Taehyung.

“Be my guest.”

Taehyung chose not to comment how strange it was for Yoongi to ask permission like that, when he had broken through the gates and had stroked his face gently just a few minutes.

Taehyung knew what Yoongi was looking at. After all, he could still feel the sting coursing through his body. Each part of him had taken a beating, all too well from three burly-looking men just a day ago. And he hadn’t gotten the energy to even clean himself, look presentable enough for someone, for Yoongi.

Hell, he hadn’t even checked his own body for anything that could have been serious. 

So, in that state, he struggled to pull himself up enough to sit across Yoongi. The same guy who struggled to keep his hands in check as he watched Taehyung sit up by himself, as if the need to help had him physically shaking.

“Picked the lock?”

“Bribed.”

“And you aren’t afraid of getting snitched?”

“Got enough dirt on them to shut any such prospects.”

“Nice.”

Yoongi’s eyes tore away from Taehyung’s face upon the latter’s utterance in understanding. And instead found the gaze to be concentrated on the floor beneath them which was lightly stained with the blood, already hardened and dark in its ugliest shade ever.

“Why did you sneak in here?”
Taehyung asked, not being abe to bear the silence between them.

“Just had to.”

“Seokjin hyung told you, didn’t he? He looked like he would faint when he saw me.”
Taehyung said, smiling like he wasn’t the one to be beaten till his bruises had the skin breaking.

Yoongi moved his hand closer in the slowest of movements as if he was afraid to touch all the other parts of Taehyung that looked like they had been held barely by the skin over him.

Taehyung instead took his hand, guiding him to his forearm, letting Yoongi touch the surrounding regions of the open wound. It was Yoongi who hissed loudly at the contact as if he were the one to be inflicted with such cruelty.

“I am okay.”

“You aren’t though. You look—”

“C’mon hyung, I didn’t expect you, of all people, to be icked out by my sight. You have seen enough to last the lifetimes of all your ancestors.”

Yoongi hung his head low at that, trying to make the best use of the limited vocabulary his head was providing at the moment.

“Aren’t I pretty?”

As the words hit his ears, Yoongi whipped his head up to find Taehyung smiling oh-so beautifully that it had Yoongi’s heart shattering to a million pieces right there.

“Yeah, you are.”

After all, how could Yoongi hide all those big feelings in his heart for longer? Especially when there were inklings of one of their demise was evident in every second spent under Miyeon. Especially when all of what they had was fragilely placed on the balance scale of the universe. 

Precarious and delicate.

And it was all so worth it as Yoongi saw the younger preen proudly under the attention like a tiny yellow flower blooming as the first drops of rain bounced off its petals.

“Can I?”

Taehyung nodded, letting Yoongi take his arms to clean all the grimy and dirty dried blood off it. The older was as gentle as ever, as he took the wettened cotton pads to clean it and then disinfectant to sanitise it further. When all was done, he took out the gauze and bandages to wrap the worst of the wounds.

“Aren’t you afraid that Miyeon might come here tomorrow and realise I’ve been taken care of?”
Taehyung asked, curious and poking.

“She won’t come here tomorrow, don’t worry. And when she comes by later, you can always pretend. You are a great actor, aren’t you?”
Yoongi teased, alluding to the whole six months before them.

But Taehyung couldn’t help but think back to when not all of it was false for him. Yes, he knew of their motives beforehand, but there were those specific moments where he felt more loved by these six strangers than anyone he had met before.

And maybe that was also the reason to just accept that fate of being taken by them.

Sure, that wasn’t the only one, but Taehyung had fought for himself as far as he could remember and when these people who came with soft voices to lure him into a state of being cherished, he would take it no less.

“I don’t get you at all.”
Taehyung muttered, making yoongi let out a questioning hum in response.

“You fight my escape, drug me, bring me here to be left to these vultures for that was your job. Fair enough, but why are you still reverting back? Meeting me in secret with first aid kits to treat wounds that didn’t have anything to do with you. Why? Why are you being so cruel to me? I don’t get it.”

Yoongi looked up at Taehyung in response, abandoning the gentle cleaning of the wounds on Taehyung’s legs.

There was a quiver in his lips, as if he himself didn’t know the answer, or perhaps as a means of just coming about to realising it but never being able to put it into words.

Because why indeed, had Yoongi sneaked in here at the dead of night to help Taehyung when he was one of them?

Taehyung whined loudly, breaking Yoongi out of his stupor. 

“Sorry, sorry. I’ll— I will do better. Sorry.”
Yoongi fumbled, mumbling it all up as he took the hand up to graze and pat it with a clean cotton pad.

He had accidentally held Taehyung’s hand too tightly, causing the rush of pain that wrecked through the younger.

“I’m sorry, Tae-yah. I really am—”

“Stop it. I’m fine now.”
Taehyung said, lips curving up kindly.

“Was this a way to distract me from my question or as reminder for me to be quiet oe a punishment like—”
Taehyung asked again, continuing with that smile only to be cut off by Yoongi's fast paced words that were loud enough to be heard outside the cell.

“Don’t say that. Just don’t. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

Taehyung’s hand stopped the overflow of words as it was pressed against Yoongi’s petal lips quickly.

“I was joking.”

Yoongi nodded, gulping down harshly. Every single of his senses always felt like it was on an overdrive when he was near Taehyung. Almost like when he had first bonded with Seokjin in the hidden stairwell and had an armed fight against Jimin. It felt almost like he had kept falling into a daze when he looked at Hoseok during their meets. Or when he had heard Namjoon during one of their discussions forward or when he found Jungkook looking out for him.

