Cold Case ( ) Jeon Jungkook ()

cold case (미제 사건) — jeon jungkook (전정국)

✧.* 18+

in the quiet corridors of human thought, where shadows of philosophy and whispers of tradition intertwined, the concept of morality unfurled its intricate tapestry. once upon a time, in a world where the lines between right and wrong were delicately drawn by the hand of experience and belief, morality was more than a mere guide—it was a compass that directed the course of lives and shaped the destiny of societies.

in those days, moral philosophy emerged from the depths of contemplation, offering varied paths to discern the essence of good and evil. deontologists spoke of duty with a voice as steady as the unchanging stars, insisting that some actions were inherently right or wrong, irrespective of their outcomes. their moral landscape was marked by rules that stood like ancient pillars, unyielding in their presence. conversely, the consequentialists wandered a different terrain, where the terrain shifted with the tides of outcomes. to them, the morality of an action was painted by its results—an act was judged by whether it brought more happiness or less suffering. their ethics were a canvas of effects, where the final strokes determined the worth of every action.

in the gentle light of introspection, morality revealed itself as a complex and beautiful mosaic, guiding humanity through the labyrinth of life with wisdom and grace. each ethical theory, each moral rule, and each personal conviction contributed to a grand symphony of understanding, where the quest for distinguishing right from wrong continued to unfold with every choice and every action.

in the labyrinthine corridors of your childhood memories, the distinction between right and wrong was not always clear. as a young girl, you had often seen glimpses of your parents' secret lives—furtive conversations, hidden compartments in the house, and the occasional visitor who spoke in hushed tones. to you, these were nothing more than the quirks of a family that had its own peculiar ways. in your innocent eyes, every family had its secrets, and the clandestine nature of your parents' actions seemed like just another part of growing up.

you remembered vividly the sound of your parents' laughter echoing through the house, mingling with the clink of glasses and the rustling of crisp banknotes. it was a symphony of the life they led, a life that seemed vibrant and exciting. they spoke to you with a tenderness that belied the shadows lurking behind their smiles. their love for you was palpable, a warm embrace that seemed to protect you from the world’s harsher truths.

but as the years passed, the veil of innocence began to lift. the truth of your parents' double life slowly came into focus, revealing a stark reality. you learned that their involvement in the underground world of crime was not just a secret hobby but a consuming passion that eclipsed everything else. their love for you, though genuine, was overshadowed by their relentless pursuit of wealth and power. this pursuit, once cloaked in the guise of providing a better future, had ultimately led to their downfall.

as you sat alone in your room, you came across a broken-framed photograph of the three of you. the glass was cracked, and the edges of the frame were chipped, but the image within was still clear—a snapshot of a happier time. staring at that photograph, the weight of realization settled upon you like a shroud. you understood now that your parents' lives, while filled with moments of love and joy, were tainted by choices that led to their tragic end. their death was not a result of fate but of their unbridled greed and the dark paths they chose to walk.

it was in that moment of clarity, as you gazed at the broken photograph, that you fully comprehended the difference between right and wrong. the realization that their love was marred by their actions ignited a determination within you. you knew that the path you needed to take was one of integrity, justice, and righteousness. the shadows of your parents' lives would not define you; instead, you would forge a new legacy rooted in moral clarity and purpose.

determined to make a difference, you entered the police academy with a fierce resolve. the years spent there were a rigorous testament to your commitment. each day began before dawn, with physical training that tested your endurance and mental fortitude. the discipline of early mornings and grueling exercises sculpted your body and mind, preparing you for the challenges ahead.

in the classroom, you delved into the complexities of law and ethics, dissecting case studies and engaging in intense debates. your instructors imparted the knowledge and skills necessary to uphold justice, and you absorbed every lesson with a thirst for understanding. the theoretical aspects of criminal justice were balanced with practical exercises, where you simulated real-world scenarios, honing your investigative techniques and decision-making abilities. your fellow cadets became like family, bound together by shared struggles and aspirations. you formed lasting friendships forged in the fires of late-night study sessions and joint drills. the camaraderie was a source of strength and motivation, driving you to excel in both academics and fieldwork.

the graduation day arrived, a culmination of years of hard work and dedication. as you stood among your fellow graduates, clad in the uniform you had earned, the weight of the journey you had undertaken was both heavy and exhilarating. when your captain approached to congratulate the graduating class, you felt a surge of pride and accomplishment. each salute you offered was a testament to your commitment to justice, a silent vow to uphold the values you had come to cherish.

you knew exactly what you wanted to do with your newfound authority. your goal was to bring about the change you had envisioned—to be a beacon of hope in the complex, often shadowy world of law enforcement. the lessons learned from your past and the discipline honed in the academy had prepared you for the challenges that lay ahead. as you embarked on your journey as an officer, you carried with you the resolve to honor the ideals of justice and integrity, ensuring that your path would remain unwaveringly true.

as you stepped into the office for the first time, the familiar hum of activity greeted you. the room was bustling with the usual office clamor—phones ringing, papers rustling, and the murmurs of conversations. but as you approached your designated desk, a sense of unease quickly replaced your initial excitement.

your desk was positioned at the periphery of the room, a seemingly innocuous spot that did little to shield you from the stares of your new colleagues. the glances you received were not of welcome but of scrutinizing appraisal. the men who filled the office cast lingering, dismissive looks in your direction, their eyes saying more than their words ever could. it was clear that they were sizing you up, judging you not by your skills or qualifications but by your gender.

you didn't need to be an officer or possess any special insight to understand their thoughts. it was painfully evident that they underestimated you, their eyes reflecting a blend of skepticism and condescension. you loathed it, this patronizing attitude that seemed to seep through every glance and smirk. but you had learned long ago how to navigate such disdain. you knew that you were more than just flesh and blood, more than just a woman in a male-dominated field. you were a dedicated officer, and you refused to let their prejudices define you.

your resolve was tested almost immediately. a voice broke through the din of the office, sharp and mocking. “i sure hope you’re here to make us lunch,” one of the male officers said, his tone dripping with derision. his colleagues erupted into laughter, their mirth a jarring reminder of the chauvinistic attitudes that plagued your new workplace.

you didn’t flinch. instead, you fixed him with a steely gaze and replied, “i sure hope you’re okay with getting your ass beat.” the words were barely out of your mouth before you grabbed your stapler and, with a swift motion, hurled it towards him. it flew through the air with a precision that spoke volumes of your frustration and resolve.

the stapler struck him squarely on the side of his head. the room fell into stunned silence, broken only by the thud of the stapler hitting the floor. the officer, his face a mixture of shock and anger, glared at you. “you bitch,” he spat, advancing toward you with a menacing stride. but before he could reach you, an authoritative voice cut through the tension.

“it’s your first day, and you’re already asking to get fired.” you turned to see jeon jungkook standing in the doorway, his presence commanding immediate attention. his uniform was impeccably neat, his posture rigid, and his expression a mask of stern professionalism. jungkook’s eyes, cold and assessing, swept over the room before settling on the offending officer. “you’re no better,” he said, his voice carrying a sharp edge. “you’re lucky she didn’t crack your head open.” his gaze lingered for a moment longer, an unspoken warning hanging in the air, before he turned and left the room with a decisive click of the door.

the moment jungkook departed, you felt the weight of his words and the chill of his gaze. it was clear that he was not just any superior officer but someone who commanded respect through his unwavering dedication and strict demeanor. his reprimand had carried with it an authority that seemed to freeze the air in the room. you turned back to your desk, the echoes of the confrontation still reverberating in your mind. the office had returned to its usual clamor, but the atmosphere had shifted. the mocking glances had lessened, replaced by a wary respect that had not been there before. you were already making a mark, even on your first day, and you knew that the path ahead would be paved with both challenges and triumphs.

sitting down at your desk, you took a deep breath and began to organize your workspace. the clutter of papers and office supplies seemed to reflect the chaos of the morning, but you approached it with a sense of purpose. this was your domain now, and you were determined to make it your own. as you set about your tasks, you could feel the weight of the day’s events pressing upon you, but you remained resolute.

as you settled into your new role, the mountain of files and papers that awaited you seemed both daunting and strangely familiar. each document was a piece of the complex puzzle you were about to dive into, and you approached it with the meticulous attention to detail that had characterized your training. the room was a mosaic of activity, but your focus was anchored firmly on the paperwork before you. you organized the files into neat stacks, sorting through reports, case files, and memos with practiced efficiency. the air was filled with the rustle of paper and the occasional distant hum of conversation, a backdrop to your focused efforts. the scent of ink and paper was oddly comforting, a reminder of the countless hours you had spent in the academy honing your skills.

as you concentrated on cross-referencing details and updating case notes, you heard a voice break through the monotony. “don’t think too much about these assholes,” the voice said, warm and comforting despite the brashness of the comment.

you looked up from your work to see a man sitting across the room, his demeanor casual yet friendly. he had an easygoing smile that seemed to disarm the tension lingering in the office. you couldn’t help but scoff lightly. “i wasn’t planning to,” you replied, your tone carrying a hint of defiance.

the man’s smile widened, and he leaned back in his chair, exuding an air of easy confidence. “you’ve got a lot of patience,” he said, his tone genuinely admiring. “i’m jung hoseok, by the way.”

recognition flickered in your mind as you realized that hoseok was one of the cadets from the academy. you nodded with a smile. “i remember you. congratulations on graduating,” you said, your voice carrying the warmth of sincere admiration.

hoseok’s smile grew even broader. “thanks. and congratulations to you too. i’ve heard you’ve made quite an impression already.” you felt a wave of relief wash over you. amidst the zoo of office dynamics, it was refreshing to encounter someone who seemed genuinely kind and approachable. his presence was a welcome contrast to the hostile undercurrents you had faced earlier.

he leaned forward slightly, lowering his voice as though sharing a secret. “but i should warn you about jungkook.” you raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “why?” you asked, your tone curious but wary.

hoseok hesitated for a moment, his eyes flicking towards the door as if ensuring no one else could overhear. “nothing is more important to jungkook than work itself,” he said finally, his voice tinged with a note of caution. you shrugged slightly, considering his words. “there’s nothing wrong with being dedicated to your work,” you replied, trying to maintain an open mind.

hia expression grew serious, and he continued, “it’s not just dedication. there’s not a line jungkook won’t cross to get his work done.” his gaze met yours with a gravity that underscored the seriousness of his warning. you let his words sink in, the implication clear. jungkook’s dedication to his work was not merely a matter of professional pride but a driving force that could lead to unpredictable and potentially dangerous decisions. the silence that followed was heavy with contemplation. you considered the balance between dedication and ethics, between doing what was necessary and adhering to the principles that guided you.

hoseok’s warning lingered in your thoughts as you returned to your desk, your mind processing the implications of his words. the office buzzed around you, the normalcy of daily tasks juxtaposed against the undercurrents of tension and intrigue that marked your new environment. with a renewed sense of resolve, you continued with your work, aware of the complexities that lay ahead.

the evening air was crisp as you stepped out of the office building, eager for a moment of respite. the fading sunlight cast long shadows, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange, and you welcomed the solitude as you approached your parked car. the comforting solitude of the parking lot offered a temporary escape from the whirlwind of office life, and you relished the chance to smoke in peace. you leaned against the cool metal of your car, pulling a cigarette from your pack with practiced ease. as you lit it and took your first drag, you glanced around, appreciating the brief silence that enveloped you. the soft crackle of the cigarette was a small solace amidst the hustle and bustle of your new role.

out of the corner of your eye, you caught a fleeting movement on the other side of the lot. you turned slightly to see jungkook, standing in the dimming light, lighting his own cigarette. the briefest of glances met your eyes before you quickly looked away, preferring the sanctuary of silence over the potential for awkward conversation. the distance between you was too great for meaningful exchange, and you were content to let the moment pass in unspoken acknowledgment.

you focused on your car, stepping forward to retrieve some files you had left on the seat. the familiar motion of opening the door and reaching inside provided a momentary distraction from the day's earlier events. with a sigh of relief, you closed the door, cigarette still perched between your lips. as you straightened, you looked up to see an unfamiliar man standing a few feet away, his gaze fixed on you with an unsettling intensity.

the man’s presence was jarring, his smirk exuding an air of menace. his eyes lingered on the sleek lines of your car with an almost predatory curiosity. “nice ride,” he said, his voice smooth but laced with a threatening undertone. “mind if i take it for a spin?”

you didn’t react immediately, maintaining a calm exterior as your eyes scanned his demeanor. his hand shifted to lift the side of his jacket, revealing a gun holstered at his hip. the glint of metal caught the waning light, a stark reminder of the danger he posed.

with a deliberate motion, you extinguished your cigarette, dropping it to the pavement and crushing it underfoot. the decision to act swiftly and decisively was driven by instinct and training. you pivoted toward the man, your movements fluid and practiced, and closed the distance between you. before he could react fully, you grabbed him by the collar and swung him against the side of your car. the impact was jarring, and he grunted in surprise as you pressed him firmly against the vehicle. your hands were steady as you reached for your cuffs, securing them around his wrists with a practiced efficiency.

as you tightened the cuffs, you leaned in close, your breath warm against his ear. “i think i’m gonna take you for a spin first,” you whispered, your voice carrying a cold, authoritative edge. his initial shock turned into a flurry of thrashing and resistance, but your grip remained firm. you guided him with practiced control, maneuvering him through the parking lot toward the station. the scuffle drew the attention of a few passersby, but you paid them little mind, your focus solely on your captive and the path ahead.

throughout the entire ordeal, you felt jungkook’s eyes on you, a piercing gaze that never wavered. even as you moved with the man in tow, you could sense his silent observation, the intensity of his scrutiny adding an additional layer of pressure. his presence was like a constant shadow, a reminder of the complex dynamics at play within this new world you had entered.

you maneuvered the man roughly into one of the holding cells, the metal door slamming shut with a resonant clang. the cell’s interior was stark, illuminated by the harsh, flickering light of a single bulb. the man’s protests filled the space, his shouts echoing off the concrete walls as he struggled against the cuffs. his anger and frustration were palpable, but you remained unmoved, your expression cool and detached as you observed him from outside the cell.

just then, the chief of the station strode into the area, his presence commanding immediate attention. his eyes narrowed as he took in the scene before him, and he paused, clearly surprised by the commotion. “what’s going on here?” he demanded, his voice carrying an authoritative edge.

you took a steadying breath, maintaining your composure as you explained the situation. “this man attempted to steal my car. he displayed a firearm, so i subdued him and brought him in.” you handed over the wrapped gun, its weight feeling significant in your hands. the tissue was slightly damp from handling, but you had wrapped it with care to avoid any fingerprints.

the chief’s eyebrows shot up in shock as he unwrapped the gun, his anger visibly rising. he turned to face the man, his voice now tinged with a harsh edge. “you’re in for a treat. you’ve got some nerve pulling this shit,” the chief’s gaze then shifted back to you, his expression softening into an approving smile. “i’ve got to hand it to you. it’s your first day, and you’ve already brought in a real asshole. not a bad start.”

a moment later, jungkook appeared, his tall frame cutting an imposing figure as he entered the room. his eyes flickered toward you briefly, registering your presence before he moved past. his gaze was focused and impassive, and his silence spoke volumes about his reserved nature.

you couldn’t resist the urge to address him, a trace of sarcasm slipping into your voice as you said, “thanks for the hand. so much for a dedicated officer.” jungkook paused for a split second, his head turning slightly to acknowledge your comment. his expression remained stoic, but his response was measured and direct. “looked like you had it under control,” he said simply before continuing on his way.

the brief exchange left a lingering tension in the air. you couldn’t deny the sting of his dismissive tone, but you also recognized the unspoken acknowledgment of your capability. it was a subtle reminder that while his focus was unwavering and his dedication to his work was undeniable, his interactions were often laced with a cool, distant demeanor.

the bar was dimly lit, with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses providing a comforting backdrop to the evening. the warm amber glow from the hanging lights cast a soft sheen over the polished wooden bar and the array of bottles that lined the shelves. you found a quiet corner, where the atmosphere felt more intimate, allowing you to unwind from the day's events.

hoseok was already there, sitting at the bar with a relaxed demeanor that contrasted sharply with the tension of the office. as you slid into the seat next to him, he greeted you with a warm smile and a nod. his presence seemed to exude a sense of calm, a welcome reprieve from the rigid formality of the police station.

he gestured to the bartender, who promptly set a cold beer before you. the chilled glass felt good in your hand, and you took a long sip, savoring the cool, crisp flavor. hoseok leaned back, his posture casual yet attentive as he regarded you with a look of genuine interest.

“so,” he began, his voice smooth and easygoing, “congratulations on your first day. not many rookies can say they’ve brought someone in so quickly. that’s impressive.”

you nodded, appreciative of his acknowledgment. “thanks, hoseok. it was a rough start, but it feels good to have made a difference.” he took a sip from his own glass, the beer foaming slightly as he did. “you handled it well,” he continued. “but there are a few people you should keep an eye on. jungkook might be dedicated, but he’s also known for pushing boundaries to get results. and then there’s the hierarchy in the department—some are more concerned with climbing the ranks than with actual justice.”

you listened carefully, absorbing his advice. the insights he shared painted a clearer picture of the dynamics at play within the precinct. “i appreciate the heads-up,” you said. “it’s good to know who i might need to watch out for.”

his expression softened as he looked at you, his gaze reassuring. “just remember to stay true to yourself. the job can be tough, but it’s important to keep your integrity intact. you’ve got the right spirit, and that’s what counts.” you took another sip of your beer, letting the conversation drift into the background as you allowed yourself a moment to relax. the atmosphere of the bar, combined with hoseok’s easy presence, created a sense of respite that you hadn’t realized you needed so badly.

as the evening wore on, the conversation flowed naturally. hoseok spoke of his experiences, sharing anecdotes that brought a smile to your face. his storytelling was engaging, his voice rich with warmth and humor. there was an ease to his presence that made you feel at ease, a soothing balm for the frayed nerves of your first day.

when the time came to leave, he offered to walk you home. you accepted his offer with a grateful nod, appreciating the gesture. the night air was cool and crisp as you stepped outside, and the city’s lights cast a soft glow on the streets. hoseok’s company made the walk pleasant, his presence a comforting contrast to the challenges you had faced earlier.

as you made your way through the quiet streets, the conversation between you continued in a relaxed manner. his insights into the precinct and his easy demeanor made the walk enjoyable, a soothing end to a long day. the distance to your home felt shorter with his company, and you found yourself feeling more at ease with each step.

when you finally reached your front door, hoseok gave you a friendly smile. “well, this is where i leave you,” he said. “rest up. tomorrow’s another day, and i’m sure you’ll handle it just as well.” you thanked him sincerely, appreciating the support and camaraderie he had shown. as you watched him walk away, you felt a renewed sense of confidence. the night had provided a welcome break, and his presence had been a reminder that even in the most demanding of jobs, there were people who understood and offered genuine support.

the next morning, the precinct was a whirlwind of activity. papers were shuffled with frantic energy, phones rang incessantly, and officers moved briskly from one task to another. you found yourself buried under a mountain of paperwork, the endless stream of files and reports stacking up around you. your desk was a battleground of yellowed manila folders and scattered notes, each one demanding your attention.

just as you were deeply engrossed in sorting through a particularly complex file, the office door swung open. the chief entered, flanked by jungkook, whose presence immediately commanded attention. the room fell silent as the chief’s authoritative voice cut through the hum of activity. “everyone, give me your attention,” he announced.

you looked up, your gaze shifting to the chief and jungkook as they made their way toward your desk. the chief’s expression was serious, a hint of urgency in his eyes. he gestured for you and jungkook to follow him, and you both rose from your seats, curiosity piqued. the chief led you to his office, the atmosphere charged with a palpable sense of anticipation. once inside, he motioned for you and jungkook to take a seat across from his desk. he settled into his chair, his demeanor reflecting the gravity of the matter at hand.

as he opened a file, the chief began, “we’ve got a major case on our hands. this involves an underground mafia organization that’s been wreaking havoc across the city. their activities include drug trafficking, illegal gambling, and a number of violent crimes. we’ve managed to gather some intel, but we’re still missing key pieces.”

the chief’s words painted a grim picture of the criminal underworld, his tone laced with both frustration and determination. he detailed the mafia’s operations, their influence on various sectors, and their notorious ability to evade capture. the room was thick with tension as he laid out the scope of the problem.

“there’s a lot at stake here,” he continued, “and i need the best team on this. that’s why i’m assigning you both to this case. you’ll be working together to infiltrate the organization.”

jungkook’s expression shifted to one of discontent. he scoffed, his tone dripping with skepticism. “you want me to work on a cold case with a rookie?” the challenge in his voice was unmistakable, and the air grew taut with his disdain. you met his gaze head-on, refusing to be intimidated. “the case just might freeze if you’re the one on it,” you retorted sharply, your voice steady despite the tension.

jungkook’s eyes narrowed, ready to launch a rebuttal, but the chief intervened. “that’s enough,” he said firmly. “jungkook’s experience combined with your determination makes for a strong team. i’m confident that you both can handle this.”

turning his attention to you, the chief continued, “here’s what i have in mind: you two will go undercover as a couple. it’s a risky move, but it’s the best way to gain their trust and get the intel we need.”

the suggestion hit you like a cold wave. the thought of pretending to be involved in a relationship, with all the implications it carried, brought a flash of painful memories. you saw the ghostly image of your parents—their criminal entanglements, the secrets they harbored, and the tragic end that had defined your life. the prospect of immersing yourself in a false identity stirred up feelings of unease and internal conflict.

jungkook seemed to sense your hesitation but maintained his professional demeanor. he simply nodded in reluctant agreement, his eyes briefly meeting yours. “fine,” he said, “but let’s make this clear—don’t fuck it up.”

the chief, satisfied with your acceptance, stood and dismissed you. “get prepared,” he said, “we’ll need to move quickly. i expect updates as soon as you have them.” as he left the office, the weight of the situation settled heavily on your shoulders. the task ahead was daunting, the stakes high, and the personal cost considerable. jungkook’s parting words echoed in your mind as he walked away, leaving you with a renewed sense of purpose mixed with a lingering apprehension.

the sun had begun to dip below the horizon when you and jungkook convened in the small, windowless meeting room of the precinct. the walls were lined with whiteboards scrawled with notes and diagrams, evidence of the case you were about to dive into. the room was bathed in the cold glow of fluorescent lights, casting a sterile, almost clinical ambiance that seemed to fit the seriousness of the task ahead.

he had already spread out a series of case files and photographs on the long conference table. you approached, pulling out the chair opposite him and taking a seat. as you glanced over the materials, the weight of the operation settled in. the mafia’s structure, their operations, key players—every detail was crucial.

“alright, let’s start with the basics,” you said, flipping open a file. “we need to understand their hierarchy and get close enough to gather intel.” jungkook nodded, but his eyes betrayed a hint of impatience. “we know that already. the real question is how we’re going to get in. we need to build trust, but we have to be careful not to blow our cover.”

you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “we’ve gone over this. we need to present ourselves as a couple who’s looking to get involved in their operations. it’s a risky move, but it’s our best shot.” jungkook leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on the papers. “so, we’re just supposed to show up, act like we’re madly in love, and hope they let us in? it’s not that simple.”

the frustration in his voice was evident, and you couldn’t help but snap back. “well, if you have a better plan, i’m all ears. otherwise, we’re going with this.” his face darkened, his eyes narrowing as he responded sharply, “this isn’t gonna work if we can’t even pretend to like each other. you need to hate me a little less, or this whole thing is a waste of time.”

you raised an eyebrow, caught off guard by his candor. “what do you mean, ‘hate you’? i don’t hate you.” his expression was a mix of surprise and annoyance. “everyone here either hates me or fears me. i’ve never met anyone who didn’t feel one of those things.”

you met his gaze firmly, your voice steady. “i have nothing to hate or be afraid of. i’m here to do a job, and that’s what matters.”

at your words, jungkook’s surprise shifted into something else—an unexpected, almost unsettling smile. it was brief but intense, revealing a glimpse of vulnerability beneath his hardened exterior. you felt a shiver run down your spine, unsure of how to respond to the change in his demeanor.

clearing your throat, you forced yourself to refocus on the case. “so, let’s get back to it. how do we manage to get into their inner circle without raising suspicions?”

jungkook straightened, his professional mask back in place. “we need to establish a story that’s believable. if we’re going in as a couple, we need to make it convincing. they’ll want to see that we’re genuinely interested in their operations, not just posing for the sake of an investigation.”

you nodded, absorbing his words. “right. we should start by researching the specific events they’re involved in. we need to find a way to approach them as potential investors or partners, something that makes us valuable to their operations.”

jungkook flipped through the files, pointing to a set of documents. “these are some of their recent deals and contacts. we can use this information to craft our backstory. maybe we should focus on a particular aspect of their business, like their money laundering operations. it’s a sensitive topic for them, and showing interest could get us closer.”

you leaned in, examining the documents he highlighted. “that makes sense. if we can convince them we’re serious about investing or collaborating, it might give us the leverage we need.” his gaze softened slightly, though his demeanor remained businesslike. “we should also work on our cover story—something that feels authentic. it has to be detailed enough to withstand scrutiny, but flexible enough to adapt as needed.”

as the conversation continued, the tension between you seemed to ebb and flow. the earlier friction had given way to a more collaborative atmosphere, though jungkook’s sharpness remained. the plan was forming, piece by piece, and despite the challenges, you felt a cautious optimism about the direction you were heading.

the room filled with the sound of shuffling papers and the occasional murmur of discussion as you both delved deeper into the case. it was clear that working together would be fraught with difficulties, but there was a shared sense of purpose driving you forward. as you finalized the details of your plan, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this partnership, however strained, would be pivotal to the success of the mission. with his experience and your determination, there was hope that you could navigate the treacherous waters of the criminal underworld and come out on the other side.

the two of you entered the chief’s office, the space exuding authority with its polished mahogany desk and high-backed leather chairs. the chief sat behind his desk, reviewing papers with a concentration that was almost palpable. his eyes flickered up as you and jungkook approached, and he gestured for you both to take a seat.

“so,” the chief began, his tone commanding, “what have you come up with?”

you cleared your throat, your nerves barely hidden behind a facade of calm professionalism. “we’ve reviewed the case files and cross-referenced them with known locations and events. it turns out some of the suspects frequently visit a particular club. our plan is to use that as our entry point. we’ll attend the club, make ourselves noticeable, and try to attract their attention.”

the chief raised an eyebrow, a hint of surprise crossing his features. “you seem quite familiar with this kind of operation. is that experience talking?”

the question struck a chord deep within you. you stiffened, feeling a sudden weight on your chest. memories of your parents—of their life entangled in crime and the fatal consequences of their choices—flooded your mind. you clenched your fists in your lap, struggling to maintain your composure. the weight of their actions and their ultimate fate bore down on you, leaving you speechless.

jungkook, sensing the tension, cleared his throat and turned to the chief. “so, is the plan good to go?” the chief nodded, still looking slightly taken aback. “yes, it’s approved. make sure you follow through meticulously.”

as you and jungkook prepared to leave the office, he leaned closer, his voice low. “the chief has a point. you seem to know a lot about these operations. it’s almost as if you’ve had firsthand experience.” you stopped in your tracks, the words hitting you harder than you expected. your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt a deep, uncomfortable twist in your stomach. jungkook’s observation was unsettlingly accurate, and you knew it was time to confront the shadows of your past.

turning to face him, you took a steadying breath. “i do have experience. my parents were involved in the underworld—running illegal operations, managing deals. they were deeply entrenched in the criminal world.”

jungkook’s eyes widened, a mixture of shock and disbelief crossing his face. you continued, your voice steady but tinged with an emotional edge, “they were consumed by their greed, and it ultimately led to their deaths. i wanted to distance myself from their life and prove that i could be more than just their legacy. that’s why i became a police officer—to fight against the kind of world they lived in.” he remained silent, his expression a complex blend of empathy and confusion. his eyes met yours, but he didn’t speak, as if searching for the right words or grappling with his own thoughts.

you felt the weight of his gaze and the burden of your past crashing down on you. with a final, lingering look, you turned and walked out of the chief’s office. each step you took echoed with the heaviness of your confession and the turmoil of your memories. you left jungkook behind, the silence between you now filled with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

that night, you prepared for the assignment with an unease that settled deep in your bones. the weight of your decision pressed heavily on your shoulders as you stared at yourself in the mirror. the apartment was filled with the cloying scent of perfume and the electric hum of makeup lights, casting a harsh glow that accentuated your tense expression.

you began the transformation, each movement deliberate and filled with a mix of apprehension and resolve. you started with your makeup, applying heavier layers than usual. the foundation was thick and flawless, masking the fatigue in your skin. you carefully blended eyeshadow into dark, sultry hues, drawing attention to your eyes with dramatic eyeliner. the lipstick you chose was a deep, daring red—an assertive statement you were determined to make.

next came the dress—a silver sheath that clung to your figure, sparkling under the dim lights of your bathroom. it was revealing, designed to captivate and command attention. the fabric felt cool and alien against your skin, every movement making the dress shimmer with a deceptive allure. you slipped on the matching high heels, their sharp, stiletto heels adding an extra edge to your demeanor.

as you looked at your reflection, you felt a pang of disconnection. the person staring back at you was a stranger, adorned in clothes that seemed to represent everything you weren’t—a stark contrast to your true self. the glamorous exterior was a necessary facade for the job, but it felt like a mask, concealing your true identity beneath layers of artifice. despite the discomfort, you steeled yourself. You had a mission to complete, and no amount of emotional turmoil would deter you.

the sound of a car horn honking outside shattered your thoughts, pulling you from your introspection. you took a deep breath and exited your apartment, the cold night air meeting you as you stepped out. there, beside his car, was jungkook.

when his eyes landed on you, they widened in shock, clearly taken aback by your transformation. his gaze swept over you with a mixture of surprise and admiration. you felt a blush of self-consciousness as you met his eyes, his reaction a silent commentary on how different you looked. despite the initial shock, there was a flicker of appreciation in his eyes—an acknowledgment of your effort.

you, too, were momentarily stunned by jungkook’s appearance. he stood beside his sleek car, dressed impeccably in a tailored suit that accentuated his strong frame. his look was polished and sophisticated, contrasting sharply with your own provocative attire. the suit was a deep navy, with a crisp white shirt and a tie that added a touch of elegance to his ensemble. he looked every bit the part of a man who belonged in high society, and his presence was both reassuring and intimidating.

clearing your throat to mask your surprise, you asked, “are we good to go?” his expression softened slightly, and he nodded. “yes, we’re ready. let’s get going.”

he opened the car door for you with a chivalrous gesture, the smooth motion of the handle a stark contrast to the tension you felt. you slid into the car, the interior’s plush comfort a brief reprieve from the stress. jungkook closed the door behind you and took his place in the driver’s seat, the engine rumbling to life as he navigated the streets towards the club. as the car glided through the night, you could not shake the feeling of being on the edge of something profound. the club’s lights were already visible in the distance, casting a neon glow against the night sky. you glanced at jungkook, noting his focused expression and the way he gripped the steering wheel.

the car rolled to a smooth stop outside the club, and as the engine’s hum faded, the scene before you emerged from the darkness. the club was a sprawling edifice of neon lights and shadowy corners, its façade a patchwork of flickering signs and half-hidden windows. the sign above the entrance, flashing in an intermittent crimson glow, read “la lune” in bold, cursive script. the letters seemed to pulse with a rhythm that matched the bass-heavy thrum of music escaping from within.

jungkook glanced at you, his eyes betraying a hint of concern masked by his usual stoic demeanor. “are you ready?” you nodded, forcing a confident smile. “let’s do this.”

with that, you stepped out of the car and made your way to the entrance. jungkook gave you a curt nod before heading off to blend into the shadows, his own role in this operation beginning in earnest. the club’s bouncers gave you a cursory glance, their eyes barely flicking over you as they were more focused on the stream of patrons entering and exiting. you walked through the velvet-draped doorway and into the dimly lit interior, where the scent of smoke, alcohol, and perfume mingled in the air.

the club’s interior was a labyrinth of opulence and decadence. low, plush couches with black leather upholstery lined the walls, each surrounding low tables adorned with empty glasses and half-eaten plates of food. crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, their multi-colored lights casting an otherworldly glow over the patrons. the dance floor was a pulsing sea of bodies, the crowd moving in a hypnotic rhythm to the pounding beat of the music that reverberated through the space. the walls were adorned with dark, abstract art that seemed to shift and swirl with the ever-changing lights.

you approached the bar, ordering a drink to help steady your nerves. the bartender, a burly man with a face that seemed permanently set in a scowl, slid a glass of something strong and smoky towards you. you took a deep sip, feeling the warmth spread through you as the liquor began to dull your apprehensions.

as you sipped your drink, you kept a watchful eye on the crowd. it wasn’t long before you noticed a group of men—shady and well-dressed—making their way to a semi-private area cordoned off by an almost transparent curtain. they moved with a sense of purpose, their body language exuding an air of authority and secrecy. Intrigued, you decided to follow.

the curtain parted slightly as you approached, and you slipped behind it, careful not to make any noise. you found yourself in a small, dimly lit room, sparsely furnished with a few plush chairs and a single pole set in the center. the men were gathered around, their conversation low but intense.

one of them, a man with slicked-back hair and an air of casual arrogance, noticed your presence. his gaze flicked over you with a mixture of surprise and interest. “if you’re as pretty as you seem, step out for us,” he said, his voice smooth but with a hint of condescension.

with a flick of your wrist, you let the curtain fall back and stepped into the room, the soft glow of the lights highlighting your silhouette. you walked confidently to the center of the room, where the men’s eyes were fixed on you. a smirk played on your lips as you adopted a flirtatious stance, feeling the weight of their gazes like a tangible pressure.

“good evening, gentlemen,” you purred, your voice dripping with charm as you approached them. you could feel the air shift as their attention intensified, their interest piqued by your boldness. one of the men, seated comfortably in a chair with an air of superiority, raised an eyebrow. “care to put on a show for us?” he asked, gesturing toward the pole.

you raised an eyebrow in response, a playful glint in your eye. “if that’s what you’d like,” you said, moving toward the pole with a graceful, deliberate sway.

you began to dance, your movements fluid and mesmerizing. you wrapped your body around the pole, performing with a practiced ease that drew appreciative murmurs from the men. the room was filled with the sound of your high heels clicking on the polished floor and the soft, rhythmic rustle of your dress. when you finished, you stepped away from the pole and approached the man who had made the initial request. you perched yourself on his lap, feeling his warm breath against your neck as you leaned in close. his hands instinctively went to your waist, and you let him savor the moment as he praised you with an approving nod.

“she’s a gem, isn’t she?” a voice said from behind you. both you and the man turned to see jungkook stepping out from the shadows, a cigarette lazily hanging from his lips. the sudden appearance of him, dressed in a sharp suit, added an unexpected layer to the encounter. the man’s eyes narrowed with curiosity as he regarded him. “and who might you be?” he asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

jungkook exhaled a plume of smoke and took a seat on an empty couch, his posture relaxed but his eyes sharp. “min woobin,” he said, gesturing to you with a casual wave. “this is my girlfriend, lee rachel.”

you leaned closer to the man, your breath hot against his ear. “it’s a pleasure to meet you,” you whispered, your voice low and sultry. the man’s demeanor softened slightly, and he seemed genuinely intrigued. “so, what brings you both here?” he asked, his eyes flickering between you and jungkook.

jungkook took a slow drag from his cigarette before responding. “we’re here to do business. i’ve heard quite a bit about your operations, and we’re interested in learning more.” the man stiffened slightly at his words, his gaze shifting to you as you continued to maintain your intimate position on his lap. “you’d have to meet my boss,” he said, his voice low and guarded.

you trailed your fingers along his chest, your touch light and deliberate. “if he’s as handsome as you are,” you said with a flirtatious smile, “we just might be interested.” the man’s expression grew pleased, and he reached for your waist with a touch that bordered on possessive. you halted him with a click of your tongue, taking his hands and guiding them higher, just above your thighs.

“only if you let us meet him,” you said, your voice low and commanding. jungkook’s face betrayed a flicker of surprise as he watched the interaction unfold, but the man, undeterred, nodded in agreement. “alright,” he said, a hint of anticipation in his voice. “i’ll arrange for you to meet him.”

as you and jungkook followed the group of men away from the club, you could feel a subtle undercurrent of tension in the air, a quiet anticipation that prickled at your skin. the men led you through a maze of streets, their steps confident and purposeful. the cityscape blurred into a dark tapestry of neon lights and shadowy alleyways as you climbed into the back of a sleek black car, its windows tinted to an opaque darkness.

jungkook settled beside you, the soft hum of the engine providing a low, rhythmic backdrop to the night’s proceedings. he glanced at you, a smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. “you’re playing your role well,” he said, his voice low and tinged with an undertone that you couldn’t quite place. the subtle shift in his tone left you with a sense of unease, but you smiled back at him, determined to stay in character.

