[A/N: Hi, everyone! Thank you sosososo much for reading, voting, and subscribing! I love all of you. We've now officially reached the halfway-point with Min Yoongi's story, yaaaay! Yes, that means there will be five more chapters, I've decided each of these stories will be capped at ten (I could, however, be persuaded to write some bonus content, if you'd be into that). My goal is to get these next five chapters out before school starts again for me (roughly in sync with BTS' new comeback AAAH), so please send me good vibes :) This also means that it's time for you, dear audience, to think about whose story you'd like to see next.  Take the poll below and tell me whose route you want, and I'll take it into consideration ;) As always, I hope you're doing well, byeeee!]

Thirteen Years Ago

“That isn’t my name anymore.”

Those words slice through the midnight air. They aren’t loud, but they echo in Min Yoongi’s young ears with the impact of a foghorn. He clenches his fists so tightly that he can feel warm liquid trickling from his palms. But he doesn’t register any pain.

All he can do is stare through the slots of the linen closet’s door, his eyes fixed on the two shadows inching into sight on the wall. Their showdown is imminent.

Over their hushed conversation loops a continual chorus of his father’s panicked words moments before, “Hide, Yoongi. Don’t make a sound.”

Hide.

Don’t make a sound.

Hidedon’tmakeasound.

He wants to yell. He wants to call for help. But he is frozen and deathly silent.

His father’s silhouette, tall, imposing, a force of strict order and love shown through discipline in Yoongi’s life, stops. As he raises his arms in surrender, a single lamp’s meager light warps his figure into something weak and decrepit. Something alien. He lets out a weak chuckle. “What is it you call yourself now, then?”

“You know what?” The stranger drawls, taking a slow step forward. Yoongi’s father takes one back. “Since I feel bad for you, old man, I’ll tell you. Consider it a parting gift. My new name is G-Dragon.”

G-Dragon.

The name burrows under Yoongi’s skin. The only movement he makes is the involuntary trembling of his fists.

Yoongi’s father’s voice is warmer than he’s ever heard it. Full of sadness. He takes another step back. “A fierce name for one so young, don’t you think?”

“I’ll live up to it.” The other figure assures, taking yet another step in Yoongi’s direction.

Click.

Yoongi can barely make out his father’s back now. “Please don’t waste your life, Young-ah,” the older man pleads lowly.

“The only life I’m wasting is yours, ahjussi.”

Bang.

The world goes red.

The stranger disappears without a trace. Yoongi is suddenly by his father’s side, staring at the hole in his chest. At his glassy eyes. His hands are red, his pajamas, the carpet. And his father is getting colder, paler.

A scream of pure anguish rips from his throat.

He doesn’t stop screaming. Not when the police arrive, not when his very pregnant mother, shaking like a leaf, pulls him into a tight hug. He only goes silent when his vocal chords give out on him, and then he seems to shut down entirely. He becomes a husk as still and quiet as his father’s corpse.

Something dies in eleven-year-old Min Yoongi that night. A hatred is born that no amount of time will quell.

He never cries over his father again.

Present Day

Yoongi sits up at his desk, his blanket falling from his shoulders. He rubs his neck.

How long was I asleep?

He tries to check the time on his phone, only to realize that his eyes are blurry with tears. Shocked, he quickly wipes them away. It’s been awhile since he dreamed of that day so vividly.

His phone’s display says ‘5:30’. He sighs. He should probably eat, but he has no appetite.

Instead, he feels compelled to revisit the search. Park Chanyeol’s clue about the watches has to lead somewhere.

He makes his way toward Namjoon’s room, intending to ask his opinion, when a sing-song voice stops him in his tracks.

“Hyuuuung!” Hoseok crows. Yoongi’s shoulders jolt as a deceptively strong grip clamps down on them. “I notice you took the van out.”

“What would make you say that?” Yoongi deadpans.