Dare he say, it felt quite similar to when he had started falling in love.

Oh.

That was dangerous territory.

“So, what is it? Why did you return tonight?”

“Look at you being so brave when you still haven’t answered my question.”
Yoongi said, a light smirk playing on his lips.

“Well done for a counter.”

“I’m not countering. I can give my reasons right now. But I really do need to know why you stayed even after knowing what we would eventually do? Don’t tell me you were being hopeful that we would change our ways or that you were just being paranoid. I believe you are better than that”
Yoongi asked, almost putting Taehyung in a corner.

“Oh please, I knew better than that. It was all so obvious as if you were careless with the clues to ever think I hadn’t noticed.”
Taehyung said, a strange gleam in his eyes.

“Then what is it? Even now, you know how to pick a lock. Everything you need is right here, if you look keenly. Your hands are unbound and you are free to leave. Trick them all and escape. You had your chance when we came to meet you too. You could’ve easily held one of us hostage on account of getting what you need. Why then, do you choose this?”

“In due time, I will let you know of it.”

Yoongi tried to hide his disappointment at that. It had bugged him from the time he knew that Taehyung had caught on to their plans. 

And now him refusing to answer was the absolute cherry on top.

“Okay what if…one of us isn’t there for that later? What if one of us died? Will I never get to know of it?”

“Well then, I die with the secret. Buried in the wet mud beside me forever.”

Yoongi mentally hoped that was never the case. He did not want Taehyung to die.

And what a strange thought to have about someone he had agreed to kill just six months ago!

“I would like to propose something then. Can I?”
Taehyung asked, just as Yoongi gently placed a finger under his chin to bring him closer for the clean up of those nasty cuts across his cheeks and nose.

“Sure.”
Yoongi muttered, trying not to react as strongly as Taehyung’s gentle puffs of breath fell over his own skin, a sign of life.

A precious sign.

“What if…when both of us free from the shackles of all this, we meet on the perfect red moon and share the answers to each of our respective questions? I will go first, is that alright?

Yoongi would be a fool to answer otherwise. 

And so the yes came out in a bare whisper, while their faces were centimetres apart with the scent of metallic blood and strong anti-septics swirling between them.

A few good moments passed by, until Yoongi let go abruptly, pulling back like he was brandished with hot iron. Taehyung seemed to get out of his daze pretty soon, looking elsewhere as Yoongi packed his stuff in haste. There was an almost heartbroken look on his face, but he quickly masked as Yoongi called for his attention.

“I’ll see if I can come tomorrow, but please keep it dry till then. I’ll get you better food and clothes when I come the next time. Rest well.”

“Ok. Yeah, thank you.”
Taehyung muttered, eyes wide at Yoongi’s figure that towered over him from this position.

“Bye.”

“Yeah, bye.”

And when Yoongi reached for the door, Taehyung wished that they had indeed met in different circumstances. 

Oh, how he wished to spend all of the night with them!

Except his wish came true by a bit because the moment Yoongi opened the door, he was met with the most unsuspecting person standing on the other side with a look that would kill a hundred men in sight.

All directed at Yoongi, who stood shell-shocked with his lips parted.

“Why?”

Chapter Text

Yoongi had quite his share of close encounters.

A rise taker through and through, as it would seem, given his vibrant history in this specific field.

Most had been calculated, carefully considered for the benefit of the job. Some were out of the sheer will of proving the others wrong and thereby making it known that he was right all along. But a few on the rarer side, had been solely fuelled by the audacious courage that bound his sharp wits and his insane weapon striking energy for the perfect killer combination to lead someone to their early death.

Or in some cases, his own.

But fortunately, he had always been saved by the nick of time.

At times, even the ones closest to him wondered if he knew how grateful he should be for the very fact he was alive. After all, this playing field was never even to begin with and the sport he had chosen to participate in was more ruthless than ever. 

Cut-throat with no space for the ways of soft hands and gentle smiles.

But Yoongi’s risks had all paid off well. Quite handsomely too. And somewhere along the line, it had become less of the result of risk and more of the way it caused the thrilling rush of adrenaline in him, strangely addictive in its aftertaste that left him aching for more of that intense rush.

One such came to mind as he stood there frozen.

“There needs to be a better way to do this.”

A deep voice came from behind him.

“Oh yeah? Then better come up with it, genius.”
Yoongi retorted as he turned around, staring into the deep brown eyes of the man in front of him.

“Cat got your tongue?”

A smirk on Yoongi’s lips and that had the other man’s face twisting accordingly.

“God, you infuriate me.”

“Sure and that’s why you meet me in hollowed out walls at the ungodly hours like this.”

“Why are we even hiding?”

“Are you serious?”
Yoongi asked, genuinely disgruntled at the question.

“Yeah. Like we are grown adults, why do we have to—?”

“Why don’t you ask a little louder, huh?”

“Shut me up then?”

The room was dark with the only source of light being the phone that had been carried by both of them illuminated the ceiling above them. Yoongi blinked at the man in front of him, in all his glory of dark pyjamas and tousled hair that sat atop his head.

And god, if Yoongi wasn’t in love already then this was the breaking point as the need to wipe that smirk off those lovely lips overrode every other sensible thought in his head.

In seconds, they were over each other. Lips that crashed like sunlight against the green trees, harsh and unforgiving. Hands that found each other’s bodies, waist and neck alike. Their teeth clashed enough to hurt, but it wasn’t even the slightest compared to what Yoongi had been feeling from within. It got worse as the man’s hands came up to hold Yoongi’s face like it were a delicate flower, needing to be cherished with all his strength.

