Chapter 8: Trapping

Sehun

            “Hold on,” I said slowly, a faint pain gnawing at my temples. “We’re going to do what?”

            Jaebum stopped mid-pace, his hands clasped behind his back. He was wearing black pants and a fitted white shirt, and a whistle was held in place between his teeth. “We’re going to do some basic cardio,” he said slowly, as if speaking to a child. “To see how far you can go, where you’re at – and then we’re going to push you past that.”

I frowned. I dimly remembered Jongin telling me about a performance he’d trained too hard for, and how he’d spent the next few weeks dealing with the physical repercussions. “Won’t that be bad for my physique, though? To cross my limits on the first day-”

Jaebum was suddenly far too close for comfort, the intensity in his eyes as heated as the wildfire that had consumed my town. “In fighting, there’s no such thing as limits. You think you can only do so much, but then someone you love is at risk and you’re suddenly capable of so much more – that happens a lot.” The fire died away and he stepped back, putting a safe distance between us again. “And besides,” he added, “you’re not exactly human, if you haven’t figured it out by now. Some rules don’t apply to you.”

I sighed, condemning myself to exhaustion and sore limbs. “Alright. So how is this going to work?”

“I’ll train you in basic cardio,” he said, resuming pacing the length of the dark alleyway. It was four in the morning, and the sky was a muffled black, hinting at an approaching sunrise. It was cold, too – it was the middle of November, and my hands were numbing from the brisk air. “Mark will train you parkour, Jackson will train you in fencing, Yugyeom will train you in hand-to-hand combat, Bambam will train you in shooting, Youngjae will train you in stealth and Jinyoung will teach you how to tend wounds. Sound good?”

“What about Haerin?” Although there was no going back and undoing the many things that had led to her getting involved, and although she was the one who had proposed the deal, I still felt responsible for getting her tangled in this whole mess.

“Same thing,” he said without missing a beat, as if he’d expected me to ask. “Except instead of shooting and fencing, she’ll do flexibility and general martial arts.” I shot him a confused look, and he shrugged. “Differences in male and female physique. Plus she’s in less danger, so we won’t push her as hard.”

I nodded wordlessly, and rolled up my sleeves. “Let’s begin, then. I don’t suppose you’ll go easy on me?”

Jaebum’s smile was genuine, yet terrifying. “No, I won’t.”

--

Haerin

            Mark laughed, a sound as crisp and quiet as snow. “Are you okay?”

            I groaned, slinging my arm over my eyes to block out the light. “If you define ‘okay’ as having all your muscles waging war on your sanity at once, then yes, I’m perfectly fine.”

            “It’s okay. I know how you feel. It was like that on my first day, too.” I could hear his shoes squeaking against the studio floor as he sat down next to me. I tilted my head towards him. He was at a comfortable distance, about two feet away, and the back of his shirt was completely dry and free of sweat. “If it makes you feel any better, Sehun’s probably getting it worse.”

            I winced at the thought of worse pain than what I was currently feeling throughout my entire body. “I just feel bad for the guy.”

            He laughed again, and just then the studio door burst open, allowing an amused-looking Jaebum to drag a very exhausted, very sweaty and very shirtless Sehun into the room. Upon the sight of Sehun’s bare torso, my face flamed red and I looked away, fixating on my reflection in the mirrored wall. Normally I wouldn’t be so petty as to get embarrassed by such a trivial thing as a semi-unclothed man, but Sehun-

            Sehun had a rather nice body, I had to admit. His skin was smooth, his muscles defined, lean and graceful like a professional dancer. Something my past self might have defined as an ideal body for a guy.

            But that was my past self. My current self was not affected by the sight of Sehun shirtless, and definitely not embarrassed.

            So why couldn’t I look at him?

            “Dude, put on a shirt,” Mark said, chuckling. “Haerin looks like she’s dying inside.”

            Sehun let out a low groan that dripped with exhaustion, and after a few minutes of shuffling, I turned back to find he’d thrown on a black shirt. “There.” He held his arms out, forty-five degrees from his sides. “Better?”

            “I don’t mind how clothed you are,” I stated blankly, and immediately wanted to smack myself in the forehead. That sounded unbelievably suggestive. Hopefully he wouldn’t-