“Preliminary…training?” You stare at Kibum, confused, caught in between the line for breakfast and the hallway leading to the exit.

He nods. “Yeah, yours starts in twenty, so I’d head over to there as soon as you finish with breakfast. It’s over by the track, past the dojo. Actually, though, I’d skip the breakfast. Don’t wanna be throwing up; the janitor’s going to throw a huge fit.”

“Um, okay, but what is–oh, well, okay then. Nevermind.” You watch cluelessly as Kibum effortlessly disappears into the crowd of drowsy mages, shouting names and directions, waving around mission papers.

//

Twenty minutes.

“Wow,” the instructor says, tucking his pocket watch back into the folds of his clothes. “He’s really late. Are you sure Yoongi’s even like, alive?”

“I mean, well, I just saw him yesterday,” you say. The instructor looks skeptical, as if suggesting that people have randomly died in the middle of the night, but says nothing. You’re a bit too aware that you don’t know the guy’s name. You kind of want to ask, but you suppose he’ll probably formally introduce himself when Yoongi gets here. Or rather, if Yoongi gets here.

“Okay, well, in that case, I’m gonna to go to the bathroom, and when I get back, if Yoongi still isn’t here, we’ll just start without him. One on one training isn’t a bad idea, really.”

He disappears before you can even reply, a gust of wind billowing past in place of his presence. You sigh and take a seat on a wooden stump, crossing your arms. The track is located behind a tall door, fenced out from view. You stare at the dark red wood, wondering what’s past it, what the League’s track would look like, why they felt the need to keep it so protected.

“Why are you here?”

The voice startles you out of your thoughts. You turn around, surprised to see Yoongi. He looks as if he’d just crawled out of bed and dragged himself over here. Probably what actually happened.

“Good question,” you say. “Why am I here? Why do we have preliminary training? What is that anyways?”

“You didn’t answer my question,” Yoongi says.

“And you didn’t answer mine,” you shoot back.

Yoongi mumbles something unintelligible under his breath. “Okay, fine,” he says, sighing. “Preliminary training is just basically prep work before we go on the mission. Some fitness checks, sometimes supplementary language and culture classes, and for team missions there’s always the synergy training and tests and . Not all missions have Pre-T, but this one does because it’s gotten increasingly dangerous in that area. And Kibum’s too far up my for me to back out.”

“Sounds reasonable enough,” you say. He raises a brow; you suppose that it’s your turn to answer questions now. “And speaking of Kibum, yeah, he kinda convinced me to take on the mission. For his sake. To help you.”

“I don’t need your help.”

“Well, Kibum thinks otherwise,” you say. Why is he so adamant about this? Are you that abhorrent? “And I want this mission as well, so I guess we’ll just have to share. The pay was going to be split fifty-fifty, but if it’ll make you less grumpy, I’d be okay with sixty-forty.” A generous offer, considering you aren’t the veteran of the League and, thus, do not have an already significant stash of money saved up.

Yoongi sighs and leans against the wall, his shoulders hunched. The preliminary training instructor still hasn’t shown back up. “I don’t really care about the money,” he says, slowly. “You can have all of it, for all I care.”

You raise a brow. “Then why?”

There are many meanings behind your question. Why are you doing this, why are you here if you don’t like it, why do you not want me here, why did you suddenly seem so cold–

“Because–”

“Alright,” a voice booms, loudly. Yoongi takes it as a good enough excuse to stop talking, deftly avoiding your question. You shoot him a look from the corner of your eye, annoyed, confused–mess of conflicting emotions. “Seeing as both of you are finally here, we can start. Welcome to Pre-T.”

Suddenly, vapor and dust begin to gather together in front of you, packing tighter and tighter until a man with a weather beaten face is standing before you two. A much flashier entrance than before. The instructor glances at you and Yoongi before clearing his throat, adjusting the katana that rests at his hip.

“Alright,” he says. “I’m Jihun, by the way. But remembering my name isn’t really important. What’s more important–” he stops to tighten his gauntlets and crack his knuckles “–is preparing you guys. Am I clear?”

You don’t quite know how to feel. “Um, yeah,” you say. His tone is stern, but his expression makes you want to squish his cheeks.

“Okay, so let’s start off with thirty laps.”

You gape at him.

His smile is innocent, too innocent. He holds up the key for the track doors. You prepare to die.

//

You had no idea what exactly you were expecting when he said thirty laps, but you were definitely not expecting this.

The track you’re running on probably can’t even be called a track; large parts are unpaved, winding dirt paths. You run through several stretches of various terrain, leaping over lava rivers and sliding across swathes of ice. If anything, the “track” feels more like an obstacle course; Jihun, however, insists cheerily on calling it a track.