At the moment, he realised it wasn’t just the love he felt for the man in front of him, but also the fact that this could be the moment that would finally break him out of this hellhole. Yes, he would get “caught” making out with the assassin hired by the rival gang, but also it would mean that he had a chance of fleeing.

Don’t ask him how that made sense.

He was dumb with the endorphins that had spiked through his brain at the mind-blowing kiss. He was not trying to connect the two either, as he closed his eyes imagining how the future would look for the two of them. 

And he wasn’t even keen on correcting anyone, a proud fact he flaunted on his chest. 

For now, he was in love! 

“Damn Min Yoongi, I didn’t know you had that in you.”

“Shut up.”

“Why? You won’t try your trusted method on me again?”
The man teased, a smile breaking out the little dimple on his cheek.

“Nah, try shouting it too while you are at it.”

“Huh?”

“Figured I have nothing to lose when my heart already belongs to you, Joon-ah.”

And those words had three different reactions. 

Namjoon looked at Yoongi as if the world had stopped right at that moment, eyes wide and lips parted. It was almost too surreal of a moment for him to hear Yoongi, of all people, confess to him so abruptly. There was a look in his eyes that translated closely to, ‘Did you seriously mean that? You aren't joking, are you? I need you to tell me now.’ And Yoongi just gripped Namjoon’s waist harder in confirmation. 

Just as the moment was at the verge of getting sweeter, there was a question lingering on the tip of Namjoon’s tongue.

“Why?”

Yoongi opened his mouth to give an answer, the most obvious reason ever. He loved Namjoon for everything he was, he just was and there wasn’t a grand explanation to it. The very fact that he too had taken the same risk to meet Yoongi here was enough reason. He didn’t know when exactly this feeling settled so comfortably in his chest or when he had grown to adore every little mole on Namjoon’s face, but he was here now and he would make the most of it.

But as he did, there was a shriek from the corner of the room.

“What. The. Fuck.”

Yoongi just stared at the corner as he muttered loudly.

“Jung Hoseok.”
Yoongi yelled, pointedly glaring at the position.

“Shit.”

“Park Jimin.”

There was a meep in response. And slowly, came out two figures with wide eyes and drawn faces, as Yoongi looked on with a barely concealing angry expression. Namjoon just gazed between them, waiting for one of them to break the silence.

“Why the fuck—”

But before Yoongi could go further, there was a jiggle of the door knob. 

That was the third reaction. 

The most dangerous of them all. 

And Yoongi, for some reason, had used his head to lock the door unlike the previous times. Not quite the risk taker after all.

There was a flurry of movements. Namjoon was pulled to the corner by Jimin as Hoseok came forward to grab Yoongi to the other hidden corner.

“No. Just wait here.”
Yoongi said, as he walked to the door and unlocked it, just as Hoseok let a small, ‘no, hyung.’

“Oh Yoongi…”
The man on the other side of the door muttered, quite surprised by the looks of it.

“Hi, Daejung-ssi. We were here, trying to get the extra lights since the one in our room isn’t working. But, we must have locked it by mistake.”
Yoongi stated the lie so effortlessly that the older man seemed more convinced by the minute.

“I see. Someone said there was an intruder here so I wanted to check it myself.”

“Oh no, it’s just the good old us. Seokjin-hyung wanted to do some studying and needed a different light bulb so he sent us.”
Hoseok added in, trying to make it more believable.

“Did you get it then?”

“No. We haven’t searched those last boxes, so we’ll get to it soon.”

“Okay then. I’ll leave you to it. But make sure to sleep in early. We’ve got a de-brief tomorrow.”

“Sure, sir.”

And with that he left, leaving the four others in the room in complete silence.

A frightening silence as Yoongi turned to Hoseok slowly. 

“What the absolute fuck, Hoseok? Why are you two even here? Were you spying on us?”

“N-No. We just were here and y-you— Wait. You should be answering as to what all this was?”
Hoseok spluttered until he remembered what was at stake.

“That is none of your business.”
Yoongi answered, crossing his arms across his chest as the other two came out of their hiding spot.

“It literally is.”

“Nuh-uh.”

There was a stifled laugh from the corner and a quick slap to the mouth that resounded louder than the giggles. Namjoon looked at them wide-eyed at being caught. But, could you really blame when he had just heard Yoongi go ‘nuh-uh’ in the most sassiest ways possible?

“Yoongi hyung, it really is. We’ve been—”
Jimin cut through after a moment.

“No. Not now, Jimin-ah.”

“We have to. He needs to know.”

“Seokjin’s gonna be upset that he wasn’t here for this.”

“Can both of you stop talking in code? And actually just say it to my face.”
Yoongi muttered, putting an end to Hoseok’s and Jimin’s exchange of words.

“Um, so…y’know Jungkook, right?”

“...Yeah?”
Yoongi answered slowly, suspicious eyes on Jimin.

“Well, he came over the other day and confessed to Seokjin hyung.”

“Isn’t he in Namjoon’s—”

“Yeah. Well, he came over the other day and um, he confessed to Seokjin hyung.”

“What. The. Fuck? When did this happen?”
Yoongi asked, loud just as Jimin had muttered the words.

“Ah well, We got to know of it because Jimin had some work with hyung that night three weeks ago and came across Jungkook looking at Seokjin with puppy love eyes.”

Yoongi had an incredulous look at the words as if asking if they were serious at the explanation and Jimin earnestly nodded as if he had indeed heard the question.

“Did you know about this, Namjoon?”
Yoongi asked, turning to the other who looked on with flushed cheeks.

“No. Just that Jungkook liked me?”

