seventeenth!
s*ckerpunch!
“I’m not slighting you, Sana,” he adds. “I just think it’ll be funny to watch how far her desperation will take her.”
The tension in the air breaks and the crowd erupts into laughter. I am so angry that I can practically feel steam coming off my body.
“You sick ,” I hiss. “You think this is funny? I’m not some kind of little toy that you can watch for your amusement. You disgusting piece of -,”
But my angry tirade is drowned out by the sound of onlookers placing bets on me and Sana. The man is sneering at me, as I fume, wishing I could march onto that stupid stage and punch him straight in the face-
“Just ignore them,” someone says behind me. I turn. Sana is calmly watching me, an oddly tranquil look on her face. Somehow, she remains serene and graceful amongst all the chaos we are in right now.
“They’re looking for your reaction,” she continues. “So don’t give them one.”
I blink. “Uh. Thanks. You’re right, I guess.”
Why is she being so nice?
As if reading my thoughts, Sana shakes her head.
“Don’t think I’m going to go easy on you. I just prefer fair fights- fights where my opponent isn’t battling psychological pressure that I’m not. I want to beat you on even footing.”
“Huh. I see.” I draw my knives in front of me and crouch down in a ready position. “Thanks for the gesture, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary.”
Sana’s lips curl up into a wry smile as she cracks her metal-studded knuckles. “Very well then.”
“Alright!” J-Hope roars. “Sana, Lia, get ready- and... fight!”
The crowd erupts into screams, cheers, and boos as Sana immediately lunges at me, drawing her fist back into a powerful punch before I can even react. I barely have enough time to leap out of the way before her brass knuckles come crashing down on the spot I was in only a few moments ago. One of the spikes on her hands catches the side of my face, however- I hiss in pain as she gashes my right temple, but hastily whip my knife around so that I slash the bare skin under her crop top.
The audience is growing wilder and wilder- a commentator booms, “This is shaping up to be a good fight!- I can see cash changing hands out of the corner of my eye-
Sana and I back away from each other, warily circling around the ring. In a flash, I leap at her again and whip my knife in a smooth silver arc, nicking her arm. She hisses at me and hooks her fist around; but as I twist out of the way I realize, too late, that I have left my center right open- I belatedly try to block my core using my forearms but-
Wham!
Stars erupt in my vision. I reel backwards, clutching my stomach. Sora screams, “Lia!”
I cough- is that blood?
!
Sana does not hesitate- she brings her fist down once more, and I narrowly manage to roll away.
Pull yourself together, Lia!
The roars of the crowd echo in my ears, ricochet all around my head. I hear the announcer yell, “Sana’s taking the out of her!” Sora is screaming my name- I somersault away as Sana comes at me once more. She rams her foot in my stomach and my body shakes violently and waves of agony roll through my body. My arms weakly rise as I attempt to defend myself from Sana’s punches. I use my forearm to block her foot, but she literally steps on me and a crack! rings through the air.
The pain in my chest intensifies exponentially; that must have been a rib. Images are flashing through my mind; the derisive smirk of the man with the white chrysanthemum; the vindictive snarls of the new gang members; the dark masks of the BTS members, the lack of color enveloping my mind, forming luminescent shapes; and all I can think is that I have never been in so much pain before, never, ever-
“Stop it!” I shriek, curling up into a ball. “That hurts!”
“Then stop me,” Yongguk growls. “You’re a pathetic little rodent who can’t even defend herself.”
Indignant feelings of shame and betrayal flood my body as I attempt to block Yongguk’s blows. Why is he being so mean? It is the first time we have sparred, and he took me to a crowded training ground located off a back alleyway in Daegu, full of weathered gang members and trained fighters... all of whom are probably scoffing at my utter lack of skill right now. The pressure of their judgemental gazes on me is not doing anything to bolster my fighting abilities.
“If you’re mad, then beat me!” Yongguk barks. He hoists me on his back and literally flips me over his body, slams me onto the ground and completely knocks my breath out. I rub my head, wincing, as a few titters echo around me.
“You’re such an , Yongguk!”