“thanks, woobin,” you replied, your voice smooth and confident. the car glided through the city streets, weaving through traffic with practiced ease. the journey seemed to stretch on endlessly, the city lights outside shifting from bright and vibrant to dim and foreboding. as the vehicle took a final turn into a narrow, secluded road, the surroundings became increasingly desolate. the buildings were older, their facades grimy and weathered, creating a stark contrast to the more polished areas you had passed through.

the car stopped in front of an unassuming warehouse, its exterior nondescript except for a small, barely visible sign that read “apex distribution.” the men exited the vehicle first, holding the door open for you and jungkook as you followed them inside. the interior was dimly lit, the overhead lights flickering intermittently. the space was vast and industrial, filled with crates and metal shelving units that cast long, ominous shadows across the concrete floor. the air was heavy with the scent of dampness and rust.

you and jungkook were guided through a series of hallways and staircases, each step echoing in the quiet, oppressive atmosphere. the corridors seemed to go on forever, their walls adorned with faded, peeling posters and graffiti that hinted at the warehouse’s grimy history. finally, the group reached a large, reinforced door. one of the men knocked in a specific pattern, and the door creaked open, revealing a room that contrasted sharply with the warehouse’s exterior.

the room was lit by dim, yellowing lights, casting a harsh, almost sickly glow over its contents. the space was a makeshift arena, its center dominated by a large, circular platform surrounded by a motley assortment of chairs and benches. the walls were lined with various weapons and tools, their purposes unclear but intimidating. a large, imposing man sat at the center of it all, his presence exuding an air of authority and menace.

the men bowed as they approached, their voices low as they informed the boss of the potential recruits. the boss, a man with a heavyset build and a face marked by years of hard living, regarded you and jungkook with a steely gaze. his eyes, cold and calculating, seemed to pierce through you as he assessed the situation.

“you must be lee rachel and min woobin,” he said, his voice gravelly and commanding. you nodded, keeping your composure. “that’s right.”

the boss raised an eyebrow. “are you two dating?” you exchanged a brief glance before affirming, “yes.”

“are you serious about joining?” he asked, his tone firm and scrutinizing. jungkook responded with a decisive nod. “yes.”

the boss leaned back in his chair, his gaze never leaving you. “prove it.”

the simple command caused a ripple of unease between you and jungkook. the atmosphere shifted, the tension palpable as you tried to gauge the meaning behind his words. the boss’s expression remained unreadable, his gaze steady and unwavering. you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady. “how?”

the boss shrugged nonchalantly, a twisted smile playing on his lips. “you seem like a happy couple. let’s see if joining means more to you than your relationship.”

the words hung in the air, their implications sending a shiver down your spine. the men surrounding you and jungkook began to clear a path, dragging you both towards the center of the room. your heart raced as you looked around, trying to make sense of the unfolding situation. the boss’s men moved with purpose, setting up an impromptu arena. you and jungkook were directed to opposite sides, and gloves were handed to both of you—heavy, black leather that felt oddly cold against your skin. the sense of dread grew as the realization of what was about to unfold hit you.

“what do you want?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly despite your best efforts to stay calm. the boss’s eyes glinted with a cold, calculating light. he took a slow drag from his cigar before exhaling a plume of smoke. “make each other bleed.”

the command was delivered with an unsettling calmness that only added to the intensity of the moment. the men around you watched with a mix of anticipation and approval, their eyes following every movement with rapt attention. jungkook’s face betrayed a flicker of shock, but he quickly masked it with a steely resolve. he glanced at you, his gaze intense and unreadable. the weight of the boss’s challenge settled heavily on both of you, the tension in the room thickening as the reality of the situation sank in.

“prove it,” the boss repeated, his voice echoing in the oppressive silence that followed his declaration.

you and jungkook stood in the center of the arena, the gloves tight on your hands. the noise of the crowd faded into the background as you focused on each other, the enormity of the situation pressing in on you. this was not just a test of physical endurance but a trial of your commitment to the cause and to each other.

you met jungkook’s eyes across the makeshift arena, the intensity of the moment reflected in his gaze. there was a hesitation there, a flicker of reluctance that spoke volumes. his eyes, usually so firm and resolute, now held an apologetic edge that made your heart ache. the silent communication between you was almost palpable, the unspoken question hanging heavy in the air.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with concern. you nodded, the decision burning through you despite the pain it was causing. “i’m sure.”

the look of regret in his eyes was almost too much to bear. but there was no turning back now. the boss’s eyes glinted with cold satisfaction as he watched the exchange, his anticipation evident as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for the action to unfold.

the fight began with a sudden burst of energy, both of you moving with a blend of calculated aggression and reluctant restraint. jungkook’s punches were sharp and precise, his movements swift and fluid. you countered with equal intensity, each strike met with a determined resolve to prove your worth. the air was filled with the sharp, jarring sounds of flesh against flesh, each impact reverberating through the arena.

you could feel the sting of pain with every blow, the force of jungkook’s punches causing your muscles to ache and your breath to catch. blood began to mix with sweat, streaking down your face and staining your clothes. the once pristine floor was becoming a grim tableau of bruises and blood, each mark a testament to the ferocity of your struggle.

jungkook's face was a mask of concentration, his expression shifting between resolve and regret as he landed hit after hit. you retaliated with just as much fervor, your punches landing with a satisfying thud as you fought to maintain your ground. the fight was a brutal dance, each move a testament to your determination and unwillingness to back down. the battle continued, each strike leaving a trail of pain and fatigue. both of you were breathing heavily, your movements becoming more sluggish as the minutes wore on. blood mixed with sweat, soaking through your clothes and creating a slippery, crimson sheen on the arena floor. the grunts and gasps of exertion filled the space, punctuated by the occasional groan of pain.

eventually, the intensity of the fight began to take its toll. both of you were staggering, your energy waning as exhaustion set in. you stumbled, falling to the ground beside jungkook, your body aching with the cumulative effects of the fight. the floor was unforgiving, the cold concrete pressing against your bruised and battered skin. despite the pain, you forced yourself to stand, pushing through the fatigue that threatened to overwhelm you. jungkook was in a similar state, his face smeared with blood and sweat, his movements unsteady. you both faced each other, each breath labored and heavy, the fight leaving its mark on both of you.

as you struggled to regain your footing, the boss’s voice cut through the haze of pain and exhaustion. “i’ve seen enough.”

the words brought a moment of trepidation. you exchanged worried glances with jungkook, the uncertainty of the boss’s statement hanging in the air. the men around the arena shifted, their expressions unreadable as they awaited the boss’s final verdict. the boss’s gaze was fixed on you and jungkook, his expression inscrutable. he paused, letting the silence stretch, the tension palpable as you waited for his decision. finally, he broke the silence with a slight, almost imperceptible nod.

“welcome aboard,” he said, his voice carrying a cold finality.

relief washed over you, mingling with the pain and exhaustion that had become a part of you. you looked at jungkook, who was staring at you with a mix of disbelief and exhaustion. despite the bruises and blood, there was a flicker of something like relief in his eyes. the men around you began to move, their demeanor shifting from anticipation to approval. the boss’s words had sealed your place, and as the arena cleared, you and jungkook were left standing amid the aftermath of your brutal test. the fight had been a grueling ordeal, but it had served its purpose, proving your resolve and determination.

in the dimly lit room, you tended to your wounds with a focused, practiced precision. the light from the single lamp cast a soft glow, illuminating your silhouette as you worked. the air was thick with the mingled scents of blood, sweat, and antiseptic, creating a heavy atmosphere that mirrored the intensity of the fight you had just endured.

you stood in front of the mirror, your shirt discarded, leaving you in just a pair of underwear and a loose shirt. the room was small but functional, with a modest bed and a few scattered belongings that gave it a lived-in feel. as you methodically wrapped a bandage around your waist, you could feel jungkook’s gaze on you, his eyes tracking your every movement with a mixture of concern and something more.

he was leaning against the doorframe, his own wounds treated but still fresh. his eyes were drawn to you, and though he tried to avert his gaze, he couldn't help but take in the sight of you, so focused and composed despite the pain.

“i didn’t expect you to hit so hard,” he said, breaking the silence. there was a hint of admiration in his voice, though it was tinged with the discomfort of knowing just how hard you had fought. you chuckled softly, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “could say the same to you.”

the exchange was light, but the air was thick with an undercurrent of something unspoken. as you finished wrapping the bandage around your waist, you moved to tend to his injuries. he stood still, watching as you approached him, your movements fluid and deliberate. his gaze lingered on you, taking in the way you moved with a mix of tenderness and professionalism, your big shirt barely covering your figure.

you smiled at the intensity of his gaze, the way his eyes seemed to follow your every move. “don’t even dream about it,” you said, your tone teasing. he scoffed, but there was a softness in his eyes that belied his attempt to appear indifferent. “i don’t know what you mean.”

you leaned in close to him, your face mere inches from his, and his breath caught in his throat. the proximity was charged with a palpable tension, his body tensing as if bracing for something more. your breath mingled with his, the heat of the moment making your pulse quicken. but before he could react, you pulled away, a teasing smile playing on your lips.

“your forehead’s bleeding,” you said, gently wiping away the blood with a piece of cloth. he looked at you with a mixture of surprise and sarcasm. “my savior,” he said, his tone dripping with mock reverence.

you continued to clean his wound, the act both intimate and professional. each touch was deliberate, your fingers brushing against his skin with a careful precision. the contrast between your soft, gentle care and the roughness of the fight was stark, creating a moment of connection amidst the chaos. as you finished, you met his gaze once more, the teasing smile lingering on your lips. the air between you was charged, the earlier tension now replaced with a different kind of intensity. jungkook’s eyes held a mixture of gratitude and something more, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that had formed between you during the fight.

the days and nights in the mafia compound blended together, each one a test of your will and resolve. every time you emerged from your shared room with jungkook, the world outside seemed a little darker, the people a little more dangerous. but something else changed too—something subtle, almost imperceptible, but undeniable. the more time you spent with him in this underworld, the closer you became.

at first, the closeness was purely practical. you needed to rely on each other to survive, to navigate the twisted labyrinth of the mafia’s inner workings. conversations began as cold, clipped exchanges of necessary information—strategies for gaining the trust of the men around you, plans for your next steps, analyzing every word and action of those who held power over you. but as the days passed, those exchanges grew warmer, more layered with unspoken understanding. the subtle nuances of your interactions began to shift. when you spoke to him, it wasn’t just about the mission anymore—it was about something deeper, something that neither of you could quite name.

one evening, you found yourselves sitting side by side on the small bed in your room, the low hum of the compound's activity filtering through the thin walls. jungkook was leaning against the headboard, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as if lost in thought. you were beside him, close enough to feel the warmth of his body, yet there was still a small distance between you—both physical and emotional. “the big deal with the weapons shipment’s soon,” you said, breaking the silence that had settled between you. “we need to make sure everything goes smoothly.”

jungkook nodded, his expression serious. “i know. but i’ve been thinking, if things go wrong, we need a backup plan.” you turned to him, studying his profile. the sharp lines of his face were softened by the dim light, and for a moment, he looked almost vulnerable. “what are you suggesting?” you asked, your voice quieter now.

“if it gets too dangerous, we pull out. no heroics,” he said, finally meeting your gaze. “i’m not risking your life for this.”

the sincerity in his tone caught you off guard, and you felt a flicker of something warm in your chest—something that had been growing, slowly, over the weeks you had spent together. You weren’t sure what it was, but it made you want to trust him more than you ever had before.

“i’m not risking your life either,” you replied, your voice just as firm. “we’re in this together, aren’t we?”

he looked at you for a long moment, as if searching your eyes for something. Then, almost imperceptibly, he smiled—a small, soft curve of his lips that made your heart skip a beat. it was a rare sight, one that you had only seen a handful of times, and each time it felt like a gift. the silence between you grew comfortable, the tension that had always simmered beneath the surface beginning to ease. you could feel the shift in the air, the way your bodies seemed to naturally gravitate toward each other, closing the small distance that remained.

as the night wore on, you found yourselves talking more, the conversation flowing easier than it ever had before. it was still about the mission, but there were small moments of vulnerability woven into your words—tiny glimpses into the people you were behind the facades you wore for the mafia. “you know,” he said after a while, his voice softer now, “when we first started this, i didn’t think we’d make it this far. i thought Ii’d end up getting us both killed.”

“you’re not giving yourself enough credit,” you replied, your tone equally gentle. “you’ve kept us alive, and more than that—you’ve kept us sane.” he chuckled softly, the sound low and warm. “you’ve been keeping me sane too, you know.” the admission hung in the air between you, and for a moment, neither of you knew what to say. you simply sat there, side by side, in a quiet understanding that was more powerful than any words you could have spoken.

as the days continued, those moments of quiet closeness became more frequent. you found yourself seeking out his presence whenever you could, whether it was during a tense meeting with the mafia bosses or a rare moment of downtime in your room. and he did the same—he gravitated toward you, his presence a constant, reassuring anchor in the chaos of your surroundings. there were nights when you would find yourselves sitting on the floor of your room, sharing a bottle of whiskey you had stolen from the compound’s stash. the alcohol would loosen your tongues, and the conversations would drift from the mission to more personal topics—your pasts, your fears, your dreams for a life beyond the mafia.

one such night, jungkook leaned back against the wall, his legs stretched out in front of him as he stared at the ceiling. “you ever think about what you’ll do when this is all over?” he asked, his voice tinged with a wistful longing. you took a sip of whiskey, savoring the burn as it slid down your throat. “sometimes,” you admitted. “but it’s hard to picture a life outside of this. i’ve been doing this for so long, i don’t even know what normal is anymore.”

he nodded, his eyes still fixed on the ceiling. “yeah, i get that. but, i don’t know, i like to think there’s something better waiting for us. aomething peaceful.” you turned your head to look at him, surprised by the vulnerability in his words. “you really think we’ll find peace?”

he met your gaze, his eyes dark and intense. “if we make it out of this alive, i’ll do everything i can to find it. for both of us.” his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken promise. you felt a surge of emotion that you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel in a long time—hope. it was fragile and fleeting, but it was there, flickering in your chest like a tiny flame.

the nights grew colder as the days passed, and you found yourselves huddling closer together for warmth. it was an unspoken agreement—neither of you acknowledged it, but neither of you pulled away. when the silence between you stretched on, it was no longer uncomfortable, but rather a shared understanding that words weren’t necessary. there were moments when you caught yourself watching him, studying the way his brow furrowed in concentration as he plotted your next move, or the way his jaw clenched when he was frustrated. and sometimes, you would catch him watching you too, his gaze soft and unreadable, as if he was trying to decipher the puzzle that was you.

one evening, after a particularly grueling day, you found yourselves in the small, makeshift kitchen of the compound, the room dimly lit by a single overhead bulb. you were both exhausted, your bodies aching from the physical and emotional toll of the day. jungkook was leaning against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched you rummage through the sparse supplies. “we’ve got nothing but instant ramen,” you said, holding up a pack with a grimace. “again.”

he smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement despite the fatigue etched into his features. “better than nothing, i guess.” you sighed, tearing open the pack and setting a pot of water to boil. as you waited, the silence between you grew, but it was no longer the heavy, tension-filled quiet of before. it was the kind of silence that felt comfortable, like an old friend. when the ramen was finally ready, you split it between two bowls and handed one to jungkook. he took it with a nod of thanks, and the two of you sat down at the small table, eating in companionable silence.

after a while, he set down his bowl, his expression contemplative. “you know,” he began, his voice low, “i never thought i’d say this, but i don’t mind this. being here, with you.” you looked up at him, surprised by his admission. “really?”

he nodded, his eyes meeting yours with a sincerity that made your heart skip a beat. “yeah. i mean, it’s not ideal, obviously. but, i’ve been through worse, and i’ve never had someone to go through it with before. it makes a difference.” his words struck a chord deep within you, stirring emotions that you had long buried. “i feel the same way,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “i never thought i’d trust someone like this again. but with you, it’s different.” his gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought he might reach out, bridge the small gap between you. but instead, he simply nodded, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that left you breathless.

the days passed, each one bringing you closer together in ways you hadn’t anticipated. the connection between you grew, deepened, becoming something more than just the partnership you had started with. it was subtle, unspoken, but it was there—an undercurrent of understanding and shared experience that bound you together in ways you couldn’t explain.

the night had settled in, wrapping the compound in a blanket of darkness and silence. you were in your shared room with jungkook, the dim light from a small lamp casting soft shadows on the walls. the two of you were sitting at the small table in the corner, finishing up the remnants of a late-night meal, the conversation quiet but comfortable. as you were about to clear the dishes, your phone buzzed on the table, the screen lighting up with an incoming call. you glanced at the name flashing on the screen—hoseok.

you hesitated for a moment, then picked up the phone, bringing it to your ear. “hey,” you greeted, your voice soft. “hey,” hoseok’s familiar voice came through, warm and slightly concerned. “are you okay? i haven’t heard from you in a while.”

you smiled, the sound of his voice bringing a sense of comfort that you hadn’t realized you were missing. “i’m okay. things have been intense, but i’m managing.”

“is he being nice?” hoseok asked, his tone light but with a hint of protectiveness that made you smile. you glanced over at jungkook, who was watching you with a curious expression. “yeah, he’s being nice,” you assured, your tone teasing. “no need to worry.”

jungkook’s eyebrows raised slightly at that, but he remained silent, his gaze fixed on you as he continued to eat. hoseok chuckled on the other end of the line. “good. i’d hate to have to come over there and straighten him out.” you laughed softly, shaking your head. “i appreciate the concern, but I think i’ve got it under control.”

there was a brief pause on the other end before hoseok spoke again, his tone more casual. “when you’re back, how about we grab a drink? just to catch up.” you felt a warm, comforting feeling spread through you at the thought. “i’d like that,” you replied, your voice soft.

“great,” he said, the smile evident in his voice. “take care of yourself, alright? i’ll see you when you’re back.” you replied softly, “you too, okay? see you soon.”

you ended the call, setting the phone down on the table. when you looked up, you saw jungkook’s gaze still fixed on you, his expression unreadable. “who was that?” he asked, his voice even but with an edge of something you couldn’t quite place. “hoseok,” you answered casually, not thinking much of it.

jungkook scoffed, a short, disbelieving sound that made you pause. you turned to look at him more closely, frowning slightly. “what’s your problem?” you asked, your tone more curious than accusatory. “nothing,” he replied quickly, too quickly, his eyes darting away from yours.

you tilted your head, studying him. “sure doesn’t seem like nothing.” he didn’t respond, just continued eating, though his movements were more tense, less relaxed than they had been before the call. you decided to brush it off, not wanting to push him on it. “alright, whatever you say,” you muttered, turning your attention back to the dishes. but as you moved around the small room, you could feel his eyes on you, a silent tension hanging in the air between you. it was unlike him to be so off, and it left you feeling uneasy, unsure of what was really going on in his head.

for jungkook, however, the moment you mentioned hoseok’s name, something had shifted inside him. it wasn’t jealousy—at least, that’s what he told himself—but rather an uncomfortable tightness in his chest that he couldn’t quite explain. he didn’t like the idea of you with someone else, especially not someone like hoseok, who was always so damn cheerful and easy to get along with. it bugged him more than it should have, the way you smiled while talking to him, the way your voice softened just a little when you mentioned grabbing a drink with him. he tried to shake it off, telling himself it didn’t matter, that it was none of his business who you spent your time with. but the truth was, it did matter. it mattered more than he was willing to admit, even to himself.

as he sat there, pretending to focus on his meal, his mind kept drifting back to the way you had laughed with hoseok, the way your eyes had lit up at the prospect of seeing him again. it gnawed at him, the thought of you with someone else, and he couldn’t understand why. you were just his partner in this twisted game, nothing more. you had each other’s backs, sure, but that was out of necessity, not anything deeper. at least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

the heavy thud of your fists against the boxing bag echoed through the training room, the sound rhythmic and intense, almost drowning out the rest of the world. your body moved with precision and power, every punch and jab a release of pent-up frustration. sweat poured down your face, your muscles burned, but you pushed on, driven by something deep inside that wouldn’t let you stop.

your breath came in short, sharp bursts, your knuckles aching as they connected with the leather of the bag. you had been at it for what felt like hours, lost in the rhythm, in the need to keep moving, to keep fighting. it was your way of coping, of trying to find some semblance of control in a world that often felt like it was spinning out of your grasp.

the room was dimly lit, the only light coming from the overhead bulbs that cast a faint glow over the equipment. the air was thick with the smell of sweat and the sound of your fists striking the bag, your grunts of effort the only noise breaking the silence. when you finally stopped, your chest heaving with exertion, you stepped back and wiped the sweat from your brow with the back of your hand. your body ached, but it was a good kind of pain, the kind that made you feel alive, grounded.

you glanced around the empty training room, taking a moment to catch your breath before deciding it was time to call it a night. you made your way to the changing rooms, your footsteps echoing in the quiet space. the changing room was deserted, as you expected at this hour. you peeled off your sweat-soaked clothes, your muscles protesting with every movement, and stepped into the shower. the hot water cascaded over your sore body, washing away the sweat and tension, and for a moment, you allowed yourself to relax, to let the steam envelop you in a cocoon of warmth.

but as you stepped out of the shower, the warm water still clinging to your skin, you froze. standing in the doorway of the changing room was a young man, someone you recognized from the boss’s inner circle. his eyes raked over you with a smirk that made your stomach churn with dread. “what the hell are you doing in here?” you demanded, clutching your towel tightly around your body, trying to keep your voice steady despite the fear that gripped you.

he didn’t respond immediately, just took a step closer, his smirk widening. “i know where i am,” he said casually, his voice dripping with arrogance. you felt a surge of panic, your heart pounding in your chest as he continued to approach you. your feet seemed glued to the spot, your body frozen with fear as he reached out and trailed a finger down your neck, sending a shiver of revulsion through you.

“don’t,” you whispered, your voice trembling.

his hand moved to the hem of your towel, tugging at it with a cruel smile. “if you’re as smart as you seem,” he murmured, his breath hot against your skin, “you’ll stay quiet. it’ll hurt a lot less.” tears welled up in your eyes as you clutched the towel desperately, every fiber of your being screaming at you to move, to fight back, but your body refused to obey. you squeezed your eyes shut, praying for the strength to break free, to do anything to get away from him.

but before you could react, the pressure of his hand on your towel was gone, and there was a sudden, violent crash. you opened your eyes to see jungkook, his face twisted in a rage you had never seen before, slamming the man against the lockers. the sound of metal denting under the force echoed through the room as he delivered punch after punch, each one filled with a fury that left you paralyzed. the man crumpled to the floor, blood trickling from his nose, his smirk long gone, replaced by a look of terror. jungkook didn’t stop until the man was barely conscious, his body limp and defenseless.

when it was over, jungkook turned to you, his chest heaving, his hands still clenched into fists. the anger in his eyes softened as he saw you standing there, trembling and tearful, and he crossed the distance between you in an instant. he pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you finally broke down, sobbing against his chest. his hand stroked your wet hair gently, his voice soothing as he whispered, “it’s okay. you’re safe. i’ve got you.” he adjusted your towel, making sure it was securely wrapped around you, before pulling you even closer, his grip on you protective, as if he could shield you from everything in the world that could hurt you.

it took several minutes before your sobs quieted, your breath coming in shaky gasps. when you finally pulled back, jungkook’s eyes were filled with concern, his hands still resting gently on your shoulders. you nodded, still trembling, as you moved to get dressed. your hands were shaky, fumbling with your clothes as you tried to regain some semblance of control. the fear lingered, a cold, unshakable presence that had settled deep in your chest.

he watched you, his gaze never leaving you as you struggled to pull on your clothes. once you were dressed, he grabbed a towel and began drying your hair, his touch gentle, almost tender. the silence between you was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. if anything, it was filled with an unspoken understanding, a connection that had been forged in the heat of the moment.

as he dried your hair, you couldn’t help but feel comforted by his touch, by the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed without you having to say a word. when he was finished, you turned to him, offering him a small, grateful smile. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice still trembling slightly.

he frowned, his jaw tightening. “i should’ve killed him on the spot,” he muttered, his voice low and dangerous. you shook your head quickly, your hand reaching out to touch his arm. “no, you would’ve lost your job,” you said softly, pausing before adding with a weak attempt at a smile, “you wouldn’t get to be my fake boyfriend anymore.” the tension in the room thickened, the words hanging in the air between you. his eyes darkened, his expression serious as he studied your face.

“i don’t think i wanna be your fake boyfriend anymore,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper.

fear gripped you again, but this time it wasn’t the fear of the man who had just threatened you. it was the fear of losing jungkook, of him being disgusted by what had just happened, or maybe disappointed in you for not fighting back harder. your mind raced, jumping to the worst conclusions. “why?” you asked, your voice barely audible, dreading the answer.

he didn’t respond immediately. instead, he closed the distance between you, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek gently. his touch was warm, comforting, and before you could process what was happening, he leaned in and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was soft, tentative at first, as if he was giving you the chance to pull away. but when you didn’t, when you found yourself leaning into him instead, he deepened the kiss, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. every lingering fear, every doubt, seemed to melt away in that moment, replaced by the overwhelming sensation of being held by someone who truly cared.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your lips. “i don’t wanna pretend anymore,” he whispered, his voice filled with a raw honesty that made your heart ache. you looked up at him, searching his eyes for any sign of doubt, but all you saw was the same vulnerability you felt, the same desire to be something more than just partners in this dangerous game.

you nodded slowly, a small, genuine smile breaking through the fear that had gripped you for so long. “neither do i,” you whispered back. you stood there, your heart still racing from the intensity of what had just happened, but now it was for a different reason. jungkook’s words hung in the air between you, and the warmth of his breath still lingered on your lips, a gentle reminder of the kiss you had just shared. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, you knew there was no going back.

without a word, you leaned in, closing the distance between you once more. this time, when your lips met his, there was no hesitation. the kiss was deeper, more urgent, a reflection of all the emotions that had been building up inside you for so long. you felt his arms tighten around you, pulling you closer, his body pressed against yours in a way that made you feel both grounded and weightless all at once.

as the kiss deepened, a sense of dread that had been gnawing at you all night began to dissipate, replaced by a warmth that spread through your entire being. it was as if every bad thing, every fear, every moment of uncertainty that had plagued you was being washed away in the heat of his embrace. with him, you felt safe, protected, as though nothing else in the world mattered. the training room, the locker room, the man who had just tried to violate you—everything faded into the background until all that was left was jungkook and the way he made you feel.

you lost yourself in the kiss, in the way his lips moved against yours, in the way his hands slid up your back, holding you like you were something precious, something he was afraid to lose. it wasn’t just a kiss; it was a lifeline, something to hold onto in the darkness that surrounded your lives.

but then, he pulled back just slightly, enough to look into your eyes, his breath ragged as he searched your face for any sign of doubt. “are you sure?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. “i don’t want to push you, if it’s too soon.”

you shook your head, cutting him off before he could finish. “it’s not,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the intensity of your feelings. “it’s not too soon, jungkook. i don’t know if we’ll even be alive tomorrow, and i don’t wanna waste another second.”

his eyes darkened with something you couldn’t quite place—desire, fear, something more—but he didn’t hesitate. he closed the distance between you again, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was even hotter, even more consuming than the last. there was a desperation in the way you both kissed, as if you were trying to pour everything you felt into this one moment, as if the world might end at any second and all that would be left was this—this connection, this fire that burned between you.

his hands roamed your body, caressing your back, your sides, his touch sending shivers down your spine. every brush of his fingers, every press of his lips, made you feel more alive than you had in a long time. it was as if all the fear, all the darkness that had been clouding your mind was being driven out by the sheer intensity of what you were sharing with him. you could feel his heart beating against your chest, his breath warm against your skin as he deepened the kiss, his tongue brushing against yours in a way that made you gasp, your hands gripping his shirt, pulling him even closer. the world around you ceased to exist; there was only him and the way he made you feel like you could survive anything as long as he was by your side.

he pulled back just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he held you close. “i’m not gonna let anything happen to you,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “not as long as i’m alive.” you smiled softly, your hands trembling slightly as they caressed his face, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “i believe you,” you whispered back, your voice barely audible, but he heard you. you could see the way his eyes softened, the way his grip on you tightened just a fraction more, as if he was afraid to let go.

his hands began to explore again, sliding down to your waist, then up to your chest. he cupped one of your tits gently, his thumb brushing over the peak of your nipple, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. you gasped into his mouth, arching into his touch. the heat between you was palpable, a living, breathing entity that demanded more. he broke the kiss, his eyes never leaving yours as he lowered his head to take your nipple into his mouth, sucking and teasing until you were moaning softly. the sensation was too much, a beautiful contrast to the harsh reality that had been your world for so long.

his hand slid down, toying with the string of your sweatpants. you stepped back slightly, allowing him to pull them down, along with your panties, until you were standing before him in nothing but your shirt. he took a moment to look at you, his eyes traveling over your body with a hunger that made you feel exposed and desired all at once. you could feel yourself practically dripping at the sight of him, the anticipation of what was to come making it difficult to stand still. but you could't hold back, not with the foreign, hungry look in his eyes.

your hand trembled as it dropped down to his pants. you could see how hard he was through the soft, grey fabric, but seeing it wasn't enough. you wanted to taste him, to feel him inside you, to make him feel as good as he made you feel. his fingers rubbed at your clit almost too gently, dipping into the sweet wetness as you fumbled with his boxers.

finally, you managed to free his cock, and you couldn't help but stare at it. it was beautiful, thick and veiny, standing proud and ready. jungkook groaned as you wrapped your hand around it, your grip firm but tentative. he leaned back into the chair, eyes closed, as you began to stroke him, your movements growing more confident with each stroke. you wanted to remember every inch of him, every detail, so you could replay it in your mind when you were apart.

his eyes snapped open, locking onto yours again. “ are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and rough with desire. you didn't answer with words. instead, you dropped to your knees and took him into your mouth, your eyes never leaving his. you heard him suck in a sharp breath as you began to suck, taking him deep and swirling your tongue around the tip. you felt empowered, in control, as he squirmed in the chair. your hands cupped his balls, rolling them gently as you took more of him in, your cheeks hollowing with each bob of your head.

his grip tightened in your hair as he began to thrust, fucking your mouth with a gentle force that had you gagging slightly. you didn't care, you liked it rough, liked the way he was claiming you, even if it was just your mouth for now. you felt your pussy clench, desperate for his touch. “fuck, baby,” he murmured, his voice strained, “you're so good at that.”

his praise spurred you on, and you took him deeper, your throat tightening around his cock. you could feel his thighs tense, his body coiling as he approached climax. his hand slid down to your clit, rubbing furiously as you sucked him off, needing your own release to match his. just as you felt the beginnings of your own orgasm, he pulled you up, your mouth slipping off his cock with an obscene pop. “gotta cum inside you,” he said, his voice gruff and urgent.

you nodded, too overwhelmed by desire to speak. he stood, lifting you and pressing your back against the wall, your legs wrapping around his waist. without another word, he slammed into you, the wall rocking with the force of his thrusts. you threw your head back, the cold metal of the wall pressing into your spine as he claimed you, his hips slamming against yours. it was everything you had dreamed of and more, the reality of having him inside you so much better than the fantasy.

you could feel your orgasm building, the tension in your body reaching a crescendo. “yes, fuck, harder,” you moaned, your voice echoing off the walls of the dimly lit room. jungkook complied, his strokes growing more intense, his grip on your hips tightening. his mouth found your neck, teeth grazing the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of love bites and hickeys that would be a secret testament to your passionate encounter. the pain only added to your pleasure, making you want him even more.

you came with a scream, your body tightening around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. jungkook followed quickly, his cock pulsing inside you as he filled you with his warm cum. you felt him collapse against you, his breath hot and ragged in your ear. for a moment, you just stayed there, his cock still inside you, both of you panting and trying to catch your breath. the reality of what had just happened washed over you, leaving you feeling both satisfied and a little bit scared of the feelings that had been unleashed. but for now, all that mattered was the afterglow, the feeling of his warmth and the sticky evidence of your passion drying on your skin.

you knew that this was just the beginning of a very complicated dance, one that would have consequences that neither of you could predict. but in that moment, all you could do was hold onto him, basking in the feeling of being wanted, of being needed. his mouth found yours again, and the kiss was gentle this time, filled with something deeper than lust. it was a promise, an unspoken vow that you would navigate this dangerous world together, come hell or high water.

the night was quiet, a gentle hum of the city outside the window barely breaking the silence that filled your shared room. you lay beside jungkook, your body clad only in his oversized shirt and a pair of his boxers. his strong arms were wrapped protectively around you, holding you close as if he could shield you from the world with just his embrace. the warmth of his body pressed against yours was comforting, a soothing balm against the chaos of your thoughts. you felt safe there, cocooned in his arms, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you didn’t regret a thing.

as you drifted off to sleep, your head nestled against his chest, you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your ear. it was a reassuring sound, grounding you, reminding you that, at least for tonight, you weren’t alone. the weight of his arm across your waist anchored you, and you let yourself sink into the comfort of the moment, your breathing slowly syncing with his. the world outside, with all its dangers and uncertainties, faded into the background as you let yourself be lulled into a peaceful sleep, the darkness of the room a stark contrast to the warmth you felt in his embrace.

when you woke the next morning, the soft light of dawn filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. you blinked sleepily, momentarily disoriented, before realizing where you were—still in jungkook’s arms, his grip on you as secure as it had been the night before. you tilted your head slightly to look at him, his features softened in sleep, his usually intense expression relaxed. there was something peaceful about the way he looked, a stark contrast to the hardened exterior he presented to the world.

a tender smile tugged at your lips as you leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. he stirred slightly but didn’t wake, his arms tightening around you for just a moment before relaxing again. you carefully extricated yourself from his embrace, not wanting to disturb him, and quietly slipped out of bed. as you dressed in your usual training gear, you couldn’t help but glance back at him, still sleeping soundly, and a warmth spread through your chest at the sight. you didn’t know what the day would bring, but at least for now, you felt a sense of contentment that had been absent from your life for far too long.

the training room was nearly deserted when you arrived, the early hour ensuring you were alone. you welcomed the solitude, the chance to clear your mind before the day began in earnest. the familiar sound of your fists connecting with the heavy bag echoed in the otherwise silent room, the repetitive motion calming you, giving you something tangible to focus on.

but as you trained, your mind drifted back to the previous night, to the feel of jungkook’s lips on yours, the way he held you like you were the only thing that mattered. a shiver ran down your spine at the memory, and you couldn’t help but wonder what would happen next. would things change between you? would it complicate your already dangerous situation? you shook your head, trying to push those thoughts away. there was no point in worrying about the future when you could barely manage the present.

your focus was broken by the sound of the door to the training room opening. you glanced over your shoulder to see a girl, probably more than a couple definite years younger than you, hesitantly stepping inside. she looked almost out of place there, her small frame and nervous demeanor starkly contrasting with the rough men you usually saw training. her eyes darted around the room, as if she were expecting trouble, and when they landed on the punching bag, she seemed to steel herself.

your heart sank as you watched her approach the bag, her movements awkward and unsure. ahe threw a punch, but it was weak, barely making the bag sway. laughter erupted from a group of men watching her from the corner, their mockery harsh and biting. the girl flinched, her face flushing with embarrassment as she tried again, her fists connecting with the bag in a feeble attempt at self-defense.

you couldn’t just stand by and watch her struggle. something inside you stirred—maybe it was a protective instinct, or maybe it was just the memory of being in her shoes once, but you found yourself walking over to her, ignoring the jeers from the men. as you approached, she looked up at you with wide eyes, surprise evident in her expression.

“you’re holding your stance all wrong,” you said gently, stepping up beside her. she looked at you, her brow furrowing in confusion, but you offered her a reassuring smile. “here, let me show you.”

you placed your hands on her shoulders, adjusting her posture, guiding her to position her feet correctly. she was tense under your touch, her nervousness palpable, but she didn’t pull away. you showed her how to properly throw a punch, how to put her weight behind it, how to channel her strength into each movement. as she tried again, this time with your guidance, the punch was more solid, the bag swaying slightly with the force of it.

“there you go,” you encouraged, stepping back to give her space. she tried again, and this time the punch was even stronger, more confident. the laughter from the men faded as they realized she was improving, and you couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride in her determination.

the girl looked up at you, a small, tentative smile on her face, and your heart ached at the sight. she was so young, so innocent in some ways, and yet here she was, trying to survive in a world that would chew her up and spit her out without a second thought. you couldn’t help but wonder how someone like her had ended up in a place like this.

“thank you,” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. you nodded, returning her smile. “keep practicing,” you told her, your tone encouraging. “you’ll get the hang of it.” she nodded, her smile growing a little more confident, and you turned to head toward the locker room. but as you reached the door, her voice stopped you in your tracks.

“i never thought i’d find you.”

you froze, your hand hovering over the doorknob. slowly, you turned back to face her, confusion and disbelief warring within you. “what are you talking about?” you asked, your voice shaky, uncertain.

she took a hesitant step toward you, her eyes wide with something you couldn’t quite place—hope, maybe? “mom and dad, they told me i had a sister. but i never got to see what kind of life you had.”

the world tilted on its axis, and you felt as if the ground had just been ripped out from under you. a sister? you had a sister? your mind raced, trying to make sense of her words, but it was as if your thoughts were stuck in quicksand, the more you tried to grasp them, the more they slipped away. you had never known you had a sister—let alone one who had been raised in this underground world.

you were so lost in your thoughts that you didn’t even realize your hand had slipped off the doorknob until you heard the sound of glass shattering. you looked down in a daze, seeing the shards of the glass you had dropped scattered across the floor. but the glass wasn’t what held your attention—it was the way your hands were trembling, the way your heart was racing in your chest, the sheer disbelief and confusion that had taken hold of you.

the girl took another step closer, her eyes filled with a mixture of hope and fear. “(y/n) (l/n),” she said quietly, and your heart dropped into your stomach. you sank to your knees, the weight of her words pressing down on you, leaving you breathless.

she was your sister. she had to be. there was no other explanation for the way your name had fallen from her lips, no other reason why she would be looking at you with such hope, such familiarity. but it didn’t make sense—it couldn’t make sense. you had been alone your whole life, always fighting to survive, never knowing you had someone out there, someone who was a part of you. you didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to process what you were feeling. all you could do was look at her, at the beautiful, young girl standing before you, at the innocence that had been so clearly marred by the darkness of this world. she looked at you with tears in her eyes, but instead of speaking, she closed the distance between you and pulled you into a hug.

the warmth of her embrace was foreign, yet strangely comforting. you felt the tears begin to blur your vision as she held you, her grip tight as if she was afraid to let go. you wanted to speak, to say something, anything, but the words wouldn’t come. all you could do was hold onto her, the weight of this revelation pressing down on you, threatening to crush you.