“Huh?”

“Sorry to break this whole thing. But, we really do need to have this discussion elsewhere, before Daejung comes back.”

Yeah, so they didn’t have the discussion elsewhere.

It was safe to say that none of them caught a wink of sleep that night. Namjoon had suddenly fled from there, owing to an emergency, which Yoongi still doubts. And the others just kept mum, never bringing this up even when Seokjin asked incessantly. Yoongi was in a daze as he retired to bed with a strange smile on his face.

A smile that had signified that something miraculous was due in his fate.

But the better part of the risk taken wasn’t the fact that he had kissed Namjoon, his enemy, a few metres away from his reporting boss who could have easily taken any measure upon finding him in such a compromising situation.

No, the risk was in the fact of what happened when the truth finally spilled.

After much delay scattered with pent-up feelings and way too many silent evenings which usually were filled with retellings of the said day’s events unlike now, one that Seokjin finally put to an end by calling Yoongi, Hoseok and Jimin out at their spot, it finally came to fruition.

“Spill.”

One word from Seokjin’s steely voice and Hoseok took the lead in regaling all of that day’s events, including their discovery of Yoongi’s feelings for Namjoon. 

“I see. And does he know of Jungkook?”

“Um, yeah. Well, sorta.”

“Okay, all six of us are going to sit down and talk about this.”

That was how they ended up at the secluded spot that had earlier been used for shipments delivery. 

Namjoon and Jungkook seemed to have the same kind of silence that had held the other four hostage for the past week. It was strange how they didn’t acknowledge how they knew each other enough to meet like this or the way in which they had just come to meet without questions asked.

“Hi Seokjin hyung.”
Jungkook broke the silence between the six of them as he mumbled, eyes steady on Seokjin and Seokjin alone.

And that kickstarted the whole conversation, Seokjin taking the lead naturally since he was the main connector between the two.

“Hello, gguk-ah. I hope you’re doing okay. Now, let’s get to business?”

“You talk of love as if business, how very strange!”

“Namjoon-ssi, you aren’t one to talk at all.”

Yoongi had to pretend a cough to break the unseemingly settled tension in between the two. And so with that the facts known were set: Jungkook had a crush on Seokjin, who was open to returning the feelings but with a few conditions, and Namjoon, who was honoured to love Jungkook all the same. Yoongi loved Namjoon after one too many expeditions. Hoseok and Jimin were the only ones unaffected by this as far as Yoongi knew.

“So, why are they here?”
Yoongi asked, a little suspicious for their role so far had been eavesdropping and coincidentally arriving at both these scenes out of nowhere.

“Well, you see Yoongi-chi, it’s more complicated than the facts we know.”

“Feels like I’m in a research study.”

“If it makes you comfortable, we can always treat it like that. After all, we are subjects in the bigger experiment of the universe.”
Seokjin replied, all-knowing and teasing.

“Yeah, there’s no need for that.”

“Okay then, Hoseok and Jimin have already been in a relationship for over 8 months. That was after four years of holding onto feelings that didn’t diminish and two years of being in a no-strings-attached relationship.”

“How am I getting to know of this now?”
Yoongi looked at the two culprits with narrowed, playfully furious eyes. 

“You never looked. Where did you think they went together each time after completing training? Their lies were too flimsy to be believable.”
Seokjin added, lips stretched in a smile.

“I don’t know, I just didn't want to embarrass them over their shitty excuses.”

“Hey, you didn’t ask and we just thought you were uncomfortable over us being…like that.”
Hoseok muttered, soft and hesitant.

“Me? Me who has had a crush on you since forever?”
Yoongi asked, pointing to himself as giggles burst out steadily.

Hoseok looked wide-eyed at Yoongi, who simply laughed on as if he hadn’t actively aided in shattering the slight line of thought the others had built upon. There was silence after the laughing ceased which had Yoongi slightly conscious of exposing what he had tried since the very minute he realised it.

“Anyways, if we can continue…Jimin actually has had a crush on me since a long time, similar to Yoongi’s.”
Seokjin added, effectively cut by Jimin immediately.

“Still do.”

“Yeah, so that’s where we stand.”

“Now that isn’t the whole truth, is it hyung?”
Jungkook asked after keeping silent since the first greeting.

“Right. I refused Jungkook’s offer because my condition had been that he would have to accept the fact that I love you, Yoongi. I mean, this isn’t the best way to confess and this is not perfect but I do and I have done for a long time. Maybe since the moment I came here. You were so gentle and kind to me, despite there being no obligation for it. Shielded me through it all, when I was sobbing over my family’s cruelty to push me here. You were there and I don’t think there’s ever a world where I wouldn't have fallen in love with you.”

Seokjin blurted it all out, half preciously adorable and half spluttering through the embarrassment of having to confess in front of all. But he was absolutely confident in the words, a conviction of really wanting the other to know that he meant all of it. Yoongi, in turn, looked on with a daze that wouldn’t quite break just yet.

“So, everyone likes everyone?”
Namjoon asked, blunt as none of them spoke up after Seokjin’s big confession.

“More or less, yeah.”
Jimin answered surprisingly, eyes gleaming with a bright glint.

Yoongi still had that far-away look in his eyes. Hoseok shook him to get him to focus back on them, which proved to be slightly successful as now Yoongi just stared at his own fingers, pink brightening up on his cheeks. None of them mentioned anything, mostly surprised at seeing Yoongi, of all people, become so shy.

The haze of another reality had been replaced by the mortification at being caught. Yoongi inwardly preened with a bright vibrance, at being the object of someone(s’) affection.