“Well, my keys were six inches to the left of where I put them before I went to sleep,” Yoongi curses internally, his placement was a bit off, “so I got suspicious. I went to confirm and noticed the distinct smell of daddy issues, hotel heir, and a hint of that girl.”

“What are you, a bloodhound?” Yoongi grimaces, and Hoseok laughs merrily.

“Hyung, don’t worry! I’m not mad.” Hobi’s grip on the older boy’s shoulder tightens considerably.

“Really? ‘Cause that hurts.”

“Does it? I’m seriously not mad,” Hoseok giggles, digging his nails in harder.

“, Hobi!” Yoongi thrashes, but he’s unable to shake the younger boy’s grip.

“My bad, Hyung.” Hobi finally lets go, taking a step back from Yoongi’s withering glare. “You didn’t hurt my van. Just make sure this doesn’t happen again without my knowing, got it?”

“Point taken, ,” Yoongi grumbles. He starts to brush past his dongsaeng.

“Wait,” Hoseok’s tone grows serious. “There’s something else I need to tell you. And you’re not gonna like it.”

Though he just spent a long time sleeping, there’s an exhaustion glazing Hobi’s eyes that Yoongi picks up on right away. He furrows his brow and folds his arms. “What is it?”

“It’s about my last job, and your next one.”

“Another bounty?” Yoongi’s brows arch in surprise.

Hoseok nods. “I’m sure Joonie-hyung will give you specifics later. He’s coming up with a new plan at the moment.”

“’New plan’. So you failed?”

“Harsh,” Hoseok whines, scrunching up his nose. “Honestly, I almost got killed. We need a different approach with this one, he’s dangerous.” His hand absently wanders to a fresh scratch running from the side of his right ear down to his jawline.

“Must be a hell of a payout then,” Yoongi muses, rubbing his chin.

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “This job isn’t just about the money, it’s about pride. This guy used to be one of ours, and now he’s stealing from us. We’re pretty sure he has ties with Bigbang.”

Yoongi’s eyes narrow. “I’ll get him.”

“I’ll get him,” Hoseok says simultaneously, doing a dead-on impression of Yoongi’s serious voice and expression. Then he breaks into a beaming smile. “I called it! You’re easy to predict, Yoongi-hyung.”

“Won’t your face bleed if you smile so much, idiot?” Yoongi scoffs.

“Just wanted to lighten the mood,” Hobi hums. “It feels somehow comforting to know your priorities are still where they always have been.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Honestly?” Hobi chirps. “I guess I just thought that you’ve been a bit different since [Y/n] showed up, Hyung. More open with your emotions.” Yoongi makes a complicated face in response to Hoseok’s words, but quickly schools his expression into a stony one.

“Don’t be stupid,” he mutters blandly.

Hobi sighs, a bit sad. “So Suga-hyung is still Suga-hyung after all.”

Yoongi really leaves this time, trying to absorb all the information he just became privy to. There’s a dangerous traitor on the loose, there’s a confrontation right around the corner. And Hobi thinks he’s prioritizing you.

You suddenly pop into Yoongi’s mind, as you’ve been doing a lot lately. He thinks of your dazzling smile, your pouty faces when he teases you, your warm lips briefly brushing his head as you tucked him in. When that gorilla threatened to take you to BIgbang, to your brother, Yoongi hadn’t even considered letting it happen. You would have been good bait, but never once had he considered that. Maybe Hobi is on the right track. That scares him.

He has to remember his priorities. Above all else, what Yoongi seeks is vengeance. A person like him is not worthy of you. Worthy of the happiness he suspects you two could cultivate.

In his own eyes, Min Yoongi isn’t worthy of love.

~~

“Good morning!” Jimin chimes as you reach your usual table, “Congratulations!” He raises a bite of omelet up in the air in celebration.

You grin back and return his greeting, tapping a bite of your own breakfast against his in a toast. You both take a scrumptious bite. “Mmm, what are we celebrating?”