“i’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice breaking as the tears streamed down your face. “i’m so sorry.” she didn’t say anything, just held you tighter, her own tears soaking into your shirt. you could feel the raw emotion in her touch, the desperation, the need for connection that mirrored your own. it was overwhelming, this sudden discovery of a sister you never knew you had, this realization that you weren’t as alone in the world as you had always believed.

the days that followed your discovery were a whirlwind of emotions, each one more intense than the last. it felt surreal to wake up every morning knowing that the girl who had stumbled into your life was your sister, that the person you had unknowingly searched for all these years had been right under your nose, confined to the same underground world that you had infiltrated. eunha, she called herself—her real name, a name that felt strange on your tongue, yet familiar in a way you couldn’t quite explain. there was something about her presence that felt like home, like a piece of you that had been missing was finally found.

the first few days were spent mostly in the training room, away from prying eyes. you found yourself drawn to her, spending every free moment getting to know her, piecing together the fragments of a life you had never known existed.

“i’ve never seen the outside world,” she confessed one day, her voice tinged with a sadness that made your heart ache. the two of you sat side by side on the floor of the training room, your backs against the wall, your shoulders almost touching. she was picking at the frayed edge of her worn-out shoes, her eyes downcast, as if ashamed to admit such a thing. “i’ve only heard about it, in stories, from people who come and go. but i’ve never been out there.”

the weight of her words hit you like a punch to the gut. you had always taken the outside world for granted—the sun, the sky, the fresh air, all the little things that made life worth living. to think that your sister had been deprived of all that, trapped in this suffocating underground existence, filled you with a deep sense of regret.

“they kept me here,” she continued, her voice trembling slightly. “mom and dad, they said it was for my safety, that the outside world was too dangerous, that people like us. we wouldn’t survive out there. i believed them because i didn’t know any better. i grew up knowing only this place, these people, and the stories of a sister i thought i’d never meet.”

her words wrapped around your heart, squeezing it with a pain you hadn’t expected. you had always known your parents were involved in something dark, but to think that they had kept her here, isolated, fed her lies about the world beyond these walls. it made your blood boil. “eunha,” you began, your voice thick with emotion, but she shook her head, cutting you off.

“i go by eunha here, but it’s not just a name,” she said, looking up at you with those wide, innocent eyes that held a world of pain behind them. “it’s who i am in this place. it’s all i’ve ever known. but now that i’ve met you, i don’t know who i’m supposed to be anymore.”

you reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “you don’t have to be anyone but yourself,” you told her gently. “we’ll figure it out together.” there was a moment of silence between you, the weight of her words settling over you both like a heavy blanket. she seemed to gather herself before speaking again, her tone more resolved, though still tinged with uncertainty.

“and you, who are you?” she asked, her gaze searching yours. “i mean, i know you’re my sister, but you’re different from everyone else here. you don’t belong here, do you?”

you sighed, knowing you couldn’t lie to her. not now. “i’m undercover,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “my real name isn’t lee rachel. i’m a cop, eunha. i’m here to take this place down from the inside.” her eyes widened in shock, and for a moment, you feared she might recoil from you, that she might see you as the enemy. but instead, she looked at you with something like awe, mixed with a hint of fear.

“a cop,” she repeated, as if trying to wrap her mind around it. “so everything, everything you’ve been doing here,”

“is to gather information,” you confirmed. “to find a way to shut this place down for good. but i never imagined i’d find you here, eunha. i never knew—god, i never knew.” she was silent for a long moment, absorbing everything you’d told her. then, to your surprise, she leaned in, resting her head on your shoulder. “i’m glad it’s you,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady. “i’m glad i found you.”

you felt a lump form in your throat, and you swallowed hard, fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. “i’m glad i found you too,” you whispered, your voice trembling with the weight of your emotions. for the first time in years, you felt a bond, a connection, that went beyond anything you’d ever known. eunha was your sister, your blood, and you felt a fierce need to protect her, to make up for all the lost time, to somehow give her the life she had been denied.

“i won’t tell anyone,” she promised, her voice firm, her eyes shining with determination. “i won’t say a word about who you really are. you can trust me, (y/n).”

“i know,” you said, giving her a small, grateful smile. “i trust you.”

in the days that followed, you introduced her to jungkook. his initial reaction was one of shock, his dark eyes widening as he processed the news. “you have a sister?” he had asked, his voice a mix of surprise and disbelief. “how, how did you not know?”

“it’s a long story,” you had replied, glancing at eunha, who stood quietly by your side. “but she’s here now, and that’s what matters.” jungkook’s gaze had shifted to her, studying her with a mixture of curiosity and caution. you could see the wheels turning in his head, the way he was trying to assess whether she could be trusted, whether she posed a threat to your mission. he was protective, not just of you, but of the operation, and you couldn’t blame him for being wary.

but eunha, in her gentle way, had slowly begun to win him over. it wasn’t easy—jungkook was naturally suspicious of anyone new, especially someone with ties to the underground world. but she was persistent, always polite, always kind, and over time, you could see the way his defenses began to crumble.

one evening, as the three of you sat together in the small kitchen of your shared hideout, eunha had looked at jungkook with a mischievous glint in her eye. “you know,” she had said, her tone light, “i’ve never had a brother-in-law before.”

jungkook had nearly choked on his drink, his eyes going wide with surprise. “brother-in-law?” he had repeated, his voice incredulous. she had nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. “you’re with my sister, right? that makes you my brother-in-law.”

you had watched as jungkook’s expression softened, a rare smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. it was a simple statement, but it meant more than eunha could have known. it was an acceptance, a sign that she was beginning to find her place in your strange little family. jungkook had looked at you then, and the warmth in his gaze had made your heart skip a beat. “brother-in-law, huh?” he had said, his voice teasing. “i could get used to that.”

you had smiled back at him, feeling a swell of emotion in your chest. in that moment, you realized just how much had changed since eunha had come into your life. you weren’t alone anymore, and neither was she. you had each other, and now you had jungkook too. as the days passed, the three of you grew closer, your little makeshift family becoming something solid, something real. there were still challenges ahead, still dangers lurking around every corner, but for the first time, you felt like you could face them together. you had found your sister, and in doing so, you had found a piece of yourself that you hadn’t even known was missing.

and as you sat with eunha one night, listening to her talk about her dreams of seeing the outside world, of finally living the life she had always imagined, you knew that you would do whatever it took to make that dream a reality. you would protect her, you would keep her safe, and you would ensure that she never had to face the darkness of this world alone. because she was your sister, and you were hers. and nothing, not even the shadows that threatened to engulf you both, could ever change that.

the day of the annual dinner arrived far too quickly for your liking. the boss had called everyone in, demanding a full attendance for a formal gathering that evening, and you knew there was no way to avoid it. the fact that you had to keep eunha’s true identity a secret gnawed at you relentlessly, eating away at your resolve. you had only just found her, only just begun to know her, and already, you were forced to hide the bond that connected you. It felt wrong—like a betrayal of everything you wanted to protect. but your cover had to be maintained, even if it meant stifling the fierce protective instinct that had risen within you.

as you stood in front of the mirror, your mind was heavy with the weight of the secrets you bore. you were clad in an elegant, form-fitting dress that clung to your curves in all the right places, the deep shade of midnight blue contrasting beautifully against your skin. the dress was more formal than your usual attire, a clear reminder of the precarious balance you walked between two worlds. your hands trembled slightly as you adjusted the straps, trying to push aside the unease that churned in your stomach.

jungkook stood beside you, his reflection in the mirror providing a momentary distraction from the storm of thoughts in your head. he looked impeccable in his tailored black suit, the lines sharp and precise, exuding an air of authority and confidence that only he could pull off with such effortless grace. his dark hair was slicked back, highlighting the strong angles of his face, and his eyes were locked on you, an appreciative smile playing on his lips.

“absolutely stunning,” he murmured, his voice soft and filled with admiration. his eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail, and you felt a blush creep up your neck, warming your cheeks. you managed a small smile, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “you’re just saying that because you have to,” you teased, though the way he looked at you made your heart flutter in a way that no words could adequately describe.

“not even close,” he replied, stepping closer, his hand coming to rest on your waist. he leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to the side of your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. “you’re breathtaking, (y/n).”

before you could respond, there was a soft knock on the door, and you turned to see eunha standing in the doorway, her wide eyes filled with awe. she looked so innocent, so untouched by the world’s cruelty, and the sight made your heart twist painfully. she was dressed in an adorable white dress, the fabric flowing around her like a cloud, making her look even more ethereal than she already was. the dress was simple, but it suited her perfectly, highlighting her natural beauty in a way that made your breath catch.

“you look gorgeous,” you whispered, the words slipping from your lips before you could stop them. it was true—she was beautiful, radiating a kind of purity that you hadn’t seen in so long, not in a place like this. eunha’s cheeks flushed a delicate shade of pink, and she gave you a shy smile, her fingers twisting together nervously. “i was gonnq say the same about you,” she admitted, her voice soft, almost hesitant, as if she were afraid to speak the words aloud.

you couldn’t help but smile, feeling a rush of affection for the girl standing before you. she was still so young, so untainted by the darkness that surrounded you both. she had been kept hidden away for so long, but now that she was here, you wanted to protect that innocence, to keep her safe from the harsh realities of the world she had been thrust into.

“come here,” you said, holding out your hand to her. she hesitated for a moment before stepping into the room, her small hand slipping into yours. you pulled her into a gentle hug, feeling the warmth of her body against yours, and the sensation filled you with a fierce determination to keep her safe, no matter what.

“would you like me to do your makeup?” you asked, pulling back slightly to look into her eyes. the question was light, almost playful, and you watched as her face lit up with excitement, her eyes sparkling with a joy that made your heart churn. “really?” she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of hope and disbelief, as if she couldn’t quite believe that you were offering her something so simple, yet so meaningful.

“of course,” you said with a smile. “you’re beautiful as you are, but a little makeup might make you feel even more special.” eunha nodded eagerly, and you guided her to sit at the small vanity in the corner of the room. as you began to carefully apply the makeup, you kept it simple—just a touch of concealer to even out her skin tone, a light dusting of blush to bring out the natural flush in her cheeks, and a hint of mascara to define her long lashes. you didn’t want to overwhelm her, but you could see the way her eyes shone with happiness as you worked, the way she held herself a little taller, a little more confident.

when you were finished, you stepped back to admire your work, and you felt a surge of pride as you looked at her. she was stunning, and not just because of the makeup—she had a natural beauty that radiated from within, a light that hadn’t been dimmed despite everything she had been through. “you look even prettier than me,” you told her, your voice filled with genuine admiration.

she blushed again, but there was a glow in her eyes, a happiness that you knew was rare in this place. “thank you,” she whispered, her voice filled with gratitude. “i’ve never felt like this before.” you leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “you deserve to feel beautiful,” you said softly. “because you are.”

she gave you a shy smile before she excused herself, her steps light as she left the room. you watched her go, your heart swelling with affection and a fierce protectiveness that you hadn’t felt in a long time. as the door closed behind her, you turned back to jungkook, who had been watching the entire exchange with a soft smile on his lips. there was something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat, a warmth and tenderness that made you feel as though you were the only person in the world.

“you’re gonna be an amazing mom one day,” he said, his voice low and filled with a kind of quiet certainty that made your breath catch in your throat. the words hit you like a gentle wave, washing over you with a warmth that made your chest tighten with emotion. you hadn’t thought about it much before, about what the future might hold for you and jungkook, but hearing him say those words, seeing the sincerity in his eyes, made something inside you click into place.

you stepped closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck as you looked up at him, your eyes searching his for any hint of doubt. “is that a promise?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. he didn’t hesitate, his hands coming to rest on your waist as he leaned down, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss. when he pulled back, his eyes were filled with a warmth that made your heart flutter. “it just might be,” he murmured, his voice filled with a kind of quiet promise that made you believe, for the first time in a long time, that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay.

the dining room was dimly lit, the heavy wooden table stretching out before you like a dark, endless expanse. thirteen chairs were arranged around it, and each one was filled with a familiar face. eunha sat to your right, her hands folded neatly in her lap, a serene expression on her face that did nothing to betray the turmoil you knew she had endured. jungkook was on your left, his presence a steady anchor in the chaos that surrounded you. across from you sat the boss, his cold, calculating eyes surveying the room with the indifference of a man who had seen far too much, done far too much, to be moved by anything.

to your horror, the man who had tried to violate you was seated just a few spots down the table, his gaze fixed firmly on the plate in front of him, as if avoiding eye contact with you could somehow erase the memory of what he had done. the mere sight of him made your skin crawl, a visceral reminder of the danger that lurked within these walls.

you felt jungkook’s hand slip beneath the tablecloth, seeking yours. his fingers found yours, intertwining with a warmth that steadied your nerves. he gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, a silent message that he was with you, that he would protect you. you squeezed back, grateful for his strength, for the way he could calm the storm inside you with just a touch.

the clinking of silverware ceased as the boss cleared his throat, drawing the room’s attention. the silence that followed was suffocating, heavy with anticipation. he leaned forward slightly, his sharp eyes settling on jungkook. “i heard there was a mishap in the locker room earlier,” he began, his voice deceptively calm. there was a pause as his gaze bore into jungkook, the tension thickening in the air. “where do you get off beating my men?”

the question hung in the air, cold and accusatory, and your heart skipped a beat. jungkook’s hand tightened around yours, but his expression remained composed. he met the boss’s gaze head-on, unflinching. “i wouldn’t have done it,” he began, his voice steady, “if i hadn’t caught him trying to assault her.” he didn’t need to specify who “her” was—everyone knew. his words hung in the air like a sharp blade, slicing through the tension.

jungkook turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as they fixed on the man who had hurt you. the man cowered, his head bowed in shame, his entire body trembling. he was a coward, stripped of his bravado in the face of the truth. your heart pounded in your chest as the memory of that day flashed before your eyes. you felt jungkook’s thumb stroke the back of your hand, a small, comforting gesture that helped keep your fear at bay. but there was no comfort to be found in the boss’s cold, calculating gaze as he turned his attention to the man in question.

“is that so?” the boss asked, his voice chillingly even. the man didn’t answer. he couldn’t. his silence spoke volumes, a silent admission of guilt that echoed in the stillness of the room.

the boss sighed, a sound that was more weary than anything else. then, in one fluid motion, he reached beneath his jacket and pulled out a pistol. the sound of the safety clicking off was deafening in the silence, and before anyone could react, he raised the gun and fired. the bullet struck the man square in the forehead, the crack of the gunshot reverberating through the room like a thunderclap. blood sprayed against the wall behind him as his body slumped forward onto the table, lifeless. and then, there were twelve.

you gasped, the air leaving your lungs in a rush as the reality of what had just happened hit you. the room was suddenly too quiet, the silence suffocating. the shock rippled through you like a cold wave, numbing your senses, freezing you in place. you turned to look at jungkook, and the sheer horror in his eyes mirrored your own. the two of you were caught in a shared nightmare, one that you couldn’t wake up from, no matter how much you wanted to.

the boss calmly holstered his gun, as if he had just dealt with a minor inconvenience rather than taken a life. “why didn’t you just say so?” he asked, his tone almost conversational, as if the murder that had just taken place was nothing more than a routine matter.

you were mortified, but what terrified you even more was the lack of reaction from eunha. she hadn’t flinched, hadn’t gasped, hadn’t even blinked. her face was a mask of emotionless calm, as if she had witnessed this kind of thing a hundred times before and it no longer fazed her. it was a stark contrast to the horror you and jungkook felt, and it sent a chill down your spine. how much had she seen? how much had she endured to become so numb?

the boss nodded to eunha, and without hesitation, she stood and began to pass around twelve wine glasses, moving with a practiced grace that belied her youth. she placed a glass in front of each person, her movements smooth and precise, her expression serene, as if she were simply going through the motions of a task she had performed countless times before. as she reached you, you couldn’t help but notice the way her hands didn’t tremble, the way her eyes remained dull, devoid of any real emotion. she was a ghost of the girl she should have been, and the realization made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected. how had she survived in this world for so long, and how had it changed her? she then passed around a basket of bread, followed by a bottle of wine, filling each glass with a measured amount. when she was done, she returned to her seat, her face as impassive as ever.

the boss raised his glass, and the rest of you followed suit, though your hands felt heavy as lead, your movements mechanical. “tomorrow night,” he began, “there will be a heist. it’s a big one, and there’s a good chance it’ll end in a shootout with a rival gang. i need all of you at your best, focused, and ready to do whatever it takes to come out on top.”

you listened to his words, but your mind was elsewhere, trapped in the image of the man’s lifeless body slumped over the table, the blood still dripping onto the floor. this was the world you were in now, a world where life was cheap, and death was just another part of the business. you didn’t need to say anything to jungkook; the look you shared was enough. this was a warning, a grim reminder of the stakes you were playing with, that there was no turning back.

the next day dawned slowly, the pale light of morning seeping through the cracks in the heavy curtains like a hesitant promise. you awoke in jungkook’s arms, his warmth a comforting presence beside you. the memories of the previous night clung to your thoughts like a dark fog, but as you lay there in the quiet of the morning, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing, you felt a small, flickering spark of hope. he was here. you weren’t alone.

he stirred beside you, his eyes fluttering open as he sensed your wakefulness. he gave you a sleepy smile, the kind that always seemed to reach the very corners of his eyes, and you felt a faint tug at your heart. it was incredible how he could make you feel safe, even when the world around you seemed to be falling apart. “morning,” he murmured, his voice still husky from sleep. he reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, his touch gentle. “how are you feeling?”

you hesitated, the question hanging in the air between you. how were you supposed to feel? the image of the man’s lifeless body from last night still haunted your thoughts, a gruesome reminder of the world you were trapped in. but when you looked into jungkook’s eyes, you saw something else—strength, determination, and a flicker of hope that had been missing for too long. “i’m okay,” you finally replied, your voice quiet but steady. “i’m just trying to wrap my head around everything.”

he nodded, understanding in his gaze. “i know it’s a lot,” he said softly, “but try to look on the bright side. you have me, and you have eunha. tonight, it’ll all be over, and we can get out of this mess for good.” he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. the feeling of his chest rising and falling beneath you, the steady beat of his heart, it grounded you. it reminded you of what you were fighting for. this wasn’t just about taking down a criminal organization; it was about securing a future for you, for jungkook, and for eunha. a future where she could be free, where you could show her the world beyond these dark walls.

“i can’t wait to show her the outside world,” you whispered, your thoughts drifting to your sister. “she’s been trapped here for so long, she deserves to see everything she’s missed.” jungkook’s hand found yours, squeezing it gently. “she will,” he promised, his voice full of conviction. “we’ll show her everything. qnd we’ll do it together.”

the day stretched out before you, a long, quiet expanse of time that felt strangely calm. jungkook stayed by your side, his presence a constant source of reassurance. he made sure you ate, even though your appetite was nearly nonexistent, and he kept the conversation light, steering you away from the darker thoughts that threatened to consume you.

you spent hours talking about the future, about the life you could build once this was all over. jungkook painted pictures of a life filled with simple joys—waking up to the sound of birds outside your window, spending lazy afternoons exploring the city with eunha, and quiet evenings curled up on the couch with him, watching movies or just talking about your day. it was a dream, but it was one you clung to with all your might, letting it fuel the fire that kept you going.

as the day wore on, the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the room. you found yourself staring out the window, watching as the light slowly faded, the promise of nightfall inching closer. tonight was the night. the thought sent a shiver down your spine, a mix of anticipation and fear knotting in your stomach.

jungkook noticed, his hand finding yours once again. “hey,” he said softly, his voice a gentle anchor in the sea of your turbulent thoughts. “we’ve got this. we’ll all be in the same spot, and the rest of our team will be there to cover our backs. just a few more hours, and then, we’re free.” you nodded, trying to absorb the confidence in his words, to let it steady your nerves. the idea of freedom, of living a life with him, it was almost too much to hope for. but it was all you had, and you weren’t about to let go of it.

“i’m just worried,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “what if something goes wrong?” jungkook cupped your face in his hands, forcing you to meet his gaze. “nothing’s gonna go wrong,” he said firmly. “we’ve planned for this, we’ve trained for this, and we’re ready. you’re ready.”

his words were like a lifeline, something to hold onto as you navigated the treacherous waters ahead. you took a deep breath, nodding slowly. “okay,” you murmured, leaning into his touch. “i trust you.” a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “good,” he said, his voice softening. “because i trust you too. and after tonight, we’ll finally have the life we’ve been dreaming of.” you spent the rest of the afternoon in a sort of quiet companionship, the two of you moving through the motions of the day as if in a trance. there was an unspoken understanding between you—a shared sense of purpose that kept you both grounded, even as the weight of what was to come pressed down on you.

the night had a suffocating air, thick with tension that clung to every breath you took. the warehouse where the showdown was set to occur loomed ahead like a dark, foreboding fortress, its looming shadows melding into the blackness of the night. dim light spilled through the cracks in the metal walls, casting eerie shapes on the ground. the gravel crunched beneath your boots as you approached, the sound barely audible over the distant hum of the city that was unaware of the impending bloodshed.

jungkook was at your side, his presence a mixture of comfort and concern. he walked with a tense calm, his hand subtly brushing against yours with every step. his gaze darted around, always vigilant, yet there was a softness in his eyes when they settled on you. “tonight’s the night,” he whispered, more to himself than to you. “we’ll get through this, and after that, we’ll be free. you, me, and eunha. we’ll show her the world.”

his words were meant to reassure, but you couldn’t shake the weight pressing down on your chest. the future he painted sounded like a dream—one that you so desperately wanted to hold onto, but the reality of the night made it feel like it was slipping through your fingers. you glanced up at him, your thoughts heavy with the unspoken fears that swirled in your mind. “jungkook,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper. “if we don't make it out—”

but he cut you off, his tone firm, almost commanding. “we will make it out.” he stopped walking and turned to face you, his hand gently gripping your arm. there was a fire in his eyes, one that burned with determination. “but i love you more. more than anything else in this world.”

before you could respond, the sudden, sharp sound of gunfire shattered the silence. the air erupted with chaos—screams, the sound of bullets tearing through the night, the desperate shouts of men fighting for survival. the world around you became a blur of movement and noise, the lines between friend and foe blurring in the chaos.

jungkook moved with swift precision, his gun raised as he shot at the figures that darted through the shadows. you followed close behind, your heart pounding in your chest. every sense was heightened, every movement critical as you ducked and weaved through the barrage of bullets.

out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure move toward you with a gun aimed directly at your head. time slowed for a split second, and your breath caught in your throat. but before you could react, a deafening shot rang out, and the man crumpled to the ground, lifeless. you turned to see jungkook, his gun still smoking, his eyes wide with the intensity of the moment. “thank you,” you managed to say, your voice trembling with relief and gratitude. he nodded, a brief smile flickering across his lips before he motioned for you to move. the two of you ducked behind a stack of crates, your backs pressed against the cold metal as you caught your breath.

just then, out of the smoke and chaos, a small figure came running toward you—eunha. her eyes were wide with fear, her small frame trembling as she reached you. the sight of her sent a jolt of panic through your veins. “eunha,” you hissed, pulling her close. “what are you doing here? it's not safe, you have to go.”

but her eyes were filled with tears, and she shook her head violently. “no, you have to go. please, you have to leave now.” the urgency in her voice was unlike anything you'd ever heard before. "what? why?" your mind raced with confusion and fear, trying to make sense of her words.

through her sobs, eunha’s voice cracked as she confessed, “i told the boss about you. i didn’t mean to—i was excited about seeing you, and it slipped. i was afraid, i didn’t know what to do, and i told him everything. you have to leave before he gets to you.”

the betrayal hit you like a punch to the gut, the shock so overwhelming that it took you a moment to process what she was saying. you felt jungkook stiffen beside you, the disbelief and hurt clear in his eyes. but there was no time to dwell on it—sirens wailed in the distance, growing louder with each passing second, signaling the arrival of the authorities.

“stay here,” you told her, your voice a mix of urgency and fear. you peered around the crates to see a swarm of officers descending upon the scene, led by hoseok. relief flooded through you despite the chaos; the sight of him meant that the nightmare might finally end. jungkook's grip on your hand tightened as he offered you a strained smile. the disbelief and betrayal were still evident in his eyes, but there was also a flicker of hope. “it’s almost over,” he whispered, more to himself than to you.

the rival members, realizing they were outmatched, began to scatter. the officers moved in, detaining anyone they could get their hands on. in the midst of it all, you saw the boss—your boss—being dragged away by hoseok, thrashing against his grip. but then, something changed. the boss’s eyes found yours, locking onto you with a look so dark, so filled with malevolence, that it made your blood run cold.

before you could react, he pushed hoseok off with a sudden burst of strength, grabbing the officer’s gun in one swift motion. the gunshot rang out, splitting the air with a deafening crack. your heart stopped, and for a moment, time stood still. but the pain never came. you looked down at yourself in disbelief—no blood, no wound. then you saw her.

eunha stood beside you, her eyes wide with shock and pain as blood bloomed across her chest like a crimson flower. the world crashed down around you as she dropped to the ground, the life draining from her eyes even before her body hit the earth.

“no!” the scream tore from your throat as you dropped to your knees beside her, jungkook following suit, his own voice choked with horror. you grabbed eunha’s hand, feeling the warmth slipping away as she struggled to breathe. “hold on,” you pleaded, your voice breaking. “help is here, just hold on.”

but all she could do was smile through the pain, her grip on your hands weakening with each passing second. “i’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, a tear slipping down her cheek.

her eyes fluttered as she forced out her final words, her voice a fragile whisper that broke your heart into pieces. “thank you, for showing me the outside world.” and then her hand went limp, her eyes closed, and the world went black. the moment her hand fell limp, a visceral, gut-wrenching scream tore from your throat, echoing through the warehouse with a sound of raw, unbridled grief. the world around you seemed to collapse into a nightmarish haze of flashing lights and distant voices. jungkook’s face, though painted with his own shock and horror, was the only constant in this maelstrom.

you crumpled beside her lifeless form, your fingers still clutching her cold, bloodstained hand. the world blurred into a mix of red and black as your vision swam with tears. the sirens, once a distant wail of hope, now sounded like the cruel harbingers of your loss. wach breath you took was ragged, tearing at your chest with an intensity that felt like it would rip you apart from the inside out.

jungkook wrapped his arms around you, his hold both firm and tender as he tried to pull you away from the scene. his own sobs were muffled against your shoulder, his voice a low, desperate murmur in your ear. “don’t look,” he choked out, his words straining to break through the tears. “please, don’t look.”

but you couldn’t stop. you couldn’t look away from eunha’s body being gently lifted onto a stretcher, the cold, clinical efficiency of the officers contrasting brutally with the warmth and life that had been snuffed out so cruelly. your sobs grew louder, mingling with jungkook’s as the reality of the situation sank in. you thrashed in his arms, your body wracked with grief, your mind screaming in denial and pain.

hoseok, his face a mask of concern and sympathy, rushed to your side. his presence was a small comfort amidst the chaos, but his words felt hollow against the backdrop of your overwhelming anguish. “it’s okay,” he said, trying to soothe you with a voice full of empathy. “it’s all over. it’s gonna be alright.”

but it wasn’t okay. it wasn’t over. the weight of loss was crushing, and no amount of reassurances could lift it from your heart. you continued to sob, your body shaking uncontrollably as jungkook held you close, his own tears soaking into your hair. the world outside seemed to fall away, leaving only the sharp, searing pain of your sister’s death.

the following days were a blur of darkness and sorrow. the funeral was a solemn, heart-wrenching affair, and every moment felt like an eternity of raw, unhealed wounds. jungkook was your steadfast support, his quiet strength a fragile anchor in the storm of your grief.

on the day of eunha’s memorial, the sky was a somber gray, matching the heaviness that settled over you. jungkook walked with you to the cemetery, his presence a balm for your shattered spirit. he, too, felt as if he had lost a child of his own. the cemetery was a quiet, serene place, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had consumed your life. the graves were marked with simple stones and surrounded by patches of manicured grass.

when you reached her grave, jungkook carefully set down a bouquet of fresh, vibrant flowers. his tears flowed freely, mingling with the rain that had begun to fall softly from the sky. he stood beside you, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders as he kissed your forehead. his touch was gentle, but it held a depth of emotion that spoke of his own suffering and solidarity with your pain.

you knelt beside the grave, your heart aching as you stared at the photograph of eunha framed by the flowers. the sadness that had been your constant companion now seemed to reach a new, unbearable depth. you reached into your pocket and pulled out the medal you had won for the infiltration—the symbol of a world that had taken so much from you.

with trembling hands, you placed the medal beside eunha’s photograph. it felt like a cruel irony—a symbol of your accomplishments in a world that had ultimately failed to protect her. you whispered a final goodbye, tears streaming down your face as you wished her peace in a place far removed from the cruelty of the underground. jungkook watched you with a profound sadness in his eyes. his own tears were a testament to the love and loss he felt for eunha, and the comfort he tried to offer you was an echo of the pain that mirrored your own. he held you close, the warmth of his embrace a small solace in the bitter chill of your grief.

as you stood together, gazing at the grave, you found some small measure of comfort in the thought that eunha was now in a place far better than the harsh world she had known. her spirit was free from the shadows that had plagued her life, and the hope that she was exploring something far more beautiful than the outside world, gave you a tiny glimmer of solace in the midst of your overwhelming sorrow.

✧.*

a/n: lowkey my name except pildo survives

under the moon (달 아래) — kim namjoon (김남준)

this is part one, part two can be found here

✧.*

life had unraveled like the frayed edges of a delicate drapery. each thread that once held your world together seemed to have slipped through your fingers, leaving you grasping at memories that no longer felt like your own. the air had grown heavier, thick with a silence that pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe. colors that once brightened your days had faded to muted shades, as if the world itself had lost its vibrancy, reflecting the numbness that settled deep within you.

time moved differently, stretching endlessly in moments that felt like they would never end, yet slipping away in a haze when you tried to grasp it. nights bled into days, marked only by the quiet echoes of thoughts you couldn’t quite escape, thoughts that circled in your mind like a storm you couldn’t find shelter from. you were adrift, untethered, as if the solid ground you once stood on had crumbled beneath your feet, leaving you suspended in a void where nothing made sense.

even the simple things, the ones you had taken for granted, felt foreign and out of reach. laughter sounded distant, like a memory of a dream you weren’t sure you ever had. the warmth of sunlight on your skin felt like a distant echo of a comfort you could no longer feel. you had become a stranger in your own life, watching from a distance as it fell apart, powerless to stop the pieces from scattering.

you sat on the docks, your feet dangling over the edge, barely touching the cold, dark water below. the wooden planks were weathered and rough beneath you, each one holding the memory of countless others who had sat here before, lost in their own thoughts. the day was heavy with the scent of salt and seaweed, the gentle lapping of the waves the only sound breaking the silence. above, the sky was a vast expanse of blue, dotted with stars that seemed too far away to matter.

in your hand was a bottle of soju, the cool glass damp from the night air. you had been nursing it for a while, taking slow, deliberate sips, letting the burn settle in your chest before swallowing it down like a bitter truth. each sip felt like a small rebellion against the ache that had taken residence in your heart, but it did little to numb the pain.

the events of the past few days replayed in your mind, each one sharper than the last. you had trusted him, loved him with a fierceness that scared you at times. but he had left you, not just abandoned, but burdened with the weight of his debt—debts you hadn’t even known existed until the collectors came knocking. and as if that betrayal wasn’t enough, he had left you for your best friend. confronting her had been like walking into a nightmare. the hurt in her eyes when you accused her, the way she had looked at you with pity, not guilt. you had expected an apology, a confession that she had made a mistake, but instead, she had stood by him, unwavering. his mother’s arrival had only made things worse, her voice shrill and unforgiving as she berated you, her book club friends nodding along, their eyes filled with judgment. you hadn’t meant to cause a scene, but their anger, their righteousness, had pushed you out, sent you running until you found yourself here, alone.

you took another long drink from the bottle, the alcohol warming your throat as it went down, but leaving a cold emptiness in its wake. the docks had always been your refuge, a place where you could escape the noise of the world, but tonight, even the quiet seemed to mock you. you stared out at the horizon, the lights of the distant city blinking like tiny, indifferent stars, and you wondered how everything had gone so wrong.

a rustle caught your attention, and you glanced to your side. across from you, not too far away, sat a homeless man, his clothes tattered and worn, his face weathered by years of hardship. his eyes, however, were sharp, and they were fixed on the bottle in your hand. he didn’t say anything, just watched you with a mix of curiosity and hunger, and you could see the desire for a drink etched in the lines of his face. you sighed, the sound heavy with the weight of everything that had happened, and without a word, you extended the bottle towards him. he hesitated for a moment, then shuffled closer, his movements slow and deliberate. he took the bottle from your hand with a nod of thanks, but still, neither of you spoke.

the silence stretched between you, thick and impenetrable, as he took a swig from the bottle. you watched him, noting the way his hands trembled slightly as he drank, the way his eyes closed for a brief moment as the alcohol slid down his throat. he settled beside you, the two of you sitting in a shared, unspoken understanding of the night’s loneliness.

