"Good morning!" Jin's cheerful voice greets you as you enter the complex's dining area the next morning, feeling like you've slept for a hundred years.

"Morning," you speak hesitantly. "I was told breakfast is out around this time?"

"You were told right," Jin smiles. He's still wearing a light pink apron and holding a spatula, and a grin tugs at the corners of your lips. This man is too cute for words, the textbook mom friend. "Take as much food as you can eat, you should keep up your strength if you're going out with Yoongi."

Going out? A pang shoots through your chest, and you bite your lip self-consciously. Your thoughts fly to the early-morning piano session, the warmth of Suga's body against yours, and your confusion upon waking up in your own bed. Did he carry you there? The thought makes you burn with embarrassment.

Jin notices your reaction and frantically waves his hands. "Aish, no, I meant going out on missions, I'm sorry, that was a weird way to phrase it."

"No, it's fine," you laugh awkwardly. "I got it." You internally berate yourself. What am I, an elementary student? "Speaking of Suga, where is he?" Your eyes search the crowded hall for him, but you can't spot that trademark blond head of his.

"He's probably asleep. He claims he gets better inspiration at night, which means he's basically nocturnal. The only time I see him up and about is if he gets a mission." Jin rubs his chin thoughtfully.

"When will that be?" You ask, worried about staying here longer than you absolutely have to.

"Depends. Sometimes Namjoon has jobs for him, and sometimes he works for outside clients. He tries to work as much as possible, though."

"And will I even be able to help?" You question.

"A girl with your grit, I have a feeling you will." Jin claps you on the back encouragingly. "Don't fret about that now. Just get some food, alright?"

You nod gratefully, then load up your plate. I guess gangsters do it buffet-style, you note. You spot Jimin, J-Hope, and Jungkook sitting at a table with some empty seats, and seeing as you know no one else there, you plop down next to Jimin.

"Good morning, [F/n]!" To your relief, Jimin greets you happily.

"Did you sleep well?" J-Hope asks, his wide sunshine smile and a gleam in his eyes suggesting that he may or may not know the manner in which you returned to your room.

"I did," you answer with a forced smile of your own.

Jimin, blissfully unaware of the subtext, gestures at your food. "Hurry and eat! Jin-hyung makes the best food ever. DIdn't know joining up with Bangtan would be so good for my diet." He gives you a wink, and you take a bite. He's right, the flavor is at once calming and enticing. You realize that you haven't eaten since the sandwich in the coffee shop and unceremoniously devour your food.

"Are you crazy or something?" You're so busy eating that Jungkook's biting remark comes out of nowhere. Your chopsticks freeze midair as you meet his eyes. "Why didn't Namjoon kill you?"

Jungkook's question sends a wave of nausea rolling in your stomach. As if he can tell exactly how you feel, Jungkook smirks, going on. "I guess that's not important. But why would you ever come back here? You know, your file said you were on your way to medical school before your old man ed everything up, but I doubt you'd have had enough functioning brain cells for—"

Whack! Jungkook groans and clutches the back of his head as a stunningly beautiful woman in a regal tuxedo with chin-length hair withdraws her hand, "That would be 'enough functioning brain cells, noona', you brainless muscle-pig." She drawls.

"Hwasa-nim. Good morning!" J-Hope pipes up excitedly.

"Hope you're doing well, seonbae-nim," Jimin adds.

"Don't be so formal, you know I hate that." Hwasa gives them an affectionate smile. "Now apologize to [F/n]."

Jungkook averts his eyes like a scolded puppy and a tinge of red colors his cheeks, "Sorry," he mumbles without looking at you.

"Good boy," the woman roughly tousles Jungkook's hair, earning a deeper blush and a dirty look from the maknae.

You feel like your vocal cords have failed you, but when glance around in confusion, Hoseok chuckles. "This is Hwasa, one of Bangtan's Four Horsemen. Hwasa, this is [F/n]."

"I know," Hwasa turns to you with a glimmer in her eye and does a quick bow. You reciprocate. "We have much to discuss. Are you done eating?" You nod hesitantly. "Good, then come with me."

As you follow Hwasa through the corridors, you can't help but stare. The woman wears a suit like it's a ball gown, and strides gracefully in silver stilettos high enough to make you dizzy. Her perfectly manicured silver nails tap the stack of files she carries, and her dangly earrings catch the light as she her head toward you. "You must be confused."

"Yes," you answer sheepishly.

"Well, feel free to ask me anything. Whether or not I answer will depend on the question, of course."

"How... do you know who I am?" you ask tentatively.

"How could I not? You're kind of a big deal around here right now. The rumor mill's in a -storm about how some debtor avoided death and left her high heels at Namjoon's feet."

You flush scarlet immediately. "It's nothing that impressive."

"If you say so," Hwasa chuckles.