“Your successful mission, of course!” Jimin chirps. Jungook looks unimpressed, and J-Hope, who’s sitting beside him, flashes you a bright smile despite a long scratch on his cheek. You instantly feel a chill, wondering if he found out about the van thing.

You don’t wonder for long, though, because suddenly you’re being bear-hugged by a sleepy Taehyung. You’re startled at first because the two of you haven’t been seeing much of each other since your argument—you wanted to talk to him before your first mission, but it didn’t work out. Now, he clings to you so tightly, even ignoring your plate of food, that it hits you how worried he must’ve been. You rub his back with your free hand. “I’m sorry about everything, Tae,” you whisper an apology. “I want us to be friends again.”

“Me too. I’m just glad you’re safe,” he answers. “Please don’t do anything that dangerous again.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I’ll try my best!” You quip lightly, choosing to ignore his slightly peeved expression and step away from him to take a seat. The other three are in awe at your previous interaction, and J-Hope lets out a low whistle.

“Are you two together?” Jungkook blurts, his large eyes even bigger than usual.

“No,” you smile. “We’ve just been friends for a long time.”

“Friends, huh?” J-Hope glances incredulously from you to Taehyung and back again.

“I wonder if Yoongi-hyung knows,” Jimin whisper-yells into Jungkook’s ear, earning an eye-roll from the maknae.

“If I know what?”

All five of you flinch as Yoongi appears, seemingly out of thin air. You find your eyes locking with his and your cheeks instantly turn pink, so you cover them with your hands and intently study your breakfast.

“Morning, Hyung!” Jimin sings, followed closely by everyone else’s greetings, which carry varying levels of enthusiasm.

“Morning,” Yoongi replies shortly. You flinch. He sounds upset.

“To answer your question, it’s a secret.” Jimin grins devilishly.

You look up at him again, poised to ask what’s wrong, but this time it’s him who averts his eyes. “Whatever. I’m going.”

“Yoongi?” J-Hope frowns, but the boy just gives him a curt wave and continues on his way.

“That was weird,” Jungkook tilts his head in the direction of Yoongi’s retreating form. Then he immediately turns to you. “What’d you do?”

“Me?” You counter, suddenly defensive. “I didn’t do anything.” But you did kiss him last night. Is that what this is about? No, he was definitely asleep. Right? You swirl your food around with your chopsticks, troubled.

“You don’t sound too sure about that,” Jungkook states. “You can’t even eat because of the guilt, can you, Piggy?”

“Hey, lay off her, Kookie,” Taehyung reaches over and roughly tousles his hair. “Or I’ll have to tell these guys how I walked in on you wearing Namjoon-hyung’s glasses and sitting in his chair the other day. Wait, I mean—oops.”

“Wait, WHAT?” Jimin’s voice goes up an entire octave, and J-Hope bursts into a fit of laughter.

Jungkook goes a deep shade of red. He approaches Taehyung menacingly, speaking through clenched teeth. “I thought we had an agreement. Never. Speak. Of. It.”

All at once, Jungkook lunges for Taehyung, who rolls out of the way of the barreling Kookie Express just in time. He giggles uncontrollably as a chase commences, weaving through tables and mildly amused gang memebers. As they tear off out of sight, you can faintly hear pots and pans crashing, and Jin scolding them frantically.

You watch all of this unfold with a half-smile, but you can’t get Suga’s pained expression out of your head. You polish off your food quickly. “I’m going to the range.”

~~

Yoongi doesn’t show up for your usual lesson.

You wait at the shooting range for longer than the allotted time, getting some practice in, but he’s nowhere to be found. You figure he probably has another job, try to convince yourself that it’s not a big deal, but your feelings sink when you catch him entering the range from the corner of your eye as you leave.

Is he avoiding you?

You decide to wait it out a bit, to catch him when he leaves. It doesn’t take as long as you’d thought, and you perk up when he starts walking toward you, but when he notices your presence, he immediately stiffens.