“do you ever wish you could sleep for the next hundred years?” you asked suddenly, your voice barely louder than a whisper. the words had slipped out before you could stop them, a quiet admission of the exhaustion that had seeped into your bones. you didn’t expect an answer, and the man didn’t offer one. he continued to stare out at the water, the bottle now resting in his lap, his silence a mirror to your own thoughts.

but you couldn’t stop. the words kept spilling out, each one tugged from the depths of your sorrow. “life is awful,” you continued, your voice cracking with the weight of the truth. “every time i think it’s getting better, it just gets worse. it’s like some cruel joke, this constant cycle of hope and disappointment.” the man didn’t move, didn’t even look at you. his silence was deafening, yet somehow comforting in its neutrality. he wasn’t there to judge or console, just to listen—or maybe, not even that. perhaps he was just a presence, a reminder that you weren’t entirely alone, even if it felt like it.

your voice faltered, and you felt the first sting of tears burning at the corners of your eyes. you tried to hold them back, to swallow the sobs that were building in your chest, but it was useless. the dam broke, and you buried your face in your hands, your shoulders shaking with the force of your cries. the tears were hot against your skin, your sobs muffled as you tucked your head between your knees, trying to make yourself as small as possible, to disappear into the night.

for a long while, the only sound was your crying, the grief pouring out of you in waves. the man remained silent, his gaze now fixed somewhere in the distance, as if he was watching a world that neither of you could see. you didn’t expect him to comfort you, didn’t even want him to. all you needed was to release the pain that had been choking you since everything had fallen apart.

when your tears had subsided into soft, hiccupping breaths, the man shifted beside you. he sighed, a deep, resigned sound, and for the first time, he spoke. his voice was rough, like gravel being dragged across pavement, but there was a quiet wisdom in it, a hard-earned understanding of the world. “life won’t get better just because you want it to,” he said, his words hanging in the cold air between you. he didn’t offer any more than that, no advice or platitudes, just the blunt truth that he had learned over years of hardship.

he stood up slowly, the bottle now empty in his hand, and he moved a few feet away, curling up on the wooden planks with his back to you. you watched as he settled down, pulling a tattered blanket around himself, his body already relaxing into sleep. the conversation was over, and you were left alone again, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. you stared at the empty spot beside you, where the bottle had rested just moments before, and felt an overwhelming sense of emptiness. life wouldn’t get better just because you wanted it to, but you hadn’t given up wanting, not yet.

you stood on the edge of the docks, the wooden planks beneath your feet creaking softly as you stared out at the water. the sun hung low in the sky, its golden light casting long, warm reflections on the rippling surface of the bay. the distant murmur of the city seemed to fade as your gaze followed the gentle dance of the waves, their rhythmic motion both calming and hypnotic. it was then you heard it—a sudden splash that jolted you from your reverie.

you turned swiftly, eyes scanning the dock for the source of the disturbance. panic gripped you as you spotted a small figure struggling in the water. a little boy, no older than six, flailed desperately, his tiny arms reaching out as he bobbed helplessly. his parents, oblivious to the danger, chatted animatedly on the dock, their laughter ringing hollow in the midst of the growing crisis.

your heart raced, and you glanced over at the homeless man who usually occupied a corner of the docks. he lay slumped against a crate, fast asleep, his tattered coat pulled tightly around him. desperation surged through you as you realized the responsibility of the moment fell squarely on your shoulders. you cursed under your breath, frustration and fear mingling as you pushed yourself into action.

without a second thought, you sprinted toward the edge of the dock. the world seemed to blur around you as you dove into the cold, dark water. the shock of the chill hit you hard, and for a split second, you were enveloped in a freezing embrace. the surface above you shimmered faintly, growing dimmer as you plunged deeper. your limbs cut through the water with urgency, each stroke bringing you closer to the struggling boy.

when you finally reached him, his face was etched with sheer terror, his eyes wide and glassy. you grabbed him firmly, wrapping your arms around his small, shivering body. he clung to you with a vice-like grip, his sobs muffled by the water. you kicked with all your might, pushing upwards, determined to get him to safety. as you breached the surface, the dimming light of the sun cast eerie shadows across the water. you could see the boy’s father now, his face a mask of fear and urgency as he maneuvered a small raft toward you. with a final burst of energy, you managed to get the boy onto the raft. the father, his face etched with gratitude, reached out a hand towards you.

you were about to grasp it when you noticed something strange. the sun, which had been steadily sinking, was now obscured by an enormous, dark shadow. your gaze followed the shadow up, and your breath caught in your throat. the sun was being eclipsed, a celestial body slipping between you and its light. the sky darkened abruptly, the shadow growing ever larger, swallowing the golden hue with an ominous, encroaching blackness.

panic gripped you anew as the raft’s father shouted at you to take his hand. but before you could respond, a strange, powerful force seemed to pull at you from below. the water beneath you churned violently, dragging you down with an insistent, merciless strength. the familiar warmth of the sun’s rays was now a distant memory, replaced by the encroaching darkness. you struggled against the pull, but the force was overwhelming. as you descended, the water around you grew darker and colder. You glanced up one last time, the surface above you now a faint, distant blur. the sun was gone, and the moon seemed to press down on you with an oppressive, unyielding presence.

in the depths of the water, you began to see fleeting, fragmented visions—glimpses of your best friend, their face full of concern; your boyfriend, looking at you with eyes filled with love and worry. these images flickered like memories on the brink of dissolution, fading in and out as you sank deeper and deeper. the darkness enveloped you, the water now a viscous black void. you reached out, but there was nothing to grasp, nothing to hold onto. the last remnants of light slipped away, and with a final, desperate gasp, everything went black.

the sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows over the bustling streets of the goryeo dynasty's capital. a palpable excitement filled the air as the crowd gathered, their murmurs rising to a crescendo as they awaited the arrival of the imperial procession. the cobblestone streets seemed to vibrate with anticipation as the riders galloped in, their horses' hooves striking the ground in rhythmic beats. the crowd parted respectfully, creating a clear path for the approaching figures.

the lead rider, whose face was partially obscured by an ornate mask, exuded an aura of authority. despite the mask, his commanding presence was unmistakable. as he drew closer, the mask was subtly lifted, revealing the sharp features of kim namjoon, the fourth imperial prince of goryeo. his eyes, sharp and discerning, surveyed the crowd with a mix of regality and practiced indifference.

at the palace, the scene was one of a different nature entirely. the atmosphere within the grand palace complex was a blend of opulence and casual domesticity. In the palace's expansive hot springs, a more relaxed environment prevailed. the tenth prince, baekhyun, splashed gleefully in the steaming waters, his laughter echoing off the stone walls. his actions were a far cry from the formalities of court life, displaying a childlike exuberance that was both endearing and mischievous.

beside him, the fourteenth prince, kang daniel, remained close, his presence a constant in baekhyun’s playful antics. daniel’s eyes sparkled with amusement as he engaged in the water games, showing a loyalty and camaraderie that was evident in their every interaction. the water playfully splashed around them, creating a lively contrast to the otherwise serene setting. the third prince, kang chaehee, observed from a slightly elevated edge of the hot springs, a sly scowl playing on his lips. his eyes followed the two princes with an air of calculated disbelief, as though he were silently plotting his next move or simply reveling in their stupidity.

the thirteenth prince, kang younghyun, joined the others with a warm smile, his entrance into the water adding a new layer of mirth to the scene. younghyun’s demeanor was that of a congenial companion, blending effortlessly into the group as he splashed and laughed with baekhyun and daniel.

the eighth prince, kang chwe hansol, watched the scene unfold with a calm and thoughtful expression. his gaze, serene and contemplative, contrasted with the playful energy of the younger princes. hansol’s mind was occupied with matters of the palace and the well-being of its occupants, a duty that seemed to weigh heavily on him. the ninth prince, kang yeosang, also observed from a distance, his face a mask of indifference. his role in the royal family was less pronounced, but his presence was a constant backdrop to the more dominant personalities of his brothers.

as the evening wore on, hansol noted the conspicuous absence of the fourth prince. his brow furrowed slightly in concern. “if namjoon is any later,” he said thoughtfully, “he’ll miss the ritual ceremony.” the ritual itself played a vital role in the dynasty as a whole, a tradition that had gone on for what could have been centuries. its purpose was not only to bring the princes together, but to rid them and the palace of spirits and hexes.

baekhyun, still immersed in the water, nudged daniel playfully. “i heard,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eye, “that namjoon’s been killing people like a wolf. maybe we’ll be next.” he let out a playful howl, imitating a wolf with exaggerated movements. chaehee’s eyes narrowed, and he chided sang with a tone of authority. “quiet, baekhyun. this is all but the time for such nonsense.”

just as baekhyun began to submerge himself deeper into the water, a sudden figure emerged behind him. you gasped for air, your heart pounding as you struggled to catch your breath. the shock of the cold water and the realization of being in such a strange and precarious situation overwhelmed you. your mind raced, trying to make sense of your surroundings.

baekhyun turned around abruptly, his eyes widening in disbelief as he stared at you. “there’s a girl in the water!” he called out in shock, his voice carrying across the hot springs.

the princes froze, their expressions shifting from surprise to confusion as they took in the unexpected sight. before you could fully process the situation, a voice to your left beckoned you. you turned to see a slave girl standing at the edge of the hot springs in the bushes, her eyes darting nervously between you and the assembled princes. she gestured urgently for you to come over and whispered a name that you struggled to understand—“come on, my lady nabi.”

you had no clear idea of what she was saying, but the urgency in her voice compelled you to follow. you moved toward her, the water clinging to you as you emerged from the hot springs, your movements slow and hesitant. the princes watched in stunned silence, their gazes fixed on you. hansol’s eyes widened slightly as he processed the situation. “na…bi?” he murmured softly, his voice barely audible over the rippling water. the name hung in the air, its significance unclear but laden with an unsettling sense of foreboding.

the slave girl, chayeon, moved swiftly and decisively, her demeanor a stark contrast to the chaotic scene unfolding around you. her clothes, though simple and practical, were impeccably clean, and her face wore an expression of stern disapproval. she guided you away from the hot springs, her hands gripping your arm with a firmness that left no room for argument.

“lady nabi, what are you doing here?” she scolded, her voice a sharp whisper that cut through the murmurs of the princes. “you mustn’t be here. how did you end up in the water? this is no place for you!” her words came rapid-fire, her frustration palpable. her eyes scanned you, as if seeking to understand how you had arrived in such a predicament.

as she ushered you away, her scolding continued, though her voice softened slightly. “are you feeling alright now? are you hurt?” her concern, though genuine, was laced with an undercurrent of irritation. the whirlwind of her reprimand left you bewildered, struggling to make sense of your surroundings.

you were still disoriented from the cold shock of the water and the suddenness of the situation. you wondered why chayeon kept addressing you as “lady,” and why you had been dragged into this unfamiliar place. your confusion deepened as you took in the scene before you.

the outdoor pools, set amidst the grand palace grounds, were filled with people clad in elaborate period clothing. their garments were rich with color and intricate designs, the fabrics shimmering in the soft light of the setting sun. the setting was almost idyllic, with the gentle sounds of the water mingling with the low hum of conversation. it struck you with a sense of surrealism—the opulence and the formality of the setting contrasted sharply with the disarray of your predicament.

a growing realization began to dawn on you. the period clothing, the palace surroundings, the way chayeon addressed you—it all seemed to indicate that you had somehow crossed into another realm, a place that bore the hallmarks of the hereafter. the thought was disorienting and unsettling. overwhelmed and unable to process the strange new reality, your vision began to blur. the world around you grew dim, and with a final, desperate gasp, you fainted, collapsing into the comforting embrace of darkness.

the fourth prince made his entrance at the palace gates. his arrival was marked by an imposing presence, the grandeur of his attire and the regal bearing of his posture commanding attention. as he rode through the gates, his lead attendant followed closely, speaking with a tone that was both respectful and cautious.

“your highness,” the attendant said, his voice steady despite the tension in the air. “remember to uphold the honor of your adopted family name before the king. after your audience, you will need to return to shinju.” namjoon’s face twisted into a sneer at the mention of his adopted status. his tone was laced with sarcasm as he replied, “ah, yes. i had forgotten that i’m not just an adopted son but a hostage in this palace.”

his demeanor hardened as he rode further into the palace grounds. the vast courtyard stretched out before him, the silence heavy with the weight of his impending actions. he dismounted with a grace that belied the storm brewing within him. his hand moved to his sword, and in a swift, decisive motion, he drew it from its sheath.

the courtyard was filled with startled gasps as namjoon took a swing and, to everyone’s horror, struck his horse. the animal reared up, a cry of pain escaping its throat before collapsing to the ground, lifeless. the suddenness of the act stunned everyone into silence. the scene was one of utter shock, with onlookers frozen in place, their eyes wide with a mix of disbelief and fear.

a soldier stepped forward, his voice trembling as he stuttered, “your highness, you’re not allowed to carry a sword inside the palace.” he extended his hand, a gesture that seemed both hesitant and necessary. namjoon’s expression remained unchanged, his eyes cold and unyielding. without a word, he handed over the sword, the metal gleaming ominously as it was taken from him. the soldier, still visibly shaken, added, “i will prepare a horse for your departure.”

namjoon’s response was delivered with an unyielding finality. “i won’t be going back,” he declared, his voice echoing with a resolve that left no room for further discussion. he wasn’t going back, he wasn’t going to allow himself to return to shinju as a hostage.

the world around you began to coalesce into something more tangible as you slowly regained consciousness. the first thing you noticed was the softness of the bed beneath you. it was an opulent four-poster, draped in rich, dark fabrics that exuded an air of both comfort and grandeur. the room was lit by the soft glow of an oil lamp, and the furnishings, though elegant, felt strangely foreign.

you groaned softly, your head throbbing with an intensity that made it difficult to focus. the pain was sharp and persistent, a constant reminder of the disorienting turn your life had taken. as you attempted to sit up, a woman in traditional attire entered the room, her presence graceful and composed. she had an air of authority about her, and she approached with a concerned expression.

“nabi,” she said, her voice gentle yet firm. the name felt like an intrusion into your fragile state of awareness, and you looked up at her with a mixture of confusion and frustration.

“what do you mean, nabi?” you asked, your voice strained. “i’m (y/n) (l/n).” the declaration felt weak even as you spoke it, and you noticed the woman’s eyes widening in surprise. the woman’s face reflected a mix of shock and disbelief. “you’re not nabi?” she repeated, her tone tinged with uncertainty. her gaze darted between you and the door, as though she were expecting someone else to appear.

realization dawned on you, and a sudden, albeit delirious, laugh escaped your lips. “oh right, i died. i must be dead,” you said with a half-hearted chuckle. the absurdity of the situation hit you again, and your mind raced to piece together the fragments of your memories.

chayeon stepped into the room, her expression a mix of relief and exasperation. “no, you didn’t die,” she clarified. “you had a near miss, and we brought you here for safety.” her words did little to alleviate your confusion, and you blurted out, “i didn’t die?” your sense of reality felt tenuous, and your panic surged.

you swung your legs over the edge of the bed and stumbled toward the door, the pounding in your head growing louder with every step. the sight that greeted you outside was both breathtaking and bewildering. you found yourself in a spacious courtyard, surrounded by traditional architecture that spoke of a bygone era. the buildings were constructed with ornate wooden beams, their roofs sweeping gracefully upward in elegant curves. the lush greenery and tranquil garden added to the sense of otherworldly calm.

the unfamiliarity of the scene only heightened your alarm. “where am I?” you wondered aloud, your voice trembling with a mix of anxiety and confusion. you turned back to lady ja, who had followed you out of the room, and pleaded for clarification.

her gaze softened with a mixture of pity and patience. “you are at the residence of the eighth prince, wang chwe hansol, in songak,” she explained. the name rang a distant bell in your memory, but the pieces were still not fitting together. as the words sank in, a realization began to form in your mind. “songak?” you repeated, the name resonating with a sense of historical significance. “is this goryeo?” the question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of historical context.

lady ja nodded, her expression confirming your growing suspicion. “yes,” she said, “the current king is taejo wang geon, the founder of goryeo.” her words struck a chord with you, and the implications of what she was saying began to crystallize.

the recognition hit you like a wave. songak was indeed the old capital city of goryeo. you were not just in a different place but in a different time altogether. the realization was both thrilling and terrifying. you had somehow been transported into the past, into the very era of taejo wang geon’s reign. the weight of the revelation was almost too much to bear. your surroundings, the people, the architecture—all of it was a vivid testament to a historical period you had only known through books and tales. you stood there, trying to come to terms with the fact that you had somehow come into someone else’s body, into a world that was both rich in history and utterly foreign to you.

lady ja’s voice broke through your thoughts. “think hard about where you are,” she urged gently. “this is the residence of prince haneul, and we must ensure that you are properly cared for.” you nodded numbly, your mind still grappling with the enormity of your situation. as you took in the sights of the palace, the historical context of your predicament began to settle into place. the world around you was not merely a fantastical dream but a reality rooted in a time long past.

the throne room of the goryeo palace was a place of imposing grandeur and intricate design. richly adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of historical triumphs, the walls of the room gleamed with polished wood and gold accents. the vast chamber was dominated by the throne itself, a majestic seat of authority, intricately carved and elevated on a dais.

king taejo wang geon presided over the court with a gravity befitting his esteemed position. his regal presence commanded attention, his robes a cascade of deep, rich colors that spoke of both power and tradition. at his side were the six princes, each seated in a manner that reflected their rank and status. however, the fourth prince, namjoon, was notably absent from this gathering, his absence a conspicuous gap in the otherwise well-ordered assembly.

the tension in the room was palpable as an official presented a dead bird, its lifeless form displayed for all to see. the bird had fallen dead after a single bite from the crown prince’s breakfast, an unsettling testament to possible tampering. the sight of the dead creature stirred murmurs of concern among those in attendance.

king taejo's gaze was sharp and unwavering as he addressed the issue. “find the culprit responsible for this heinous act,” he commanded, his voice echoing with the weight of authority. the room fell into a hushed silence as the gravity of the situation sank in.

amidst the tension, jackson wang, a cousin of the king, stepped forward with a calculated expression. his tone was smooth yet insistent. “your majesty,” he began, “i must speak. there are growing concerns about the crown prince, wang taehyung. rumors suggest that he suffers from an incurable disease, and some believe he is unfit to assume the throne.” the words hung in the air, charged with implications. his proposal was audacious, but not without precedent in the power struggles of the royal court. he entreatied taejo to consider dethroning wang taehyung and replacing him with another prince. the notion of replacing the crown prince was met with a mix of surprise and unease from those present.

outside the throne room, crown prince taehyung himself arrived just in time to overhear jackson’s suggestion. his expression was one of barely contained frustration and hurt, his position at the heart of the debate adding to his evident distress. he hesitated at the door, his mind racing as he tried to piece together the gravity of the situation. inside the throne room, king taejo turned his attention to the remaining princes, his gaze probing and expectant. “do any of you agree with wang jackson’s proposal?” he asked, his voice laced with the tension of the moment. “is there anyone among you who would like to see the crown prince replaced?”

the princes exchanged glances, their reactions a mix of anxiety and discomfort. some avoided eye contact, while others looked visibly taken aback by the king’s question. the atmosphere was thick with uncertainty as they weighed their options, each one acutely aware of the delicate nature of the discussion.

the eighth prince was the first to break the silence. with a calm yet resolute demeanor, hansol moved forward and knelt before the king. “your majesty,” he said earnestly, “i beseech you to reconsider these words. there is no one among us who wishes to replace crown prince tae. we are united in our belief that he is the rightful heir.” his plea was followed swiftly by the thirteenth prince, who also approached the throne and knelt. “i too implore you, your majesty, to retract this proposal. crown prince taehyung is our leader, and we support him wholeheartedly.”

third prince chaehee was next to kneel, his actions reflecting the collective sentiment of the princes. his expression was guarded, but his voice carried a sense of urgency as he added his support to the plea. the younger princes, recognizing the shift in the room, followed suit. they too knelt, their voices merging in a unified plea for the king to reconsider. “please, your majesty,” they said in chorus, “do not dismiss crown prince taehyung. he is deserving of his position.”

in the midst of this fervent display of loyalty, king taejo called forth his esteemed astrologer and fortune-reader, choi jisoo. the elderly man, dressed in robes adorned with celestial patterns, approached the throne with a measured step. he began his explanation with a reverent tone, his words flowing with the weight of ancient knowledge. “the stars,” he began, “do not indicate that the crown prince is unfit. instead, they reveal a future filled with promise and stability. the alignment of the stars suggests that crown prince tae is destined to lead with wisdom and strength.”

the king listened intently as he continued to elaborate on the celestial omens, his confidence in the prince’s future unwavering. the explanations of the stars, combined with the united front of the princes, seemed to sway the king’s judgment.

king taejo’s expression softened as he addressed the court. “i have heard your pleas,” he declared. “i reaffirm that crown prince taehyung will take the leading position in the upcoming rites. his position is secure, and he shall fulfill his duties as our future sovereign.” the room erupted into a murmur of relief and approval, but not all were pleased with the outcome. hyun’s expression darkened, a subtle shift in his demeanor betraying his displeasure. his eyes, though fleetingly narrowed, reflected a deep-seated discontent, suggesting that the issue was far from resolved.

in the lavishly adorned quarters of queen jiyoung, the air was filled with an opulent serenity. the queen's residence was a realm of understated luxury, with delicate silks draped over intricately carved wooden screens and the gentle flicker of oil lamps casting soft shadows across the richly decorated walls. the fragrance of jasmine and sandalwood mingled, creating an atmosphere of calm and refinement.

jiyoung, seated gracefully at a low, ornate table, was engaged in conversation with chaehee, her expression one of composed interest. her attire, resplendent in hues of deep purple and gold, emphasized her status and authority. the intricate embroidery on her gown depicted scenes of serene landscapes and mythical creatures, adding to her regal bearing.

“i must admit, chaehee,” she said, her voice smooth yet laced with an edge of surprise, “i didn't expect crown prince taehyung to emerge from this latest crisis unscathed. i had anticipated that his position would be in jeopardy, particularly with the evidence presented against him.”

chaehee, standing by her side with an air of practiced deference, offered a sympathetic smile. “your majesty, it seems the king has decided to keep the crown prince in his position for now. the princes’ pleas and the astrologer’s predictions seem to have swayed him.” her gaze hardened slightly, her fingers drumming lightly on the surface of the table.

a court lady approached with a respectful bow, interrupting their conversation. “your majesty,” she began, her voice tentative, “there is a visitor outside requesting an audience. he has been waiting for some time.” jiyoung’s expression shifted to one of irritation. “a visitor? at this hour? who could it be?” her tone was sharp, revealing her displeasure at the interruption.

the court lady hesitated before responding. “it is your son, prince namjoon, your majesty. he has been waiting outside for your presence.”

jiyoung’s irritation grew palpable. her sons were often seen as pawns in the grand scheme of palace politics, and the timing of this interruption seemed particularly inconvenient. “prince namjoon?” she repeated, her voice tinged with frustration. “i have no time for such distractions right now. tell him to leave. i am not to be disturbed.” the court lady bowed deeply, her face a mask of regret as she turned to deliver the message. “yes, your majesty,” she said, her voice carrying the weight of her duty.

the night descended upon songak with a veil of darkness, its silence broken only by the occasional rustle of the wind against the palace walls. within the confines of your room, the atmosphere was heavy with a sense of desolation and uncertainty. You had locked yourself away, seeking refuge in the solitude of the opulent space, but it offered little solace.

the room was adorned with luxurious fabrics and furnishings, yet the grandeur did little to dispel the turmoil within you. you huddled on the edge of the bed, wrapped in the silken covers but feeling cold and detached. your mind replayed the events of the day with haunting clarity. the dead bird, the tense courtroom, and the disturbing reality of your situation all blended into a nightmarish haze.

as you shivered beneath the covers, you grappled with the reality of your existence. “did i die in the water that day?” you wondered aloud, your voice trembling in the quiet room. the thought that your host body, nabi, might have met the same fate only compounded your anxiety. the idea that you had somehow taken on nabi’s life in this strange, historical world was both disorienting and terrifying.

“am i (y/n) (l/n), or nabi?” you questioned, your voice barely more than a whisper. the realization that you were living someone else’s life was an unsettling one. yet, amidst the confusion, you decided to view this as a stroke of fortune—a new chance at life, albeit in a form you had not anticipated. if you were to continue as nabi, you resolved to make the most of the unexpected opportunity.

the enormity of your predicament loomed over you. despite your determination, you were acutely aware of how little you knew about goryeo. the intricacies of the court, the historical context, and even the line of succession were mysteries to you. you weren’t even sure which king followed taejo. your attempt to guess was a shot in the dark, and you feared it might be embarrassingly wrong. as you sat brooding, the soft murmur of voices reached your ears from outside the door. prince hansol had returned home, and you could hear him speaking with his wife, lady ja. their conversation was laden with concern.

“she was in the water for two hours before resurfacing,” lady ja was saying, her tone filled with worry. “she was like a corpse. we fear she might harm herself.” chayeon’s voice joined the conversation, her words carrying a hint of distress. “she lost her memory. we don’t know what to do.”

the weight of their concern seemed to seep through the walls, intensifying your sense of isolation. lady ja’s anxiety was palpable, and the thought of harming yourself felt like a grim possibility. the fear that you might be beyond help was overwhelming. suddenly, the door to your room was thrust open with a force that startled you. standing in the doorway was hansol, his face etched with a deep concern. his presence was commanding, yet there was a softness in his eyes that belied his authoritative stance.

“please, don’t be scared,” hansol said firmly, his voice cutting through the fog of your confusion. “i brought you here, so i will help you through to the end.”

he extended his hand toward you, his gesture a lifeline in the midst of your turmoil. he brought you there? what exactly did he mean by that? the sight of his outstretched hand seemed to pierce through the haze of your thoughts. you looked at it, feeling a mix of desperation and resolve. the prospect of remaining in this strange new world was daunting, but the notion of giving up was even more so. despite the uncertainty, a new wave of determination surged within you. the realization that you could not go back or change your appearance fueled a newfound resolve to face the challenges ahead. you took a deep breath, gathering your strength, and reached out to grasp his hand.

as your fingers closed around his, a sense of commitment and hope took root. hansol’s grip was firm and reassuring, offering a semblance of stability in the midst of your disorientation. you looked up at him, your heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination. “i trust you,” you said, your voice steady despite the lingering tremor of uncertainty. “’i want to make sense of this life.”

namjoon’s mind drifted back through the fog of time, to a moment of clarity from his childhood. the memory was etched into his mind with a precision that made it feel as though it had happened only yesterday. he was a young boy then, barely old enough to understand the gravity of the world around him. the palace, once a place of warmth and familial affection, had turned cold and unwelcoming. the loss of the crown prince, taejo and jiyoung’s firstborn, had cast a shadow over the entire court. the death had shaken the very foundation of their lives, leaving behind a void that seemed impossible to fill.

jiyoung’s grief was intense, her sorrow a constant, gnawing presence that colored her every interaction. she had been inconsolable, a stark contrast to the determined, almost clinical demeanor of king taejo. the queen’s eyes, once so full of life, were now heavy with an unspoken anguish. her hands, which had once cradled her child with tender care, now trembled with a mix of rage and despair.

in the aftermath of the tragedy, taejo had made a decision that seemed both practical and cold-hearted. he sought to fortify the kingdom’s borders through another marriage, a strategic move intended to bolster alliances and strengthen the realm. the political implications of his choice were clear, but to the grieving queen, they were an affront to her sorrow. as the king prepared to finalize his decision, the palace was awash with tension. jiyoung, her face streaked with tears and resolve, confronted him.

her voice was a strained whisper, laden with desperation. “how can you even consider another marriage?” she demanded. “do you not feel any sadness? is our loss so easily forgotten?” taejo responded with an unsettling calmness. “my decisions are guided by the needs of the kingdom,” he said. “this marriage is necessary for the security of our borders. it’s not a matter of personal grief.”

the queen’s eyes flashed with a dangerous intensity. her hand clenched around a small, ornate dagger, a symbol of her resolve. “you will choose between your marriage and your son,” she declared, her voice trembling with a mix of fury and anguish. she seized namjoon, who stood beside her, and pressed the dagger against his young throat.

the king’s face darkened, a storm of conflicting emotions crossing his features. “this won’t stop my decision,” he warned, his voice edged with a steely resolve. “you cannot use our son as leverage.” the tension in the room reached a breaking point. rhe queen’s grip on the dagger tightened, her face a mask of defiant rage. with a sudden, violent movement, she raised her hand, intent on striking out in her desperation.

taejo acted swiftly, his hand grasping her wrist in a desperate bid to prevent the impending violence. but the queen was resolute, wrenching her arm free from his grasp. in the struggle, the dagger’s blade sliced across namjoon’s young face. the sharp edge cut through flesh, spraying blood in a sudden, horrifying arc. hansol rushed forward in a panic. his eyes widened in horror as he saw the blood seeping from namjoon’s wound, the child’s face contorted in pain and shock. the sight was etched into his memory as he reached out, his own face pale and stricken.

years later, the mask namjoon wore was a constant reminder of that night, a physical manifestation of the emotional scars he carried. the memory of that moment—the struggle, the pain, and the betrayal—was a shadow that lingered in his past, shaping his present in ways both seen and unseen. the mask, more than a protective covering, was a symbol of the emotional wounds that had never truly healed.

as dawn crept over songak, its light filtered gently through the silk curtains of your chamber, casting a soft glow across the opulent furnishings. you emerged from the cocoon of your blankets, your mind still tangled in the disarray of your new reality. chaeyeon arrived promptly to escort you around the grounds, her demeanor a blend of professionalism and sympathy. the palace grounds were a sprawling expanse of beauty and grandeur, with meticulously manicured gardens, serene water features, and stately buildings that spoke of the power and wealth of the dynasty. the scent of blooming flowers and the soft rustle of leaves in the morning breeze created an atmosphere of tranquility.

chaeyeon led you with practiced ease, her steps light and graceful. she spoke with a calm, informative tone, filling you in on the details of your life as nabi. “this is the western garden,” she said, gesturing to a lush area adorned with vibrant flora. “you used to spend a great deal of time here, enjoying the serenity. and over there,” she pointed towards a grand pavilion, “is where you and lady ja often held tea parties.”

you nodded, feigning familiarity with the surroundings. “it’s all starting to come back to me,” you said, though internally you struggled to piece together the fragmented information. the “amnesia” you claimed was a convenient cover for your ignorance, allowing you to absorb details about your new identity without raising suspicion.

chaeyeon’s eyes narrowed slightly, her gaze scrutinizing you with a hint of suspicion. “are you certain you’re not faking your condition?” she asked, her tone laced with concern. “perhaps you had a secret relationship with someone or incurred a debt that might explain your current state.”

the accusation took you aback, and you paused, considering her words. “did nabi have a secret life?” you mused aloud. “was she someone who acted one way in public and another behind closed doors?” chaeyeon’s eyes widened slightly, her suspicion momentarily replaced by concern. “nabi was always so quiet and reserved,” she said, shaking her head. “it’s hard to believe she would have done anything underhanded.”

your tendency to refer to yourself in the third person seemed to convince chaeyeon of your genuine amnesia. she softened her stance, though her gaze remained thoughtful. “if you truly don’t remember, then we’ll have to help you piece together the fragments of your past,” she said, her voice gentler now. you sighed inwardly, recognizing the futility of explaining that you were merely inhabiting someone else’s body. the truth was far too complex to convey, and the best course of action was to continue with the pretense of amnesia.

as you walked alongside her, your gaze fell upon the distant river that meandered through the palace grounds. across it, you could see prince hansol and lady ja enjoying a quiet moment together. hansol’s attention towards his wife was marked by an evident tenderness, his every gesture reflecting a deep affection. curiosity piqued, you asked chaeyeon, “what can you tell me about prince hansol?”

her face lit up with pride as she spoke of him. “prince chwe hansol is truly the finest man in all of goryeo,” she said, her voice brimming with admiration. “he is often regarded as the one who should have been the first prince. his wisdom and kindness are unmatched, and he is deeply loved by all who know him.” you absorbed her words with a mix of relief and contemplation. from your limited historical knowledge, you wondered if he was the prince who later became king gwangjong.

as you continued to observe the serene interaction between hansol and lady ja across the river, you found yourself lost in thought, the quiet affection between the couple stirring something within you. the tranquility of the moment was abruptly shattered by the sharp voice of a woman you hadn’t noticed approaching.

“how dare you stare so rudely?” she snapped, her voice cutting through the calm like a blade. you turned to face the intruder, immediately noting her keen, almost predatory eyes. “being lady ja’s cousin is no excuse for such impropriety.”

before you could respond, chaeyeon quickly bowed low and urgently nudged you to do the same. “princess seulgi,” she whispered in warning, her tone laced with anxiety. princess seulgi, you thought, sizing up the woman before you. her posture was rigid, her gaze unyielding, and her expression one of barely concealed disdain. there was an air of superiority about her, as if she expected the world to bend to her whims. despite chaeyeon’s subtle attempts to pacify the situation, hana’s eyes never left you, narrowing slightly in irritation.

with a voice sweetened by insincerity, she said, “it’s such a shame, nabi, that you seem to have forgotten your manners along with your memory. you could stand to relearn quite a few things, it seems.”

the condescension in her tone was unmistakable, and you felt your irritation bubble to the surface. internally, you grumbled at her haughty attitude, unwilling to be cowed by her status. so, with a bright, wide smile, you met her gaze and replied, “if you dislike me, princess, just say so.” for a moment, silence hung between you, thick with tension. hana’s eyes widened in shock, her sharp tongue momentarily stilled by your audacity. she had likely expected you to cower or apologize, not to confront her so directly.

you continued, your voice steady and firm, “it’s clear you’re the type to bide your time, waiting for the perfect moment to swoop in with criticism. but that doesn’t work with me.” seulgi’s shock quickly morphed into anger, her face flushing with indignation. “you insolent little—” she began, her voice rising as she spat out, “bitch!”

you raised your voice right back, ready to escalate the argument further. but just as the tension reached its peak, a commanding presence interrupted. “enough.” the single word, spoken in a calm yet authoritative tone, immediately silenced the room. you and hana both turned to see hansol approaching, his expression unreadable but his mere presence enough to quell the brewing storm.

he stepped between you and the princess, his gaze settling on you as he urged you to walk with him, toward the library. “nabi,” he began, his voice softening slightly, “it seems you’ve forgotten the proper way to greet a member of the royal family.” you felt a rush of embarrassment as the reality of the situation dawned on you. bowing hurriedly, you tried to recover, offering a modern and awkward, “hello.”

the corner of hansol’s mouth twitched slightly in what could have been amusement, though his expression remained mostly neutral. “i suppose your amnesia means you don’t remember much at all,” he mused, his tone more curious than accusatory. “including whether you’ve peeped on the princes’ bath before or after you lost your memory.” caught off guard by his question, you struggled to form a coherent response, heat rising to your cheeks. “i don’t remember,” you admitted, feeling the weight of his scrutiny.

hansol didn’t press further, his gaze thoughtful as he considered you. “what is it that you want to do with yourself now, nabi?” he asked. there was a sincerity in his tone, as if he genuinely wanted to help you find your place. “i brought you here when you first accompanied lady ja, and i intend to look after you. but i need to know what you wish for your future.” his concern surprised you. you hadn’t expected him to take such an interest, especially given that you were technically a stranger in this body. yet, there was a part of you that wondered why he would go to such lengths, even if you were related to his wife.

determined to assert some control over your situation, you squared your shoulders and said, “i’ll take care of myself, your highness.” the words came out more confidently than you felt, but you were resolved to prove that you weren’t a burden. he seemed taken aback by your response, his brows knitting together slightly in confusion. your modernisms, the casual way you spoke, must have seemed strange to him. “you’ll take care of yourself?” he repeated, as if trying to understand your meaning.

realizing your mistake, you quickly added, “what i mean is, i’ll find a way to live here and be of use. i don’t want to be a burden.” his expression softened again, though a hint of concern lingered. “very well,” he said, his voice gentle but firm. “but you must understand that you’re not alone here. we all have roles to play, and we’ll help you find yours.”

as he spoke, he moved around the room, his steps measured and deliberate. you followed him, your eyes tracing the lines of the bookshelves that lined the walls. the library was grand, filled with volumes that spoke of a rich history you barely understood.

“i have many talents,” you blurted out, trying to reassure both him and yourself. “i’ll find a way to make myself useful, i promise.” you nearly ran into him as he stopped abruptly, turning to face you. his closeness made you tense, the air between you charged with a subtle, unspoken tension. he studied you intently, his gaze searching for something in your eyes.

“you seem like someone else,” he observed quietly, the weight of his words sinking deep into your consciousness. you were flustered by his remark, unsure how to respond. but before you could speak, he continued, “it doesn’t matter who you were before, nabi. what matters is how you move forward now.” his words were a comfort, a reminder that while your situation was strange and frightening, you had a chance to shape your own path.

“i won’t ask further about your memory,” he added, his tone gentle. “but you must not worry lady ja any further. she cares deeply for you, and so do i.” you nodded quickly, agreeing to his terms. “i won’t,” you promised, feeling a renewed determination to adapt to this life. with that, he dismissed you, and you ran off, your mind buzzing with everything that had transpired. as you left the library, you couldn’t shake the feeling that hansol saw through you, that he knew there was something fundamentally different about you.

as namjoon roamed the dimly lit library, his fingers traced the spines of countless books that lined the shelves. the scent of old paper and ink hung heavy in the air, a quiet reminder of the knowledge stored within these walls. the books there were far from ordinary, though—jisoo’s collection was infamous for its peculiar and often forbidden contents. namjoon’s sharp eyes quickly zeroed in on a particular shelf, one that seemed to be tucked away more carefully than the others. his lips curled into a smirk as he pulled out a slender, well-worn volume, its cover unassuming save for the faint, faded title that promised scandalous secrets within.

he flipped through the pages, his amusement growing with each explicit passage. lost in the irony, he didn’t notice jisoo’s approach until the man was practically breathing down his neck. “enjoying the collection?” his voice was light, almost teasing. his presence was like a shadow, creeping up without warning, and it made namjoon’s grip tighten on the book.

namjoon didn’t bother to hide the volume he was holding. he met jisoo’s gaze with a lazy smirk. “you’ve got an interesting taste. planning on lending me these?” jisoo’s eyes glittered with amusement, though the smile on his lips was sharp. “if it suits your fancy, i’d be more than happy to let you borrow them. but something tells me you’re not here just for a light read.”

namjoon’s expression hardened, and he snapped the book shut with a decisive clap. “why was i called here?”

jisoo didn’t seem perturbed by the shift in his tone. he folded his arms and leaned back against the nearest shelf, his posture relaxed yet calculating. “the court lady who prepared crown prince taehyung’s breakfast was found hanged this morning. a curious case, given that it’s rather difficult to hang oneself in such a manner.” namjoon’s eyes narrowed. “a suicide, then?”

jisoo shook his head, his gaze darkening. “not quite. a death staged as a suicide, which suggests the involvement of someone who knows their way around the palace. someone with the means to silence her before she could speak.” namjoon’s smirk faded as he absorbed the implications. “you’re suggesting it’s someone within the royal family. perhaps even a prince.”

jisoo nodded, his expression grave. “that’s exactly what i’m suggesting. and you’re the one I want to find the culprit.” namjoon let out a low, humorless laugh. “what am i, a dog now? people keep calling me a wolf, and you must think i’ve actually become one.”

jisoo’s gaze remained steady, unflinching. “you’ve spent years in the shadow of this court, namjoon, watching and learning. no one knows the intrigues here better than you.” he turned away, pacing slowly between the shelves, his thoughts churning. “i’m a hostage, jisoo, not a hound to be sent sniffing out conspiracies.”

jisoo’s voice followed him, cool and measured. “maybe you were. but that display earlier—killing your horse in front of everyone—that wasn’t the act of a hostage. it was the act of a man who no longer wants to live as one.” namjoon halted, his back to jisoo, his fists clenching at his sides. the truth of those words stung, even as they ignited a flicker of something deep within him—a desire for something more, something beyond the chains that had bound him for so long.

he continued, his tone coaxing, “if you fulfill this task, it could be your chance to claim that freedom you’re so desperate for.” namjoon remained silent, weighing the offer. the idea of being free, of no longer living under the constant threat of being used as a pawn, was tempting. but the risk was high, and the stakes higher still. it was then that jisoo dropped the final piece of information, his voice softening almost imperceptibly. “it was crown prince taehyung who requested this investigation.”

namjoon’s breath caught in his throat, and he turned slowly to face jisoo. “taehyung?” he echoed, his voice laced with disbelief. before he could respond, the door to the library creaked open, and tae stepped inside. his presence was commanding, even in the quiet, scholarly atmosphere of the room. he was dressed in the formal robes befitting his station, though there was an air of exhaustion about him, as if the weight of the crown was already pressing down heavily on his shoulders.