“What’s the proposed solution?”
Hoseok asked, moving the focus back to the topic of discussion.

“We all get in a relationship and move from there.”
Seokjin replied, nice and easy.

“What about the ones—”

“We either learn to love along the way or completely give up on this idea and break apart.”
Seokjin answered just as easily, which had Hoseok nodding along.

“Six months trial period?”

And there was a burst of giggle from Jimin and Jungkook at the very notion of having a trial period. It felt almost like it was a job probation or a product being serviced. Fond smiles were present on each of their faces, especially Yoongi who looked at everyone in a renewed light of more.

“Sorry to rain on the parade, but for this to work, we will need to free ourselves from our jobs and identities because of the whole rival thing.”
Namjoon mumbled, fiddling with his fingers.

“We will.”

And so the risk was duly fulfilled as the six of them escaped, cutting off contact completely, changing identities and looks and into hiding for the next year until their respective agencies gave up on searching for them. They stuck under low, never staying long enough for them to be familiar with anyone— a pity for people who thrived among people, but they had each other now.

All in hopes that it was worth endangering everything they knew.

A true risk since it could have easily gone sideways, with their heads on the platter. 

Three years had passed by with multiple side missions and job undertakings to feed their stomachs and keep a roof over their heads.

And now as the memories trickled past his faltering fingers, Yoongi simply stood still, waiting for the shoe to drop. 

“In. Now.”
The surprisingly steel voice muttered.

“But—”

“Now hyung.”

Yoongi could do nothing except follow the orders, in hopes that his entire cover of this hidden secret isn't blown over.

Taehyung stood up once he saw that there was another person with Yoongi, fists quickly tightened, just in case he needed to throw a punch or two. But then his gait just as quickly changed, as he saw the man behind Yoongi.

“Oh, you’re here?”
Taehyung asked, almost too warmly.

Not in the sickening way that made it seem like he was playing a role in the play— a fictionized version of him, ready to be sold to vultures. But it was so wonderfully sweet and warm, like his words were like the heater that glowed and burned through the harsh winter winds. It was a voice so beautiful that one could find the peace that many looked for at the top of the highest mountains of the world.

The man smiled for the first time that night.

Till his eyes crinkled slightly and his lips widened enough for his bottom lip’s piercing to catch the light of the bulb that hung precariously above them.

“Jungkook-ah, you were supposed to stay in bed.”

“Yeah I was asleep, but then I woke up to find you missing. After all, weren’t you supposed to be in bed as well?”

“I’m sorry…I had some work. I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
Yoongi replied, feeling slightly out of place. 

“Hm…work.”

And Yoongi recognised that voice, skeptical and in a way that said, ‘really? that’s interesting.’

“We need to go though, before the guards come back.”
Yoongi muttered, eyes fierce, ignoring all the possible outcomes of this night.

“Don’t worry, they won’t wake up for another five hours.”
Jungkook said, smiling all too brightly.

One that needed no explanation, one that meant the job was done and couldn’t be questioned further, one that Yoongi had full trust in its completion.

“But, you need to rest.”

“That can wait.”

Yoongi was hesitant to mention the whole incident that had occurred in the morning. A little too raw from just having experienced Jungkook enter that phase of not really being there, unreachable to an extent that only their hands had been in solace to getting rest. 

Hands that held Jungkook down before he did something that he would regret. 

Hands that let him escape his brandishing mind that screamed in unknown voices of terror.

Hands that eased every aching part of Jungkook, all because his body went into overdrive of relentless thoughts.

“Are you sure? Jungkook-ah, everything’s done here, we can go back and rest.”
Yoongi muttered, unable to stop the overflowing worry within him.

And somehow Taehyung had sensed that too apparently. Maybe even more, since he was the trigger for Jungkook’s whole deal that day. 

After all, Taehyung had been too close to let go and so each of their behaviours had stuck with him. And maybe there was a part in him too that cared for them, despite everything that had transpired, despite the betrayal of being stuck here. He cared and it was all too visible with his next words.

“Jungkook-ah, I’m okay. See. Yoongi hyung patched me up well.”

At that, Jungkook gave a once-over to Taehyung’s noticeably battered body that was littered with marks and bandages. 

Of course, Yoongi had done a good job and there was a little proud smile upon hearing Taehyung admit that. But, he was too focussed on Jungkook, whose face showed an unreadable expression for a moment too long before it was schooled back to being normal. His usually open book face had closed off like a clam within seconds.

“I can see that. But, I would feel better, if you ate something as well.”

And that was when Yoongi noticed the small inconspicuous bag in Jungkook’s left hand. 

Taehyung smiled in response, knowing all too well that he couldn’t possibly refuse the offer for Jungkook would make it his life’s mission to feed him. And moreover, he hadn’t been given food, much less, good food since the past 20 hours. If the opportunity came for something better, he would absolutely take it.

After all, the good food that he last had was that of Seokjin’s and Hoseok’s restaurant. Hot steaming rice with braised fish and wonderfully spiced banchans— oh, wasn’t that the dream after all.

So, the spread was set with rice, soup and grilled meat from last night’s dinner that had been kept for Jungkook, since he had slept the evening away. With two separate bowls and three sets of chopsticks, Jungkook carefully took all the items out. Seeing how the other didn’t quite appreciate his intruding help, Yoongi just sat aside with ahnds folded in his lap.

The room was quiet as Taehyung took a bite of his food. As if awaiting his response or remark of how the food was. 

“Ah! How I missed this.”