“Min Yoongi!” You call, waving him over. “What audacity. You skip our lesson and just decide to go solo? Not cool, Seonsaeng-nim.”

You wait for his sassy comeback, but he keeps his mouth shut and continues walking. Your smile dies on your lips. “Hey… are you okay?” You ask, gazing at him searchingly.

He stops. For a split second, there’s a look of intense pain on his face. Then, he’s a blank slate.

“Sorry, [Y/n]. I don’t have time for babysitting.” He says, dismissive.

“That’s rich,” you counter, reaching out and grabbing his arm gently. You don’t want him to go just yet. “What are your big plans, then? Do they not include lunch?”

“None of your damn business,” Yoongi snaps, flinching away from your touch and walking briskly away.

You watch him leave with a heavy heart and burning eyelids.

~~

“[Y/n], hello?”

You blink, snapping out of your stupor to glance up at Jin. He’s holding a box of bandages, his face etched with concern. “Sorry,” you chuckle lamely, “what’s up?”

“You’re pale. And you’ve been out of it for the last two days. Are you feeling alright?”

“Is that how it looks?” You stand on your tiptoes and slide an industrial-sized box of latex gloves onto the top shelf of the medical closet. “I’m okay, thanks for worrying about me, Doc.”

“Hey,” Jin places a firm hand on your shoulder. “How about free check-up?”

“Doc, I told you—“

“Just humor me, okay?” Jin guides you to the patient’s table, gesturing for you to sit. You oblige with a tiny sigh, and Jin snorts. “Do you have to be so difficult all the time? Between you and Yoongi I’m getting an ulcer for sure.”

Your shoulders slump at the mention of Suga. “Sorry.”

“Don’t feel bad.” He sticks a thermometer under your tongue, “Okay, keep your mouth closed and your eyes open for me.” He shines a light into your eyes one at a time. “Hmm, seems like you’re having some strain. Eye recommend more rest.” He points to his eye with a goofy grin and you can’t help but reciprocate.

“Hey, watch that thermometer,” he scolds lightly, taking it out of your mouth and checking it carefully. “You’re temperature is a bit high. Of course, it could just be because you’re close to someone this hot.” He strikes a princely pose, earning your first genuine laugh in what feels like an eternity.

“Okay, now breathe in.” He places the stethoscope against your chest, you take a deep breath. “Out,” he instructs. You slowly breathe out.

“Hmm, breathing is a bit shallow, and your heart… In my very sound medical opinion,” he pauses dramatically, giving you a meaningful look, “it might be broken.”

You choke at his absurd statement, breaking into a fit of coughing. “Excuse me?”

“My diagnosis is that you’re having some guy trouble,” he says matter-of-factly, removing the stethoscope from his ears and taking a seat on his stool.

“Guy touble? Doc, that’s…” you mean to say ‘ridiculous’, but his sincere gaze causes the word to stick in your throat. Irritation gnaws at your insides.

It’s true. You hate the way things ended off between you and Yoongi, and you’re determined to figure out what’s gotten him so upset. For the last two days, you’ve made an effort to bump into him as much as possible. You’ve attempted to start light conversations or make plans of any kind, but each time you tried to speak with him, he shut you down with as few words as possible.

Naturally, you find yourself explaining this to Jin, who listens intently.

“It’s almost as if we’re strangers again,” you confess, hands fidgeting. “only worse, because at least when we first met, he was still willing to throw an insult or a wisecrack my way. Now, he’s treating me like… like I’m invisible.”

You’re trying not to let it get to you, but each rejection is a knife in your side. The more he distances himself from you, the more you realize how much you depend on him, how much you enjoy his presence in your life.

Jin thinks all of this over, pensive. “You know,” he begins. “I’ve known Yoongi for a long time. He’s always had trouble expressing himself. He’s been single-mindedly working toward the same goal for almost thirteen years, and he has such a vivid idea of how he wants to accomplish it.”