“crown prince taehyung.” namjoon bowed his head slightly, though his eyes remained on the prince, searching for answers. taehyung’s expression was calm, but his eyes betrayed a flicker of unease. “namjoon,” he greeted, his voice steady despite the tension that hung in the air. “i’m glad you’re here.”

jisoo stepped forward, his tone shifting to one of deference. “your highness, i’ve informed him of the situation.” tae nodded, his gaze never leaving namjoon. “there have been whispers of an assassination attempt during the upcoming rites. if those whispers are true, i need someone I can trust to root out the traitor before it’s too late.”

namjoon’s eyes narrowed as he considered the prince’s words. this was more than just palace intrigue—it was a matter of life and death. “and if i succeed?” he asked, his voice low, careful. tae met his gaze squarely, the gravity of the situation reflected in his eyes. “if you find the one responsible, i’ll give you anything you ask for.” namjoon’s heart pounded in his chest as the possibilities raced through his mind. this was his chance—his chance to finally step out from the shadows and take control of his own destiny. but he wasn’t about to make it easy for him.

“anything?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of challenge. taehyung didn’t flinch. “anything.”

namjoon let the silence stretch between them for a moment before he spoke, his voice steady and clear. “i want to live here, permanently.”

taehyung’s eyes widened slightly, the request taking him by surprise. he had expected namjoon to ask for land, titles, perhaps even power. but the capital, along with a wife, that was a different kind of demand altogether. “done,” he said after a moment, his voice firm with resolve. “if you find the culprit, i’ll see to it that you’re granted a permanent residence in songak.”

the ladies of hansol’s household bustled around the courtyard, their nimble fingers busy at work crafting delicate lanterns shaped like flowers. the air was filled with the scent of freshly cut paper and the faint tang of glue, mingling with the laughter and chatter of the women. each one of them worked with a practiced ease, folding and cutting the colored paper with precision to create intricate designs. you, however, were utterly hopeless at it. no matter how hard you tried, your fingers fumbled with the delicate materials, and your lanterns came out misshapen and clumsy.

it wasn’t long before princess seulgi took notice. her sharp eyes caught every flaw, every misstep, and she wasn’t one to let them slide. “it seems your amnesia has taken more from you than just your memory,” she remarked, her tone laced with disdain as she inspected your work. she held up one of your malformed creations with a look of barely concealed disgust. “this is hardly suitable for the rites.”

you bit back a retort, feeling your frustration rise. it was bad enough that you were struggling with those tasks, but having seulgi point out your failures so openly stung even more. still, you were determined to prove yourself, to show that you weren’t as useless as she made you feel. “i can still help,” you insisted, trying to keep the desperation out of your voice.

she raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a mocking smile. “very well,” she said, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “since you’re so eager to contribute, why don’t you make the glue for us?”

you didn’t miss the challenge in her tone, nor the way the other ladies exchanged glances, their expressions tinged with pity. making glue was a dirty job, often relegated to the lowest servants, but you swallowed your pride and nodded. “i’ll do it,” you replied, trying to sound confident.

the task was every bit as grueling as she had intended. you were sent outside, away from the cool shade of the courtyard, to work under the sun. the thick, sticky mixture of rice flour and water required constant stirring to keep it from burning, and the heat made the air feel heavy and oppressive. your arms ached from the effort, and sweat dripped down your forehead, but you pushed through, determined not to give seulgi the satisfaction of seeing you falter.

at one point, you paused to stretch, your body protesting the repetitive motion. you leaned back, stretching your arms overhead and bending at the waist to relieve the tension in your muscles. the movement was hardly graceful, but you were too focused on easing your discomfort to care. it wasn’t until you straightened up that you noticed hansol standing a short distance away, his gaze fixed on you with a mixture of amusement and disbelief. you froze, feeling a flush of embarrassment rise to your cheeks. the thought of hansol watching you as you contorted yourself in such an ungainly manner made you want to shrink into the ground. quickly, you turned back to the pot of glue, resuming your stirring with renewed vigor. “the princess put me to this task,” you explained, trying to sound nonchalant despite your awkwardness.

hansol’s lips twitched in a barely suppressed smile. “i see you’re demonstrating your many talents,” he said, his tone dry as he echoed your earlier words. you couldn’t help but laugh, despite yourself. “yes, well, i suppose i should have specified that glue-making wasn’t one of them,” you replied, shaking your head at the absurdity of the situation. he chuckled softly, the sound warm and genuine. for a moment, the tension between you eased, and you found yourself feeling grateful for his presence. but before you could say more, he was called away by one of the other princes, leaving you to your task once more.

later in the day, the princes gathered to prepare for the upcoming rites, practicing a ceremonial sword dance that required both grace and precision. tenth prince baekhyun was by far the worst at the dance. his movements were stiff, his timing off, and after several failed attempts to keep up with the others, he finally threw down his sword in frustration. “this is pointless,” he muttered, his tone sulky as he stalked off to the side, clearly in no mood to continue.

the other princes paused, taking a break from their practice. ninth prince yeosang, took the opportunity to speak up. “is it true that the king intends to abdicate his throne to crown prince tae after the ceremony?” the question hung in the air, bringing everyone up short. even the most practiced of the princes couldn’t hide their surprise at the boldness of his inquiry. all eyes turned to jisoo, who had been observing the practice from a distance.

jisoo’s expression was unreadable as he responded. “i know nothing of the sort,” he said carefully, his tone giving nothing away. but his non-answer only fueled the tension. hansol frowned at yeosang, his voice low and admonishing. “you were foolish to say that, kwan. the king must not hear such rumors.” third prince chaehee crossed his arms and spoke up. “we’re all curious, hansol. and it’s not yeosang’s fault for asking. besides, jisoo didn’t exactly deny it outright.” the tension among the princes was intense, each of them silently weighing the implications of the question.

exhausted from the day’s work, you decided to rest outside, hoping to clear your mind. as you leaned back against a tree, you noticed a familiar figure walking by, his robes fluttering slightly in the breeze. it was jisoo, the court astrologer—and, you realized with a start, the hobo from the pier. the recognition hit you like a lightning bolt, and without thinking, you leapt to your feet and took off after him.

“wait!” you called, your voice breathless as you darted through the courtyard. jisoo glanced over his shoulder, his eyes narrowing in recognition, and then he began to move faster, slipping through the narrow alleys of the city with practiced ease. you chased after him, your heart pounding in your chest, but he was always just out of reach, his figure disappearing around corners and ducking into shadows. finally, you lost sight of him altogether, standing in the middle of a busy street with no idea where he had gone. the disappointment was bitter, and you were about to turn back when the sound of hooves thundered through the air.

namjoon came riding furiously down the street, his horse galloping at a breakneck pace. villagers dove for cover as he barreled through, his expression set in a fierce scowl. you didn’t see him until the last moment, too distracted by your pursuit of jisoo to notice the danger. by the time you did, it was too late—you froze in the middle of the street, your eyes wide with shock as the horse bore down on you.

a peddler’s pack brushed against you, knocking you backward. you stumbled, arms flailing as you teetered on the edge of the ravine that bordered the street. the ground seemed to drop away beneath you, and you felt the sickening lurch of gravity pulling you down. panic surged through you, your mind racing with the realization that you were about to fall. but just as you began to tip over the edge, a strong hand shot out and grabbed you around the waist, pulling you up with a force that left you breathless. you were yanked into the saddle, your body pressed against namjoon’s as he steadied his horse with a firm grip. for a moment, you could only cling to him, your heart pounding in your chest as the adrenaline coursed through your veins. the world spun around you, the near-fall leaving you shaken and disoriented.

you stared up at namjoon, wide-eyed and breathless, your fingers clinging desperately to his robe as the horse thundered through the city streets. the wind whipped through your hair, your heart still pounding from the near fall into the ravine. for a moment, all you could focus on was the intensity of namjoon’s face—the sharp line of his jaw, the cool indifference in his left eye, the slight frown that seemed permanently etched into his brow. it was as if he held the world at arm’s length, letting nothing and no one touch him. the ride was brief but harrowing. you felt the rhythm of the horse’s hooves beneath you, the power of its muscles as it responded to namjoon’s every command. you wondered, not for the first time, what it would take to unearth a flicker of emotion from him, something other than the stoic mask he wore so effortlessly.

finally, namjoon slowed the horse, bringing it to a halt just outside the palace gates. the sudden stop jolted you from your thoughts, and you blinked up at him, still gripping his robe as if it were a lifeline. his gaze flicked down to you, the barest hint of curiosity in his eyes, before he looked away. without warning, his arm released you, and you found yourself unceremoniously dumped onto the ground. you landed in an undignified heap, the breath knocked out of you as you hit the dirt. for a moment, you could only lie there, staring up at the sky in stunned disbelief.

“what the hell was that for?” you demanded, scrambling to your feet and glaring up at him. you dusted yourself off, your cheeks flushing with a mix of embarrassment and anger. “you could’ve at least helped me down like a normal person.” namjoon tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable as he regarded you. for a moment, you thought he might apologize—or at the very least, offer an explanation. instead, his lips quirked into a faint, mocking smile.

“perhaps i thought you’d enjoy the challenge,” he replied, his tone infuriatingly calm. you narrowed your eyes, not about to let him off the hook so easily. “you’re impossible, you know that? just because you ride in here like a—”

but before you could finish, namjoon clicked his tongue, and the horse reared up on its hind legs. you stumbled backward, losing your balance as the horse’s hooves pawed the air above you. panic surged through you, and you fell back onto the ground once more, landing with a hard thud. by the time you regained your composure, namjoon had already ridden off, the sound of his horse’s hooves echoing through the streets. you stared after him, fuming, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. he was insufferable, arrogant, and completely out of control.

“lady nabi, are you all right?” you turned to see chaeyeon hurrying toward you, her face etched with concern. she reached out to help you up, her hands warm and steady. “what happened? i saw you with prince namjoon just now.” you sighed, brushing off your clothes once more as you accepted her help. “it’s nothing. just a misunderstanding,” you muttered, trying to sound nonchalant despite your lingering irritation.

chaeyeon gave you a skeptical look but didn’t press further. instead, she glanced over her shoulder, as if worried someone might overhear. “princess seulgi is looking for you,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with urgency. “you should come quickly.”

with a nod, you followed her through the palace grounds, your mind still reeling from the encounter with namjoon. as you walked, she filled you in on the latest developments—apparently, seulgi was currently meeting with her brothers, or at least the six of them who got along. namjoon was noticeably absent, though it was clear from the tension in the air that his presence, or lack thereof, weighed heavily on the gathering.

by the time you reached the small courtyard where the meeting was taking place, you could already hear the low murmur of voices. the princes were discussing something in hushed tones, their expressions serious. as you and chaeyeon approached, you caught snippets of their conversation, the words charged with a sense of foreboding.

“…difficult to get along with him,” one of the princes was saying, his voice tinged with frustration. “he’s moody and unpredictable. it’s like walking on eggshells around him.” you recognized the speaker as tenth prince baekhyun, his youthful face twisted into a pout. his words were met with nods of agreement from the others, though no one seemed willing to voice their thoughts too openly.

just as he opened his mouth to continue, the door to the courtyard slid open with a soft thud. the princes fell silent, their eyes snapping to the entrance as namjoon stepped inside. the tension in the room was heavy, the air thick with unspoken worries. seulgi was the only one who looked pleased to see him, her face lighting up with a smile as she stood to greet him. “namjoon,” she said warmly, moving toward him with a graceful sweep of her robes. “i’m so glad you could join us.”

namjoon offered a polite nod. “it’s good to see you,” he said, though his voice lacked its usual warmth. but before he could say more, chaehee, the third prince, cut in with a smirk. “don’t try too hard with namjoon, brother. he understands the language of beasts better than people.”

the barb hung in the air, and the other princes stiffened, exchanging uneasy glances. even seulgi’s smile faltered slightly, her eyes darting between namjoon and chaehee, as if bracing for the fallout. but namjoon didn’t react as expected. instead, he simply met chaehee’s gaze with a calm, measured look. “ah,” he said softly, his voice as cool as ice, “that’s why i understand my brother’s words so well.”

the room went silent, the tension simmering beneath the surface. even the normally boisterous sang seemed cowed, his earlier bravado evaporating in the face of namjoon’s quiet menace. the princes exchanged uneasy glances, unsure of how to respond. at that moment, the maids entered the courtyard, carrying trays laden with snacks and refreshments. it was also your cue to join the gathering, though you hesitated, doing your best to hang back out of sight. the last thing you wanted was to draw attention to yourself, especially with namjoon’s unnerving presence so close by.

but your attempt to skulk behind a pillar didn’t go unnoticed. baekhyun caught sight of you and immediately zeroed in, his eyes narrowing as he tried to place why you seemed so familiar. “you there!” he called out, his voice ringing through the courtyard as he stepped closer. “i know you from somewhere, don’t I?”

you froze, your heart sinking as his gaze locked onto yours. he was right, of course—you had crossed paths before, but not in any way you wanted to be reminded of. you went cross-eyed in panic, silently praying that he wouldn’t figure it out. but he was nothing if not persistent. his brow furrowed as he racked his brain, and then his eyes lit up with recognition. “wait a minute, weren’t you the peeping tom at the baths?” the words hit you like a ton of bricks, and before you could stop yourself, you blurted out a denial. “no! absolutely not!”

but in your haste to deny the accusation, you stumbled backward, accidentally knocking into a maid carrying a tray. the tray wobbled precariously, and with a horrified gasp, you watched as the plateware went crashing to the ground, shattering into pieces with a deafening clatter. for a moment, the entire courtyard fell into a stunned silence. all eyes were on you—the princes, the maids, even chaeyeon—each one of them staring in varying degrees of shock and disbelief. seulgi’s expression darkened, her eyes narrowing as she took in the scene.

“what have you done?” her voice was low and cold, her tone cutting through the air like a knife. “are you truly so incompetent that you can’t even keep out of trouble for a single day?” faced with her anger and a roomful of staring princes, you felt a wave of mortification crash over you. the humiliation was too much to bear, and without thinking, you turned and bolted from the courtyard, your footsteps echoing off the stone walls as you fled. as you ran, you caught a glimpse of namjoon out of the corner of your eye. he was standing off to the side, his expression unreadable as he watched you go. but there was a flicker of something in his eyes—amusement, perhaps, or maybe something else entirely.

you ran through the palace corridors, your heart pounding in your chest. slowing your pace, you took a moment to lean against a column, forcing yourself to take deep, steadying breaths. “hang in there,” you whispered to yourself, willing your racing heart to calm. the palace, with its sprawling halls and myriad of secrets, was a dangerous place for someone like you—a place where one wrong move could mean disaster. but you couldn’t let yourself be consumed by fear or anger. you had to stay sharp.

as your breathing evened out, you heard footsteps echoing through the hallway. panic gripped you again as you realized who it was—baekhyun, the tenth prince. he was still convinced he recognized you correctly and was now on the prowl, searching for you. you quickly ducked behind a pillar, watching him from your hiding place. he moved with eagerness, his eyes scanning every nook and cranny as he walked. you bit your lip, hoping he would pass by without noticing you. then, he stopped in front of a door, peering through a small tear in the fabric that covered it.

you tensed, realizing where he was looking. on the other side of that door was chaeyeon, who had no idea she was being watched. baekhyun’s eyes widened with curiosity as he leaned in closer, clearly intrigued by what he was seeing. you felt a surge of anger. it was one thing to be an immature prince, but this—this was crossing a line.

before you could react, chaeyeon suddenly looked up and saw him. her eyes went wide with horror, and she let out a sharp scream that echoed through the hallway. the sound startled baekhyun, and he stumbled back from the door, his face pale with shock. without thinking, he turned and ran, his feet slipping on the polished floor as he tried to make a hasty escape. but he didn’t get far.

you stepped out from your hiding place, planting yourself firmly in his path. your eyes narrowed with determination, you crossed your arms over your chest, blocking his way. sang skidded to a stop, his expression a mixture of guilt and indignation. “what are you doing?” he blurted out, his voice cracking slightly as he tried to regain his composure. “move aside!”

you didn’t budge. “where do you think you’re going, prince baekhyun?” you asked, your voice stern, it almost sounded like a grandmother scolding an errant schoolboy. “you think you can just run off after what you did?”

his eyes darted around, as if looking for an escape route. “i didn’t do anything!” he protested, though his voice lacked conviction. “that slave—she’s lying! she can’t prove anything!” his mouth opened and closed as he fumbled for a response, but you cut him off, taking a step closer to him. “don’t lie, i saw it clearly,” you said, your voice firm. “what you did was wrong, and you need to apologize.”

the prince’s face twisted with a mix of outrage and disbelief. “apologize? to a slave?” he scoffed, his tone dripping with disdain. “i’m a prince! i don’t bow to the likes of her—or you, for that matter!” but you didn’t back down. “you may be a prince, but that doesn’t give you the right to treat people like that,” you shot back. “you owe her an apology, and i won’t let you leave until you give it.”

his eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you could see the childish petulance rising in him. he turned on his heel, determined to storm off, but you weren’t about to let him go that easily. you reached out and grabbed the edge of his cloak, pulling him back. “let go of me!” he shouted, trying to shake you off. he shoved you hard, and you stumbled back, crashing to the ground. the impact sent a fresh wave of anger surging through you, and as you sat there, stunned, you decided you’d had enough.

without a second thought, you lunged forward, grabbing him by the ankle and yanking him off balance. he yelped in surprise as he went down, flailing his arms in a futile attempt to stay upright. the two of you hit the ground with a thud, and before he could recover, you pounced on him, grabbing a fistful of his hair. “what are you—?” he began, but his words were cut off as you pulled his head back, your eyes blazing with fury.

“you think you can just shove me around and get away with it?” you growled, your voice low and dangerous. “i don’t care if you’re a prince—i’ll still kick your ass.” he tried to push you off, his hands scrabbling at your arms, but you held on tight, refusing to let go. his struggles only fueled your anger, and before you knew it, the two of you were engaged in a full-on tussle, rolling across the ground in a tangle of limbs.

baekhyun managed to get one arm around your neck, pulling you into a headlock, but you were too fired up to care. you twisted and turned, using every ounce of strength you had to break free. when his grip loosened for just a moment, you sank your teeth into his arm, biting down hard. “ow! you bit me!” he howled, letting go of you in shock. but before he could recover, you kicked him in the side, sending him sprawling onto his back. you didn’t give him a chance to get up. you climbed on top of him, your fists clenched, and started smacking him repeatedly.

“spoiled brat,” you hissed, each word punctuated by a slap. “you think you can do whatever you want, but i won’t let you! you’re a pervert, a peeping tom—” sang flinched with each blow, his hands raised in a feeble attempt to protect his face. “stop! you’re going to regret this!” he shouted, but his words only fueled your rage.

“i’ll regret it?” you spat, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “you’re the one who should be regretting everything. you think i’m going to let you get away with this? not a chance!” his eyes blazed with fury, but there was also a flicker of fear in them. “you won’t escape unscathed, you know that?” he warned, his voice trembling with a mix of anger and desperation.

but you were too caught up in your fury to care. you grabbed him by the collar, pulling him up so that your faces were inches apart. “we’ll see about that,” you hissed, before delivering a final, mighty head-butt. the impact stunned both of you, the force of it reverberating through your skull. baekhyun’s head snapped back, and he let out a pained groan, his eyes glazing over as he struggled to stay conscious. you, too, felt the dizziness wash over you, but you refused to let it show.

with him dazed beneath you, you rolled up your sleeve, ready to deliver a doozy of a slap that would leave a mark. but just as you were about to bring your hand down, a strong grip caught your wrist, stopping you mid-swing. you looked up, startled, and found yourself staring into the amused eyes of namjoon. his hand was wrapped around your wrist, holding it firmly but not painfully. he seemed almost entertained by the sight of you and sang sprawled out on the ground like children caught in a schoolyard brawl.

“what do you think you’re doing?” namjoon asked, his voice calm and composed, but with an undercurrent of amusement that made your blood boil even more. you gaped at him in surprise, struggling to find the words. “i—he—” you stammered, trying to pull your wrist free from his grasp, but namjoon’s hold was unyielding.

before you could say more, baekhyun, still reeling from the head-butt, tried to charge at you, his face twisted in anger. “let me go! she—she attacked me!” he yelled, his voice shaking with indignation. but hansol appeared just in time, stepping between the two of them with a stern expression. “that’s enough, baekhyun,” he said, his tone firm but not unkind. “there are eyes watching. we can’t afford to make a scene here.”

baekhyun glared at him, his chest heaving with fury, but he knew better than to argue with his elder brother. with a final huff of frustration, he flounced off, storming down the hallway in a fit. namjoon finally released your wrist, and you scrambled to your feet, your heart still pounding from the confrontation. you couldn’t believe what had just happened—the fight, the princes, and now namjoon, standing there with that infuriatingly calm expression.

you narrowed your eyes at him, the anger from before flaring up once more. “and what about you?” you demanded. the anger that had fueled your fight with sang still simmered beneath your skin, and now it was directed entirely at namjoon. “you’re not getting away without an apology.”

his brow arched, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a half-smile. “an apology?” he repeated, as if the concept was entirely foreign to him. “who are you to demand such a thing from me?” you squared your shoulders, refusing to be intimidated. “someone who deserves respect, that’s who,” you shot back. “or do you only apologize to people who share your bloodline? because if that’s the case, then maybe you should start practicing, seeing as you’re on such thin ice with your brothers.”

his eyes darkened at that, the playful glint disappearing as something more dangerous took its place. he stepped closer, towering over you, his presence suddenly more imposing. “so, if you’re a slave, i ignore you,” he murmured, his voice low and deliberate. “but if you were a princess, i’d bow at your feet? is that what you’re saying?”

you held your ground, though your heart was pounding in your chest. “i’m saying respect should be given regardless of status. but clearly, that’s a concept beyond your understanding.” for a moment, there was silence between you, the tension thick in the air. then, without warning, namjoon leaned in, his face inches from yours, his voice dropping to a whisper. “when i do apologize,” he said slowly, each word enunciated with chilling precision, “it means you’ll die.” before you could respond, namjoon turned on his heel and walked away, leaving you standing there, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind racing. his words echoed in your ears, the warning clear, but so too was the challenge.

the moon hung low in the sky, casting an ethereal glow over the palace grounds as you made your way to the bathing pools. the path was quiet, the only sounds your footsteps and the occasional rustle of leaves in the night breeze. the stillness of the night mirrored the turmoil within you. the jisoo man you’d seen earlier—was he real, or had your desperate mind conjured him from nothing? it felt like a sign, divine or otherwise, a spark of hope that there was a way to return home. you desperately needed to leave goryeo, especially with the looming punishment for hitting a prince hanging over your head. every step toward the bathing pools solidified your resolve. if there was even the slightest chance that jisoo held the key to your escape, you had to find him.

the pools were a serene sight, surrounded by tall trees that shielded them from the rest of the palace. you hesitated for a moment, peering into the dark waters before slipping into the pool. the water was cool, a refreshing contrast to the heat that had built up in your body from your frantic thoughts. you submerged yourself, holding your breath as long as you could, as if the water could wash away the fear and anxiety knotting in your chest. when you finally emerged, gasping for air, your eyes locked onto a figure standing at the edge of the pool.

namjoon. his mask was off, revealing the multitude of scars crisscrossing his back and torso, alongside the gash on his eye. the moonlight accentuated the lines of his disfigurement, a stark reminder of the pain he must have endured. his gaze was fixed on the still water, lost in thought, until your sudden appearance shattered the silence.

his head snapped up, eyes wide with surprise. for a moment, the two of you were frozen, caught in each other’s gaze. then, in a swift motion, namjoon’s hand flew to his face, covering the scarred eye with a mix of shame and fear. “did you see?” he asked, his voice hesitant, almost childlike in its vulnerability. you could only stare, your mind blank with shock. Tthe sight of his scars, the rawness of his question, rendered you speechless. but his expression darkened at your silence. he stepped closer, and before you could react, his hand shot out, grabbing you by the throat.

“i asked if you saw!” he bellowed, his grip tightening. the suddenness of the attack, coupled with the sheer strength behind it, made your heart race in terror. “please, please,” you gasped, your hands clawing at his arm in a desperate attempt to free yourself. “i won’t say anything! i swear.”

namjoon’s eyes bore into yours, searching for any sign of deceit. the intensity of his gaze was suffocating, but you forced yourself to meet it, praying he would believe you. “forget me,” he ordered, his voice low and menacing. “forget what you saw here tonight.” you nodded jerkily, too afraid to do anything else. after what felt like an eternity, he released you, his hand trembling slightly as he backed away. he grabbed his mask and clothes, casting one last look at you before turning on his heel and disappearing into the night.

as he left, a small object fell from his grasp, unnoticed by him in his haste. you waited until you were sure he was gone before approaching the spot where it had landed. it was a hairpin, intricately designed, delicate in its craftsmanship. you picked it up, holding it gingerly in your hand. it was a small thing, but something about it felt significant, as if it held a piece of his story. clutching the hairpin to your chest, you slowly made your way back to the palace. the long walk back gave you time to think, to process everything that had happened. your heart still raced from the encounter, but beneath the fear, there was a growing realization that namjoon wasn’t just the cold, unfeeling prince you had initially taken him for.

by the time you reached the entrance of the household, the entire family was waiting for you outside. their faces were a mix of worry and anger, and your stomach dropped at the sight. “where have you been?” lady ja demanded, stepping forward with an air of authority. her tone was sharp, but the underlying concern was unmistakable. “you left without a word! the whole household has been worried sick.”

the word “family” struck a chord within you, and you blinked in surprise. It was such a simple thing, but hearing it made something inside you shift. you looked around at the faces surrounding you, at the worried expressions of the servants, the stern gaze of lady ja, and something clicked into place.

“I’ve… come home,” you whispered to yourself, the words heavy with realization. and for the first time since you’d arrived in this strange world, it didn’t feel so foreign. you didn’t feel so lost. there was still much you didn’t understand, still so much to figure out, but in that moment, you felt a small, tentative sense of belonging.

queen jinyoung soaked in the warm bath, her body submerged beneath the surface, save for her head resting against the smooth edge of the porcelain tub. steam rose in delicate wisps, curling around her face and obscuring the sharpness of her features. the water was scented with jasmine and lavender, calming scents that usually soothed her nerves. but tonight, they failed to quiet the storm brewing in her mind.

she stared at the ceiling, her thoughts drifting back to the recent conversation she had with her eldest son, chaehee. it had been late at night, the palace shrouded in darkness, when he had come to her chambers. chaehee was always careful, always discreet, and he knew better than to be seen sneaking into his mother’s quarters at such an hour. the candles flickered as he entered, casting his face in a dance of light and shadow, highlighting the tension etched into his brow.

“we can’t wait any longer,” chaehee had said, his voice low and urgent. “the rumors are spreading faster than we anticipated. the court is abuzz with talk that the king may abdicate the throne to tae.”

jinyoung had felt her chest tighten at his words. she had known this day would come, had prepared for it, but the reality of it was still a bitter pill to swallow. taehyung, the crown prince, was favored by the king in ways that none of her sons were. he was seen as the rightful heir, the embodiment of everything the king wished to pass on to the next generation. but jinyoung knew better. taehyung was a threat—a threat to her sons, to their future, to everything she had fought so hard to secure.

“we need to speed things up,” she had murmured, her fingers gripping the armrest of her chair with a white-knuckled intensity. “the upcoming ceremony is our best chance. if we’re going to eliminate tae, it has to be then.” chaehee had nodded, his eyes gleaming with cold determination. “leave it to me, mother. i’ll ensure everything goes according to plan.”

“see that you do,” jinyoung had replied, her voice steely. “we cannot afford any mistakes.”

now, as she lay in the bath, those words echoed in her mind. the plan was set into motion, and there was no turning back. the fate of her sons rested on the success of this plot. her heart pounded with a mixture of anxiety and resolve. if tae were to ascend the throne, her family’s future would be in jeopardy. but if they succeeded—if they succeeded, her sons would finally have the power and recognition they deserved.

she closed her eyes, letting the warm water soothe her aching muscles, but not her troubled thoughts. the image of chaehee’s face, so full of confidence and ruthlessness, stayed with her. she had raised him well, molded him into the man he needed to be in this cutthroat world. but even as she took pride in his ambition, there was a part of her that worried. the stakes were higher than ever, and if they failed—no, she couldn’t think of that. failure was not an option.

the following day, the princes gathered in the training grounds for one final run-through of their sword dance. the air was thick with anticipation, the weight of the upcoming ceremony hanging over them like a shroud. taehyung stood at the front, watching the princes with a critical eye as they practiced the intricate choreography. the dance was a vital part of the ritual, a symbol of the unity and strength of the royal family as they drove out the demons from the palace.

the princes moved in perfect synchronization, their swords slicing through the air with practiced precision. tae couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride as he observed them. despite the tension that often simmered beneath the surface, they were still his blood, and they had trained long and hard for this moment. as they completed the final sequence, tae’s lips curved into a rare smile of approval. “well done,” he praised, his voice carrying over the training grounds. “we’re ready.”

tenth prince baekhyun, panting slightly from exertion, turned to thirteenth prince kyeom with a mischievous grin. “do you think she’ll be here today?” he asked, a hint of eagerness in his tone. daniel smirked, catching the excited glint in baekhyun’s eyes. “who? the one who gave you that lovely black eye?”

the other princes chuckled, and baekhyun’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “it wasn’t like that!” he protested, though his smile betrayed him. “sure it wasn’t,” chaehee drawled, his voice laced with amusement. “you just happened to trip into her fist, is that it?”

the teasing continued, lightening the mood among the brothers. even namjoon allowed himself a small smile at baekhyun’s expense. but as soon as he caught hansol’s gaze on him, that smile faded, replaced by the stoic mask he usually wore. hansol’s eyes were thoughtful, as though he was trying to puzzle out something about namjoon, but he said nothing.

meanwhile, chaehee’s attention was drawn to a line of black-clad men entering the grounds, their faces obscured by demon masks. they were part of the ritual, their role to represent the evil spirits that the royal family would symbolically banish. but to hyun, they were more than just performers. he had chosen them carefully, ensuring that they were loyal to his cause. his eyes flickered with a brief, calculating light as he watched them take their positions.

but chaehee wasn’t the only one with a plan. unbeknownst to him, tae had been working on his own counterplay. the crown prince had always been astute, quick to sense when something was amiss, and he wasn’t blind to the undercurrents of tension surrounding the ceremony. that’s why, in a quiet moment before the ritual began, he sought out namjoon. the exchange of masks was swift, and soon namjoon was clad in the elaborate costume of the crown prince, his face hidden behind a mask that bore the markings of leadership. taehyung donned a simpler outfit, blending in with the other princes as they prepared for the ceremony.

the palace courtyard was packed with onlookers, all eager to witness the grand ritual. the air was thick with the scent of incense, and the rhythmic beat of drums set the tone for the performance. namjoon took the lead position, his presence commanding as he stood at the forefront of the princes. to everyone watching, he was the crown prince, the one who would lead them in driving out the demons.

the ritual began, a carefully choreographed mix of martial arts and dance. namjoon moved with fluid grace, his sword cutting through the air in perfect harmony with the rhythm of the drums. the other princes followed his lead, their movements synchronized as they played their part in the elaborate display. as the dance progressed, the demon-masked men entered the scene, their presence dark and ominous. they advanced toward the princes, their swords drawn, and the real battle began. namjoon took them on with an impressive display of skill, his movements precise and controlled. he danced between them, his sword clashing against theirs in a series of carefully timed strikes.

chaehee, also masked, joined namjoon in the fight, their swords working in tandem as they recited an incantation to drive out the demons. the performance was flawless, a testament to the hours of practice they had put in. but then, something unexpected happened. more masked men appeared, descending from above like shadows. their arrival was sudden and unplanned, and immediately, the king and jisoo knew that something was wrong. the newcomers weren’t part of the ritual—they were assassins.

the atmosphere shifted in an instant, the crowd’s murmurs turning into gasps of alarm as the assassins drew their swords and charged at namjoon. jisoo’s voice rang out, calling for the soldiers to protect the king, and the royal guards surged forward, surrounding the king’s platform. namjoon, still masked and mistaken for the crown prince, found himself at the center of the attack. he fought back with fierce determination, his sword moving in a blur as he defended himself against the onslaught. but the odds were overwhelming, and despite his best efforts, he couldn’t fend them off alone.

hansol was the first to realize that something was amiss. without hesitation, he charged into the fray, his sword flashing as he cut down the attackers. the other princes followed suit, their faces set in grim resolve as they joined the battle. together, they evened the numbers, driving back the assassins with a renewed vigor. chaehee caught sight of one of the demons—the very man he had conspired with. their eyes met through the slits in their masks, and in that brief exchange, a silent understanding passed between them. hyun knew this was the moment he had been waiting for, the moment to strike and make it look like an accident.

with calculated precision, he maneuvered himself closer to namjoon. the sounds of clashing swords and the shouts of the combatants filled the air, masking the tension that thrummed between the two brothers. namjoon was fully engrossed in fending off another attacker when a third made its move. he twisted his sword in a way that seemed unintentional, a misstep in the dance of battle, and his blade sliced across namjoon’s arm.

he gasped as pain seared through him, his sword slipping from his grasp as he staggered backward. the world seemed to slow as he looked down at the wound, blood soaking into the fine fabric of his costume. for a moment, he was disoriented, his mind reeling from the unexpected betrayal. and then, as if on cue, one of the assassins saw his opportunity. the masked figure lunged at him, sword raised for the kill. namjoon, weakened and caught off guard, could do nothing but brace himself for the inevitable.

but at the last possible second, another figure intervened. a masked prince—swift, precise, and unyielding—threw himself between namjoon and the assassin, deflecting the blow with a resounding clash of steel. namjoon barely had time to register what had happened before he was pushed aside, the masked prince taking his place in the fight. the assassin hesitated, momentarily thrown off by the sudden shift, and in that brief hesitation, the masked prince drove his sword through the attacker’s chest. the demon crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

the remaining assassins, sensing that their plan was unraveling, began to retreat. hyun, still masked, barked orders at the soldiers, commanding them to chase down the fleeing attackers. the courtyard was a chaotic whirlwind of movement as the soldiers pursued the assassins, determined to capture them before they could escape. the king, who had been watching the scene unfold with mounting dread, hurried down from his platform the moment the danger had passed. his gaze was frantic as he looked for taehyung, his fear palpable. but when he reached the center of the courtyard, he stopped short, his breath catching in his throat.

the mask had been removed, and instead of tae, he found namjoon standing there, clutching his wounded arm. the realization struck the king like a blow, and for a moment, he was speechless, the words caught in his throat. “where is taehyung?” the king demanded, his voice tight with fear and urgency.

namjoon, already in pain and now reeling from the king’s clear distress, felt a pang in his chest that had nothing to do with his injury. he swallowed hard, the hurt evident in his eyes, as he struggled to find the words to respond. the king’s priority had always been tae, and now, in this moment of crisis, it was clearer than ever.

before namjoon could respond, tae stepped forward, still clad in his simpler attire, but with a regal bearing that could not be mistaken. “i’m here,” he said calmly, though there was a sharpness in his tone that hadn’t been there before. the king’s shoulders sagged in relief, and he immediately moved to embrace tae, his concern for mamjoon seemingly forgotten in the wake of his son’s safety. tae, however, held himself stiffly, his eyes flicking toward namjoon with an unreadable expression.

queen jinyoung, watching from a distance, felt her heart sink as she realized her carefully laid plans had been thwarted. the ceremony had been the perfect opportunity to eliminate taehyung, but now, it was clear that her plot had failed. worse, her eldest son had been implicated in the attempt on namjoon’s life. she knew there would be consequences, and the realization filled her with dread.

namjoon, his face pale from the loss of blood, suddenly spoke, his voice cutting through the tension in the courtyard. “i’ll catch them,” he declared, his tone firm despite his injury. without waiting for permission or acknowledging the pain in his arm, he turned and began to walk away, his steps purposeful and determined.