And that had a physical reaction on Jungkook, whose shoulders relaxed immediately. He scooped up the rice into the other bowl, nudging at Yoongi to take a few bites as well. Hoseok had put in extra for Jungkook whenever he woke up, which had worked in their favour given how they were eating at 1 in the morning. 

“No, Gguk-ah, I’m fine. I’ll cut the fruits instead, hm?”
Yoongi asked, giving an alternative as he had already caught a glimpse of the apple, peaches and tangerines. 

Jungkook nodded, albeit a little put off by how Yoongi wasn’t joining them.

The post-midnight dinner went as silent as it could. There were no conversations, just happy munching noises, a little wincing and groaning. Jungkook took his time, studying Taehyung in between bites, like he was seeing the other for the first time all over again. Yoongi was almost too afraid to break whatever trance the other was caught in. 

Instead, he plated the fruits neatly for them to eat after all was done. The lack of words among them had him on the edge even if he had always found it comfortable to spend time alone and quiet. It was slightly uneasy to see their minds gearing up with questions left unsaid.

“Why peaches? I don’t think they’re in season right now either.”
Taehyung asked, innocent and curious.

“Because it’s your favourite fruit.”
Jungkook answered easily as if it were a fact known to all. Something that wasn’t a secret, something that people just noticed and made sure to include it.

And that was when Yoongi noticed how Jungkook had brought all their favourite fruits specifically tonight. That had his heart growing in sizes incomparable, especially having already spent three wonderful years loving the younger. It was a task impossible and yet, each time, his lovers proved it to be false.

Taehyung stared at Jungkook for a second, as if astonished by the ease of his words and also by the attention paid to every detail of the other— target or not. Until, he shook himself out of that reverie. Yoongi could only imagine what was going on in Taehyung's head.

The same guy who could possibly escape without as much as the sound of his feet touching the ground. The same guy who just laid there, having received the worst of punches while not putting up a fight. The same guy who had all the power and skills to take down a whole gang.

Yoongi couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something that held Taehyung back in the bounds that had been put, as if he had willingly let himself be in these trenches.

And what a dangerous thought that was!

“Could you do me a favour?”
Taehyung asked, looking a little lost.

“Depends.”
Yoongi teased, lips curving up.

“Can you let the others know I’m okay? Especially Seokjin hyung, please just let him know it didn’t hurt as bad as it looked. It is not—I don’t need any of you to hurt…”
Taehyung’s eyes were a little shiny, unshed tears lining up.

Yoongi looked up at him, a little shocked at the favour asked. This wasn’t what he had assumed when he replied playfully. There was a sincerity unseen and that broke something in his heart, pieces shattering onto the ground. Quietly, the hurt was being nursed 

It also meant that Taehyung had clued in as to why Yoongi was so worried about Jungkook— more than normal. There must have been enough proof for everything that had occurred. Maybe it was in Jungkook’s sunken eyes that had shone so brightly at Taehyung or the tired crinkles around Yoongi’s lips.

“I promise I will.”
Yoongi whispered gently, hands aching to hold the other’s in his own.

Taehyung had been all sharp edges and witty remarks since the time they had left that beachside town, but now as he sat there with hands folded in his lap, looking as pitiful as ever, Yoongi had the sudden urge to run away with him, tightly secured in his arms. 

The realisation sat heavier than the one that had come to him that very night, just an hour ago.

Yoongi had to leave before the urge turned to reality. 

He couldn’t afford it just yet. He couldn’t lose out on it all, when he was so close to making it out of here.

A few more days and maybe then, it would become all too easy to even think of that urge— the clawing, maniac urge that bubbled under his ribs.

Jungkook hadn’t spoken much, just looked on at both of them. As if studying whatever was on their minds that hadn’t been brought up on their tongues— words unsaid and feelings unbridled. 

“I need— we need to leave.”
Yoongi suddenly mentioned, eyes not meeting Taehyung’s.

And so with hushed whispers and quieter packing, Yoongi urged Jungkook to hurry up so that they could leave before anyone else noticed their absence back in the room. Taehyung didn’t move, just kept his gaze on them, unchanging and whole. His eyes moved along with their limbs, catching glimpses of haste and uncoordination. 

And his eyes were unforgivingly blank, as if none of them were privileged enough to read the thoughts behind them. The last of what Yoongi remembered as he shut the door was Taehyung’s lidded eyes, skin around it littered with cuts and tiny bruises. Hands unbound and yet, he sat like he had no chance of escaping.

That image would haunt his dreams and nightmares alike.

He knew it, after all, tonight would be another sleepless one. 

One that would leave him with dark circles and lethargy, one that Hoseok would notice at first glance and one that would warrant him his lovers’ close monitoring throughout the day.

But something nagged at the back of his head, despite everything that had occurred that night. Why hadn’t Taehyung questioned Jungkook the same way he had to Yoongi just an hour ago? Because in what world was Jungkook sneaking behind Yoongi with a bag of hot food and sweet fruits not considered a clash against everything that has led Taehyung to his misery? 

His mind was still far away as he took the route back to his room all by muscle memory. 

Jungkook was right behind him, not having uttered a single word to Taehyung as they left. Which was unusual given, Jungkook was the more talkative one out of the two of them. But, Yoongi chalked it up to him still being tired and worn out from that morning’s episode.

(That wasn’t entirely the truth. 

Yoongi would have known if he had prodded a little further.

Jungkook was tethering farther than they could hold. Everything from that morning hadn’t resolved all that easily for the bubbling voices that spoke of agony and violence had risen from their graves. Ugly and loud, until it would burst.

The reason for his quietness should have been a clue after all. Meeting Taehyung after almost a week alone and he had no words to exchange except pleasantries? How strange was that!