You hastily change the subject. "J-Hope said you were one of the 'Four Horsemen', what does that mean?"

"Aish, Hoseok needs to pick a more intimidating name, especially in his line of work." Hwasa rolls her eyes. "It just means I'm someone it's not wise to mess with." A confident smirk graces her lips. "But that's not what you really wanted to ask, right?"

You nod. "Where... where are we going?"

"Somewhere important for your coming missions, provided you don't want to die."

The clicking of Hwasa's stilettos stops as you reach a heavy door. She enters a complex code into a keypad lock and there's a mechanical click as the door swings open. To your surprise, the room is a wide shooting range. Hwasa hands you a pair of noise-cancelling headphones and marches you to an empty station.

It's there that you see a noticeably sleepy Yoongi. His blond hair is fluffy and unkempt, there are dark bags under his eyes, and he clutches a tumbler of coffee as he stares dead-eyed into space. His own headphones are around his neck, and he's projecting none of his usual disdain. You feel a bizarre urge to cuddle him.

Hwasa is unfazed, and waves a manicured hand in front of his face a few times until he snaps back to reality. "Morning, Space Cadet."

Yoongi scoffs, takes a long sip of coffee, and with it, his malice seeps back into his body. "If it isn't my in' prince charming. Rescue any fair maidens on your way here?"

"Just one," Hwasa gestures grandly to you, and you instantly feel heat burning in your cheeks.

Yoongi gives a slight nod. "Good work, now get lost."

"Happy to oblige," Hwasa whacks you lightly on the forehead with her files and flashes you an encouraging smile. "If you ever need anything, come find me. Maybe we can go for a girl's night with some of my friends."

You break into a grin, "Thanks, Hwasa. I'd love that."

She gives a little wave, "Hwaiting!"

"Hwaiting!" You call after her as she departs, feeling rather silly at your inability to form words.

"How touching." Yoongi flicks the back of your head, and you flinch. "Don't go soft on me, brat, this isn't playtime." He finishes the rest of his coffee, his eyes now sharp as glass. "Have you ever handled a gun before?"

You shake your head slowly. "Before two days ago, I'd only seen them on TV."

"Then pay attention."

You dutifully watch as Yoongi explains the finer points of gun safety. "This goes without saying, but never point at anything you don't intend to kill," he says gravely. Something is stirring in his deep eyes, something that you couldn't hope to name. "And in the event that you do pull the trigger, be prepared for the consequences."

You say a quick little prayer and hope that you're never faced with the need to do such a thing. When he presses the cold steel into your hands, you're shocked at how heavy it is in relation to its size, and your arms turn to jelly as you raise it toward the target.

"Don't be nervous." Yoongi's low voice is close to your ear, and you can feel his breath as he stands behind you, correcting your form. Is he crazy? How am I supposed to focus when he's standing so close?  "I'm here, so nothing's going to happen. Square your shoulders." He gently fixes your posture and takes a step back.

"That's good. Now turn off the safety and fire." You steel yourself, taking a calming breath.

Bang, Bang, Bang!

You shoot in quick succession, bracing against the kick of the gun with each shot. When silence resumes, you finally breathe out again. You're nowhere near the center of the target, but you're closer than you thought you'd be. You grin, lower the gun and look back at him expectantly.

"Could be worse."

"Gee, thanks." Your spirits fall, and you feel the tension drain from your shoulders. "What did I do to deserve such high praise?"

"I'm not here to feed you ego." Yoongi deadpans. He an eyebrow at you. "You're more relaxed now that you know what it feels like, right? Stop standing around and try again."

He's right. You're a bit less anxious now. You put the headphones back on, take aim carefully, and empty the rest of the cartridge.

"Better than the first time," Is Yoongi's comment, and you spend the next few hours with him practicing. He gives you advice about your form, teaches you a bit about the different types of weapons Bangtan commonly uses (and illegally sells, but you try not to think about that part too hard).

When your session is over, your muscles are sore and you're beginning to regret not eating an extra plate of Jin's cooking. You stretch your arms and let out a yawn.

"You stretch like an ahjumma," You're surprised to see a hint of a smile on Yoongi's lips.

You try to think of an adequate comeback, but all that comes out is, "You are," and this causes Yoongi's baby grin to grow into a full, gummy smile.

"Holy , she's Billy in' Shakespeare!" He calls.

"Watch it or I shall kicketh your cocksure ."

"I'm so scared. Eth."

Both of you have a good laugh, and he musses up your hair a bit before asking if you want some lunch.

And, though you suspected before, it's now that the thought really crystalizes in your mind.

You might just have a crush on Min Yoongi.

~~

For the next week, you practice shooting with Yoongi in the morning, help Jin at the infirmary in the afternoon, and look for leads about your father in the evening.