“namjoon, wait—” taehyung called out, moving to follow, but the king grabbed his arm, holding him back. “no, taehyung,” the king said, his voice filled with urgency. “you can’t go after him. it’s too dangerous.” his eyes flashed with frustration, but he stopped in his tracks, his hand still resting on the hilt of his sword. he watched helplessly as namjoon continued on, his figure growing smaller as he disappeared into the palace corridors.

the city streets blurred past namjoon as he sprinted through the narrow alleys, his focus entirely on the figures moving with alarming speed across the rooftops. the assassins, their dark silhouettes stark against the night sky, seemed to dance effortlessly between the buildings, but namjoon was relentless. his breath came in sharp bursts, each exhale mixing with the cool night air as he pursued them with a single-minded determination.

his boots pounded against the cobblestones, his cloak billowing behind him like a dark specter in the night. the chase led him out of the city and into the dense woods that bordered the outskirts. the trees loomed tall and foreboding, their branches like skeletal fingers reaching out to ensnare the unwary. namjoon’s heart raced, adrenaline pumping as he navigated the underbrush, the moonlight casting eerie shadows across his path.

he finally caught sight of the assassins again, their figures moving with purpose through the trees. his gaze locked onto one of them—a particularly formidable figure—whose sword gleamed ominously in the moonlight. with a burst of speed, he closed the distance, drawing his own sword with a metallic hiss. the confrontation was immediate and intense. the assassin met namjoon’s blade with a skilled parry, the clash of steel echoing through the woods. they circled each other, eyes locked, each strike and counterstrike a testament to their training and resolve. mamjoon’s movements were precise and calculated, each swing of his sword a carefully measured attack. the assassin, equally adept, responded with a series of fluid, almost graceful maneuvers, his own blade a deadly extension of his will. it was his lifeline, it was what his second family taught him to do. the rumor had long swept the palace that namjoon had hunted down every wolf in the area, and he only proved it to be true.

as they fought, you had been wandering through the woods, taking a break from your sightseeing. the peaceful silence of the forest had been disrupted by the sounds of the fierce battle, and curiosity had drawn you further into the woods. the clash of swords was soon replaced by more hushed, but still tense, sounds as you stumbled upon a secluded clearing.

there, hidden behind the trees, you watched in horror as a group of masked assassins gathered around a figure you recognized as prince chaehee. the assassins, their heads bowed in deference, stood in a semi-circle around him. his expression was cold and calculating as he surveyed the group, his eyes gleaming with a ruthless edge. with a wave of his hand, he dismissed the failed assassins, his voice a low murmur of disdain. the air grew tense, and you watched in growing dread as his guards stepped forward. without hesitation, the guards drew their blades and executed the failed assassins. the silent, efficient killings were over before you could fully process what was happening.

you gasped involuntarily, the sound escaping before you could stifle it. the noise was faint, but in the quiet of the night, it was enough. chaehee’s head snapped around, his eyes scanning the shadows for the source of the disturbance. panic surged through you, and you took a step back, trying to retreat quietly. you bolted, stumbling through the underbrush as fast as you could manage. the woods seemed to close in around you, branches snagging at your clothes as you fled.

namjoon had managed to subdue the assassin he was fighting. panting heavily, he pressed the blade of his sword against the assassin’s throat, his eyes cold and unyielding. “tell me who you’re working for,” he demanded, his voice a low growl. the assassin, still reeling from the fight, hesitated. namjoon’s grip was unrelenting, and the assassin’s eyes darted nervously. his eyes flicked towards the trees, sensing that something was off. just as the assassin seemed on the verge of breaking, you burst into the clearing, breathless and disheveled.

“help!” you gasped, staggering towards namjoon. “you don’t understand, i saw—” before you could finish, the assassin saw an opportunity. he grabbed you, holding his sword to your throat with a threatening snarl. namjoon’s eyes widened in shock, his blade momentarily faltering. namjoon’s expression hardened, and he raised his sword, pointing it directly at your face. the cold steel of the blade felt like a chilling weight on your skin, and you could see the glint of the edge as it pressed against your neck.

“please,” you begged, your voice trembling. “just let me go.” namjoon’s smirk was icy and detached. “one woman means nothing to me,” he said, his tone devoid of sympathy. “tell me what i want to know.”

the assassin wavered, his grip on the sword loosening slightly. namjoon’s gaze was steely, his resolve unshaken. he pressed the assassin further, his voice a harsh demand for the name. victory seemed close at hand when you took a desperate measure. with a burst of adrenaline, you bit the assassin’s hand, the sudden pain causing him to stagger back.

the assassin stumbled in fury, moving to strike you again. namjoon’s reaction was swift, but before he could intervene, a dagger flew through the air, embedding itself in the assassin’s head. the figure slumped to the ground, lifeless, as hansol stepped into view. his arrival was dramatic but unwelcome for namjoon. the older prince’s presence was a complication namjoon had not anticipated. his eyes flashed with anger as he turned to confront hansol.

“you ruined everything,” he snapped, his sword still pressed close to your bloody neck, grabbed you roughly, his expression a mixture of frustration and rage. “why did you have to interfere?”

hanaol’s eyes were sharp and unwavering as he faced namjoon. with a flick of his wrist, he drew his sword, pointing it menacingly at his neck. “let her go,” haneul ordered, his voice firm and commanding. namjoon’s gaze met his, and in a swift, fluid motion, he whirled to clash swords with him. the metal of their blades met with a resounding clash, sparks flying as they engaged in a tense duel. the forest seemed to hold its breath as the two princes fought, their movements a deadly ballet of skill and precision.

“why should i?” namjoon spat, his voice laced with frustration. “this woman cost me answers. i won’t let her go until i get what I need.”

the night air was still and heavy as you stood among the trees, the remnants of the chaotic battle echoing in the distance. namjoon’s grip was a vice around your throat, his eyes blazing with a mix of anger and disbelief. hansol, standing nearby, observed the scene with a stern expression. “you’re saying you saw a group of assassins being killed?” namjoon’s voice was a harsh whisper, his grip tightening as he tried to extract the truth from you. “by someone’s guards?”

you nodded frantically, trying to catch your breath. “yes, i swear. they were executed. i saw it happen.” namjoon’s eyes narrowed. “show us where.”

you led them through the woods, your heart pounding as you moved swiftly through the darkened paths. the eerie silence that followed was suffocating. when you finally arrived at the spot, the clearing was empty, devoid of any evidence of the massacre you had described. you looked around, your voice trembling. “i swear, it was here. they were killed by guards. i saw it with my own eyes.”

namjoon’s patience snapped. he grabbed you roughly by the neck, his face a mask of fury. “you’re lying,” he growled. “there’s nothing here.” fear surged through you, and you gasped for breath. “i’m not lying!” you pleaded, tears streaming down your face. “i saw it. i swear i did.”

hansol had been the one examining the surroundings. his eyes caught a subtle detail on one of the trees—a patch of blood, faint but unmistakable. “look,” he said, pointing at the stain. “they were definitely here.”

namjoon’s grip on your neck loosened as he turned to inspect the bloody patch. His expression shifted from anger to contemplation. “so whoever killed them is the one who hired them,” he deduced. he turned back to you, his gaze sharp and unrelenting. “what else did you see? who else was there?”

panic gripped you, and you shook your head frantically. “i couldn’t make out the face. It was too dark, too chaotic.” namjoon’s eyes flashed with anger once more. “you’re lying. i know you are. don't you know i'll kill you for it?”

the threat hung in the air like a dark cloud, and your sobs grew louder as the weight of his words sank in. “why are you so cruel?” you cried out, your voice cracking. “what have i done to deserve this?”

he seemed momentarily taken aback by your anguish. his expression softened ever so slightly, but his resolve remained firm. “you’re in my way,” he said coldly. “i need to solve this issue, and if you’re not helping, you’re a liability.”

through your sobs, a memory surfaced—a fleeting image of the killer. you recalled a detail that had seemed strange in the midst of the chaos. “he had fur on him,” you blurted out. “i saw fur. i don’t know whose it was, but there was fur.”

namjoon and hansol exchanged a look of recognition. they knew immediately who the fur might belong to. namjoon’s eyes widened with realization. “if you didn’t see his face, then we’re still dealing with a mystery, but that clue is crucial. i need to find him now.” without another word, he turned and sprinted back towards the city, his figure quickly disappearing into the night. you were left standing in the woods, your body trembling with sobs.

hansol, watching you from a distance, observed your emotional state with a mixture of curiosity and concern. he approached you slowly, his expression softening. despite the gravity of the situation, he found something oddly endearing in your distress. he hesitated for a moment, then stepped forward and gently enveloped you in his arms. his embrace was warm and reassuring, a comforting contrast to the harshness you had just experienced. “it’s okay,” he murmured softly, his voice soothing. “you’ll be alright. i promise.”

you clung to him, your tears soaking into his robes as you wept uncontrollably. hansol’s hand gently stroked your back, shushing you softly. “you did your best,” he said, his tone calming. “just try to stay calm. we’ll figure this out.” as the tears slowly subsided, you could feel haneul’s reassuring presence grounding you, offering a sliver of comfort amidst the turmoil. the night continued to envelop the woods in its dark embrace, but for a moment, in his arms, you felt a fragile sense of security.

you woke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the windows, a gentle warmth settling over you as you stirred from sleep. the sudden clatter of footsteps and the murmur of voices drew you from your dreams. you blinked groggily and found lady ja standing beside your bed, her face etched with concern. “wake up,” she said, her voice a mix of urgency and worry. “i’ve been looking for you. what happened to your neck?”

you touched the tender area where the assassin's blade had grazed you. “it’s nothing,” you assured her, offering a reassuring smile despite the sting. “i’m fine. it’s just a scratch.” she didn’t look entirely convinced but let it go, focusing instead on the bustle around her. the other maids were helping her sort through a collection of old gowns, meticulously folding and packing them.

“what’s all this for?” you asked, observing the activity with curiosity. “it’s for a donation,” lady ja explained, her tone carrying a hint of pride. “the king has these events from time to time, where old clothes are given to those in need. hansol goes to oversee the donations.”

you tilted your head, thinking. “does he go alone?” she nodded, confused. “yes, he usually does. why do you ask?” you shrugged. “i think you should go with him. it’s what husbands and wives do, isn’t it?” her eyes lit up with a soft smile. “is that so?”

you nodded enthusiastically. “of course. and if you want, i could even do your makeup for you. it would be my pleasure.” lady ja’s gratitude was evident in her eyes. “would you really? that would be wonderful.”

“absolutely,” you said, eager to help. you busied yourself with powders, oils, and brushes, working diligently to enhance her features. as you applied the makeup, you apologized for your lack of experience. “i’m not quite used to this yet. i hope it turns out alright.”

she seemed pleasantly surprised as you finished. “you did a marvelous job,” she said, taking the mirror you handed her. her eyes widened in amazement. “you’ve made me look so youthful.” you smiled, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “i’m glad you like it. enjoy yourself today.”

to your surprise, she had other plans. “no, you should come with me. i’d like your company.”

you both ventured out together, joining the others in distributing food to the children. from a distance, hansol observed you with a warm, approving smile. the scene was bustling with activity. you were handing out treats to the eager children when a small altercation caught your attention. one of the boys snatched a treat from his friend’s hand and dashed off, leaving his friend in tears.

without hesitation, you pursued the boy, your heart pounding as you caught up to him. you knelt to his level, pinching his cheek gently. “is it okay to steal from a friend?” you asked softly. the boy shook his head, eyes wide with remorse. “then,” you said with a smile, “how about we make a deal? if you give the treat back, i’ll give you both two each.” the boy’s face brightened as he returned the stolen treat. you handed out the additional treats, and the children’s smiles returned. lady ja watched, her eyes filled with admiration, while hansol’s smile broadened. the scene was one of simple joy, and it seemed to resonate deeply with both of them.

you found chayeon in the corridor, her calm demeanor contrasting sharply with your rising panic. your fingers fidgeted with the hem of your sleeve as you approached her. “chayeon,” you began, your voice trembling slightly, “what’s the punishment for hitting a prince? is it severe?” she glanced up from her tasks, a hint of discomfort in her eyes. “it’s not something to take lightly,” she said vaguely, her tone evasive. “it could be quite serious.”

before you could probe further, the clatter of footsteps and the sight of two guards alerted you to prince baekhyun’s arrival. he climbed the stairs with an air of authority, his gaze fixed on you.

“you should show more gratitude,” he said as he approached, his tone unexpectedly light. you blinked, confused. “gratitude for what?”

his expression shifted awkwardly. “i had to beg the king to let you go unpunished.” you were taken aback by his unexpected revelation. “why would you do that?”

baekhyun hesitated, unable to find the right words. the silence stretched between you, and you couldn’t help but wonder if his actions stemmed from something more personal. the thought that he might be harboring feelings for you crossed your mind, but he remained tight-lipped. before you could voice your curiosity, you gave a sincere, “thank you.”

you turned to leave, but sang’s voice halted you. “wait,” he called, his tone shifting to something more casual. “you should repay me for this favor.”

you arched an eyebrow. “repay you how?” baekhyun’s gaze softened slightly, though he still maintained his composure. “i want to see you at least once a day, every day.”

a laugh bubbled from your lips, both relieved and amused. “that’s the least i can do,” you said, beginning to walk away. “consider this our first day,” he called after you, a hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips. with a final nod, you walked away, feeling a strange mix of relief and curiosity about the new arrangement.

the night was cloaked in darkness as namjoon raced through the narrow, twisting paths leading to the hidden temple. his breath came in ragged bursts, the cold night air stinging his lungs as he pushed his horse to its limits. the news of the renounced monks taking refuge in an isolated temple had reached him in the midst of the chaos, and he knew he had to act swiftly. the steep, rocky hillside loomed ahead, its shadowed contours barely discernible against the moonlit sky.

the temple was perched precariously at the top of the hill, its ancient stone walls weathered and worn. as he approached, he could see the flickering glow of torches from within the temple's crumbling walls. he dismounted swiftly, drawing his sword as he climbed the final ascent. his mind raced with thoughts of the assassins who had attacked him, their inability to speak striking him as odd. he recalled tales of monks who had their tongues cut out as punishment, their silence a symbol of their penance.

reaching the temple, he found the entrance unguarded, the heavy wooden doors hanging loosely on their hinges. the interior was dimly lit by a few scattered torches, their light casting eerie shadows on the cracked and crumbling walls. the air was heavy with the scent of damp earth and incense, a remnant of long-forgotten rituals. the temple seemed abandoned, but an unsettling sensation of being watched prickled at the back of his neck.

he closed his eyes for a moment, focusing on the subtle sounds around him. the rustle of fabric, the faint creak of wooden beams, and the whisper of unseen movements made his senses keenly aware. suddenly, a figure lunged at him from the darkness, a dagger gleaming in the dim light. instinctively, namjoon deflected the attack with his sword, the blade clashing with metal. he spun around, narrowly avoiding a thrust from a spear, and with a swift and decisive motion, cut down the attacker.

the clamor of combat erupted as more figures emerged from the shadows, surrounding namjoon. he fought with a fierce determination, his movements fluid and precise. his sword sliced through the air, each strike calculated and deadly. the attackers were relentless, but namjoon’s skill was unmatched. he dispatched the first wave of opponents with ruthless efficiency, their bodies falling to the ground as he pressed on.

“where is your leader?” he demanded, his voice cold and commanding. when he received no reply, he growled in frustration. “is there no one here who can speak?” a burly man, his face concealed by a demon mask, charged at him. with a practiced swing, namjoon cut the man’s throat, the blood spraying in a grotesque arc. the temple’s interior was now a scene of carnage, the floor slick with blood and littered with the fallen bodies of the monks. namjoon’s sword flashed through the darkness, his movements a deadly dance of precision and power.

the fight was brutal, each clash of steel and every cry of pain adding to the growing chaos. namjoon’s dexterity with both the long sword and short dagger was apparent, his skill honed through years of training and combat. the battle seemed to stretch on endlessly, but namjoon’s resolve never wavered. his efficiency was such that within minutes, the last of the monks lay defeated on the cold stone floor.

the silence that followed was heavy, broken only by the distant crackle of flames. namjoon stood alone amid the carnage, his breath coming in heavy, labored gasps. just then, the doors to a nearby building burst open with a deafening crash, and a lone monk stepped out, his eyes cold and calculating. he bowed to namjoon, his expression inscrutable.

“are you the one responsible for this?” namjoon asked, his voice laced with steel. the monk’s gaze was unwavering. “these men had their tongues removed as punishment for their grave sins,” he said. “i have looked after them.”

namjoon’s face hardened. “then all i have to do is get rid of you.” the monk’s eyes flickered with a hint of something—fear, perhaps. “for whom are you doing this?” he asked. “does your mother know?”

namjoon’s smile was cold and dangerous. “a place of no speech, yet someone here has a lot of words,” he replied. he raised his sword, the blade gleaming in the flickering light. “you’ll die for her sake.” the monk’s defense was swift but ultimately futile. namjoon’s first blow was deflected, but he pressed on with a series of quick, lethal slashes. the monk fell to the ground, the life draining from him as namjoon’s sword pierced his gut. as the man gurgled out his final breaths, namjoon leaned in close, his voice a deadly whisper. “you’ve lived off the queen, so now you die for her.”

with that, namjoon turned and walked away, the weight of his bloody sword heavy in his hand. the temple was already beginning to burn, the flames consuming the ancient structure in a brilliant, destructive blaze. the night was filled with the crackling of fire and the distant wail of sirens as he made his way down the hillside. as he staggered away from the burning temple, the sight of the inferno lighting up the dark sky, he found himself near the palace. his heart pounded with a mix of adrenaline and exhaustion. he needed to confront his mother, to make her understand the cost of her machinations.

in the dead of night, he slipped into the palace unnoticed, his steps silent on the cold marble floors. he made his way through the labyrinthine corridors until he reached queen jiyoung’s chambers. the door was slightly ajar, and he could see the queen sleeping soundly within. without hesitation, namjoon pushed the door open and stepped inside. his bloodied sword still dripping, he approached the bed where his mother lay. queen jiyoung stirred, her eyes opening in shock as she saw the figure looming over her. she shrank back, her face a mask of fear.

namjoon’s smile was a mix of sadness and resolve. “you will remember this night,” he said softly, his voice carrying a bitter edge. “you abandoned me, but i shall not leave. i ask only that you see me.”

the night air was still, heavy with the smoke from the burning temple. namjoon, covered in blood and soot, wandered through the quiet, his mind a tumultuous storm of rage and pain. his steps led him to a small, serene area by a river, where prayer stones were meticulously stacked by mothers who sought divine protection for their children. the sight of these humble offerings, imbued with the hopes and fears of countless families, was like a cruel reminder of the normalcy and peace he had been denied.

with a sudden, violent motion, he lashed out at the prayer stones. his sword, still slick with the blood of the monks, sliced through the air and sent a stack of stones toppling over. they tumbled and scattered across the ground, the delicate balance of their arrangement shattered. his face twisted into a mask of fury as he watched the chaos he had wrought, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps.

you had been trailing on a path of your own, yet his distress and desperation were in reach. as you saw the destruction and the storm of emotions on namjoon's face, you rushed forward to try and stop him. but as you neared, he turned and roughly shoved you away, his strength surprising and painful. you stumbled, barely catching yourself as you fell to the ground. when you looked down, your hands were smeared with the remnants of the toppled stones and, to your horror, the blood that had transferred from his.

hia laughter came out in a jagged burst, a chilling sound that reverberated through the night. “it’s the blood of those i killed today,” he declared, his voice a mix of derision and anguish. he looked at you with a wild, unhinged expression, his eyes alight with a manic energy. the laughter died in his throat as he glared at you, his anger and despair mingling in a volatile mix.

“why do you even care about these prayer stones?” he shouted, his voice echoing through the empty space. “my mother shouldn’t be here praying. she should come to me and beg for mercy instead.”

you tried to hold him back, your voice trembling but resolute. “you’re injured,” you said, hoping to redirect his attention. you meant his hand, which was gripping the sword with a force that must have caused him pain. but instead of heeding your concern, namjoon grabbed you by the collar, his grip tight and unyielding. his eyes, though fierce, held a flicker of surprise at your lack of fear.

“i told you,” he warned, his voice low and intense, “i killed people.” his words hung heavy in the air, and you met his gaze with calm understanding rather than the fear he seemed to expect. you did not flinch or recoil but remained steady, sensing the torment within him.

“i understand,” you said softly. “tell me what happened. why did you do it?”

the vulnerability in your tone seemed to reach him, and for a moment, his fierce grip loosened. he stared at you, confusion and a touch of something like relief crossing his features. he shook his head, as if trying to dispel the emotions swirling within him. “go,” he said, his voice cracking. “you don’t need to be here.”

but you stood firm. “no,” you said. “i understand more than you think. you grew up in a world where wielding a sword was a necessity, where killing was not a choice but a survival tactic. what you did today—what you’ve done—was driven by what you were taught.”

namjoon’s face was a mask of conflicted emotions, his eyes searching yours for judgment or pity. instead, he found only empathy. “but what can you do?” you continued, your voice steady and kind. “what can anyone do in a world like this? you must be feeling so miserable right now. i think i understand.”

his grip on your collar finally released, and you took a step back, giving him space. he remained where he was, his body slumped slightly as if the weight of his actions was beginning to sink in. he stared at the scattered prayer stones, his breathing ragged and uneven. you turned and began to walk away, leaving him to grapple with his grief and anger amidst the ruins of the prayer offerings. the night air was cool against your face, and the distant sounds of the village were muted. as you walked away, you glanced back once, seeing namjoon standing alone in the moonlight, the broken stones a mere reminder of the cost of his struggles.

the punishment for namjoon’s reckless act of burning down the temple had been swift and severe. though his role in thwarting the assassination attempt had earned him some leniency, the king had ordered him to be isolated from the other princes for a time—enough to reflect on his actions and the consequences they might have had. he had fulfilled his promise and did all he could to protect tae, which did not go unnoticed. he was given the right to stay. in fact, he was given the right to stay at the palace, but with rewards came consequences. he was to remain confined to a small, remote building on the palace grounds, away from the eyes of the court and the whispers that followed his every move.

the morning had been uneventful, a silence hanging heavy in the air as namjoon spent his hours alone, the weight of solitude pressing down on him. the palace, so full of life and noise, felt a world away from where he now sat, by the stream that bordered the isolated quarters. the water moved slowly, mirroring his own sluggish thoughts as he stared into the distance, lost in the turmoil of his mind.

inside the palace, the maids were gathered in a small cluster, their voices low but urgent as they debated amongst themselves. “i’m not going,” one of them whispered harshly. “i heard what he did. he’s dangerous.” another shook her head, her hands trembling as she twisted the fabric of her apron. “but someone has to take him his lunch. he hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”

“then you take it,” the first maid retorted, crossing her arms defiantly. “i’m not risking my life.”

“i’ll go.” the maids turned, surprised at the sound of your voice. you stood at the edge of the group, having overheard their conversation as you approached. your expression was calm, resolute, as you looked at the tray of food they were hesitating over. “i’ll take it to him,” you repeated, stepping forward and reaching for the tray. the maids exchanged uneasy glances but made no move to stop you.

“are you sure, my lady?” chaeyeon asked, her voice laced with doubt. “they say he’s not right in the head after what happened.” you met her gaze steadily. “i’m sure.”

with the tray in hand, you made your way to the stream, your footsteps light and measured. the closer you got to namjoon’s solitary retreat, the more you could feel the tension in the air, like the calm before a storm. you found him sitting at the very end of the stream, where the water pooled in a small, quiet basin before continuing its journey downstream. he was alone, as you had expected, his figure tense as he sat with his back to you, staring into the distance.

for a moment, you hesitated, unsure if he had heard you approach. but then you gathered your resolve, stepping forward and setting the tray down on the ground beside him. the sound of the plate touching the stone was a soft, delicate clink that seemed to echo in the silence. “eat while it’s warm,” you said gently, your voice breaking the quiet.

namjoon didn’t respond, didn’t even turn to look at you. his silence was heavy, but you could sense the conflict within him, the battle between pride and despair waging just beneath the surface. you turned to leave, respecting his need for solitude, but as you took a step back, something stopped you. a frown creased your brow, and before you could think better of it, you sat back down beside him. the water flowed softly beside you, a soothing presence amidst the tension.

“i won’t say a word about what i saw,” you said quietly, your eyes fixed on the stream. you didn’t need to elaborate; you both knew what you were referring to—the prayer stones, his confession, the blood on your hands. namjoon finally turned to you, his eyes dark and intense as they searched your face. “i know,” he said, his voice low, almost a murmur.

you tilted your head slightly, studying him. “how do you know? because you’ll kill me if i do?” to your surprise, namjoon’s lips curved into a small, almost incredulous smile. it was the first sign of softness you had seen from him since your encounter by the prayer stones.

“i can’t believe you’re not afraid of me,” he said, a hint of wonder in his tone. there was something vulnerable in the way he looked at you, as if he couldn’t quite understand why you weren’t running from him like the others. you returned his smile, though yours was softer, more reassuring. “why would i be afraid of you?”

namjoon’s gaze faltered, and for a moment, he seemed lost in thought. “you saw me without my mask,” he began, his voice tinged with a sadness that made your heart ache, “you should be afraid of an ugly face like that.” you shook your head, your expression earnest. “i could never be afraid of you,” you said softly, the sincerity in your voice undeniable. “besides, you were never ugly.”

the silence between you was thick with unspoken emotions, the air around you charged with the weight of what wasn’t said. namjoon studied you, as if searching for any hint of deceit in your words, but finding none. then, as if realizing the futility of his own brooding, he released a small sigh. “you should go,” he said, though there was no force behind his words. “this isn’t a place for you.”

you forced yourself to feign seriousness, though your heart ached for him. “eat the food,” you said, trying to bring some normalcy back to the moment. “i have to take the plates back.” his lips twitched into a faint smile, the closest thing to real warmth you had seen from him in a long while. “all right,” he conceded, reaching for the plate. you watched as he began to eat, your heart heavy with the knowledge of his pain, but also with a sense of hope that led him to think that he wasn’t as alone as he felt.

lady ja lay in her bed, her breaths coming in shallow, uneven gasps as the illness that had ravaged her body slowly drained the life from her. the once vibrant, commanding presence of the lady of the house was now reduced to a frail figure, barely recognizable beneath layers of quilts. her face, once full of warmth and intelligence, was pale, her skin translucent like fragile porcelain, and her eyes were dull, clouded with the pain she could no longer voice.

beside her, hansol knelt, his tall frame bent low as he held her hand, his fingers trembling slightly as they clasped hers. he had seen her strength, her will to survive, but now all of that was slipping away, and he was powerless to stop it. the room was dim, the soft flicker of candlelight casting long shadows on the walls, as if the darkness itself was encroaching upon her. “my lady, please hold on,” he whispered, his voice thick with the desperation he could no longer contain. he squeezed her hand gently, trying to offer her whatever strength he had left. the weight of what was happening, of what he was about to lose, pressed down on him like an unbearable burden.

lady ja’s lips curled into a weak smile, one that didn’t quite reach her eyes, as she gazed at him with a mixture of tenderness and resignation. “your highness,” she murmured, her voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the silence of the room. “i know you don’t love me.”

her words struck him worse than a physical blow, and his eyes widened in shock, tears welling up and spilling over before he could stop them. he opened his mouth to protest, to tell her she was wrong, but the words caught in his throat, choking him with their falseness. he couldn’t lie to her, not now, not in those final moments. seeing the truth in his eyes, lady ja’s smile grew sadder, her hand—a mere shadow of its former strength—reached up to brush a stray tear from his cheek. the touch was feather-light, but it burned with the weight of everything left unsaid between them.

“i’ve seen the way you look at her,” she continued, her tone gentle, free of any bitterness or accusation. “i know you’ve grown to care for her.” haneul’s chest tightened painfully, guilt and sorrow warring within him as he struggled to keep his composure. the truth in her words was undeniable, and it tore at him to know that she had been aware of it, even as she lay dying.

“take care of her,” lady ja whispered, her voice growing weaker with each word, as though even speaking was now too great an effort. “If you can, marry her.”

the tears flowed freely now, silent but unrelenting, as hansol held her hand, feeling the life slipping away from her with each passing second. her breathing grew fainter, her chest rising and falling in a barely perceptible rhythm until, finally, it stopped altogether. her eyes fluttered shut, the last remnants of life leaving them as she passed into the silence that awaited her. for a moment, hansol was frozen, his mind struggling to comprehend that she was gone. the room seemed to hold its breath, as if the world itself had paused in reverence of her passing. he leaned over her, pressing her hand to his lips, the weight of his grief pressing him down until it felt as though he might be crushed beneath it.

it was then that you entered the room, returning home after what you had expected to be just another day. you stopped short in the doorway, your eyes landing on the scene before you—lady ja’s lifeless form on the bed, hansol hunched over her, tears staining his cheeks. panic surged through you, a cold, sharp terror that clawed at your chest and left you gasping for breath. the sobs began to tear from your throat uncontrollably, your mind refusing to accept what your eyes were seeing. you stumbled forward, your hands reaching out as if to pull her back from the brink, to undo what had already been done.

hansol turned at the sound of your cries, his expression weary and etched with sorrow, but there was something else there too—a deep, all-consuming sadness that made your heart ache. his voice was quiet, almost a whisper, as he spoke to you. “be quiet,” he said, his tone gentle yet firm, the words laden with a grief that was beyond anything you could imagine. “let’s not wake my wife.”

the absurdity of his request, of the idea that she could be woken, struck you like a physical blow, and for a moment, you stood frozen, staring at him in disbelief. the reality of the situation, the finality of her death, slowly sank in, and the sobs caught in your throat, leaving you breathless and trembling. you collapsed to your knees beside the bed, your hands covering your face as you wept, the sound muffled but filled with a raw, unfiltered pain that echoed through the room. hansol remained by lady ja’s side, his hand still holding hers, as he watched you with a look of profound sorrow. there were no words left to say, nothing that could ease the pain or make the loss any less devastating.

lady ja’s funeral was a somber affair, the sky overcast and heavy with unshed rain, as if the heavens themselves mourned her passing. the courtyard was filled with mourners, all dressed in white, the traditional color of mourning. the air was thick with the scent of incense, its curling tendrils rising like prayers to the gods above, carrying with them the sorrow and grief of those left behind. you stood among the sea of mourners, your heart a leaden weight in your chest, eyes fixed on the simple wooden casket that held lady ja’s body. it was adorned with white lilies, their delicate petals trembling in the light breeze, a cold contrast to the cold, unyielding wood that now encased her. the image of her peaceful face, so serene in death, was etched into your mind, and the tears you had fought so hard to contain began to blur your vision.

beside you, hansol was a figure of quiet devastation. his usually composed demeanor had crumbled in the face of such overwhelming loss. his eyes, red-rimmed and hollow, were fixed on the casket, his hand gripping yours with a desperation that belied his outward composure. you could feel the tremors that ran through him, the silent sobs that shook his frame as he struggled to keep his grief in check. chaeyeon stood on his other side, her small frame trembling with barely restrained emotion. her usually bright eyes were dulled with sorrow, and she clutched a small white flower in her hands, her knuckles white from the intensity of her grip. her gaze never left lady ja’s casket, and you could see the tears streaming down her cheeks, leaving glistening tracks in their wake. she had been so close to her, and now the loss of her was a wound that would take a long time to heal.

the princes had gathered as well, all of them standing in a line of solemnity. each one wore the same expression of respect and sorrow, but there was something different about the thirteenth prince, younghyun. his usually vibrant, youthful face was marred with an anguish that went beyond the collective grief of the others. his hands were clenched tightly at his sides, and you noticed how he seemed to shy away from the others, as though the weight of his emotions was too much to bear.

the ceremony passed in a blur, the priest’s words of blessing and farewell barely registering in your mind. all you could focus on was the sight of lady ja’s casket as it was slowly lowered into the ground, the finality of it hitting you with a force that nearly brought you to your knees. hansol squeezed your hand harder, as though grounding himself through your presence, and you held on just as tightly, a silent promise that you would face this together.

after the ceremony, the crowd began to disperse, each mourner paying their final respects before departing. you saw younghyun slip away from the others, his shoulders hunched, and you felt an urge to follow him. something about the way he carried himself, the way his steps faltered, tugged at your heart, and you couldn’t leave him to his grief alone.

you found him sitting on the stone steps that led to the courtyard, his face buried in his hands. his shoulders shook with the force of his sobs, and you hesitated for a moment before approaching, unsure of what to say. the last thing you wanted was to intrude on his pain, but you couldn’t stand to see him suffer alone.

“your highness,” you called softly, your voice gentle as you took a seat beside him. he didn’t look up, but his sobs quieted slightly, as though your presence alone was enough to offer some small comfort. “what’s the matter?” you asked, keeping your tone soft, hoping to coax him into opening up.

when he finally looked at you, his face was tear-streaked, his eyes red and puffy from crying. “i loved her,” he confessed, his voice breaking on the last word. you nodded, understanding the depth of his pain. “we all did,” you said, your voice filled with the same sorrow that weighed on your heart.

but he shook his head, his expression filled with a sorrow that went deeper than mere grief. “no,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “she was my first love.”

your breath caught in your throat, and you turned to him, your frown deepening in confusion. “why didn’t it work out?” you asked, the question slipping out before you could stop it.

younghyun let out a bitter, humorless laugh, the sound rough and full of pain. “because hansol had her heart from the start,” he replied, his voice thick with regret. “no matter how hard i tried, no matter how much i loved her, she was always his.” his words struck you like a blow, and you felt your heart ache for him, for the love that he had never been able to claim. he had loved her so deeply, and yet it had never been enough to win her heart.

he turned to you, his gaze filled with a raw vulnerability that made your heart clench. “she said i reminded her of you,” he said, his voice breaking once more. a tear slipped down your cheek, the weight of his words hitting you with a force you hadn’t expected. you reached out, placing a comforting hand on his, and he grasped it desperately, as though it were the only thing keeping him anchored to the earth.

“she would have given you a chance if she had known,” you said softly, your voice filled with the sincerity of your words. you believed that, in another time, another place, lady ja might have seen the love that younghyun held for her, and perhaps things would have been different. he nodded, his grip on your hand tightening for a moment before he released it, letting out a shuddering breath. he was silent for a long time after that, lost in his thoughts, and you stayed beside him, offering what comfort you could with your presence.

eventually, you knew you had to return to hansol’s place, to be there for him in his time of grief. you rose from the steps, giving kyeom one last look of understanding before you turned to leave. as you walked back, your mind heavy with the events of the day, you were suddenly stopped in your tracks when a hand was clamped over your mouth.

panic surged through you, your eyes widening in fear as you screamed, the sound muffled by the hand that held you. you thrashed violently, struggling to break free, but strong arms held you fast, lifting you off your feet. you were thrown onto a horse, the guards surrounding you offering no explanation as they forced you into the saddle. your heart pounded in your chest, terror gripping you as you were carried away, the familiar surroundings of the courtyard disappearing behind you. the ride to the palace was a blur of fear and confusion. you tried to make sense of what was happening, why you were being taken in such a manner, but your mind was too clouded with panic to think clearly.

when you finally arrived, you were still thrashing, your attempts to escape growing more desperate as they dragged you inside. the guards were silent, their faces expressionless as they hauled you into the grand hall where king taejo sat upon his throne, his gaze cold and calculating as he watched your approach. you forced yourself to bow, your mind racing with fear and confusion. “your majesty,” you stammered, struggling to keep your voice steady. “what is it that you needed?”

king taejo rose from his throne, his presence commanding and intimidating. he stepped down from the dais, his gaze never leaving yours as he approached, the weight of his authority pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket.

“i’m glad you asked,” he said, his voice smooth, almost pleasant, but there was an edge to it that sent a shiver down your spine. you locked eyes with him, your fear growing with each passing second as he came to a stop before you. there was something in his gaze, something dark and possessive, that made your blood run cold.

“you will become my wife tonight,” he declared, his voice firm and unyielding.

the words hit you like a physical blow, your mind reeling in shock and horror. you had never imagined this, never considered that such a fate would befall you. the reality of it crashed down on you, a wave of dread that left you trembling. but there was no escape, no way to refuse. you were trapped, a pawn in the king’s game, and the realization of it was more terrifying than anything you had ever faced before.