“You mean about G-Dragon?” you whisper, your curiosity getting the better of you.

“How much do you know?” Jin asks cautiously.

“Not much. Just that he lost his father to Bigbang and he’s looking for revenge.”

“So he hasn’t told you the rest, then,” Jin hums. “He’s so reserved. It’s not my place to tell you everything, I think you should ask him about it yourself. But in your current situation, there are some things you need to know.”

“Like what?” you prompt.

“When Yoongi’s father died, he was only eleven.” Jin rubs the bridge of his nose, leaning forward in his seat.

“His dad’s fortune ended up in the hands of the government, not with his family. His mother and new baby sister ended up emigrating to China, hoping for a new start. Yoongi didn’t go with them—hasn’t spoken to them in ten years.” You let this sink in. Jin continues, solemn, “So, then, [Y/n], why do you think Yoongi is so preoccupied with money?”

You gape back at Jin, speechless.

“As soon as he started nailing bounties, Yoongi started sending anonymous checks to his family overseas. He’s been with Bangtan since the age of fifteen. When we first met, he was a reclusive, wispy little kid. He told me he wanted to become stronger, to become wealthy and take care of the family he has left. And, above all, to make GD pay.”

“I, I see…” Your stomach coils, your eyes mist over. “Then, I’m getting in his way, right? Taking care of me is keeping him from avenging his dad a-and… helping his mom.” Tears spill from your eyes, and your fists clench the hem of your sweater.

Jin hands you a tissue. “No, you’re wrong. As noble as Yoongi is regarding his family, this isn’t a healthy course of action. He’s spent all these years full of hatred for the world, trusting very few. And what can come after? Even if he kills G-Dragon, what does that solve?”

You bury your head in your hands. “It’s just not fair,” you whimper. “He was just a kid.”

“Mhm,” JIn rubs your back soothingly. “He never thinks about his own happiness. He shuts himself off from his biological family, his family at Bangtan—now, he’s trying to do the same to you.”

“Then, what am I supposed to do?” You stare pleadingly up at the doctor, eyes still wet with tears. “I… think I’m falling in love with him.”

Jin’s eyebrows almost fly off his face. He stares at you a moment, then holds a tissue to your nose. “Blow.”

You honk loudly, wiping your eyes and trying to regain your composure.

“I don’t have all the answers,” he starts, speaking slowly, “but you know what? You’re an amazing person, [Y/n]. I can tell Yoongi cares about you, no matter how stubborn he may be. Just keep being yourself, and keep supporting him. That’s all you can do right now. In the meantime, I’ll give you something for that fever.”

You nod gratefully. “Thanks, Doc.”

“Anytime. Lollipop?”

~~

Yoongi bows his head. His hands still, hovering just above the keys.

He’s a bit out of breath, having been lost in Debussey’s “Clair de Lune”, his father’s favorite piece.

It’s late. Exhaustion weighs down his eyelids. But he’s used to it—by now, it has sunken into his bones.

He’s playing in hopes of easing his frustration, but there’s no use. Pushing you away only makes him think of you more. He hates himself for that pained look on your face every time he bluntly ignores you, or shoots down your attempts at reconciliation. He’s been poring over his computer, pacing restlessly for 48 hours, but he can’t seem to get anything done.

Absently, his hands begin picking out the melody to “The River Flows In You”.

Am I doing the right thing?

Before he knows it, the song is over. Surrendering himself to thoughts of you is easy. Too easy.

He abruptly shuts the piano’s lid, rushes into the hall and nearly trips over something in the process.

“Nnnn.” Groans a voice from below. Yoongi immediately freezes.

He crouches down to get a better look in the darkness, and there you are, snoring softly and curled up into a little ball against the wall outside the piano room. It seems as though his kick didn’t wake you up.

Yoongi’s brow crinkles. What is she doing out here?

