A/N: Long time no see. I'm going to try and revive this over the summer.

As soon as we get downstairs, someone jumps on my back from behind. Instinctively, I tense and fold over, using his momentum to throw him, registering his slight weight and familiar build too late.

!

"V!" I lunge under him, snatching at his clothes, as he squeals in terror. Qilin, you . He lands in my arms and I slam onto the pavement, skidding a fair amount. Okay. I've felt worse. My eyes snap immediately to the shaking body in my arms. Taehyung's eyes are screwed shut in fear. A stab of remorse and an unhealthy dose of anger at myself make themselves known.

Next second, the others close in, all speaking at once.

"Hyung!" Jungkook gasps, falling to his knees next to us.

"Tae!" Hoseokie and Jimin shriek.

"What happened?" Namjoon demands loudly, face pale.

"Quiet!" I snap, not looking at them, weary, angry, and in shock from the close call. It doesn't occur to me that I'm using my Qilin voice– the one that sounds like a fate worse than death and is very, very female.

They all shut up, confused and wondering if they have problems with their hearing.

Taehyung blinks his eyes open, which meet mine and then widen in surprise. Oh, no. I make an effort to calm myself, willing my irises to darken. Sure enough, he immediately opens his mouth.

Before he can say anything, I sit up abruptly and adjust my hold, settling him on my lap. I smooth his hair away from his eyes and feel his head carefully. I don't think he hit anything, but it's always safer to check. It also buys me a little time before his hyung-deul try to kill me.

I feel nothing out of the ordinary— my hands come away clean. A quick scan of the rest of his body presents no problems. A muscle ticks in my cheek as I maintain my otherwise calm exterior, but inwardly I'm relieved beyond words. I brush off his beanie, which landed a couple of feet away during the unfortunate incident, before pulling it gently onto his head.

"Didn't harm a hair on your head," I pronounce, when I’m finally certain I have my voice under control. Male and stable.

“Excuse me, Minho-ssi, but what happened?” Yoongi asks tentatively and formally. Everyone else clusters around.

I grunt as I hoist Taehyung to his feet. “I got startled,” I reply brusquely. Better that they learn not to ambush people they’re not familiar with yet. Brushing Taehyung’s clothes off, I catch his eyes and nod apologetically. It’s as much as I’m willing to concede publicly, although I’m beating myself up about it internally.

He nods back, but seems to suddenly remember something. “Your eyes–” he begins. I shake my head once, maintaining eye contact. Don’t. He stops talking, to my relief.

“Taehyung-ah, gwenchana?” Namjoon asks, checking the younger man over.

“Yup, I’m totally fine!” V chirps. “Minho hyung caught me so fast.”

Everyone breathes a sigh of relief.

Bounces back quickly, I think ruefully. I’ll be sore for a few days. I wince despite myself, adrenaline leaving my body. Suddenly, everything stings.

“Is something wrong?” Their manager arrives from within the building.

“Aniyo, everything’s fine,” Jin replies quickly.

“Yup, just deciding where to go eat,” Jimin chimes in.

The boys begin to discuss food, seriously.

Kookie sidles up to me. “Are you hurt anywhere, hyung?” he asks in a low voice.

I almost laugh. Little does he know, the rough pavement was nothing compared to the kisses of my Zodiac brothers’ fists. “I’m fine.” I smile and ruffle his hair. “I’m just glad Taehyung is okay.”

Oppa comes around to my other side. “Yes, are you alright, hyung? Looked like you skidded pretty hard on the pavement.”

My smile falters. Time for you to be concerned about me making a stupid mistake, I guess. I nod weakly at Hoseokie.

“I’m fine. Nothing major. It was my bad anyway– I was preoccupied.”

They step back and look me over dubiously. Hoseokie on my right, Kookie on my left.

“Are you sure? The skid burned through the elbows of your sleeves,” Kookie notes, worried.

“Your shirt ripped on this side too,” Hoseokie states.

Where?!

Lifting my arms nonchalantly, I check my torso. Nothing is showing. The movement makes my shirt ride up, exposing some of my waist.

“Daebak. Hyung, your waist is so slim, like a woman’s!” Kookie exclaims.

I flinch. “Yah, not exactly the best thing to say to a man,” I retort, furrowing my brow at him.

He cringes cutely. “Ah, sorry hyung.”

“In any case, I’m completely fine. Just scratches, nothing I’m not used to.”

Hoseokie shakes his head, impressed and apparently slightly intimidated. “Let’s just go eat.”

***

We end up at a cozy Chinese restaurant, run by Cantonese immigrants. Typical of our kind, they speak brusquely and directly.

“Is there anything you want in particular, hyung?” Namjoon asks. “We come here a lot, so we already know what we want.”

“I’ll buy,” their manager says. “My treat, Minho-ssi.”

I nod. “Thanks, hyung.” Scanning the menu, I look for my favorites. It looks suspiciously sparse, only listing a few popular Korean-friendly dishes. Sweet and sour pork, stir fried noodles, et cetera.

“Auntie! Do you have char siu (barbecue meat)?” I call out to the store owner, flashing a winning smile.

“Oh! First time I’ve seen such a pretty Korean boy who even speaks Cantonese,” the middle-aged lady exclaims, bustling out from behind the counter, her whole face transformed by a smile.

“Daebak,” Taehyung whispers to Jimin. “That ahjumma took so long to smile at us, but she’s smiling and talking to Minho hyung already.”