He was concerned over Taehyung’s well-being but then as they eased further, the more withdrawn he had become. As if everything within him was a turmoiled mess, voices that gained strength from his silence. 

If only, Yoongi had asked further.

But, Jungkook would manage to keep it in control until the switch flipped over.)

Just as they reached the threshold of their assigned room, the big spacious space just for them. Yoongi pulled Jungkook by his wrist and slowly whispered,

“Will you tell them?”

“About what?”

And that was it.

Those words were proof enough that this night had never happened to any of the others. Forgotten already by memory to ever be reopened on questioning. 

Not Taehyung’s promise though. 

It stayed in Yoongi’s heart, a reminder of the night when he had come too close to whatever was brewing in his heart. And so, the words would finally come out in the morning— a lie of course. Words from a night guard of how Taehyung was taken care of. And so were the resounding replies of how Miyeon was a cruel cruel person to be healing the wounds that she had inflicted.

(Yoongi would never utter how Miyeon had no role in playing the healer.)

In a far away land, a black butterfly dances to the tunes of the gentle breeze, warmed by the yellow sunlight. 

Soon there’s another colour playing along, orange and bright. They move in circles, fluttering across the fields until another green in colour joins to sit by the pretty blooming white flowers. Three become five quickly as a pink and blue one join with pretty patterns all across their wings. They welcome the brownish-golden one just as easily.

 Merrier by the second, they move like feathers, touched by the hands of the universe itself. 

Until finally the purple one joins, somehow making the butterflies’ group complete. They move to each other, now drawn by the fate of red strings that pull with each flight.

And for the next month or so—a total of their lifetime, they fly around like this, finding each other in every miracle of nature. It will continue for a whole 30 days before, they are carried to a space unreachable and immortal.

Till then, it was just them, seven pairs of wings fluttering and dancing.

Seokjin was a mess since the time he had seen Taehyung.

Jimin could imagine how bad it must have been for Seokjin to break this way. An irreparable way of destruction, as it seemed. Too harsh, too sharp, too scarred. 

The same man who had seen a room with all its four walls painted in splatters of blood as he had walked in calmly to negotiate and ultimately, kill the target without a second thought. The same man who had caused one of the best electrical disturbances from over 100 feet away for chaos perfected. The same man who had been trained since his late teenage years to kill without a conscience. 

And yet, it came to these very points that brought Jimin to the next question. 

If Seokjin had persevered through all those gruesome events and even participated to some extent, then how bad had Taehyung's condition been to cause such a visceral reaction in him? 

What has changed for Seokjin to become so resistant against violence? The same one that had his life marred with each of its wonderful outfits, purple and red.

What was it about Taehyung that made it so difficult for him to even exist? 

Jimin had an inkling as to what if could have been. 

After all, both of them were cut from the same cloth in different fonts. 

All six of them had been, to be more precise. 

The feeling and realisation that Seokjin too was irrevocably there, had Jimin reeling in shock.

It had come about slowly. 

Yes, he was almost aware of his own feelings. Much like that day when he had gone to talk to Hoseok that night, but was too hesitant to bring it up when they were so close to finishing this chapter of their life— a job, after all.

There were words stuck in his throat that night, luckily put off by Seokjin’s warm words of love that had carried through. But he wasn’t sure if it was really in his favour for now he sat looking at the space where Seokjin should have sat if he was there in the room.

But no, the oldest had escaped the mansion just as his breakfast was over. 

Even if he knew how badly Hoseok coped with the fact of not having lovers in arm’s length. And right now, with Seokjin’s location unknown, it only made things more difficult.

Except, it didn’t seem like that.

“Is Jungkook still asleep? He didn’t have anything—”
Jimin heard Hoseok questioning no one in particular.

“No. He had food in the middle of the night. I was awake so I reheated the meal.”
Yoongi answered, eyes still glancing at the headlines of today’s newspaper.

Hoseok nodded, taking to the blankets strewn around on the beds. 

Jimin just sat there, thinking.

It seemed like all he had been doing for the past few days had been just this. Thinking uselessly. Thinking aimlessly. Thinking cluelessly. Again and again and about a topic he didn’t know of. Randomly jumping from one to another until his brain was a mushed alphabet soup.

How had Jimin, the sharp-witted man with a tongue sharper than his secret dagger that lay stuck to his hip at all times, lost words and reason over a single mission?

How had he fallen so hard, escaping the grasps of everything he knew and excelled in?

How had he continued to dream of something like this, unachievable at best?

There was a soft, little questioning noise that broke him out of his stupor. Jungkook was wide awake as it would seem. Blankets pooled around his waist while his face bore a solemn look. Another questioning noise escaped, strangely as if it were Hoseok’s.

“Namjoon-ah, you’re going again?”

“Yeah, I’ll try to be quick.”

With that, Namjoonie was out the door just like how Seokjin had left 45 minutes ago. Except this wasn't an escape or a way to just forget this wretched place. No, Namjoon’s steps had the firmness of someone with a plan. 

Not aimless wandering.

“I don’t like this. Really don’t like this.”
Hoseok mumbled, as he stared at the space where Namjoon had stood a few minutes ago.

His shadow lingered by the door, like a wispy figure of their imagination.

Jungkook just stared, trying to figure out if Namjoon too had a part in whatever Yoongi was planning. But, there was an inkling each of them were working on their own, until Jungkook hijacked Yoongi's plan.

Yes, he felt slightly guilty for not giving up the whole secret to the others. But, right now, he wanted the older to be safe and if by trusting that his secret was safe with Jungkook, Yoongi felt at ease enough for delving further, then he would take his chances— even if that meant being the reason for his lovers’ anger.

