Minji likes control.

It's the one thing in life she craves above all else - control over herself, her surroundings, control over everything she loves. She partially attributes it to her natural gift of leadership, but to a degree, she blames her irrevocable need to protect everyone she holds near and dear to her heart. Life is full of uncertainties, but she can eliminate every last one as long as she has enough control.

(Is that really so bad?)

Her friends are everything to her. But without control, they'll leave - they always leave - and Minji can't handle that. She can't handle being alone.

Alone. Yes, that's the key word, the most awful word in the English tongue. Murder doesn't hold a candle to it and hell is only a poor synonym. She doesn't want to be alone, and in order to keep her friends close, she needs to control them.

Bora and Siyeon, first and foremost, are the easiest to keep under her watch. The nostalgia of decade-long companionship grips the women with Minji's vice, and she never lets go. They'll never be free, not that she thinks they really want to be. Their history with eachother is too strong of a shackle for either woman to resist.

Handong and Yoohyeon are next; Minji doesn't deny that she worries about her ability to make them stay by her side. Her bond with Handong isn't quite as pronounced - she counts her lucky stars that their mutually understood respect will be enough to anchor the doll-faced woman. Yoohyeon, similarly, doesn't share an intense bond with her - but Bora does, and that fills her with some modicum of hope. If she plays her cards right, Minji can use that to her advantage. Bora would do anything for Minji, and ensnaring Yoohyeon in her trap would be laughably easy with Bora by her side.

Yubin, though…

Minji craves control, but Yubin eludes her influence at every turn. Minji has no power over Yubin, and she hates it. She isn't sure what makes the second-youngest so different from the others, but it makes Minji's skin crawl at her inability to know.

Although not necessarily a wrench in her plans, Yubin is a free spirit, and that worries her. To make matters worse, those…things listen to her. They follow her every beck and call, worshipping the very ground Yubin walks on. Her anger at Yubin's autonomy is almost outweighed by Minji's jealousy of the disciples' absolute obedience.

She doesn't trust Yubin - doesn't trust her cloaked thralls one bit. The power they hold is threatening, and she's seen its consequences with her own eyes. Anyone unfortunate enough to remove the shroud of black fabric enables the bodysnatcher beneath to steal their unsuspecting victim's likeness, and they leave behind nothing but a doll-like carapace. She fears the power Yubin has over those mindless puppets - she fears falling victim to Yubin's vassals.

Fear isn't so difficult to understand. After all, weren't we all frightened as children? Nothing has changed since Little Red Riding Hood faced the big bad wolf. What frightens us today is exactly the same sort of thing that frightened us yesterday. It's just a different wolf. This fright complex is rooted in every individual - but Minji wants to get rid of it, all the same. And she knows the only way to eradicate the fear is to find a way to control Yubin.

Yubin doesn't listen to her, but she listens to Yoohyeon. That connection is something Minji preys on almost immediately - she can't keep Yubin against her will, but at the very least, she can prevent the younger woman from straying too far. Yoohyeon wouldn't be able to handle that kind of separation, and Yubin knows it.

Minji has a sweet spot for Yubin, but she knows that true potential for an unbreakable bond lies dormant in their youngest, Gahyeon. Unequivocally, she is the glue that holds their group together, not Minji. Without Gahyeon, there is no commonality between the seven of them. It is for that exact reason that Minji pours every ounce of love and obsession into her. Minji wants Gahyeon all to herself, like her own little doll. She's willing to let go of Yubin, but she'll be damned if she lets Gahyeon leave too.

She loves it when Gahyeon smiles, not for anyone else besides Minji. Her innocence is more addicting than any narcotic she's ever dreamed of tasting, and Minji feeds off of it. She consumes, and consumes, until there's nothing left. Then she feeds some more - and Gahyeon lets her. Her glassy eyes and too plump lips beckon to Minji; they draw her in like a siren's lullaby. She isn't sure if it's Gahyeon's bright red lipstick, or the youngest's saccharine blood that lingers on Minji's skin. Gahyeon tastes like pomegranates and poppy seeds and everything intoxicatingly divine.

The pallid hue of her face makes Gahyeon ethereal, doll-like - like porcelain that she traces delicate fingers over, wary of her trophy's fragility. Minji misses hearing the cloyingly sweet voice fall from Gahyeon's lips, the same way she misses the youngest's touch, her laughter, her very essence - but she's since grown accustomed to the silence. It comforts her; no one can take her beloved companions away from Minji anymore. Gahyeon sits pretty in her throne of mahogany, and her five soldiers stand unmoving with equally peaceful expressions.

Minji smiles, and presses a chaste kiss to Gahyeon's stone-cold lips. The taste of pomegranates and poppy seeds infiltrate her senses, they addict her to Gahyeon all over again.

Minji plays with her friends.

Minji loves Gahyeon.

Minji likes control.