I’m crouching behind a spiraling black turret on the second-story of the Gothic mansion. I’ve sat here with my back against the stone wall as the sun completed its arc through the sky, as the temperature soared to 80 degrees and back.

Waiting.

My fingers nervously dance over the smooth grip of my black parang. The weapon probably isn’t the best choice for my objective; a long-range weapon coupled with some strategically placed chi bombs would have a higher chance of success.

But it’s my favorite blade. I still remember the euphoria that rushed through me as I brandished the parang in the Windsong lab, admiring its iridescent black carbon steel and lightweight blade. There’s something beautiful in the way the sword curves like the handle of a violin; in the way such an elegant instrument so swiftly delivers death.

And I want to see Jimin’s face when I stab him.

It’s a warm, moonless night. The air is utterly still, save for the sound of crickets humming.

And then I hear something.

The faint hum of a car engine rolls in the distance. I watch in anticipation as a sleek Mercedes S-Class pulls into the driveway. Its bright white headlights cause me to shrink further back behind the turret.

“-is still bitter, even after all this time,” Namjoon loudly guffaws. Car doors slam. The Mercedes chirps with its auto-lock. “He’s so desperate.”

“He’s always hated you since that game against Anderson,” Jimin chortles.

“That was the best night of my senior year,” Yoongi says. “The energy in the stands was crazy. Taehyung played like a god.”

Namjoon snorts. “Hard to imagine Taehyung being anything but high. Isn’t that right, Tae?”

“ off,” a horribly familiar voice mutters.

Okay. Jimin isn’t alone. This adds another layer of complications.

That’s fine. As long as I maul him, I don’t need to come out of this alive.

The voices come closer and closer towards the house. Judging by the next few moments of conversation, Jimin, Taehyung, Namjoon, and Yoongi are the only ones here. My muscles are tensed; I am poised to jump at the right moment.

Three.

Two.

One.

I spring off the roof, my parang poised at the ready. Yoongi sees me coming too late; he lets out a short yelp, too surprised to retaliate. I slam my elbow into his head and send him toppling to the ground before he can react.

“What the ,” Namjoon hisses. His hands light up with fiery yellow energy, ready to swing at me. I duck as he throws a vicious right cross in the space where my face was a few seconds ago. His chi catches the ends of my hair, sizzling the tips right off. My right foot whips out and hooks around his ankle. Namjoon teeters for a moment, caught off balance, and that’s all I need to jab my open palm in his solar plexus so hard that he’s doubled over wheezing.

Jimin is grinning.

“Someone’s been practicing,” he says gleefully.

“I’m going to destroy you,” I growl, leaping at him, parang whipping through the air towards his torso-

A vibrating force clangs against my metal. The impact throws me back; my arm twinges with the force of expelled impact.

“Get back,” Taehyung snarls, his entire body alight with blue flames. His eyes are slightly bloodshot- is he high right now? He could seriously hurt himself. I glare at Jimin, who is amusedly watching the scene unfold in front of him.

“Taehyung,” I say in a low voice. “Get out of my way. I don’t want to fight you.”

He scoffs. “That’s my Junior Vice Captain. You’re not going to touch him.”

And then he snaps his fingers. The flames radiating off him morph into a hundred angled blue arrows that fly straight at my torso. I whip my parang through the air, cleaving through the magical weapons. Shards of energy scatter around us, burning flecks of skin on my neck and arms and shoulders. While I am distracted by the arrows, Taehyung flies straight at me. A blinding mass of light is gripped in the palm of his hand. I watch as it elongates, sharpens into a glowing blue broadsword. My body hits the ground on instinct; a few seconds later and his blade would’ve pierced straight through my side.

Is he fighting to kill?, I wonder. The frigid, stoic expression on his face is making my skin crawl. Does he seriously intend to hurt me?

“You’re too slow!” Jimin laughs behind Taehyung. I snap back to focus and realize that Taehyung’s broadsword is coming down fast above my head.

“!” I swear, rolling away in the grass. The weapon cleaves up dirt next to me. I raise my parang, my body braced for a defensive maneuver from his blade-

But instead of using his weapon, or even throwing chi down at me, Taehyung simply kicks my blade out of my hand.

My eyes widen. I scramble to grip my parang again, but Taehyung has already placed the tip of his broadsword at my neck.