He was sure that it wouldn’t matter in the long run.

Not when all he could see was the battered, but neatly bandaged images of Taehyung when he closed his eyes. Pretty and broken, the assassin sat in his corner and that very reminder had Jungkook’s heart aching and howling for a remedy that didn’t exist.

“Hyung, Miyeon is asking for Seokjin hyung on call but he’s…”
Jimin’s voice cut through, the guard by the door standing straight awaiting for them.

“I’ll go, don’t worry.”

Jungkook was slightly more comforted at the thought of Hoseok being the one to meet her. It wasn't that Seokjin wasn’t strong enough for this, but after yesterday’s incident, he really wasn’t in the headspace for more of Miyeon’s antics.

Soon after, Yoongi left as well.

Jungkook didn’t know his whereabouts, but the reason was a sure aim in the direction of whatever happened last night. Yoongi was trying to be discreet, but his ways only brought more suspicion from the others, which wasn’t a good sign. 

Jimin was the only one left with him in the room. And with nothing in particular to do, Jungkook took to the discarded papers by the side. And with the simple pen in his hand, he lost himself in time for hours at end until eventually, Jungkook looked up to find the darkly-lit room empty. The evening sun had just dipped beyond the horizon, leaving the walls grey and cold.

Oh, Jimin had left too.

Had the other talked to him before taking leave? Or had he just left? Or had Jungkook just dismissed his presence, forcing him to leave?

As another round of thoughts overfilled his head, he was quickly pulled out of it as Hoseok and Yoongi entered the room. Hoseok looked pensive, not quite like Seokjin, but shaken enough to know that Miyeon had said something more. And that was always bad news.

Meanwhile, Yoongi looked more pleased with himself, as if he had accomplished a major goal.

“What happened?”
Jungkook mouthed those words before his brain could catch up.

“I need all of us to be here for that. I can’t…I don’t think I can repeat it more than once.”
Hoseok replied, his eyes meeting anywhere but Jungkook’s.

And when the night rolled in, all six of them gathered in that room, the truth of Miyeon’s expectations and threats finally rolled out, far overdue looking at how she had been so unrealistically sweet. 

The words poured out, fast and unyielding. Like hot lava that burned and solidified on every inch of the earth. And all they could do was stare at the predicament ahead. 

“Miyeon will be back in two days and she wants us to make Taehyung speak. Of what, I’m not sure. But, she needs him to give up his resolve and break into admittance of joining the gang. Else, it'll be the end of him and us.”

There were indignant shouts of how unfair it was, of how it was never to be their fight, of how she was a scheming cruel witch. 

“She said something else. Subtly ordered that we be careful of where we're dipping our toes and may it not be late before the consequences catch up to us. Her voice was scary, as if she had given up on all the resolutions of being human. She meant that.”

“What did she say regarding the 18th?”

Yoongi’s words made everyone snap their heads to him, an unexpected question in the whole ordeal. 

“I didn't hear anything about that from her. But her minions muttered of how she was planning to ambush Yang at that destination. Said it was revenge for the lowly electricity outrage trick pulled last week. I fear she won't let us go that easily. She has struck a pot of gold with us and Taehyung.”

“Meaning she will make the best use of our presence.”
Jimin added, eyes dropped low.

“So what is the plan?”
Seokjin asked, after a minute of silence. 

None of them dared to open their mouths, given how none of the words could fix this situation. 

Sure, the words weren’t new, they had been uttered over and over by Miyeon but this somehow felt more intimidating, like it was real enough that they ought to be vigilant even in their sleep, for she had the capability and ruthlessness to strike any time she found fit.

“We need to leave.”
Yoongi’s words were sharp and strong.

Jungkook whipped his head over again, almost instantly. Just enough to cause a crack if he was any more sharper. But, Yoongi was calm, looking at the carpet below his feet. 

“What do you mean?”
Seokjin asked, eyebrows furrowed at Yoongi.

“We need to leave. As simple as that. We can’t stay here. We need to run, just like how we had when we first started our relationship.”

Yoongi’s words didn’t seem to pacify them or give any clue as to the confusion of how they would even think of pulling it off. 

“Wait, you are serious?”
Hoseok asked, eyes gleaming bright as a maniac laugh burst out of him.

“Yoongi. Are you even hearing yourself?”

“I am. And I am confident of it.”

“Sure, with you disappearing in bouts every day and the long lost fantasy of us escaping this hellhole.”

“I mean it. We need to leave. There’s no way she won’t catch up on us one day or another. Today, Taehyung's life is on the hook and maybe tomorrow, she finds something else. There’s no way you believe that she won’t hold us back despite doing as she tells us, right?”
Yoongi asked, eyes wide in surprise that Hoseok, of all people, being the one to resist.

“Of course, I know that. When we escaped three years ago, we were young and fresh. Not a lot on stake to keep us either so they let us go. But this, this…is not the same. She wants us. You really think we can pull off a whole escape like that. We are seven, and that’s too many people for a plan that’s supposed to work in two days. How will that work?”

“We are seven, meaning it’s even easier to escape. Please, Hoseok-ah, you need to trust me. I would never risk your lives. Ever. We need to leave before she comes and I know we can do it please.”

No one commented on the use of seven in both of their statements, as if they had already established that they were indeed seven— Taehyung a part of them forever.

They were seven, even if they hadn’t explicitly worked it out or even admitted it, but the word was out and Yoongi would do everything to keep them safe, away from Miyeon’s measly hands.