“You really need to stop randomly disappearing. The teachers are beginning to get suspicious.”

Or at least, I thought they had. They should’ve been. But all of them accepted Jongin’s excused absences like they were nothing. I didn’t understand, but somehow his reasons (most of which he refused to tell me) worked enough to persuade the teachers and not have them hate him at the same time because he missed so much class

“They’re not suspicious,” he told me in a no-nonsense tone. “And no, the teachers aren’t suspicious. You’re making that part up.”

“Alright genius, maybe I’m the suspicious one.”

At that, all Jongin did was laugh at me, which wasn’t anything less than typical.

Chapter 42

Having Jaeyeon was fun, but not having Jinyoung around felt wrong. It was awful, really, even if what he cooked was also awful, but without him the house was empty and strange. Jaeyeon was sweet, but there was no way she could fill the empty place in the house that left with Jinyoung. I would just have to wait. Which was stupid, because I was also gone often from home and it wasn’t like I spoke much to my brother when he was there. Still, not seeing him sitting at his work desk with his laptop just felt… disconcerting.

The second day at school was relatively normal again. Somehow, I managed to completely avoid Park Jimin (this was done in which I walked Jaeyeon to her locker and all but ran, half feeling obliged to Jaeyeon yet not enough to stay for longer) because I still couldn’t shake off just how awkward it was not to bicker with him for once and how much I’d genuinely been used to his jabs and comments about how useless I was. The fact that he obviously wasn’t comfortable with it either made it worse. 

He wasn’t at Jaeyeon’s locker when I got out of class, but leaning against mine, arms folded across his chest. I gaped, a bit shocked that he actually knew where my locker was and more than confused about just what he wanted to talk to me about. Since Kai’s death, the only things Jimin said to me were apologies and once, an awkward attempt at a conversation. Now with him here, I wasn’t sure what to expect. Him to ask me about my day? Or another sorry?

It wasn’t either of them. He didn’t try to apologize, to my relief, and his tone was neutral. Still strange that it wasn’t downright condescending, but at least it wasn’t awkward.

“Kai not here today,” he informed me. “Baekhyun just called to tell me that he, Kai and Kyungsoo were called last minute in for a mission and it’s actually a bit far, so he left school early. I was given the instructions to—“ he wrinkled his nose, “apparently, you’re going to our safehouse to train today.”

I gaped at him. “Come again?”

Jimin didn’t seem to be able to stop himself from rolling his eyes. “You’re going to our safehouse,” he said slowly, like explaining instructions to a child. There he is. He’s back. “For training.”

“I heard you the first time,” I muttered. “But why? That’s stupid.”

He didn’t argue with that fact, just said, “Not my decision. And not yours, either.”

Immediately, I was trying to think of ways to get myself out of it. Thinking of excuses had always come easy (even if sometimes they were terrible ones), but this time, they were more or less legit. “Jaeyeon’s staying at my house right now,” I told him. “Do I drag her over to your safehouse or something? Pretty sure that’s not allowed.”

“It’s only for an hour. You should be home by six.”

“But Jaeyeon—”

“Can go somewhere else until six.”

“It’s also a school night.”

“You’d be doing the same thing at the other safehouse if Kai were there, so really, nothing changes.

“Why am I going to your safehouse? If Kai, Kyungsoo and Baekhyun are going, there’s still sufficient people to train with—”

Jimin gave me a look. “Kai’s a good fighter and a good teacher,” he said. “I’m a good fighter. I’ve never taught. But I’m assuming that they wanted someone with a similar skill level and combat technique as Kai to take over for today, and because they’re trying to quicken your training, that was the decision they made. If you have a problem with it, go argue with Luhan and Jin.”

“I’m training with you?” I demanded, horrified.

Jimin looked like he was debating between slamming his head into the locker or mine. “Yes,” he said slowly, patience obviously fraying (or completely frayed, for the matter). “Now, anymore questions that I’ve already answered?”

It was obviously a hopeless cause. Groaning, I shook my head, still between the line of being surprised and confused and annoyed. “Let me text Jaeyeon,” I grumbled, “and sort something out.”

***

Jaeyeon put way too little protest into it. She cheerfully told me she could study at a library until six and that she could concentrate there better, and a little guilty about making her stay out, I headed to Jimin’s safehouse.

It was a bit further than the one I was used to, but that wasn’t the worst part. The fact that it was far meant that I had to walk longer with Jimin in addition to the time I would have to be training with him for, which was literally an open invitation for him to criticize me with no repercussions. Everything was horrible, I thought miserably.