✧.*

a/n: this will take a while since this is based on scarlet heart and ts has like 20 episodes

faded (사라졌다) — jeong jaehyun (정재현)

✧.* 18+

in the dim light of the abandoned warehouse, shadows wove intricate patterns across the walls, a testament to the broken windows and the remnants of long-forgotten machinery. the air was thick with the pungent odor of decay, and the floor was strewn with shattered glass and rusting metal scraps. amid this desolation, a figure moved with an unsettling grace, a quiet elegance that seemed incongruous with the setting.

his eyes, sharp and cold, scanned the room with a calculated detachment. they were like twin shards of ice, reflecting a mind that saw the world not as a tapestry of human experiences but as a cold, dispassionate experiment. he was a sociopath, a term that had been plastered across his dossier and whispered among his colleagues, yet the reality of it was far more profound than any clinical definition.

to observe him was to witness the eerie beauty of a machine in motion, devoid of the warmth that usually defined human interactions. his movements were precise, almost mechanical, each step measured and deliberate. the absence of empathy was not merely a gap but an abyss where emotions should have been. when he spoke, his voice was smooth and calculated, a perfect instrument of persuasion devoid of the imperfections of genuine human emotion. his words were delivered with a chilling calmness that could disarm and manipulate with equal ease.

yet, in his eyes, there was something more than mere coldness—a profound emptiness that spoke of a soul stripped of emotional resonance. it was as if he viewed the world through a glass barrier, witnessing the intricacies of human suffering and joy without ever truly engaging with them. this detachment granted him a chilling clarity, allowing him to observe and exploit the weaknesses of others with unnerving efficiency. he could mimic the gestures of kindness and concern, but they were nothing more than hollow echoes of what he could not feel.

the warehouse was his sanctuary, a place where he could revel in his isolation and indulge in the dark thoughts that occupied his mind. here, away from the prying eyes of society, he was free to dissect the nature of his own being and the roles he played. in the flickering light of a solitary bulb, he contemplated the human condition with a dispassionate curiosity. the contradictions of his existence fascinated him—how he could so easily simulate emotions he could never truly experience, how he could manipulate others with a mere flicker of charm, and how he remained untouched by the very forces that drove others to despair or elation.

as he stood amidst the debris, a sense of profound solitude enveloped him. He was a being of intellect and precision, existing in a world of feelings he could never truly grasp. his mind was a labyrinth of strategy and calculation, each thought meticulously honed to serve his purpose. he was a creature of logic in a realm of chaos, a master of a game whose rules he understood but whose essence remained forever beyond his reach.

and yet, despite this chilling detachment, there was an undeniable truth that lingered in the shadows of his consciousness. beneath the veneer of calculated indifference and the mask of emotional vacancy, he was still human. his actions, though devoid of conventional empathy, were driven by a deeply rooted sense of self-preservation and a pursuit of his own desires. in his solitary reflections, there was a flicker of the same existential questioning that plagued the rest of humanity—a search for meaning, a quest for identity, and a confrontation with his own mortality.

in that abandoned warehouse, amidst the debris of a world he navigated with clinical precision, the true nature of his humanity lay bare. it was not in the warmth of human connection or the depth of emotional engagement but in the quiet recognition of his own existence. he was still bound by the same inescapable truths that defined all humans—the quest for understanding, the struggle for control, and the inevitable confrontation with his own limitations. it became clear that despite his chilling detachment and calculated demeanor, he was still human, after all.

jeong jaehyun stumbled out of the warehouse, the weight of his actions pulling him down like a leaden shroud. the night air was crisp and harsh against his skin, a stark contrast to the suffocating gloom he had just escaped. his hands, stained with fresh blood, trembled uncontrollably as he stared at them in horror. the crimson splatters seemed to mock him, painting a grotesque tableau of the violence that had just transpired. each step he took was uncertain, as if the ground beneath him could give way at any moment. his mind raced, trying to make sense of the chaos, but the cold, rational part of him remained eerily detached.

as he wandered onto the street, his disheveled figure moving erratically, a car approached in the distance. jaehyun's gaze was fixed on the bloodied hands, his thoughts mired in a growing sense of doom. the headlights of the car grew brighter, and he vaguely registered the sound of its engine roaring closer. to him, it seemed as though the man in the sky was reaching down to punish him for his sins, an abstract punishment for a crime he felt he could never fully comprehend.

the car’s headlights blinded him as it neared, and with a sudden, frantic lurch, he realized he was standing in the middle of the road. instinctively, he threw up his hands, but the vehicle did not slow. the screech of tires and a sharp, agonized honk pierced the night as you slammed the brakes, narrowly avoiding hitting him. the car skidded to a stop, its headlights illuminating his battered form.

your eyes widened in shock as you took in the sight before you. you rushed out of the car, your heart pounding with adrenaline. jaehyun, in his state of shock and confusion, flinched as you approached. he was convinced that you were another threat, someone who had come to finish what had been started. but as you drew closer, your gaze softening with unexpected concern, he was taken aback.

“get in the car,” you said abruptly, ignoring his stunned expression and the blood on his hands. your tone was calm, almost serene, a stark contrast to the tension that crackled in the air. he stared at you, bewildered. “who are you?”

you didn’t respond immediately. instead, you gestured toward the open car door, a silent invitation. with no better options and an overwhelming sense of dread, he climbed into the back seat, his movements slow and hesitant. as you slid back into the driver’s seat and shut the door, you glanced at him through the rearview mirror. your eyes met his, and to his utter disbelief, you smiled. “why are you helping me?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, laden with disbelief. “it’s good karma,” you replied with a gentle, enigmatic smile.

jaehyun stared at you in stunned silence, the absurdity of the situation washing over him. “it’s hard to believe you’d help a stranger everyone wants dead.” you chuckled softly, the sound almost musical. “well, you’d have to keep that a secret. my brother’s a cop.” for the past month, his face had been plastered on the screen of every news channel imaginable, as he had been one of the prime suspects regarding the suicide of a high school teacher. one that turned out to be a homicide in disguise.

his eyes widened in shock, and a heavy silence filled the car. you glanced back at his bloodied hands in the mirror. “you must’ve done it, judging by what just happened,” you said. he shook his head vehemently. “i didn’t do it,” he said, his voice raw and earnest. “i didn’t kill anyone. i gave the guy a good beating, that’s all.”

you smiled softly as you turned into your driveway, the car coming to a smooth halt. “he must’ve deserved it,” you said, your tone light and almost amused. jaehyun sat in stunned silence, his thoughts swirling in a tempest of confusion and fear. as the car settled, he looked at you, a mixture of gratitude and wariness in his eyes. in this fleeting encounter, he had found a peculiar semblance of solace, a stark contrast to the chaos that had so recently defined his life.

you guided jaehyun into your home, your hand gentle yet firm on his arm as he stumbled over the threshold. the dim lighting of your hallway cast long shadows, but there was a warmth in the air that contrasted sharply with the cold, sterile atmosphere of the warehouse he had just left behind. his breath came in short, ragged gasps, and he could feel the weight of the night pressing down on him, thick and suffocating.

“don’t worry,” you said softly, catching his wary glance toward the door. “my brother’s working the night shift. we won’t be disturbed.”

his skepticism lingered in his eyes, a dark cloud of doubt that refused to dissipate. but he nodded, too exhausted and disoriented to argue. you led him further inside, the soft creak of the floorboards the only sound that accompanied your footsteps. the house was modest, cozy, with a lived-in feel that suggested safety, a stark contrast to the barren emptiness he had known for so long. there were framed photos on the walls—smiling faces, captured memories that spoke of a life filled with love and warmth. it was a world so foreign to him, yet so alluring in its simplicity.

you brought him into the bathroom, the light flickering on with a quiet hum. the stark white of the tiles seemed almost too bright against the dark stains on his hands, a brutal reminder of the violence that had so recently unfolded. you turned on the faucet, the water rushing forth in a steady stream, and guided his hands beneath it. the warmth of the water was soothing against his skin, but it did little to wash away the guilt that gnawed at the edges of his mind.

as you gently scrubbed his hands, he watched you intently, his eyes never leaving your face. there was a calm determination in your expression, a focus that belied the gravity of the situation. you didn’t flinch at the sight of the blood, nor did you recoil in fear. instead, you worked methodically, your touch gentle and sure, as if this were the most natural thing in the world. mever had he encountered someone so sympathetic, so willing to help without question, so utterly fearless in the face of danger.

when his hands were finally clean, you handed him a towel, your fingers brushing against his as you did so. “come with me,” you said, your voice soft and inviting. he followed you down the hallway, past the living room where a small lamp cast a warm glow over the furniture, and into a bedroom. you opened the closet, pulling out one of your brother’s shirts—a simple white button-down, clean and neatly folded. “here,” you said, handing it to him. “it should fit you.”

jaehyun hesitated, the shirt hanging limply from his grasp. “why are you doing this?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper. you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his. there was no fear in your gaze, only a quiet understanding that seemed to pierce through the layers of detachment he had built around himself. “because you need help,” you replied simply. “and because i can.”

he studied your face, searching for any sign of deceit or ulterior motive, but found none. there was only sincerity, a rare and precious thing in his world. with a nod, he began to change, his movements slow and deliberate, as if he were testing the reality of the situation. you turned your back to give him privacy, busying yourself with gathering the discarded clothes. he slipped into the shirt, the fabric cool against his skin, and as he buttoned it up, he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of comfort—a sensation he hadn’t experienced in what felt like a lifetime.

once he was dressed, he looked at you, a question lingering on his lips. “how are you so sure i won’t kill you?” you turned to face him, that same soft smile playing on your lips. “because i know you’re not a killer,” you said, your tone light yet firm, as if the idea was the most obvious truth in the world.

the words struck him like a bolt of lightning, sending a shockwave through his mind. never had he heard those words before—words of belief, of trust. they resonated deep within him, filling a void he hadn’t realized existed. for so long, he had been defined by what others saw in him, by the darkness they projected onto him, but in this moment, you saw something different. and god, did it feel good to hear those words.

you led him to the kitchen next, the warm, inviting space filled with the faint scent of spices and home-cooked meals. he sat down at the table, his body tense and alert, while you moved around the kitchen with practiced ease. the sound of pots and pans clinking together, the hiss of the stove as you lit the burner, the gentle hum of the refrigerator—it all blended into a soothing symphony that lulled his mind into a state of wary calm.

as you cooked, he watched you closely, unable to tear his eyes away. there was a grace to your movements, a quiet confidence that radiated from you. It fascinated him, this effortless display of empathy and care. he wondered how someone could be so willing to help, so fearless for their own safety, when he had seen the worst of humanity.

you placed a simple meal in front of him—a bowl of soup, steaming hot, with a slice of bread on the side. the aroma was comforting, a reminder of something he couldn’t quite place, something from a past life that felt more like a distant dream. he hadn’t realized how hungry he was until the smell hit his senses, and his stomach tightened in response.

“thank you,” he said quietly, almost as if the words were foreign to him.

you smiled, watching him as he took his first hesitant bite. there was a vulnerability in his expression, a flicker of something you couldn’t quite name. you studied his face, the sharp lines of his jaw, the intensity in his eyes, and wondered how someone could seem to lack so much empathy. what had shaped him into this detached, calculating figure? what had stripped away the warmth and left only coldness behind? but despite the questions swirling in your mind, you didn’t pry. you simply let him eat in peace, your presence a quiet reassurance in the background.

when he was finished, you took the dishes away, your movements gentle and unhurried. the night was wearing on, and you could see the exhaustion etched into his features, the weight of the day pressing down on him like a heavy burden. you led him to a small guest room, the bed neatly made with fresh linens. it was a modest space, but it was warm and inviting, a stark contrast to the cold, sterile environments he was used to. “i’ve made up the bed for you,” you said, smoothing out the blankets one last time. “you should get some rest.”

he stood there, hesitant, as if the idea of sleep was something foreign to him. but as he looked at you, your kindness and calm demeanor slowly chipping away at his defenses, he nodded. “thank you,” he said again, the words feeling more natural this time, though still tinged with disbelief.

you gave him one last smile before stepping out of the room, closing the door softly behind you. the silence that followed was almost deafening, and as jaehyun sat on the edge of the bed, his mind raced. he couldn’t rest, not with the chaos swirling in his thoughts. the events of the night replayed over and over, but now they were interwoven with images of you—your calm smile, your gentle touch, your unwavering belief that he was something more than what the world saw.

he lay down, staring up at the ceiling, but sleep refused to come. the bed was too soft, too comfortable, and his mind was too restless. he turned over, his eyes drifting to the door, half-expecting you to return, to tell him it had all been a mistake, that you had seen him for what he really was—a monster, a sociopath, someone incapable of true human connection. but the door remained closed, and the only sound was the faint hum of the house settling around him. in the stillness of the night, jaehyun’s thoughts were consumed by you—his unlikely savior. he couldn’t understand it, couldn’t comprehend why you had helped him, why you had risked so much for someone like him. the warmth of your smile lingered in his mind, a beacon in the darkness that threatened to engulf him. and as he lay there, staring into the void, he realized that for the first time in a long while, he felt something. it wasn’t quite hope, but it was close—a faint glimmer of something better, something he had long since forgotten.

but sleep still eluded him. his mind raced with thoughts of you, and the fear that it was all too good to be true gnawed at him. he couldn’t shake the feeling that this kindness, this sanctuary, would vanish as quickly as it had appeared. but for now, in this quiet room, he allowed himself to believe, if only for a moment, that he wasn’t completely alone in the world.

jaehyun awoke to the soft light of dawn filtering through the thin curtains, casting delicate shadows across the room. for a moment, he remained still, his mind drifting in the hazy space between sleep and wakefulness. the events of the previous night felt like fragments of a distant dream, too surreal to be real. but as he blinked the sleep from his eyes, the solid reality of his surroundings began to settle in. the warmth of the bed beneath him, the quiet hum of the house, the faint scent of something comforting in the air—it all grounded him, pulling him back to the present.

he turned his head slightly and saw you standing in the doorway, your presence calm and reassuring. you were watching him with a soft smile, as if you had been waiting for him to wake up. the sight of you, so real and tangible, dispelled any lingering doubt he had. this wasn’t a dream. you were real. the kindness you had shown him, the safety you had provided—it was all real.

“good morning,” you greeted him softly, your voice a gentle lull in the quiet room. jaehyun sat up slowly, his body still stiff and sore from the night before. “morning,” he replied, his voice rough from sleep. he hesitated, unsure of what to say next. the words felt heavy on his tongue, weighed down by the unfamiliarity of expressing gratitude. but when he looked into your eyes, the sincerity there made it easier. “thank you, again.”

you shook your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “there’s no need to thank me, kaehyun. i’m just glad you’re okay.” there was a pause, a silence that felt both comforting and heavy with unspoken words. he broke it first, glancing at the clock on the wall. “i should get going. i have a busy day ahead of me.”

you nodded, understanding, though there was a hint of concern in your eyes. “qre you sure you don’t want any breakfast before you go? it’s no trouble at all.” he shook his head, standing up from the bed and straightening his borrowed shirt. “no, i need to get moving. but i appreciate the offer.”

you walked him to the door, the quiet of the morning enveloping you both as you stepped into the hallway. “take care of yourself,” you said, your voice filled with genuine concern. “i’ll see you around?” jaehyun paused at the doorway, turning to look at you one last time. there was something in your eyes, something that tugged at a place deep inside him that he had long thought dead. he didn’t know how to respond, didn’t know how to make sense of the connection that seemed to have formed between you in such a short span of time. but he nodded, the gesture small but full of unspoken meaning. “yeah,” he said finally, his voice quiet. “i’ll see you around.”

with that, he stepped out into the cool morning air, the door closing softly behind him. the world outside was still waking up, the streets quiet and the sky painted with the soft hues of dawn. as he walked, the events of the previous night replayed in his mind, each step taking him further from your home but not from the thoughts of you. your kindness lingered with him, a warmth that refused to fade even as the cold morning air bit at his skin.

as jaehyun made his way down the street, lost in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the car approaching from behind until it slowed down beside him. he glanced over, his eyes locking with those of the driver—a man with a stern expression, his gaze sharp and scrutinizing. there was something familiar about him, something that sent a shiver down his spine. the man’s eyes flicked down to the shirt jaehyun was wearing, recognition dawning in his features. it was your brother.

the moment seemed to stretch on forever, the tension between them palpable in the air. jaehyun’s heart pounded in his chest, the sudden realization that your brother knew who he was, and more importantly, what he was suspected of. he could see the gears turning in your brother’s mind, the connection being made between the shirt jaehyun wore and the one hanging in your brother’s closet. it was a small detail, but it spoke volumes.

the car sped off, leaving jaehyun standing in the middle of the sidewalk, a chill running down his spine that had nothing to do with the morning air. he cursed under his breath, realizing the trouble that was now headed your way. but what could he do? what could he say that would make a difference? he shook his head, forcing himself to keep walking, but the image of your brother’s piercing gaze stayed with him, a stark reminder that his problems were far from over.

meanwhile, your brother drove in silence, his mind racing with thoughts of you and the man he had just seen wearing his shirt. his knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, his mind filled with the gruesome images from the case that had been haunting him for weeks—the case he was sure jaehyun was involved in. he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong, that you were in danger, and it was all because of that man.

he pulled into the driveway with a screech, his anger bubbling just below the surface as he stepped out of the car. he slammed the door shut and marched into the house, his footsteps heavy and filled with purpose. the moment he saw you in the kitchen, his eyes narrowed, his voice laced with barely contained fury.

“were you with him?” he demanded, his tone sharp and accusing. you turned to face him, surprised by the sudden intensity in his voice. but you didn’t flinch, didn’t back down. you met his gaze head-on, your own expression calm but firm. “yes,” you admitted, your voice steady. “i was with jaehyun.”

your brother’s jaw tightened, his fists clenching at his sides. “are you out of your mind?” he snapped, the anger finally spilling over. “do you have any idea who that man is? what he’s accused of?” you held your ground, refusing to let his anger sway you. “he didn’t do it,” you said softly, but there was a conviction in your voice that made your brother pause.

“how do you know?” he demanded, his voice rising with frustration. “how can you be so sure he’s not playing you? that he’s not dangerous?” for the first time, you hesitated, the answer on the tip of your tongue but too complicated to put into words. you couldn’t explain the way you just knew, the way you had looked into jaehyun’s eyes and seen something that no one else seemed to see—something that told you he wasn’t capable of the horrors he was being accused of. but how could you explain that to your brother? how could you make him understand?

your silence spoke volumes, and your brother shook his head in disbelief, his expression a mix of anger and fear. “you’re too trusting,” he said finally, his voice tinged with desperation. “you can’t just believe in everyone. this isn’t some fairy tale where the bad guy turns out to be good in the end. this is real life, and people like him, they don’t change.”

“he’s not who you think he is,” you tried to argue, but your brother cut you off, his frustration boiling over. “stay away from him,” he ordered, his tone leaving no room for argument. “i don’t want you anywhere near him. if you see him again, you call me. do you understand?”

you looked at him, your heart aching at the fear and anger in his eyes. you knew he was only trying to protect you, to keep you safe, but you also knew that he was wrong about jaehyun. but what could you do? you couldn’t fight him on this, not without risking a rift between you. so you nodded, even though every fiber of your being wanted to protest, to argue that jaehyun wasn’t the monster your brother believed him to be. “fine,” you said quietly, your voice tinged with resignation. “i’ll stay away.”

the morning air was thick with the promise of rain as you made your way to the local store. the clouds overhead hung heavy and dark, a stark contrast to the bright resolve in your heart. you had no intention of staying away from jaehyun, no matter what your brother had said. there was something in the way jaehyun looked at you, something in the depth of his eyes that told you he wasn’t what the world believed him to be. your brother’s words echoed in your mind, but they couldn’t drown out the quiet, persistent certainty you felt. so, you went about your day as planned, pretending that nothing had changed, that your brother’s warning wasn’t still ringing in your ears.

the store was quiet when you arrived, the usual hum of life dulled by the oppressive weight of the storm that threatened to break. you wandered the aisles, picking out the things you needed—a few groceries, some toiletries, nothing too out of the ordinary.bBut as you reached for a carton of milk, you couldn’t help but wonder if you should pick up something extra, something you might offer jaehyun should you cross paths with him again. the thought brought a small smile to your lips, a secret shared only with yourself.

your basket filled, you made your way to the register, exchanging pleasantries with the cashier as you paid for your items. the moment you stepped outside, however, you were met with the harsh reality of the storm that had been building all morning. the rain came down in sheets, pounding against the pavement with a ferocity that took you by surprise. you paused just outside the door, bags in hand, as the rain soaked through your clothes almost instantly. you raised an arm to shield your head, but it did little to protect you from the downpour.

you cursed under your breath, glancing around for any cover you could find, but the rain was relentless. it was as if the heavens had opened up, and you were caught in the middle of it with no escape. you shivered, the cold seeping through your clothes, and just as you were about to resign yourself to the wet, uncomfortable walk home, you felt something warm and dry settle over your head.

startled, you looked up, your heart skipping a beat as you found jaehyun crouched beside you, his jacket held above both your heads as a makeshift umbrella. his presence was like a jolt of electricity, unexpected yet oddly comforting. his face was calm, expressionless even, but his actions spoke louder than words ever could. “where did you come from?” you asked, your voice laced with surprise as you stared at him.

he didn’t answer right away, his gaze fixed ahead as he guided you under the shelter of his jacket. “it doesn’t matter,” he finally said, his tone flat, almost detached. “you’re going to catch a cold if you stay out here.” there was something so inherently touching in his words, a care that seemed almost out of place given the stoic expression on his face. his voice was devoid of emotion, but the simple act of shielding you from the rain said more than any words ever could.

a small, amused smile tugged at the corners of your lips despite the rain. “you must feel like a gentleman,” you teased lightly, trying to coax a reaction out of him.

he looked at you then, his dark eyes reflecting the storm around you both. “i think it’s better not to feel,” he replied, his voice as calm and steady as the rain pouring down around you. you couldn’t help but scoff, shaking your head slightly. “yeah, right,” you murmured, though there was no real bite to your words. you knew better than that. he might try to hide it, but you could see the turmoil beneath the surface, the conflict he kept buried deep within.

without another word, jaehyun guided you toward the bus stop, his jacket still held protectively over your head. the rain continued to fall in torrents, but the small shelter of the bus stop provided some relief. you both stepped under it, and jaehyun finally lowered his arm, letting the jacket fall to his side.

“thank you,” you said, your voice soft as you looked up at him. the rain had plastered your hair to your face, and you could feel the cold biting at your skin, but you couldn’t help the warmth that spread through your chest at his gesture. “that was really kind of you.” he shrugged, his expression still guarded. “it’s the least i can do.”

there was a pause, the sound of the rain filling the silence between you. you studied him, noting the way his hair clung to his forehead, the way his clothes were as drenched as yours. and yet, there was a quiet strength in him, a resolve that made you believe he would do this all over again if it meant keeping you safe. “are you headed home?” you asked, breaking the silence. he nodded, his gaze flicking to the side before returning to you. “yeah, but i hope to see you soon.”

something about the way he said it, so simple yet so heavy with unspoken meaning, made your heart flutter in your chest. before you could respond, jaehyun turned to leave, the jacket still clutched in his hand. but instead of taking it with him, he draped it over your shoulders, the warmth of the fabric immediately comforting against your cold, wet skin. you opened your mouth to call after him, to tell him to take it back, but before you could get the words out, he was already gone, disappearing into the rain like a ghost. you stood there for a moment, the jacket draped over your shoulders and the scent of him lingering in the air around you. the rain continued to fall, but it was as if the world had gone still, the only sound the steady rhythm of your heartbeat echoing in your ears.

you pulled the jacket tighter around yourself, a small smile playing on your lips as you turned back toward the bus stop, the weight of his actions settling over you like a warm blanket. despite everything—your brother’s warnings, the suspicions that surrounded him—you knew you couldn’t stay away from him. there was something in him, something that called to you, something that made you want to believe in him. and as you waited for the rain to let up, you knew deep down that this wouldn’t be the last time your paths crossed.

jaehyun’s apartment was a place where silence reigned, a heavy, oppressive silence that seemed to seep into the walls, swallowing any hint of life or warmth. the space was eerily empty, devoid of anything that might give it the feeling of a home. the only light came from a single, bare bulb hanging from the ceiling, casting long, harsh shadows across the room. the walls were bare, painted a dull, lifeless gray that matched the concrete floor beneath his feet. there was no furniture, save for a single chair in the center of the room, where the cries of a man echoed off the walls, growing louder with each passing second.

the man in the chair struggled against his restraints, his hands tied tightly behind his back, his arms bound to the sides of the chair. q towel was wrapped around his face, tucked cruelly into his mouth, muffling his desperate pleas. his eyes were wild with fear, darting around the room, searching for some escape, some way out of this nightmare. but there was none. the only thing he could see was jaehyun, standing in front of him, his expression as cold and emotionless as the room itself.

his eyes were fixed on the man, unblinking, as he crouched down in front of him, bringing himself to eye level. his face was a mask of indifference, betraying no hint of the thoughts that might be running through his mind. he didn’t speak right away, didn’t acknowledge the man’s muffled cries. instead, he simply watched, his gaze steady and unyielding, as if he were looking right through him, into the very core of his being.

the man’s cries grew louder, more frantic, as he realized there was no mercy in those cold eyes staring back at him. he shook his head violently, trying to dislodge the towel from his mouth, trying to make himself heard, to beg for his life. but jaehyun didn’t move, didn’t react. he simply waited, letting the man exhaust himself in his futile struggle, until finally, his movements slowed, his cries turning to quiet, broken sobs.

and then, in a voice that was almost too calm, too measured, jaehyun spoke. “it’s a shame you told your sister to stay away from me.”

your brother’s eyes widened in horror, his muffled cries returning with a renewed intensity as he realized the gravity of those words. he thrashed against his restraints, but there was no escape. jaehyun remained still, his gaze unwavering as he reached into his back pocket, pulling out a small, sleek handgun. the metal glinted ominously in the dim light, and the sound of the gun being loaded echoed through the empty apartment like a death knell.

his expression didn’t change as he continued, his voice eerily calm, almost detached. “all of this could’ve been avoided.”

there was no anger in his tone, no trace of the emotions that might accompany such a statement. it was as if he were commenting on the weather, or discussing something as mundane as the time of day. your brother in the chair could only watch in terror, his cries reaching a fever pitch as jaehyun calmly raised the gun, leveling it at his forehead. the silence that followed was deafening, the weight of it pressing down on the room like a suffocating blanket. and then, without a moment’s hesitation, he pulled the trigger.

the sound of the gunshot was deafening in the small, enclosed space, reverberating off the walls with a violence that shook the very air around them. your brother’s head snapped back, his body going limp as the life was extinguished from his eyes in an instant. blood splattered against the walls, dark and wet, staining the dull gray with a stark, vivid red. the room was still again, the only sound the faint, echoing ring of the gunshot that slowly faded into silence.

jaehyun stood, his movements slow and deliberate, as he tucked the gun back into his pocket. his face remained expressionless, devoid of any hint of what he might be feeling. there was no remorse in his eyes, no regret, only a cold, unfeeling detachment as he looked down at the lifeless body slumped in the chair. for a moment, he simply stood there, staring at the man he had just killed, as if contemplating something, though what, no one could say. and then, without a word, without a second glance, he turned and walked away, leaving the apartment as empty and silent as it had been before. the door closed behind him with a soft click, and the only evidence that he had ever been there at all was the body left in his wake.

the silence in your home was a stark contrast to the tension that had lingered in the air earlier. your brother was gone, his absence marked only by the note he had left on the fridge. you saw it the moment you walked into the kitchen, a small scrap of paper taped to the metal door, the words scrawled in his familiar handwriting: “had to pick up a few more shifts because of the case. don’t wait up.” you read the note twice before crumpling it in your hand and tossing it into the trash. it wasn’t unusual for him to be gone, especially with the weight of the ongoing investigation. you brushed off the small twinge of unease that had settled in your chest and tried to push your thoughts elsewhere.

you spent the next hour lounging around the house, flipping through tv channels, but nothing could hold your attention for long. the rooms felt empty, hollow almost, and the silence that once brought you comfort now only served to remind you of the isolation. you moved from the couch to the kitchen, from the kitchen to the bedroom, restless and bored. eventually, you found yourself standing in front of the mirror, contemplating your reflection. the idea of heading out had been growing steadily in the back of your mind, a distraction from the loneliness that clung to you like a second skin.

you decided to go to the bar. it wasn’t a place you frequented often, but tonight, the thought of being surrounded by people, the hum of conversation, and the dim lights felt like exactly what you needed. you took your time getting ready, not rushing the process. the dress you chose was one that always made you feel confident, a deep, rich color that clung to your figure in all the right ways. it wasn’t overly revealing, but it had a certain elegance to it, a subtle allure that drew the eye. you spent a few extra moments on your makeup, accentuating your features, adding a touch of color to your lips, and just enough liner to make your eyes pop.

as you stood back to admire your reflection, you couldn’t help but smile at how you looked. stunning, even if it was just for yourself. before you left, you grabbed jaehyun’s jacket, the one he had draped over you in the rain. you wrapped it around yourself, the fabric still carrying the faintest scent of him, a mix of something clean and crisp, yet undeniably masculine. it was comforting, in a way that you couldn’t quite place, as if wearing it provided an extra layer of protection.

the bar was dimly lit, the kind of place where people went to forget the outside world for a while. the warm, amber light filtered through the haze of cigarette smoke, casting soft, flickering shadows across the room. the low hum of chatter and the clink of glasses filled the air, blending together into a background noise that was almost soothing. you found a seat at the bar, ordering yourself a drink and settling into the solitude of your thoughts.

the first sip of your drink warmed you from the inside out, easing the tension in your shoulders as you let yourself relax. the bartender was friendly enough, offering you a smile as he set your drink down in front of you, but he didn’t pry, didn’t ask questions. he could probably tell you were here to be alone, to enjoy your own company, and for that, you were grateful.

you sipped your drink slowly, savoring the burn of alcohol as it slid down your throat, your eyes drifting over the scene around you. people moved through the space in pairs or groups, laughter and conversation flowing freely between them, but none of it reached you. you were content in your bubble of solitude, letting the world fade into the background. but then, out of nowhere, you felt it—a presence behind you, the sensation of someone standing too close, invading your space. you stiffened slightly, your hand tightening around your glass as the man leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

“hey, beautiful,” he drawled, his voice low and smooth, dripping with the kind of false charm that set your teeth on edge. “what’s a pretty thing like you doing here all alone? wouldn’t you rather come home with me?”

you resisted the urge to recoil, instead forcing yourself to stay calm as you replied, “i’m not interested.”

but he didn’t take the hint. his hand grazed your lower back, fingers trailing over the curve of your hip before dropping lower, brushing against your ass with a familiarity that made your skin crawl. “come on,” he murmured, his voice dripping with arrogance, “don’t be like that.”

you were about to turn around and shove him away, your irritation boiling over into anger, when suddenly, his touch was ripped away. there was a blur of motion, and before you could fully register what was happening, the man was on the ground, sprawled out at your feet.

jaehyun was on top of him, his expression a mask of cold fury as his fist slammed into the man’s face, again and again, the sickening crunch of bone meeting bone echoing through the bar. the man’s cries of pain were muffled by the impact, blood splattering across the floor as jaehyun’s blows grew more violent, more relentless.

you were frozen in shock, your mind struggling to process the scene unfolding in front of you. jaehyun’s expression was one of terrifying calm, his movements precise and controlled, but there was something in his eyes, something dark and dangerous that sent a chill down your spine.

“jaehyun, stop,” you finally found your voice, reaching out to grab his arm, trying to pull him off the man. but it was like trying to move a mountain—he was immovable, his focus entirely on the task at hand, the brutal act of violence he was committing with such cold detachment. “jaehyun, please!” you pleaded, your voice trembling as you tugged harder at his arm, desperation creeping into your tone.

it wasn’t until you locked eyes with him, your gaze pleading and terrified, that something in him shifted. the hardness in his expression softened ever so slightly, and he paused, his fist hovering in the air, mid-strike. his chest heaved with exertion, and for a moment, the only sound was the ragged breathing of the man beneath him, his face a bloodied mess. slowly, he lowered his fist, his eyes never leaving yours. the bar had fallen silent, all eyes on the two of you, the tension thick and suffocating. the bartender was already on the phone, calling the police, and you knew you had to get jaehyun out of there before they arrived.

you grabbed his hand, your grip firm as you pulled him to his feet. he didn’t resist, allowing you to lead him out of the bar, the two of you pushing through the crowd of stunned onlookers. the moment you stepped outside, the cool night air hit you, a stark contrast to the suffocating atmosphere inside the bar. you didn’t stop until you were a few blocks away, your heart pounding in your chest, your mind racing with the events that had just unfolded. you finally let go of his hand, turning to face him, your breath coming in short, sharp gasps.

“what were you thinking?” you demanded, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger. he didn’t answer right away. his expression was unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, something that told you he wasn’t as unaffected by what had just happened as he appeared to be. he reached out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, his touch surprisingly gentle given the violence you had just witnessed.

“i couldn’t let him hurt you,” he said quietly, his voice void of emotion, but there was something beneath the surface, something raw and vulnerable that he was trying desperately to keep hidden. you wanted to be angry with him, to demand an explanation, but the words caught in your throat. instead, you found yourself nodding, the adrenaline slowly draining from your system, leaving you feeling weak and shaky.

the night air was cool against your skin as you walked alongside him, leading him back to your house. the streetlights cast long shadows across the pavement, and the distant sounds of the city seemed to fade away as the two of you walked in silence. your heart was still racing from the events at the bar, but the tension had begun to ebb away, replaced by a heavy, lingering exhaustion. he walked quietly beside you, his hands tucked into the pockets of his jacket. his face was calm, his expression unreadable, but you could sense the turmoil beneath the surface. the adrenaline of the fight had drained away, leaving behind a man who was clearly grappling with something deeper, something darker.

as the two of you neared your house, you felt a knot of anxiety tighten in your chest. you had been turning over your thoughts since you left the bar, trying to find the right words to say. it wasn’t just about what had happened tonight—it was about everything. about the man standing next to you, and the path he seemed to be walking down.

you slowed your pace, eventually coming to a stop at the corner of the street, just a few houses away from your own. jaehyun stopped too, his gaze shifting to you, his eyes dark and questioning. “i need to tell you something,” you said, your voice soft, almost hesitant. the words were difficult to say, but you knew you had to.

he tilted his head slightly, his eyes narrowing in concern. “what is it?” he asked, his voice low, steady. you took a deep breath, gathering your courage. “you have to stop what you’re doing, jaehyun. you have to change.”

for a moment, there was nothing but silence between you. the street was empty, the night quiet, and you could hear the distant hum of cars in the background. jaehyun’s expression remained neutral, but you could see the flicker of something in his eyes, a shadow of doubt or fear that he was trying to hide. he turned his gaze away, looking off into the distance. “i don’t think I can,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. there was a heaviness to his words, a resignation that weighed down on your heart.

you reached out, gently touching his arm, drawing his attention back to you. “please, jaehyun. try, for me.”

those last words seemed to hit him harder than anything else you had said. his eyes met yours again, and for the first time since you had met him, you saw something soften in his expression. his cold, guarded exterior cracked just enough for you to see the man beneath, the one who had buried himself under layers of violence and detachment.

slowly, almost imperceptibly, a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. it was faint, barely there, but it was real. “i’ll try,” he said, his voice gentler than before. “for you.”

the relief that washed over you was immediate, a wave of warmth that chased away the lingering anxiety in your chest. you smiled back at him, squeezing his arm lightly before letting go. “thank you,” you whispered, your voice full of emotion. with that, the two of you continued your walk, the distance between your house and the corner where you had stopped feeling much shorter now. when you reached your front door, you unlocked it and stepped inside, the familiar comfort of home greeting you as you crossed the threshold. jaehyun followed, closing the door behind him.

the quiet of your home was a stark contrast to the chaos of the bar. it felt like a sanctuary, a safe haven from the outside world, and as you kicked off your shoes and hung up your jacket, you could feel the tension in your body begin to ease. you glanced over at jaehyun, who stood near the door, his eyes scanning the room as if taking in every detail. there was a subtle shift in his demeanor, a slight relaxation in his posture, though his eyes remained guarded. he watched you as you moved around the house, his gaze following your every step.

“do you wanna watch something?” you asked, trying to break the silence. you didn’t want him to leave just yet, not when there was still so much unspoken between you. he nodded, his expression softening. “sure.”

you walked over to the living room and settled on the couch, grabbing the remote and flipping through the channels until you found something that caught your interest. jaehyun joined you, sitting down beside you, though he kept a respectable distance. the television flickered to life, casting a warm glow across the room. the sound of the show filled the air, but your attention was only half on the screen. you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, noticing the way his eyes occasionally flicked toward you, as if he was trying to understand you, to decipher the thoughts that were running through your mind.

after a while, you got up and went to the kitchen, the idea of cooking something for the both of you suddenly appealing. the act of cooking had always been therapeutic for you, a way to clear your mind and focus on something simple, something tangible. you began gathering ingredients, moving around the kitchen with practiced ease, and you felt Jaehyun’s presence behind you, watching you.

“you don’t have to do that,” he said, his voice soft, almost hesitant. you turned to him, offering a small smile. “i want to. it’s nice to have someone to cook for.”

he didn’t say anything in response, but the look in his eyes spoke volumes. there was something almost vulnerable in his gaze, a quiet appreciation that he didn’t know how to express in words. he watched as you moved around the kitchen, his eyes never leaving you, as if he was trying to memorize every detail of this moment. the two of you fell into a comfortable rhythm, the tension that had once hung between you slowly dissipating. he offered to help, and though he was clumsy in the kitchen, you appreciated the effort. it was a small thing, but it meant more than he could possibly know.

when the food was ready, you brought the plates to the living room, the two of you settling back on the couch to eat. the television continued to play in the background, but neither of you paid much attention to it. the conversation between you was quiet, subdued, but there was a warmth to it that hadn’t been there before. as you finished your meal, you leaned back against the couch, feeling content and at peace. he set his plate aside and turned to you, his gaze lingering on your face. there was something in his eyes, something soft and unguarded, that made your heart skip a beat.