By the time you manage to finish, your lungs are aching, limbs burning. Yoongi is panting heavily, his bangs soaked in sweat. He attempts to wipe his face with his shirt. It does little to help; it’s already soaked through. You’d usually consider the copious amounts of sweat gross, but right now you aren’t in much of a better state.

“Finally done?” Jihun asks. He gets up from where he’s been sitting, dusting off his pants.

“Yeah,” you gasp. “Barely alive, but done.”

Jihun yawns and stretches, arching his back. He makes a satisfied noise that sounds disturbingly like a purr.

“Oh,  you,” Yoongi grumbles under his breath. You have to agree.

Jihun simply smirks. Then he unsheathes his sword.

There isn’t even a warning, no shing sound or acrobatics. Jihun simply dashes straight between the two of you, almost imperceptibly. You would’ve thought he’d teleported directly behind you and Yoongi if you hadn’t felt the soft gust of wind from his movements.

The pain comes milliseconds after you’ve finally registered the situation; it sears your skin and colors it blue-black. Thankfully, Jihun hadn’t made to cut either of you, just dealt blows with the flat of his sword. Still, his whole surprise attack has you doing a double take. Your breath catches; you have to double over to deal with the pain.

“Holy hell, are we supposed to two v one you now?” Yoongi says, his voice choked with surprise. His blades meld into existence, crossing dimensions and growing in size.

“Nah,” Jihun says. “Not today, at least. A 2v1 isn’t really fair for me, anyways. That was just more of a wake up call. Today we’re just supposed to be working on partner drills.” He smiles in a way that makes you think, immediately, unsafe. “My hand was itching, the sword told me to, blah blah blah. Sorry. Need ice?”

You look at Yoongi, who is so steely-faced that you have to look away. You turn back to Jihun. “It’s okay, I think we’ll be fine.”

He grins widely. “Alright, so now that that’s done, we can get into the real training.”

//

“Behind you!” Yoongi yells, tearing right through an orc’s throat. It makes a choked noise as it falls to the ground. Quickly you whirl around, shooting magic straight through the predatory gutlon before it can sink its gnarled claws into your shoulder blades.

You manage to take care of a few more monsters, finishing off the wave, and then instinctively back up to cover Yoongi. The new surge could start any moment–

“Alright, a few things before we start again,” Jihun says, materializing from–wherever the he was. “You guys already work pretty well together, but Yoongi, bro, you’ve stiffened up. And ________, you need to work on your aim. Also,” he says, turning to you. “You’re mid-to-long ranged, correct? And Yoongi’s close range? So it’s perfect. You guys complement each other. Now, work on that. The two of you have a lot of potential for synergy and you’re showing it, but I know you guys can accomplish more together.”

It’s the first actual compliment he’s paid you guys since the start of training, and you tilt your head and grin. “Thanks, dude–”

“Incoming,” Jihun says brightly, and disappears as an orc swings a club towards your face.

//

It’s easy to lose himself in the training–almost too easy. Amidst it all, Yoongi manages to forget. He leans back against you. You laugh, and he feels the vibrations from the sound; your voice is starting to rasp with exertion.

“Tired?”

“Are you not?” he replies.

“Better off than you.” Snarky, teasing. He smiles and raises a brow.

“Are you trying to call me out?”

“Not really,” you reply. “Was just expecting more from a veteran member.” You crack a smile.

He leans his head back, knocking it against your shoulder, and laughs. “And I was expecting more from the League’s newest recruit.”

“Oh? Is that a challenge?” The wave of monsters emerge from the shadows of the woods, groaning and roaring.

“Wasn’t intended to be, but I’m down for one,” he says, smirking, and then straightens up and shoots a blade straight through a monster’s throat.

//

You notice the seal only because you’d accidentally walked into the wrong locker room before training.

(In all fairness, you were extremely tired, it was early in the morning, and he didn’t notice, anyways. You’d spun around and left as soon as you saw him taking off his shirt.)

The seal’s tattooed on the front of his torso, just around his navel. It’s a metallic gold color, and you almost would’ve missed it if the morning sun hadn’t been shining directly on his pale skin, bouncing light off of it. You ask him about it during a brief water break, sort of an offhand question, simply out of curiosity.

As soon as the words leave your lips, he stiffens, his mouth changing from a slight smile to a thin, flat, line. He doesn’t say a word, and turns away.

Not wanting to stick your nose in such a sensitive subject, you drop it.

Slowly, your curiosity fades. The seal slips your mind.

//

Training persists as normal for the rest of the week, five hours straight, morning to afternoon. Yoongi still arrives late every day, but he’s