He reaches to shake you awake, then hesitates. Instead, he goes for a strand of hair laying over your open mouth, brushing it aside. “What a sloppy brat,” he mumbles.

You nuzzle your cheek into his touch, moving toward the warmth, and he notices immediately that your forehead is hot.

“Jesus,” he sighs.

He promptly scoops you up, takes you back to your room and sets you in bed, catching sight of the medicine Jin gave you earlier. “At least remember to take it,” he gripes, filling a glass with water. “You’re gonna make everyone worry.”

Yoongi gently eases you into a sitting position. Your eyes flutter, half-open. “Yoon…gi?” you murmur, voice thick.

A surge of heat rushes to Yoongi’s cheeks, and his heart picks up speed. He tries really hard not to focus on your heavily-lidded eyes, your rosy cheeks, your bare shoulder falling out of your sweater, the feel of your breath hitting his face. “Open up,” he says curtly, averting his eyes. You open your mouth obediently, and he gives you the pill. “Drink.”

You gulp down the water with fervor, handing him the cup. “Thank you,” you mutter dreamily, eyes closing again as you wrap your arms and legs around him, cuddling like he’s a body pillow. Your sudden attack causes both of you to flop back onto the bed. Yoongi stiffens, stomach flipping, overwhelmed by your enticing scent and your warmth. Gingerly, he tries to move himself away from you, but you’re snoring again before long.

“,” he growls, exasperated. “Stop being so damn cute, I’ll die.”

In response, you make incoherent gurgling noises in your sleep.

I’ll just wait for her to move on her own, he decides, yawning hugely. No use making a scene.

Unsurprisingly, he passes out within minutes, tangled up in you.

~~

Yoongi’s eyes open the next morning to an unfamiliar wall.

He yawns, marveling at his deep, dreamless night’s sleep. His gaze rolls lazily to the left.

And there you are. Dead to the world. You’ve turned away from him in your sleep, but he, in turn, somehow ended up draping his arm over you and pulling you closer so that his chin is tucked against the crown of your head. You fit together perfectly.

.

His mind races. What if she wakes up? How should I explain this? He lifts his arm carefully off of you, lightly checking your forehead. Your fever has broken. He sighs in relief.

Eventually, he manages to inch away from you and to tuck you in bed. “Good night,” he whispers, locking your door from the inside before shutting it.

“Hyung, is this your ?” At the sound of a low voice, Yoongi stifles a loud curse. “Creeping on young women?”

“V,” he breathes, his eyes falling to the younger boy’s form. “You scared me.”

“And you’re scaring me. Why are you leaving [Y/n]’s room? I thought you were giving her the cold shoulder?” Taehyung leans against the wall with annoyance sparking in his eyes.

“You her keeper or something?” Yoongi deadpans.

“No, just someone who cares. Unlike you, Hyung.” Taehyung smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “You know, she’s been making herself miserable for the last few days fixating on you. And you’ve just been prancing off to who-knows-where. Is she only worth seeing when it’s convenient for you?”

“Don’t pretend like you know me,” Yoongi hisses.

“I don’t know you, Hyung. And neither does [Y/n], really. I think it should stay that way.”

“That’s not your decision to make,” The words fly from Yoongi’s mouth before he can think about them.

“I know. I just don’t want my dear friend to get hurt,” Taehyung’s gaze becomes pleading, “but this isn’t about me.”

Yoongi scoffs. “Why do you think I stayed away from her?”

“Because you were afraid your ambitions and your feelings wouldn’t mix.” Taehyung answers flatly. “But is that really a problem? Whether or not she is hurt by your presence, that’s not my decision to make. And it’s not yours either, Hyung. Pushing her away isn’t the answer.”

Yoongi falls silent.

Taehyung lets out a breath. “Anyway, I didn’t come here to argue with you. I came because Namjoon-hyung finally came up with a plan to catch the traitor.”

Yoongi crosses his arms. “He did?"

Taehyung nods. “And I need you to talk him out of it.”