“you’re— different,” he said quietly, his voice almost reverent. you raised an eyebrow, smiling softly. “different how?”

he didn’t answer right away, his eyes searching your face as if trying to find the right words. “gentle,” he finally said, his voice barely above a whisper. “sweet.”

the words were simple, but they carried a weight that made your breath catch. you could see the sincerity in his eyes, the way he looked at you as if you were something precious, something he didn’t quite know how to handle but was afraid of losing. for a moment, neither of you spoke. the silence was heavy, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. it was filled with unspoken words, with the quiet understanding that something had shifted between you. something that neither of you were quite ready to acknowledge, but that you both felt all the same.

you reached out, your hand finding his, and you squeezed it gently. “you don’t have to be different with me, jaehyun,” you said softly. “just be you.” a small smile tugged at his lips, and for the first time, you saw a glimpse of the man he could be—the man he wanted to be, for you.

the night wore on, and as the minutes ticked by, you found yourself slowly succumbing to the warmth of the couch and the soft, comforting murmur of the television. the day’s events had taken their toll, and the quiet, steady presence of jaehyun beside you brought a sense of security you hadn’t realized you were craving. your eyelids grew heavy, each blink becoming slower than the last, until eventually, your head began to tilt to the side. he noticed the subtle shift in your posture, the way your body gradually leaned toward him as sleep claimed you. he stiffened slightly, unsure of what to do. it was new territory for him—uncharted and strange.

he wasn’t used to this kind of closeness, to the softness of another person so near. but as he turned his gaze to you, watching the way your features relaxed into sleep, something inside him shifted. the hardness, the constant alertness that had been ingrained in him for so long, seemed to melt away, leaving behind a quiet, unfamiliar stillness.

you looked so peaceful, so vulnerable. your breathing was slow and steady, your chest rising and falling in a gentle rhythm. your lips were slightly parted, and a few strands of hair had fallen across your face. he stared at you, his eyes tracing the delicate lines of your features—the curve of your cheek, the soft sweep of your lashes, the way your lips curled up just slightly at the corners, as if you were dreaming of something pleasant. for a long moment, he simply watched you, his mind strangely quiet. there was no rush of thoughts, no internal dialogue. just silence. and in that silence, he realized something—he wasn’t just watching you. he was admiring you.

hesitantly, as if testing the waters, he let his hand fall, his fingers hovering just above your skin. he hesitated for a heartbeat, then let his hand drop to your face, his palm brushing against your cheek. the warmth of your skin surprised him, sending a jolt of something foreign through him—something he couldn’t quite name but didn’t want to ignore. his thumb moved of its own accord, tracing the soft curve of your cheekbone. your skin was smooth under his touch, warm and inviting. he didn’t feel the usual surge of aggression that often accompanied physical contact, nor did he feel the emptiness that had become his constant companion. what he felt was something different—something that made his chest tighten and his breath catch in his throat.

his thumb continued its slow, reverent path, moving down to trace the outline of your jaw. the motion was gentle, almost tender, as if he was afraid of waking you or breaking the fragile peace that had settled over the two of you. his gaze lingered on your face, on the soft curve of your lips, the way your lashes fanned out against your skin. he had never really looked at you like this before, never taken the time to truly see you. and now that he was, he couldn’t look away. you were beautiful.

the thought slipped into his mind unbidden, startling him with its intensity. he hadn’t thought much about beauty before—hadn’t allowed himself to. But now, with you asleep beside him, your face relaxed and free of worry, he couldn’t help but think it. you were beautiful in a way that was more than just physical. it was in the way you had looked at him earlier, the way you had asked him to try, for you. It was in the softness of your voice, the gentleness of your touch, the quiet strength that seemed to radiate from you.

he found himself marveling at it, at the way you seemed to make everything else fade away, leaving only this moment, this connection between the two of you. the foreign feeling in his chest grew stronger, spreading through him like a slow-burning fire. it was warm, almost comforting, and for the first time in a long while, he didn’t feel alone. he didn’t feel empty. he felt something.

jaehyun wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, his hand resting against your cheek, his thumb gently caressing your skin. time seemed to stretch, each second blending into the next, until it felt like the whole world had narrowed down to just the two of you, here on this couch, in this quiet, darkened room. eventually, he felt his own eyelids grow heavy, the day’s events catching up to him as well. but he didn’t want to move, didn’t want to break the connection between you. so he stayed where he was, his hand still resting against your cheek, his body leaning ever so slightly toward yours.

his eyes drifted closed, and he let himself relax, the tension in his shoulders easing as he finally allowed himself to give in to the pull of sleep. the last thing he felt before he drifted off was the warmth of your skin against his palm, and the last thing he saw in his mind’s eye was the peaceful look on your face. and then he was asleep, the two of you side by side on the couch, wrapped in a cocoon of quiet, shared warmth.

the morning light filtered in through the half-drawn curtains, casting a soft, golden glow over the room. you stirred slowly, the warmth beneath you unfamiliar yet comforting. qs your eyes fluttered open, you realized that your head was resting in jaehyun's lap. he was still asleep, his breathing steady and deep, his hand resting lightly against your arm as if even in sleep, he was unconsciously holding onto you.

you blinked a few times, adjusting to the morning light, and looked around. the apartment was still and quiet, almost eerily so. there was no sign of your brother, and you didn’t know whether to feel concerned or relieved by his absence. part of you expected to hear the familiar sounds of him moving around the house, making coffee or getting ready for the day, but there was nothing. just silence.

your thoughts drifted to jaehyun, and as you shifted slightly in his lap, he began to stir. his eyelids fluttered, and then his eyes opened slowly, blinking against the light. for a moment, he seemed disoriented, as if he had forgotten where he was. but then his gaze settled on you, and a softness crept into his eyes that you had never seen before.

“good morning,” you whispered, your voice still heavy with sleep. “morning,” he murmured back, his voice low and husky. there was a brief silence as you both took in the situation, the strange intimacy of waking up like this.

“i’m sorry,” you began, a little flustered, as you started to sit up. “i hope i didn’t make you uncomfortable…” before you could finish, he shook his head, quick and sure. “no, it was great,” he said, his tone almost too earnest. there was a sincerity in his words that made your heart skip a beat.

a small smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you pushed yourself up and off his lap. the cool air of the room made you shiver slightly, but you shook it off as you stretched. “how about i make us some breakfast?” you suggested, eager to fill the quiet with something other than the racing thoughts in your mind. he nodded, watching you closely as you moved about the kitchen. the normalcy of it all felt surreal—cooking breakfast, making coffee, jaehyun quietly observing you from his place on the couch as if it were the most natural thing in the world. but it wasn’t. nothing about this was normal, and yet, you found yourself wanting to make the most of it. to linger in this moment just a little longer.

you focused on the task at hand, cracking eggs into a bowl, whisking them with a practiced ease. as you poured the mixture into the pan, the sizzle of the eggs against the hot surface filled the silence, and you let out a small, contented sigh. “you shouldn’t work so much,” he said suddenly, breaking the silence. his voice was quiet, but there was an edge to it that made you pause.

you glanced over your shoulder at him, your brow furrowing slightly. “i like working,” you replied, turning back to the stove. “besides, it keeps my mind busy.” he didn’t respond immediately, but you could feel his eyes on you, studying you, as if trying to understand something that eluded him. the weight of his gaze was almost palpable, and for a moment, you were hyper-aware of every movement you made.

as you continued to work, you didn’t notice jaehyun slowly rising from the couch. he moved quietly, almost predatorily, his eyes never leaving you. there was a tension in his movements, something raw and primal that made him seem like a hunter stalking his prey. but it wasn’t that simple. he wasn’t looking at you like you were prey—he was looking at you like you were something precious, something delicate that needed to be protected. the comparison didn’t even feel right in his mind. no, it was more like he was drawn to you, like you were a rare, blooming flower amidst a field of withering ones. he felt this overwhelming urge to hold onto you, to shield you from the world before you could fade away.

you felt his presence before you saw him, a subtle shift in the air that made you pause. when you turned, your breath caught in your throat as you found him standing so close, his expression intense, yet vulnerable in a way that left you momentarily speechless. his eyes widened slightly, as if surprised by his own actions, but before he could apologize or step back, you smiled up at him, a soft, understanding smile that seemed to ease the tension in his shoulders.

“i’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand half-raised as if unsure whether to reach out to you or not. you shook your head gently, closing the distance between you. “it’s okay,” you whispered back, your voice soothing. your hand came up to rest lightly on his arm, your touch grounding him in a way that nothing else ever had.

the two of you stood there, the air thick with something unspoken, something electric that made your pulse quicken. you stared into each other’s eyes, the rest of the world fading into the background. You could see the conflict in his gaze, the way he was struggling with his emotions, with this unfamiliar territory. and then, without thinking, you leaned in.

it was a small movement, almost imperceptible, but jaehyun noticed. his breath hitched, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, he hesitated. but then, something inside him snapped, and he closed the distance between you, his lips finding yours in a gentle, hesitant kiss. the kiss was soft at first, almost tentative, as if he was afraid of hurting you, of breaking you. but as you responded, your lips moving against his with a quiet urgency, he began to relax. his hand came up to cup your face, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he deepened the kiss.

you felt a rush of warmth flood your chest, your heart pounding in your ears as you kissed him back, your arms wrapping around his neck to pull him closer. the world fell away, leaving just the two of you, connected in a way that felt both thrilling and terrifying. jaehyun’s other hand found your waist, his grip firm yet gentle as he lifted you with ease, placing you on the kitchen counter. the cool surface against your skin sent a shiver down your spine, but you hardly noticed, too caught up in the feel of his lips against yours, in the way his body fit perfectly against yours.

your legs wrapped around him instinctively, pulling him closer, deeper into the kiss. you could feel the tension in his muscles, the way he was holding himself back, afraid of losing control. but you didn’t want him to hold back. you wanted all of him—his strength, his passion, his intensity. when he finally broke the kiss, both of you were breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other as you tried to catch your breath. his hands were still on you, one resting on your waist, the other gently brushing the stray hairs from your face.

he looked at you then, really looked at you, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes that made your heart skip a beat. it was vulnerability, raw and unguarded, as if he was letting you see a part of him that no one else had ever seen. and then, without another word, he kissed you again.

this time, the kiss was more intense, more urgent, as if he was pouring all of his emotions into it. his hands roamed your body, exploring, memorizing every curve, every dip of your skin. you could feel his heart pounding against yours, could feel the way his breath hitched every time you moved. you lost yourself in the kiss, in the feel of him, in the way he made you feel. there was nothing else—no worries, no fears, just the two of you, here in this moment, wrapped up in each other. and for the first time in a long while, you felt safe.

you pulled back slightly, gasping for air, your eyes searching his. “i want you,” you whispered, your voice hoarse with desire. jaehyun’s eyes darkened, his pupils dilating with need. he didn’t say anything, but the way he looked at you spoke volumes. you reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it up and over his head, revealing the chiseled muscles that lay beneath. your hands roamed over his bare chest, feeling the heat of his skin, the beat of his heart beneath your fingertips.

he stepped closer, his hands sliding under your shirt, his touch sending waves of pleasure through your body. you moaned softly, arching into him as he kissed along your neck, his teeth grazing your skin just hard enough to leave a trail of goosebumps in their wake. you felt his hands unbutton your pants, his fingers deftly unhooking your bra, and a thrill shot through you. this was happening. you were really doing this with him, and it felt right.

his mouth found yours again, his tongue dancing with yours as he pushed your pants down your legs. you stepped out of them, your bare feet brushing against the cold kitchen tiles. he lifted you back onto the counter, his hands supporting your weight as he stepped between your legs. the heat of his body was intoxicating, making you want to melt into him, to never let go.

and then, with one simple movement, he entered you, filling you completely. you gasped, your nails digging into his back as the sensation overwhelmed you. it was unlike anything you’d ever felt before—so raw, so intense, so real. jaehyun’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mix of pleasure and something else—something deeper, something that made your heart ache.

you moved together, finding a rhythm that felt like it had been written just for the two of you. your bodies were one, moving in perfect harmony, as if they had been made to fit together. there was nothing but the sound of your ragged breaths, the slap of skin against skin, and the quiet moans that slipped from your lips. jaehyun’s movements grew more urgent, his grip on your hips tightening as he pushed deeper, harder.

you could feel yourself getting closer, the pressure building, your body tightening around him. “yes,” you moaned, your voice needy. “just like that, jaehyun. don’t stop.” he didn’t. he didn’t stop, didn’t hold back, giving you everything you’d ever wanted from him, everything you hadn’t even known you needed. and when you finally came, it was with his name on your lips, his eyes staring into yours, as if he could see straight into your soul. his own release followed shortly after, his body tensing, his eyes squeezing shut as he buried his face in your neck. you held onto him, feeling his warmth, his breath against your skin. for a moment, you just stayed like that, your bodies still connected, your hearts beating in sync.

once the tremors had subsided, he pulled back, his eyes searching yours. there was something in his gaze that was almost apologetic, but you knew it wasn’t for what just happened. it was for everything else—for all the times he’d held back, for all the things he hadn’t said. but in this moment, you didn’t need words. the connection you shared was more than enough.

you leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead, feeling the tension in his body ease. “it’s okay,” you murmured, stroking his hair. “i’m here. i’m not going anywhere.” and in that moment, despite his fears, despite the darkness that lurked beneath the surface, jaehyun allowed himself to believe you. because in your arms, he felt like he could finally let go.

the two of you wandered aimlessly through the quiet streets, the afterglow of your shared moment still clinging to the air between you. it was as if time had slowed down, allowing you to savor the warmth that lingered in your chest, the memory of his touch, his kiss, still fresh on your lips. he walked beside you, his steps measured, his gaze forward, yet you could sense the internal battle raging within him. his mind, always calculating, always detached, now struggled to reconcile this newfound vulnerability. he had spent so long keeping everyone at arm’s length, viewing the world through a lens of detachment and apathy. but with you, something was different. you made him feel, and that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

as you walked together, the scenery began to shift. the neighborhood around you changed, becoming less pristine, more worn. the buildings were old, some with peeling paint, others with broken windows patched haphazardly with plastic. the streets were littered with debris, and the once-vibrant graffiti that adorned the walls had faded into dull smudges of color. it was a stark contrast to the warmth you had just shared, and it made you pause.

“do you really live around here?” you asked softly, your voice tinged with concern as you took in your surroundings. he nodded, his jaw clenched as he continued to walk. there was a tension in his posture, a stiffness that hadn’t been there before. he was used to this environment, to the bleakness and the harshness of it, but he wasn’t used to sharing it with someone like you. he wasn’t used to someone seeing this part of his life, this part of him.

you watched him, noting the way his shoulders seemed to draw inwards, as if he were trying to shield himself from your gaze. without thinking, you reached out and took his hand in yours, lacing your fingers together in a simple, yet deliberate act of comfort. the gesture made him falter, his steps slowing as he looked down at your joined hands, surprise flashing in his eyes.

“you should come over to my place more often,” you said softly, offering him a smile that was both gentle and reassuring. “you don’t have to stay here if you don’t want to.”

he stared at you, as if trying to comprehend why you would offer something like that, why you would want him around more, especially after seeing where he lived. but instead of questioning it, he found himself nodding, the words of agreement slipping past his lips before he could overthink them. “i’d like that.”

you both walked in silence for a while longer, your hands still entwined, the weight of the world seemingly lighter with him beside you. eventually, you found yourselves at one of the old buildings, a towering structure with crumbling bricks and rusted fire escapes. jaehyun led you up the narrow stairwell, your footsteps echoing in the confined space, until you reached the rooftop.

the view from up here wasn’t the kind you’d typically associate with beauty. the streets below were cracked and dirty, the buildings surrounding you worn and decaying, the air heavy with the scent of pollution. but with jaehyun beside you, it didn’t matter. the two of you stood at the edge, looking out at the cityscape, the sun slowly sinking behind the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and orange.

he reached into his pocket and pulled out a joint, sparking it up with the ease of someone who had done it countless times before. he took a slow drag, the smoke curling around his lips before he offered it to you, a glint of something playful in his eyes. you raised an eyebrow, hesitant. you had never been one to indulge in substances like this, and the thought of him relying on them made you uneasy. but you could see the challenge in his gaze, the unspoken dare. he was testing you, trying to see how far you would go for him, if you were willing to step into his world, even if just for a moment.

with a small sigh, you took the joint from his hand, surprising him. “you promised me you’d try to be better,” you said quietly, your eyes meeting his. “i can try for you too.”

he blinked, clearly taken aback by your words, by the way you seemed so willing to step out of your comfort zone just for him. there was something about the way you said it, something so sincere, that it shook him to his core. he watched, almost in disbelief, as you brought the joint to your lips and inhaled. the smoke burned your lungs, and you coughed, but you tried again, this time more carefully, letting the warmth spread through your chest.

his heart skipped a beat as he saw you struggle to relax, trying to embrace something foreign to you, all for his sake. he had never expected this. never expected anyone to believe in him the way you did.

“i’m serious,” he said after a moment, his voice low, almost reverent. “about being better for you.” you exhaled slowly, the smoke leaving your lungs as you looked at him, your eyes soft and full of trust. “i know,” you whispered, and when he asked how you could be so sure, you simply smiled.

“i believe in you,” you replied, and those simple words made his heart flutter in a way he had never experienced before. it was a strange sensation, almost alien to him. he had spent so long feeling nothing, so long numbing himself to the world, and yet here you were, making him feel again.

the two of you passed the joint back and forth, the world around you beginning to blur and soften. the harsh edges of reality dulled, replaced by a warm haze that made everything feel distant, dreamlike. you were faded. the tension that had once been so present between you now melted away, replaced by a deep, shared connection that pulsed between you like a living thing. your limbs felt heavy, your thoughts slow and languid, but you didn’t mind. not when you were leaning against his shoulder, the weight of his arm around you, the warmth of his body grounding you. the world below might have been crumbling, but up here, with him, you felt safe.

jaehyun, too, felt something he hadn’t felt in a long time. love, or something close to it, something that made his heart swell and his mind quiet. he had always been a predator in his own world, moving through life with a cold detachment, taking what he wanted without care for the consequences. but with you, it was different. with you, he felt like he had found something worth protecting, something worth holding onto.

he glanced down at you, your head resting against his shoulder, your eyes half-lidded with the haze of the high. you looked peaceful, content, and it made something inside him soften. he wasn’t used to this, wasn’t used to feeling so tender, so vulnerable. but he didn’t hate it. not with you.

“thank you,” he murmured, his voice low and sincere, though he wasn’t sure if you heard him. maybe it didn’t matter. maybe you already knew. the two of you sat there in comfortable silence, the city below forgotten, the worries of the world slipping away. and as the sky darkened, the stars slowly appearing above, you both drifted into a quiet, shared peace, content to simply be in each other’s presence.

the days that followed your shared moment on that rooftop were different for jaehyun. the world seemed clearer, sharper, as if a fog had lifted, revealing all that he had been missing. his mind, usually so cold and calculating, now buzzed with an energy he hadn't felt in a long time. it was an unfamiliar sensation, but not an unwelcome one.

he didn’t want to die. not anymore. not when he finally had something—someone—worth living for. the darkness that had clung to him for so long, the apathy that had guided his every move, began to recede. the idea of losing himself to that darkness, of losing you in the process, terrified him more than anything.

for the first time in his life, he found himself actively avoiding the situations that once drew him in like a moth to a flame. he no longer sought out the chaos, no longer indulged in the reckless behaviors that had defined him for so long. the streets that once called to him with their promises of violence and danger now seemed empty, devoid of meaning. he didn’t want to get caught up in any more bad situations. he didn’t want to risk losing you. instead, he spent his days with a newfound purpose, a resolve to be better, to be someone you could trust, someone you could love. he found himself thinking of you constantly, your voice, your smile, the way you made him feel alive in a way he had never known before. every thought of you strengthened his resolve, reminding him of what was at stake. but the shadows of his past were not so easily escaped.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the city, jaehyun found himself alone, standing in an empty alleyway. the air was heavy with the scent of asphalt and exhaust, the quiet hum of the city in the distance. he sparked a cigarette, the familiar burn of nicotine filling his lungs as he leaned against the brick wall, lost in thought.

the sound of footsteps echoed in the alley, and he tensed, his senses sharpening. a woman’s voice cut through the silence, cold and commanding. “i know what you did.”

he turned slowly, his expression calm, controlled, as if her words hadn’t fazed him. the woman stood at the mouth of the alley, her uniform crisp, her badge glinting in the fading light. her gaze was steady, unyielding, as she looked at him with a mixture of disdain and certainty. he took another drag of his cigarette, letting the smoke curl around him as he met her gaze. “i don’t know what you’re talking about.”

she scoffed, her lips curling into a mirthless smile. “oh, i think you do. you killed him.”

his heart skipped a beat, but his face remained impassive, betraying nothing. his mind raced, analyzing, calculating his next move. he could feel the familiar pull of violence, the urge to silence her before she could say anything more. it would be so easy, so quick. but then he thought of you, of the promise he had made, and the darkness inside him hesitated.

“i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he repeated, his voice steady, almost bored.

the officer’s smile widened, her eyes gleaming with a twisted satisfaction. “it’s a shame. i wonder what your girlfriend would say if she knew you killed her brother.”

her words hit him like a sledgehammer, but he didn’t let it show. the cigarette burned between his fingers, but he didn’t move. the urge to attack her, to end this threat to his new life, surged within him, his muscles tensing, ready to spring. he could see it in his mind’s eye—grabbing her by the throat, the life draining from her eyes as she gasped for air. he could feel the adrenaline, the rush that came with the kill.

but then he saw your face, the way you had looked at him, the trust in your eyes. the thought of you finding out, of seeing the darkness in him, made his heart ache in a way he wasn’t used to. he couldn’t do it. mot because he was afraid of the consequences, but because he had promised you. he had promised to be better. so, he did something he had never done before. he walked away.

he dropped the cigarette, crushing it under his heel as he turned his back on the officer, on the temptation to give in to the darkness. every step he took away from her was a victory, a defiance of the person he used to be. the officer’s voice echoed in the alley, taunting, trying to goad him into a reaction. but he didn’t stop. for the first time in his life, he walked away from a fight, from the violence that had always defined him. and as he walked, he felt a strange sense of relief, a lightness that he hadn’t known he was capable of feeling.

he didn’t look back. he didn’t need to. he had made his choice, and it was a choice for you, for the life he wanted to build with you. the darkness would always be a part of him, lurking in the shadows, waiting for a moment of weakness. but for now, he was stronger. for now, he had something worth fighting for, something worth living for. and he wasn’t going to let anyone take that away from him. not even himself.

the days without your brother's presence felt like an eternity. every hour that passed was heavier than the last, each second a weight pressing down on your chest. the apartment, once filled with the sounds of his laughter, his footsteps, his voice, now felt eerily silent, as if the walls themselves were mourning his absence. you tried to carry on as if nothing was wrong, telling yourself that he was just busy, that he would walk through the door any moment, but deep down, you knew something was terribly, terribly wrong.

anxiety gnawed at you, a relentless, gnawing ache that twisted your stomach into knots. the pit in your stomach only deepened with each passing day. sleep was no longer a comfort but a battlefield where your worst fears came to life. you couldn't eat, couldn't focus, your mind constantly replaying the last time you saw him, wondering if you missed some sign, some warning that this would happen.

you tried to keep it together, to stay strong, but the fear was overwhelming. it was like a storm inside you, building in intensity until you felt like you might break apart. you needed someone, anyone, to tell you that everything would be okay, even if it was a lie. you needed comfort, a lifeline, something to anchor you before you were swept away by the tidal wave of grief and fear.

without thinking, your fingers found your phone, dialing a number that had become all too familiar. the ringing in your ear was a small lifeline, a thread connecting you to the one person who had come to mean so much to you in such a short time. the moment you heard jaehyun's voice on the other end of the line, calm and steady, you felt the dam inside you break.

“is something wrong?” he asked immediately, his voice tinged with a concern that was still new to him, still unfamiliar.

you tried to speak, but the words caught in your throat, choked by the sobs that you had been holding back for days. when you finally managed to get the words out, they were broken, fragmented, spilling out in a rush of desperation and fear. “something's wrong, jaehyun. i haven't seen my brother for days. he hasn't called, hasn't texted. i just know something’s happened, i can feel it.”

on the other end of the line, jaehyun was silent, but the sound of your cries cut through him like a blade. this grief, this sorrow that was not his own, was foreign to him, a bitter poison that seeped into his veins, paralyzing him with its weight. he was used to dealing with pain in others, usually inflicted by his own hand, but this, this was different. it was raw, unfiltered, and it made something inside him recoil, as if the grief itself was a living thing, clawing at his insides.

he wanted to make it stop, to ease your pain, but he didn’t know how. his mind raced, searching for the right words, the right thing to say, but all he could think of was the emptiness, the coldness that had always been his companion. he didn’t know how to comfort, didn’t know how to soothe. all he knew was that he couldn’t stand hearing you like this, couldn’t stand the thought of you suffering.

“he’s probably just busy,” he said, his voice softer than it had ever been. “you know how it is with work, sometimes it just takes over. I’m sure he’s fine. he’ll be back soon, and everything will be okay.”

he didn’t believe the words himself, but he needed you to believe them. he needed you to find some peace, some solace in the chaos that was tearing you apart. as he spoke, he could hear your breathing start to calm, your sobs quieting as his words wrapped around you like a fragile, protective shield.

“thank you, jaehyun,” you whispered, your voice trembling but filled with a small, fragile hope. “thank you for being there for me.” he felt something tighten in his chest, a sensation he didn’t recognize, a mixture of relief and something darker, something more dangerous. grief, foreign and unwelcome, twisted inside him, but it wasn’t the grief he felt for your brother, it was something else entirely. it was grief for you, for the pain you were in, for the vulnerability in your voice that made him want to protect you, to shield you from everything that could hurt you.

but grief was not something he was familiar with, not something he knew how to control. it festered inside him, turning, twisting, until it morphed into something more familiar—anger. his fingers tightened around the phone as he ended the call, his jaw clenching as the unwanted emotions surged through him, overwhelming his usual calm.

the aggression that had always been his default response, the darkness that had always been his shield, rose up inside him, demanding release. he stood abruptly, the chair in his room toppling over as he kicked it, the loud crash echoing in the small space. it wasn’t enough. the rage that had been born of grief and fear was a fire that demanded more destruction, more violence, but he fought it back, swallowing it down as he stood there, panting, his hands clenched into fists. but for all the rage that burned inside him, one thing was clear: he couldn’t let it consume him. not now. not when you needed him. he had to be strong, had to be better, for you. the darkness was still there, lurking just beneath the surface, but for now, he forced it down, buried it deep where it couldn’t touch you, where it couldn’t hurt you. for now, all he wanted was to be the person you needed him to be. and for the first time, that thought, that desire, was stronger than the darkness that had always defined him.

the weight of grief sat heavy on jaehyun’s chest, an unfamiliar sensation that gnawed at the edges of his sanity. he wasn’t used to this kind of emotional turmoil, this festering darkness that seemed to grow with each passing hour. the sorrow he felt wasn’t even his own—it was yours. but it had seeped into him, taken root, and now it was twisting into something he could hardly control.

he had tried to push it down, to bury it beneath layers of cold detachment, but it clawed its way back up, demanding to be felt, to be acknowledged. the grief wasn’t something he knew how to deal with, and so it quickly turned into anger. raw, burning anger that made his blood boil and his hands tremble. anger at your brother for dying, anger at himself for killing him, and anger at the world for making him feel so helpless.

he paced the small confines of his apartment, the walls closing in on him as his thoughts raced, each one darker than the last. his mind replayed your voice, the way it had broken over the phone, and it only fueled the fire inside him. he clenched his fists, trying to focus on anything else, anything that would take the edge off the searing rage that threatened to consume him.

just as he felt like he was about to lose control, a sharp knock on the door echoed through the room, cutting through the silence like a blade. his breath hitched, and he stopped in his tracks, his entire body tensing as the knock came again, louder, more insistent. he knew who it was even before he opened the door, a cold dread settling in his gut.

when he swung the door open, there she was—the police officer from before, her cold, piercing gaze locking onto his the moment the door creaked open. her presence was a reminder of the reality he was trying so hard to ignore, a reminder of the violence that simmered just beneath his skin.

“jaehyun,” she greeted, her voice dripping with the same disdain she had shown before. “i told you, i know what you did.”

his jaw tightened, and he forced himself to remain calm, to keep his emotions in check. he met her gaze with a cold, unreadable expression, trying to play it off like her words didn’t affect him, like he didn’t care about the accusations she was hurling his way. “i don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, his voice flat, devoid of emotion. but even as he spoke, his mind was racing, trying to figure out how to get rid of her, how to make her go away before the anger boiling inside him erupted.

she scoffed, taking a step into the room, her eyes narrowing as she looked him up and down. “don’t play dumb with me. i know you killed him. and it’s only a matter of time before the truth comes out.” the anger flared again, hot and uncontrollable, and he had to dig his nails into his palms to stop himself from lashing out. he could feel the darkness rising inside him, the need to silence her, to make her stop talking, stop threatening the life he was trying so hard to protect.

“it’s a shame,” she continued, her voice taunting, as if she could sense his inner turmoil and was reveling in it. “i really do wonder what your girlfriend will say when she finds out.”

her words hit him like a punch to the gut, knocking the air out of his lungs. the mention of you, of your connection to this, was like a match to gasoline, igniting the fury inside him to a level he had never experienced before. it wasn’t just anger anymore—it was pure, unadulterated rage, and it was directed at the woman standing in front of him. he wanted to strike out, to hurt her, to make her pay for the pain she was causing, but he hesitated. your voice, soft and pleading, echoed in his mind, a reminder of the promise he had made to you. he had promised to be better, to control himself, for you. but the rage was too much, too powerful, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

before he could think, before he could rationalize, he reached for the gun he had hidden away, the cold metal heavy in his hand. his movements were automatic, driven by instinct, by the need to protect what was his. the officer’s eyes widened in shock as she saw the weapon, but she didn’t have time to react. his finger squeezed the trigger, and the deafening sound of the gunshot echoed through the small apartment, shattering the silence.

she crumpled to the floor, the life leaving her eyes in an instant. the sight of her lifeless body, blood pooling around her, hit him like a tidal wave, washing away the anger and leaving only cold, stark reality in its wake. he stared at her, his breath coming in shallow, panicked gasps, as the full weight of what he had done crashed down on him.

the gun slipped from his hand, clattering to the floor as he stumbled back, his heart pounding in his chest. this wasn’t supposed to happen. he wasn’t supposed to lose control like this, not when he had promised you that he would be better. but it was too late now—what was done was done, and there was no going back.

panic surged through him, a cold, paralyzing fear that gripped him by the throat. he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, all he could see was the blood, the lifeless body that lay at his feet. and all he could think about was you, and how this would destroy you. his trembling hands fumbled for his phone, and he dialed your number with shaky fingers, his heart racing as he waited for you to pick up. when your voice came through the line, soft and filled with concern, it was like a lifeline, pulling him back from the brink of complete despair.

“jaehyun?” you asked, your voice gentle but tinged with worry. “what’s wrong?” he couldn’t find the words at first, his throat tightening with a mix of fear and guilt. when he finally spoke, his voice was hoarse, filled with a desperation he couldn’t hide.

“i made a mistake,” he choked out, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “i didn’t mean to.”

your alarmed silence on the other end only heightened his panic, and he could hear you moving, the sound of rustling as you hurried to get ready. “i’m coming over,” you said quickly, your voice filled with determination. “i’ll be there as soon as i can. just hold on, jaehyun. i’m on my way.”

as the line went dead, jaehyun stared down at the body on his floor, the reality of what he had done crashing down on him with relentless force. he knew there was no escaping this, no undoing what had been done. the darkness he had tried so hard to keep at bay had finally won, and now he was left to face the consequences. but all he could think about was you, and the look in your eyes when you found out what he had done. the guilt, the shame, and the fear were almost too much to bear, but he had to hold on. he had to see you one last time, even if it meant facing the truth of what he had become.

the frantic pounding of your heart echoed in your ears as you burst into jaehyun’s apartment, breathless and disheveled. the sight that greeted you was a horrific tableau of chaos and blood—a scene straight out of your worst nightmares. the lifeless body of the police officer lay sprawled on the floor, a pool of crimson spreading beneath her. the air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, mingling with the acrid tang of gunpowder.

you froze for a moment, the reality of the scene crashing down on you like a tidal wave. jaehyun stood in the center of the room, his face a mask of anguish and disbelief. his eyes were wild, darting from you to the body on the floor, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. “jaehyun,” you whispered, the word barely escaping your lips. the sheer horror of the scene gripped you, tightening around your chest like a vice. tears sprang to your eyes, but you forced them back, focusing on the man you had come to care for.

he stumbled towards you, his hands reaching out as if to grasp at some semblance of control. “i’m so sorry,” he choked out, his voice breaking. “i didn’t mean to—” before he could finish, you raised a hand, shaking your head with a numb acceptance. “it’s okay,” you said softly, though your voice was strained. “i knew you couldn’t change immediately.”

the words seemed to hit him like a physical blow. his eyes widened, disbelief etched into every line of his face. he looked as though he was teetering on the edge of a precipice, struggling to hold on to whatever shreds of composure he had left.

“please,” he pleaded, desperation flooding his voice. “get angry at me. yell at me. hit me. do something—”

you shook your head, your expression remaining resolute and eerily calm. in the midst of the chaos and the gore, you stood before him, the emotional turmoil contained within you like a storm waiting to break. he looked at you, his gaze searching for some sign of the anger or reproach he so desperately wanted from you. but your face remained a blank canvas, betraying nothing of the inner storm.

finally, he broke, his voice a strained whisper. “i killed your brother.”

the words hung heavy in the air between you, their impact undeniable. for a moment, time seemed to stand still. the intensity of the admission, combined with the grotesque reality of the scene, threatened to overwhelm you.

you took a deep breath, meeting his eyes with a steady gaze. “i know.”

the utter shock on his face was almost palpable. he stared at you, his mouth opening and closing as if he were trying to comprehend the depth of your reaction—or lack thereof. the warmth that had once graced your features had vanished, replaced by a stoic mask of acceptance.

“why?” jaehyun asked, his voice barely more than a whisper. “why would you love me and stay with me if you knew everything?” the question was raw, an unspoken plea for understanding that cut to the heart of his own struggle. you took a step closer, your eyes softening as you looked at him.

“because i believe in you,” you said quietly. “i knew you were trying. i knew that change takes time, and that sometimes, sometimes we falter.” the shock in his eyes deepened, his face a canvas of confusion and disbelief. the realization that you had accepted him despite everything, despite the monstrous act he had committed, was almost too much for him to process.

he swallowed hard, the weight of his guilt and remorse pressing down on him with suffocating force. “i’m so sorry,” he repeated, his voice breaking with raw emotion. without another word, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. the contact was gentle but firm, a silent promise that despite the horror and the pain, you were still there for him. you could feel him trembling against you, the strong, powerful man reduced to a fragile shell of his former self.

“it’ll all be okay,” you murmured into his ear, your voice filled with quiet conviction. he wanted to live, for the first time in forever. you wanted to live. you wanted to live alongside him, it was all you wanted. you wanted to live.

jaehyun clung to you, his breaths coming in shuddering gasps. the reality of what he had done seemed to sink in fully now, and he was left with nothing but the crushing weight of his actions and the glimmer of hope that you represented. as you held him, the enormity of the situation began to settle, the darkness that had enveloped him slowly giving way to the fragile light of your presence.

the room was filled with an oppressive silence, the heavy weight of the aftermath pressing down on both of you. as you slowly pulled away from jaehyun, his eyes locked onto yours, full of a mix of desperation and confusion. but your attention was drawn to the sound of hurried footsteps on the stairs. the tension in the air thickened as an officer burst into view, gun drawn, her expression grim and unyielding.

your heart pounded in your chest, a cold rush of fear gripping you. jaehyun’s gaze followed yours, and for a moment, his eyes widened with understanding, but it was already too late. without thinking, you stepped in front of him, your back facing the officer. the metallic clink of the gun being aimed, the sharp inhale of breath—it all happened in a blur.

time seemed to stretch as you felt a searing pain erupt in your chest, the bullet tearing through your body with a sickening impact. the pain was intense but fleeting, a sharp, fiery stab that left you gasping for breath. the world around you dimmed, a curtain of darkness falling over your vision as you staggered forward. jaehyun’s face contorted in horror and disbelief as he saw you fall, his body moving with a frantic, desperate energy. “no,” he managed to speak, but the sound was swallowed by the cacophony of the moment.

before you could fully collapse to the floor, the officer's gun fired again, the bullet striking jaehyun. he crumpled to the ground beside you, the force of the impact causing him to drop like a ragdoll. the room seemed to close in on itself, the world narrowing to the pain and the two of you lying together on the cold, unforgiving floor.

the silence that followed was filled with the weight of unspoken words and unfulfilled promises. your breaths came in shallow, ragged gasps, each one more difficult than the last. jaehyun's eyes, once so full of anger and torment, were now filled with an aching sorrow as he stared at you. his tears began to fall, mingling with the blood that stained the floor around you.

with trembling hands, you reached out to him, your fingers brushing against his cheek. his face was a mixture of agony and tenderness as he leaned into your touch, placing his cheek against your hand. the world around you continued to blur and fade, the edges of reality dissolving into darkness.

“i love you,” you managed to whisper, the words escaping your lips with a fragile strength.

jaehyun’s tears fell freely now, his entire being shuddering with the depth of his emotion. “i love you too,” he croaked, his voice cracking with the weight of the confession.

in those final, fleeting moments, the world seemed to dissolve into a haze of shadows and fading light. the pain, the fear, the anguish—all of it began to slip away, replaced by a deep, comforting warmth as you clung to the last remnants of consciousness. jaehyun's presence beside you was a bittersweet comfort, a connection that transcended the immediate horrors of the situation.

as your vision dimmed and the darkness began to consume you, you felt a final, overwhelming sense of peace. the last thing you saw was jaehyun’s tear-streaked face, and the last thing you heard was his whispered confession of love, a promise that would linger even as the world faded away.

✧.*

a/n: goodbye this made me so sad

horror shorts, rich guy poor girl, police, rich guy rich girl, college, high school, underground boxing, street racing, mafia, korean dynasty, post apocalyptic, mental institution, fatal illness, sociopath jaehyun, dancers fucking, assassins fucking, fucking a demon, fucking a ghost, treasure hunting, step-siblings, poor guy poor girl, red flag jungkook, ceo and secretary, murderers fucking, doctors fucking, teacher and student....i've done it all. like what do i write anymore i'm so???

sobbing because i'll be 26 when seventeen's ot13 comeback comes out

crazy how even google knows