You find yourself thinking about Suga constantly, noticing his small acts of kindness, and picking up on his unwillingness to get close. He'll go for food with you, and engage in sassy banter, but other than that, he's all business. The stirring look in his eyes sometimes resurfaces in moments of quiet, making you intensely curious about its origin. But you dare not ask him about it. Anyway, for large portions of the day, he just disappears. Probably on missions, you presume, but weren't you supposed to help him with those?

Even on nights when your sleep is dreamless, you find yourself slinking to the kitchen to 'get water', secretly hoping you'll hear him play the piano again. But so far, no such luck.

Ten days after you came to the Bangtan compound, in the midst of research in the wee hours of the morning, you hear a knock on your door.

You rub your eyes and turn the knob in a daze, only to be nearly suffocated by a pair of muscular arms.

"Hey—!" you protest, cut off when your face is squished against a broad chest and the bear hug impossibly tightens.

"[F/n]." Comes a deep voice that sounds vaguely familiar. 

"Tae, you're gonna break my ribcage," you manage.

"Sorry," Taehyung immediately loosens his grip and pulls away a bit. Seeing his face—older now, but with the vestiges of a boy you once knew—fills you such a potent cocktail of nostalgia and worry that a tear immediately rolls down your cheek.

"Ah! I-I'm sorry!" Tae's hands jump away from you like he's been burned, and his brow wrinkles cutely in just the way you remember. He never could handle you crying. "I wanted to talk to you sooner, but—"

"You moron," you sob, swiping the tears from your cheeks and trying to calm yourself down. Taehyung gently drags his thumb under your eyelashes and pulls you close again.

"I'm glad you're safe," he says into your hair.

You squeeze him back tightly and then step away, studying him. He's no longer the baby-faced boy that ate ice cream on his aunt's back porch with such fervor. The boy with the big imagination who was always wandering off into his own little world. For a time, you shared that headspace.

But now he's a grown man. His voice is deep, he looks rougher around the edges. You notice that he has a fading ghost of a bruise on his left eye.

"That's my line. What happened?" Your voice comes out strained.

"Just a fight."

"What on Earth happened to you?"

"You mean recently or, like, in general?"

You groan and fold your arms across your chest. "You think I want you to recount years of your life right this second?"

"I will if you want me to," Taehyung smiles softly. "But it would take awhile."

"It's fine. I'm just glad your punishment wasn't too severe."

"I'd say it was. A week of knowing you were close but not if you were okay was worse than any fight."

Taken aback, you blink. "Well, now you're just being dramatic."

Taehyung's face clouds over and he knocks his forehead against yours. His eyes are stone-cold. "I'm not. You should really leave."

His words sting, and you turn your back on him. "That's not really your business, is it? As I recall, you stopped talking to me."

"Because I was—"

You cut him off. "I don't have a choice anyway, Taehyung. I don't have any alternatives."

"I can get you out."

You whirl on him with a scowl. "Come on, you're smarter than that. We'd both be killed."

"Your father escaped."

"At the cost of my imprisonment," you hiss. "And I'm going to find him."

"He isn't worth it, [F/n]. Just let him rot in some gutter, he deserves as much. It's not like you'll be cheating anyone, this place is full of gangsters."

"You're one of them."

Your sentence hangs in the air. You see a flash of hurt in his eyes. But you're not sorry, he's not making any sense. After a moment of thick, awkward silence, you continue, your voice soft but firm. "I'm not a kid anymore, Tae. And I won't be a coward like my father. I'm choosing this because it's my responsibility. I have to resolve this."

"Wanting to live isn't cowardly." Taehyung looks at you, long and hard. A sad smile tugs at the corners of his lips. "I'm sorry I upset you. Just think about it, okay?"

You want to say more, so much more, but only watch in silence as he departs.

~~

"It's a bust."

A frustrated Yoongi slaps a wrinkled slip of paper on Namjoon's desk, raking a hand through his blond locks.

Namjoon, his hair tousled and clothed in simple sweats and a T-, looks up from his copy of Demian and glances languidly at the paper. Though they've been friends for years, Yoongi still finds it difficult to reconcile the man's God of Destruction persona with the bookish, casual Namjoon in front of him.

"Well, the intel was questionable," Namjoon concedes, pushing his glasses further onto the bridge of his nose.

"You didn't send me on a goose chase—" Yoongi growls.

"Why would I waste manpower like that? But, like I told you before, Bigbang's elites rarely visit the same restaurant twice." Namjoon quickly scans the two English words scrawled on the paper: Red Delicious. "Interesting," He muses.

"It's bull," Yoongi rubs his temples, pacing. "We just have to find a place where they're repeat patrons. A favorite of some kind. They've got enough money and entitlement to risk their asses for some unique thing. There has to be at least one in this goddamn city!"

"I'll look into this," Namjoon gestures with the paper. "In the meantime, get some sleep. You know how late it is?"

"I'll sleep when I'm dead." Yoongi mutters.