“Where’s that fighting power I heard about from Dal Shabet? Where’s the girl who wiped out six hitmen at once? She could beat me.”
“I told you,” I wheeze, clutching my stomach as Yongguk slams his fingers into my solar plexus. “I- don’t- know- what happened-,”
“That girl knew how to fight,” Yongguk says. “All I see in front of me is a little baby who couldn’t even save her parents from getting shot.”
Something inside me snaps. My vision fills with red, and the next thing I know I have launched myself at Yongguk, my lips curled in a snarl, both my hands raised. He moves to kick me and I sidestep his blow, slamming my fist into his gut instead. Although it doesn’t make an enormous impact- I am a 14-year-old girl, and Yongguk is, well, Yongguk- it still knocks the wind out of him. I take advantage of his brief moment of hesitance and hook my foot around his ankle, using the combined force of my leg and my body weight to knock him down to the ground.
“Now that’s what I’m talking about!” Yongguk exclaims, his mouth split into a wide grin. “I had to rile you up a bit, but see what you can do?”
“You’re such a jerk, Yongguk!” I huff, but adrenaline is pumping through my veins and I kind of feel really good.
“Look, Lia. You definitely have fighting potential. Your problem is accessing it. Remember this: no matter who your opponent is, how many people are watching, what you’re trying to do- at the end of the day, it’s always just going to be you and your fists. Narrow it down to those two things. And fight.”
And fight.
Sana’s fist comes flying through the air, straight to my lowered head.
It is only moments away from my face before my hand shoots up and grabs her fist.
A slight breath of surprise escapes Sana’s lips. The crowd’s obnoxious hooting ceases.
The sharp spikes of Sana’s brass knuckles puncture my skin. Blood trickles down my arm.
And from that point on, I feel nothing. I hear nothing. I see nothing else.
Except for me, my knives, and the stunned girl standing in front of me.
Fight, Yongguk whispers in my mind.
So I do.
In a flash, I have pounced on Sana, my knives ripping across her skin like ski blades on snow. Blood splatters on my face as she gasps loudly. She brings her fists down, her knuckles mere inches away from my scalp, but I drop to the ground and roll away. Adrenaline pumps through my veins as I both of my knives into each of her thighs.
My brain vaguely registers the bloodcurling shriek Sana lets out. She collapses to her knees, her hands scrabbling at my blades. The tips of her brass knuckles unintentionally nick my skin as she clutches her legs in agony. Without even a moment of hesitation, I draw back my fist and slam it straight into her face.
She is knocked clean out before her head even hits the ground.
There is utter silence.
I stand.
Sora is staring at me with wet, wide eyes. The members of the audience are gaping at me. I see expressions of anger and shock and everything in between; raised bludgeons, clenched fists, sharpened knives. A movement of dissent is beginning to sweep through the crowd. They do not like that an outsider defeated one of their own. They do not like what I have done. Someone spits at my feet. Taunts and jeers fill the air, the pure malice in them almost palpable. And among this all sits the masked man, lounging in his chair, giving me a smirk of utter satisfaction.
“I won,” I call out in a hard voice. “Let us go.”
The man does not respond. Instead, he brings his hands together in a slow, deliberate clap.
“I’m impressed, Lia,” he says. “But not surprised at all. I was expecting this.”
I raise my knives into the air, levering them straight at the man.
“Let. Us. Go.”
He smiles.
“You can leave,” he says casually. “I’m not stopping you.”
I narrow my eyes. Why would he let me go so easily?
“Here’s the thing.” The man leans back. “I’m not stopping them, either.”
I turn. The man’s eyes are on the crowd. Bloodlust is in their eyes.
My insides turn to ice.
“That’s not fair,” I say. “You said-,”
“I didn’t say anything- only that you got Sora.”
“Bastard.”
“L-Lia,” Sora murmurs in a terrified voice.
I tense, warily pivoting on my foot to face the hundreds of gang members eagerly eyeing me in anticipation.
“Okay, then.” I raise my knives at the ready. “Looks like I have-,”
And then all of a sudden an explosion rocks the fields and every single fluorescent bulb illuminating the area goes dark and I am into chaos.