“I’m impressed,” Jimin says, clapping slowly. “The last time I saw you, you were making baby amulets. Now you’re fighting like a big girl. Jin did a great job.”

“You- ing- bastard,” I pant. If looks could decapitate, Jimin would be on the ground next to Namjoon and Yoongi.

“Aw. Still hate me more than ever, I see.”

“Oh, sorry for not forgiving you for ruining Lucy’s life.”

Jimin snorts. “She ruined her own life by deciding to attack me when she’s two years out of practice. I was just showing her what she had to catch up to.”

“She’s gone because of you!” I shriek, my voice cracking on my last word. “She could be dead!”

Jimin smirks. “Dead? Aww, was she that embarrassed? Poor little Lucy.”

A mangled scream rip out of my throat; I grab my parang from the grass and slap aside Taehyung’s sword, determined to charge at Jimin and cut that awful look off his face-

A firm pair of arms swing around my waist and fling me to the ground. Taehyung is towering above me, his foot planted straight on my chest.

“Go home,” he utters.

Despite my will, tears start to rapidly blur my vision. I stare up at Taehyung’s face, my chest aching.

“Taehyung,” I whisper. “Please.”

His stare is unrelenting.

“Go home, Joo,” he repeats.

There are a million missed calls from Jin, Dev, Tom, Jungkook, and Sofia when I wake up.

Jin: Namjoon just texted me- what did you do??????

Dev: JOO WHAT THE HELL, how could you not bring backup?!

Tom: You could’ve gotten yourself KILLED, Joohyun.

Jungkook: Do you have a death wish?

Sofia: IF YOU PULL A STUNT LIKE THAT AGAIN, I WILL LITERALLY FLY BACK FROM RHODE ISLAND TO BEAT YOUR .

My clock reads 3:48 PM. I groan, burying my face in my pillow.

“When’s the last time you ate something?” Lucy asks.

I raise my head, my eyes narrowed.

“You’ve gotta stop showing up,” I say. “I know you’re not real.”

Lucy rolls her eyes. “Glad you know that. You’re really losing it, huh?”

“Why did you never teach me to cook before you left?”

“I tried. You took forever to make stuff. Maybe now you’ll be faster at chopping vegetables, since you’re some knife-obsessed freak.”

“I’m not knife-obsessed. I just switched my expertise to making offensive weapons instead of defensive amulets.”

“Hmm. Well, don’t let all my kitchenware go to waste.”

“How are the lights in this place still on? I’ve been living here for a year and everything’s still functioning. Who’s paying the bills?”

Lucy shrugs. “At least you have a place to stay that’s not Taehyung’s.”

I finally manage to pull myself out of my room and drive Lucy’s car to ShopRite. The harsh fluorescent lights of the grocery store don’t do much for my complexion.

“Maybe I should be adventurous and buy some protein bars,” I mutter. “That might help.”

I turn into Aisle 9- and instantly regret my decision. Mrs. Kim is staring back at me, her hand enclosed around a box of CLIF bars. For a moment, we simply look at each other in surprise.

“Joo!” she finally exclaims. “It’s so nice to see you!”

“Hey, Mrs. Kim,” I say tonelessly.

Her eyes rove over me, taking over my haggard appearance, my oversized black sweatshirt with the hood up, the boxes of frozen chicken and readymade mac-n-cheese in my shopping cart.

“Your mom told me you’re heading to UC Berkeley in the fall,” she says. “Are you excited?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Mrs. Kim overzealously bobs her head up and down. “That’s great. That’s so great. You’ve always been so smart, Joo.”

I tighten my lips. “Thanks.”

An uncomfortable silence hangs in the air. I wonder if it’s the appropriate time for me to exit this conversation.

“I miss having you in the house,” Mrs. Kim suddenly blurts out. “I never see you anymore.”

“Ah, yeah. Well.”

“Do you want to come over for dinner tonight?”

My eyebrows shoot up.

No. Absolutely not.

“I have... plans,” I tell her.

“Please, Joo,” she murmurs. “Taehyung’s back, too. He’d love to see you as well.”

Something curls up inside the pit of my stomach. I tighten my grip around my shopping cart.

“And Andrews! Andrews keeps asking about you.”

That makes me pause. “Andrews?”

“Yeah. He really likes you.”

. I really like Andrews, too. In full honesty, I forgot he existed. Every character in my life has turned into a nameless blur in the last year.

“Alright,” I say. “I’ll be there.”