"So edgy, reign it in a little." Namjoon picks up his book, a wordless signal that it's time for Yoongi to go. The blond man gives a curt nod.

"Practice what you preach, Namjoon. Couldn't have our fearless leader keel over from exhaustion."

"Worrying about me, are we? You have bigger problems. I'll see you tomorrow."

Yoongi's eyes narrow. "A job?"

"Yes. And take that girl with you. You've been oddly protective until now."

"Understood." Yoongi's fingernails dig into his palms, but he bites back the retort on his lips and does a tiny bow.

As he closes the door, he bumps shoulders with Jin, sans labcoat, and eyes him suspiciously. "Hyung."

"Get some sleep, Yoongi." Jin flashes a perfect smile and knocks softly on Namjoon's door.

Not my business, Yoongi decides, and wearily makes his way toward his bedroom.

Red Delicious. Red Delicious.

The words swirl around his brain. What do they mean? Yoongi was by no means fluent in English, but he understood their surface-level meaning. But there has to be more to it. Is 'Red Delicious' a code name? Are those two words the key to his revenge? How do they connect with that bastard who orchestrated his father's dying breath?

Yoongi's train of thought is disrupted by a muffled yell.

That sounds like [F/n]'s voice.

He picks up the pace, puts a hand on the gun strapped to his side. He wonders if his aim will hold up with his recent sleep deprivation.

"You moron," It's definitely [F/n]'s voice. Yoongi comes to a halt outside her open door. Is she crying? Concerned, he takes a peek inside and discovers Taehyung, tenderly wiping tears from her face and then embracing her.

Yoongi immediately lurches out of sight, fearing he intruded on something private, but neither of them seem to notice his presence as they continue talking. It kinda pisses him off. He should just go back to his room, the door is mere feet away. But he can't bring himself to move.

What exactly is their relationship? They seem very close... Yoongi leans his back against the wall, sliding down to the floor. He shouldn't care about such things. He doesn't care. Absolutely not. This girl is just a liability, measly amount of gun training or no. Remember why you fight. Just go back to your room, dammit!

"That's not really your business, is it? As I recall, you stopped talking to me."

He's never heard her use that tone. Yoongi unconsciously holds his breath as their bickering grows more intense. Bail her out, what a idea. Don't let Namjoon hear talk like that... He thinks.

Finally, it goes quiet.

"...I won't be a coward like my father. I'm choosing this because it's my responsibility. I have to resolve this."

What a strange girl, so stubborn. The ghost of a smile graces Yoongi's lips. But she's got conviction, if nothing else. 

[F/n]'s door closes.

"Hyung?"

Yoongi looks up, his expression melting into a mask of indifference. "Taehyung."

"Why are you on the floor?"

"Fell asleep," he lies smoothly.

"That's a short nap, you weren't here before."

"Don't worry yourself." Yoongi gets up and dusts off his pants, rummaging in his pockets for his room key.

"I know she's supposed to help you," Taehyung's tone is suddenly deadly serious, and he forces Yoongi to look him in the eye. "If you let her die, I'll kill you myself." 

Yoongi makes a face, inserting the key into the lock. "Don't involve me in your lovers' spat, Tae."

Taehyung's face goes beet red, and at the sight, a surge of fire burns in the pit of Yoongi's stomach. Why does this infuriate me?

Maintaining his mask, Yoongi slips into his room and closes the door behind him without a word to the flustered boy outside the door. He flings his clothes and gear aside, exhausted, and flops onto his glorious nest of blankets.

He wonders if he'll get any sleep tonight.

~~

You show up at the range a little early today, still reeling from your conversation with Taehyung last night. Feeling comfortable enough with the setup, you grab your gun and empty a few cartridges into the wall. You drown your uncertainties in the rhythm of the bullets.

At least your aim has improved.

After awhile, you start to wonder where Yoongi is. He's usually punctual, if sleepy, but today, he's nowhere to be found.

A bit disappointed, you practice without him for the allotted time. Trying to keep yourself focused, you turn out a bit of an uneven performance overall, and decide to stop. Handling a gun while your head isn't on straight is a recipe for disaster.

When you push open the exit door, there's Yoongi, looking a little dazed.

"Thanks for your help today, Seonsaeng-nim," you mutter darkly, blowing past him.

"Wait." Yoongi puts a hand on your shoulder, and dammit if your heart doesn't skp a beat. "Come with me."

"Why? You know, I cannot be bribed into forgiveness. Probably."

"We have a mission."

[A/N: Hi, everyone! Whew! That one took awhile. I commend your patience. Thank you all for continuing to read my story, we're getting into some action in this next bit, so stay tuned! (Hint: it involves at least one SM idol, oooooooh) If you have any feedback, I love getting comments <3 I hope you're all having a wonderful summer, stay cool and hydrated.]