I am about to take advantage of the crowd’s confusion and sprint towards Sora- before I feel a hand latch around my arm. I whirl around, knife raised, ready to strike whoever is holding me-
“Lia!” Zelo’s voice hisses through the darkness. “It’s me!”
My jaw drops. “What?”
“Well, Himchan and I figured it would be a lot smarter to stay back and try and formulate a plan on how we’d save Mina- well, I guess her name’s Sora- instead of just jumping in the middle of this all.”
I redden. “Ah. Smart.”
“Now let’s go. Himchan has Sora.”
And Zelo and I push through the chaos, jostle past the screaming mass of gang members. Someone arches a flamethrower through the air and it lands in the grass- the crowd parts in fear as the ground erupts in flames. I rip off my wig and let my hair fly loose around my face, then yank my shirt down to my waist; under the cover of darkness, I look like just another girl now; just another girl running away from the flames blazing through the fields. My heart is pounding out of my chest. Fear that someone will grab my wrist, yank me around, shout “She’s here!”
But the further and further and I Zelo get through the catacomb of Taebaek alleyways, the more my terror dies away. And then when I see Himchan and Sora next to a bright green dumpster, relief utterly floods my senses.
“Sora,” I murmur. She is sitting on the cold, wet cement. Himchan’s jacket is draped over her shoulders.
Her fists are clenched. Her eyes are hollow.
My stomach drops.
“Oh, Sora,” I whisper, wrapping my arms around her. “Oh my god, I should’ve never let you go there by yourself. I should’ve come with you- oh, no...,”
Sora continues staring blankly ahead.
“Did anyone follow you?” Himchan asks me and Zelo in a clipped voice. We shake our heads.
“How did they find Sora so quickly?” I ask. “How would they have even known that she’s working with us?”
“What exactly happened, Sora?” Himchan questions.
Sora is silent.
I exchange a worried glance with Zelo.
“Sora,” I murmur, but then Sora speaks, her voice bitter.
“They’ve known we’ve been working together all along,” she utters. “They know everything.”
My blood runs cold. I shoot up, my eyes wide.
“What are you talking about?” I ask.
Sora flings something onto the ground. It bounces on the cement, rolls over.
A plain silver chain, with a platinum band embedded with tiny pearls hanging on the end. In the center of the ring is a massive diamond with the letters S and T engraved in cursive.
And then she reaches into the pocket of her jacket and pulls out an identical ring.
I slowly look up at Sora. Her features are angrily scrunched up in an attempt to hold back tears. “What does this mean?” I murmur.
“That’s me and Taehyung’s engagement ring,” she whispers. “When he captured me- I don’t know, I just had a feeling of... recognition. And then when the lights went out and Himchan pulled me up, my hair got stuck in his necklace and I just yanked it off- and they knew my real name- how didn’t I know?”
“Wait.” I stand up. My mind is reeling. “Wait a minute. Sora, you’re engaged to Taehyung-,”
“That’s not even all,” Sora hiccups. Her tears are streaming in full force down her face at this point. “I heard one of them call another Jin.”
My face goes white. “You wouldn’t suppose it was-,”
“V is Taehyung. And all of his friends are in BTS. We know BTS.”
I gape at Sora, at an utter loss for words.
“Hang on.” Zelo’s voice cuts through the silence. “What do you mean, you know BTS?”
I turn to Zelo. “I- I told you about my new life, right? I go to college, and Sora’s my roommate, and all that?”
“Yeah?”
“BTS... goes to our school. I’ve known them for two years. And Sora- Sora is childhood friends with them. Hell, she’s apparently engaged to Taehyung. I... this isn’t possible. Sora- wait- maybe this is some kind of mistake-,”
“Really?” She furiously brandishes the two engagement rings. “So maybe I put this ring on someone else’s finger when I was 14 ing years old. Maybe another person has a customized, 10 million won engagement ring just like this! The ‘S and T’ on this diamond stands for Sora and Taehyung. You know the real reason I wanted to get into the gang world, Hyo? Because you told me that someone had tried to kill Namjoon and Jimin, and I needed to know what was going on so I could protect them! But now- but now-,”
Sora’s voice cracks, and she breaks down into tears.