“Hyung, you speak Cantonese?” Kookie asks, amazed.

“Mm, I do,” I reply. “So, auntie, char siu?” I ask again charmingly.

“Just for you,” she laughs. “Made some for my son last night!”

I grin appreciatively. “Thanks auntie!”

“What was that?” Jin asks curiously as restaurant auntie bustles back behind the counter and starts speaking excitedly to her family.

“Oh, I asked her if she has any char siu, or barbecue meat,” I reply. “It’s one of my favorite foods.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever had that,” Suga says.

Sounds of affirmation from around the table.

I chuckle. “Well, there’s a first time for everything! You all can try it later.”

I manage to avert my gaze from Hoseokie for the most part, instead focusing all my attention on Jungkook, but I can’t help but be drawn back to him from time to time.

It feels so strange to look at him now... Hoseok is no longer the bumbling kid he used to be, and he no longer knows me as the overly mature child who tagged along behind him. In fact, he probably doesn’t remember me at all, I realize. A pang of loss twinges in my chest. And I’m a guy right now, I think bitterly.

The food arrives quickly, to my relief. It’s a welcome distraction from a pathway of thinking that can only lead to negative results.

Restaurant auntie personally places a large plate of char siu in front of me. “This one is on the house,” she announces, smiling.

“Ah, no way,” I refuse, laughing. “I can’t accept this.”

“Young man, I made this for my son and you remind me of him,” she tells me. “Except more handsome, but don’t tell him I said that,” she chuckles.

“Ah... Thank you, auntie,” I laugh sheepishly, bowing slightly.

Everyone looks at me, impressed, when she leaves. Still smiling sheepishly, I start distributing the meat to people’s plates. “Stop looking at me like that, guys, I feel like I just scammed her.”

Everyone laughs and starts to eat.

“I guess you’re just too pretty,” Taehyung says. “I bet you get all the ladies.”

 “I’m too pretty for the ladies I’ve met so far,” I joke.

“You should go into modeling, hyung,” Hoseok suggests.

“Don’t say unnecessary things and just eat,” I retort, wrinkling my nose at him.

He complies automatically.

***

Hoseok’s POV:

“Don’t say unnecessary things and just eat,” Minho hyung retorts, wrinkling his nose at me.

I find myself nodding and reaching to pick up some veggies, then freeze.

Why did that feel so familiar?

Unbidden, the memory comes.

“Genie-ya, do you think I’ll grow as tall as Yao Ming one day?” I asked Jinhee one day over lunch.

She stared at me, as if thinking.

“Hm?” I prompted her when she doesn’t speak.

Jinhee finally shook her head seriously.

“Aw, why not?”

She wrinkled her nose at me, brooking no further questions, and jabbed her chopsticks at my veggies.

“Don’t say unnecessary things and just eat.”

My eyes go back to Minho hyung, searchingly. His surname is Shin, he said. There’s no way they could possibly be related, but my eyes, desperate after years of missing Jinhee, seem to find more and more resemblance with every second. His nose, his eyebrows...

Minho hyung catches me looking at him.

I duck my head, and stick a piece of bok choy in my mouth, chewing robotically.

Genie-ya, I miss you.

***

Qilin’s POV:

The boys and I chat and get to know each other over dinner. Or, at least, the boys and Shin Minho chat and get to know each other.

The endless masquerade has become second nature to me now, but the fear of losing myself still persists. The fear that I don’t have a real personality, that Qilin isn’t real, that Park Jinhee is gone, and I’m only borrowing Shin Minho, Shin Minhee, Jackson, Sarah Yang, and countless other personas temporarily.

After I leave the boys and reactivate my earpiece, Rabbit checks in immediately.

“Yah, where did you go?”

“Got myself a job,” I update him cheerfully. “BTS trainer.”

“Eh?”

“Bangtan Sonyeondan,” I explain. “I’m training them in taekwondo for their next performance.”

He breathes a quiet sigh of relief that I pretend not to hear, even as I roll my eyes. “See you back at the penthouse.”

“Araso.”

The rest of the night passes uneventfully. I return home, browse the internet for a bit, monitor the CCTVs for a while, spend too long in the shower, and watch random variety shows for a few hours before falling asleep on the sofa.

Rabbit drops something on my stomach to wake me up. I blink my eyes open and squint at the pile of clothing before bolting upright and squealing.

“Are you coming with me?”

“Ani,” he denies, and sits down next to me. He shakes out the taekwondo uniform. “I’m not encouraging you to do this, but...”

“But...” I grin at him.

“But, I got you this set, it’s made out of durable fabric, will also hide your band from view,” he rushes, sighing.

“Aww, oppa, you’re the best!” I hug him. “How did you know it was today, though?”

“It’s today?” he gasps, paling.

“Yes, it’s today! I’m so excited!” I hug him forcefully. Checking the time on my watch, I hushed scream. “, I’m going to be late!”

Dashing into the bathroom, I splash water on my face, scrub my teeth furiously with a toothbrush and too much toothpaste, and dash back out. Stripping, I grab a black tank top and grey sweats, pulling them on as quickly as possible. I snatch the uniform out of Rabbit’s hands and stuff it into a gear bag, then flick Rabbit’s forehead to shock him out of his stunned state before running out the door, swiping my car keys on the way.

“Bye!”

“Be careful!” he calls out resignedly.

In the elevator, I exhale and punch the button on my my ribcage yet again. The familiar constricting sensation returns. I huff and wait impatiently for the doors to open on the ground floor.