Jimin walked in silence for some time as I trailed after him. Then, he turned around. “Do you have your weapon with you?”

I still couldn’t get used to the casual way all the Athanatoi talked about weapons. Kai did it all the time, and it didn’t get any less disconcerting, especially when he pulled out a knife sheathed in some hidden place like it was nothing.

“No,” I said.

“What do you prefer?”

Back to awkward conversations. “A shortsword.”

“We’ll use knives today, then.”

I stared at him for a good couple seconds, and he met my gaze steadily. “What? I said—I said I’m good with a shortsword, not a knife. Or knives, plural. That’s probably even worse.”

He had the audacity to look amused. “I’m well aware.”

“So why are we training with knives?”

Jimin stopped walking to look at me. For a moment, I was certain that his condescending how stupid can Mira get look was back, but then I realized that his expression was actually serious.

“One day,” he said, “if you find yourself in a situation in which you can’t choose to use your preferred weapon, what will you do?”

A great question. A logical one. But I still did not want to fight with knives. “Use my power?”

“Your power’s limited. Part of training is learning to use a weapon. And fight with one when necessary, because growing up, we’re all taught to never rely solely on our power.”

I winced at growing up. Just another reminder that he still didn’t consider me one of them—why would he, when I myself didn’t?—and that no matter how hard I trained, I would never be the same as the rest of the Athanatoi.

If Jimin noticed, though, he didn’t say anything. “The point is,” he told me, “you need to train with as much as you can, so you’ll be prepared for any situation. Knives are extremely common weapons, and they’re easily concealed. You should learn the basics with them, at least.”

Kai used knives, I remembered. He was quick with them, and Jimin was right—they were easily concealed, and the fact that Kai wore his everywhere without anybody (including me) finding out was a testament to it. Still, I couldn’t ever see myself fighting with knives. “My arms are short,” I told Jimin. “Knives are short. Imagine how much closer I’d have to get to someone in order to strike.”

He snorted. “Well, we could try the broadsword, but you might swing once and find yourself on the floor because it’s practically your weight. If you can lift it in the first place.”

“Try me,” I shot back before realizing that his tone wasn’t necessarily…judgemental. In fact, it felt more like something I would hear from Kai, the light teasing that he never could lay off on. Without malice, or any ill intent. And the strangest part was that it seemed to come naturally.

But Kai was Kai. Jimin?

Another long moment in which neither of us spoke, as if he could tell that his comment felt out of place. Finally, Jimin shook his head at me and pointed down the road. “We’re almost there,” he said, with the faintest hint of embarrassment in his voice. “We’ll do knives today. You can ask your boyfriend about that broadsword if you’re interested next time.”

I didn’t have the heart to correct him on boyfriend, partially because it was the truth and partially because he looked just as flustered as I felt.

***

I had a spare change of gym clothes in my backpack. Awfully inelegant and slightly baggy on me, but it wasn’t as if I was an elegant fighter in the first place.

Jimin was waiting in the training room of the safehouse. The design was more or less similar to the one I was used to although the furniture and kitchen was much more modern. Although I knew how to get there, Taehyung, always enthusiastic, offered to show me to the training rooms in the basement.

In the corner of the room, Jimin seemed to be polishing the knives. Taehyung wished me an awfully ominous good luck before leaving, and I stood at the door, unsure of what to do and what to expect and if that good luck was a joke or not.

Jimin walked over with four knives casually balanced. They curve of the blade gleamed wickedly, and I had a sudden image of him throwing them at me instead.

Instead, he raised an eyebrow. “Nice outfit.”

I looked down at my gym clothes. “The fact that I even have a change of clothes is a miracle,” I told him pointedly. “Are you going to teach me the basics? I don’t know how to fight with knives.” Arguably, I don’t know how to fight with a shortsword either, but that’s negligible information.

“I don’t think you need the basics,” Jimin mused. “I mean, holding the blades are similar, blade are similar, but balance is a bit different. You’ll need to learn what it’s like to use both hands instead of one. We’ll start with an easy drill.”

I had doubts that Jimin could teach, period. But as he talked, I wondered just how much of him I didn’t really know. It was hard to imagine him as anything else than how he’d treated me for the past months, but if he was a complete I doubted he’d have friends. Briefly, I wondered what it would’ve been like to be friends with him, if