Dammit! Seeing Sora- bubbly, enthusiastic Sora- like this is heartwrenching. I can’t even imagine how she must feel right now. Her fiancee is a murderer, for crying out loud. Her childhood friends are notorious underground criminals.
All this effort to ensure that Sora and I were protected- that everything we did in the gang world would never reach our day lives- and it was all futile in the end. The only advantage we have is the fact that we know BTS’ real identities as well... but how would that even matter? Everyone fears BTS. No one would dare attack them.
But what if their real identities were already known? The whole reason I got into this entire gang mess again is because someone was plotting to kill Namjoon and Jimin.
No, that wouldn’t be possible, I tell myself. Then there would be no reason for them to keep their aliases.
I start thinking about all those people who’ve interacted with BTS- including me- who’ve had no idea that they are ruthless gang lords.
Like-
Joonmyeon.
Oh, no. Please, no.
“So we know BTS’ real identities? Isn’t this a great opportunity for us? We can take them out,” Zelo says.
“We can’t!” I shriek hysterically. Everyone turns to me in confusion.
No. No. The gang world is going to be closer to Joonmyeon than ever. I cannot let get hurt. I cannot allow him to find out about any of this or get involved in any way.
“We can’t do that,” I say, my voice trembling. “They’ve obviously known who Sora and I are for a while. They could’ve taken us out at any time. Right now, we’re both at a stalemate. If we try and hurt them, what if they hurt us? Or worse, someone that we care about? We can’t risk it.”
Sora seems to realize who I am thinking about. She bites her lip, worried.
“We wouldn’t want innocent people on campus caught up in this,” she says.
Then it hits me.
The masked man is obviously from BTS.
So what if I know who he is?
Oh my god.
I could have been talking to the masked man at any time. He could have been watching me as I sat in class, or worked out with Sora, or laughed around with Joonmyeon-
Chills run down my spine.
“The man sitting in center stage was the person who gave me his number and called me to the ball,” I say. “Do you guys know what exactly his identity is, Himchan?”
Zelo clenches his fists. “So that was the bastard?”
Himchan furrows his eyebrows. “No, but I’ll try and find out. Maybe it’s Rap Monster. He’s the head of BTS. I’m not positive.”
“Please do. He’s always 3 steps ahead of us, no matter what. The least I could do is find out what his name is.”
I have no clue how I’m supposed to deal with BTS at school. Sora seems to want to avoid them, and for lack of a better idea of what to do, I decide to do the same. Unfortunately, our unspoken plan dissolves mere hours later, as we see them picking up breakfast in the cafeteria. Sora stills next to me. She pivots back on one foot, ready to leave-
It’s too late, though. Hoseok spots us from across the room and whispers something to Taehyung. Within moments, all seven of them have made their way up to us, grim smiles on their faces. Jimin, however, is grinning at me like nothing has ever happened. I give him a cold look. Dammit, I can’t believe I’ve been acting so flustered around him all this time. I should’ve known that there’s no way a guy like him could’ve ever given a girl like me any attention without a reason.
Well, I suppose all good things must come to an end.
It’s time to get serious.
A/N: smh at AFF for censoring "" in erpunch what is this
and god okay as some of u know i was draking last night bc i found this fanfic that almost completely ripped off of TCAAH...... here are my stages of emotions:
1. complete anger that makes me rage and do irrational
2. PURE salt
3. drakey-ness where i drake abt it all
4. indifference
so ya i made my blog post hidden if the situation resolves itself cool but if it doesnt idc (or at least.. i say idc for now)
Also more importantly! As all of y'all are coming up with theories, please keep in mind that just because an idol has a deep voice/is tall IRL, doesn't mean that it's proof that it's the mysterious dude in my story. i don't know how tall idols are/how deep their voices are in some cases, so I don't use that as a 100% basis for writing character descriptions hehehe
ALSO s/o to UKissMe-18 ;))
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