Jiyong is now insisting that she carry a few knives and maybe even a gun around with her at all times, and Shira’s head just drops with a sigh, trying to figure out how she would hide a gun in her bag without ever being caught. The knives are easy enough, because they could be strapped to her forearms or calves, but a gun would be harder to conceal in her bag.

The thought makes Shira uneasy, and she wraps a thick scarf around the gun, making sure to keep the safety on as she carefully places the gun at the bottom of her bag.

She turns on her phone screen, and then freezes when seeing the date. No. No.

She bolts to her closet, taking out her black hanbok, cursing. Guilt bubbles from her stomach. How could she forget?

It’s the anniversary of his death. Big Bang probably knows, and that’s why they didn’t say anything. Shira runs out the door, pausing at the flowers in a vase.

They remember.

But she pushes out the entrance of the apartment anyway, not bothering to say anything to Jiyong, who pauses what he’s doing as soon as he looks up to see her.

She takes a deep breath before running into her car and diving inside. She needs to leave. Being with the rest of Big Bang today would just bring back old memories that would make her feel even worse.

Jiyong opens the door to the apartment, a twisted expression on his face, and Shira floors the car, trying to escape. Only after a few minutes of dodging traffic does she allow herself to calm down.

Jay. Jay died three years ago today. The sun is shining, like nothing is wrong, and pure anger races through her veins as she grips the steering wheel.

There are children walking to school, people talking on the phone, and everyone seems normal. Normal. It’s a funny word. If Jay was still alive, would he be normal? Would he be laughing, coming back for dinner after demolishing Seungri in a faceoff with their sniper rifles?

Would she still have a family?

And suddenly, her world starts crashing down on herself. Her lip trembles, and she attempts to hold back her tears to no avail, and she curses, knowing that the makeup scars on her face aren’t waterproof. She flips down the mirror of the car, and realizes that some of her makeup is ruined. She’d have to redo it before class.

But it doesn’t hide her rapidly swelling and red-rimmed eyes.

What would have Jay done if he was alive? Jay Park was supposed to be impenetrable, invincible, and now he was dead. First name first, just like Americans do.

His real name had been Park Jaebeom, but as a little kid, Shira wasn’t able to say his full name. So Jay had stuck, even when they grew older. They moved to Korea from Seattle together after their parents had died, they struggled together, and they fought together.

He discovered his true talents when he was seventeen, and he was ashamed of himself. Shira had only been eight years old, and he spent the better part of two years hiding what was going on from Shira. And then at the age of ten, she had found his Glock hastily shoved inside a drawer and dropped it in his lap, asking why there was a gun in the apartment.

At the time, Jiyong had been over, talking about their closely-tied businesses, and the two of them paled. But Jay had held her hand and confessed, with tears dripping down his face, saying that they had no money and he was forced to turn to a world that he never knew that he would have to see.

“What about the money that Mom and Dad left us?” She had asked, and he had just shaken his head, saying that some very bad people in America took it away from them.

She found out later that it he had been telling the truth, but not the entire truth. Those people who had ruined their family and had made their parents’ death look like an accident had been their own uncles. And that’s when Shira realized that the world was a cruel, twisted place.

It didn’t matter at the moment, because Jay had been the poster child for the best big brother, despite his guns and tattoos. He brought over the rest of Big Bang, and suddenly it was like Shira had six brothers instead of one. For a better part of eight years, they became her foster family.

And then the world came crashing down three years ago. The gang world was painful and unforgiving. It was painted with blood and death and gruesomeness, but the extent hadn’t really hit her until the gang war.

Jay had another job that day, but Shira knew something was off. And she had gotten there just in time, only to find Jay, barely conscious and too far gone.

Shira swallows, barely aware of her surroundings as she parks in the parking lot of the university, opening her glove box and grabbing her makeup, redoing two of her makeup blemishes and spraying a waterproof setting spray on top so that it wouldn’t wear off for the rest of the day. There is nothing that could hide her red-rimmed eyes though, and she just hopes that no one looks too closely.
 

Taehyung frowns, looking over at Sonha, who is sitting a few seats away. He couldn’t focus. He could swear that her eyes are red and there's a tear trailing down her cheek.

But her face drops again, and her glasses make it hard to tell, and Taehyung turns back towards the lecture.

Her finger are loosely holding a pencil, and Taehyung cranes his head slightly. Her notebook is completely empty.

The bell rings and she hurriedly shoves her notes into her bag, cursing as a book falls out. She moves to pick it up, and the girl that had been after Taehyung for a while chooses to step over it. Shira straightens up, book clutched to her chest and is face-to-face with the other female.

Taehyung growls, shoving his own stuff in his bag. Whatever her problem was, it was with him and not her. As much as he acted like he didn’t care to everyone outside of Bangtan, he wasn’t going to let this happen.

He walks towards the two, and he catches words of “You’re Taehyung’s lab partner, right?” and “Do you think you can give me his number?”

She blinks twice before answering with a tired, “I don’t have time for this,” and Taehyung can’t help the feeling of pride swelling in his chest, even if it did seem a little out of character for her.

But words catch in his throat when she pushes past him without a second look. That is odd to begin with, but they have research lab after this class, so they are headed in the same direction.

He traces her steps, heading up towards the research lab, and pulls on his lab coat and goggles. She sits, scanning over the procedure and says nothing when he sits down next to her, samples in hand.

And she continues to say nothing during the day’s procedure, other than quiet, “Pass the deionized water,” or “Do you have the two-hundred microliter sized pipette tips?”

So they go through the motions in silence, and Taehyung couldn’t help but wonder if it’s something he did. Maybe she isn’t quiet because of the fright from a few days ago, but she does seem to be somewhat avoiding him.

“Sonha?”

She doesn’t respond, caught up in her own world as she wipes down the counter.

“Sonha!”

“What?” Her flat answer irritates him more than it should.

“What do you mean ‘what?’” Taehyung growls. “We’re research partners, yet you’ve said nothing about your test results or if you’re ready to work with the plasmid.”

“It’s not like you treated me like your research partner instead of a servant for more than a week when we started working in the lab.” Her sharp answer makes the anger flare more inside of him.

“I said I was sorry, and what’s your problem with me?” Taehyung bites his tongues slightly, realizing that his words came out much more aggressive than necessary. He hadn’t really apologized, but he is sorry.

“My problem?” She arches her eyebrows, throwing her dirtied paper towel in the trash with more force than necessary. The tension between the two was unmistakable, and she hisses, “If I godd*mn knew what my problem was, I wouldn’t be here, confused and unsure what to say.”

“So that’s my fault?”

“Well it’s not helping that you’re confusing me!” She bursts, and then freezes, realizing what her words imply, and she looks like she's about to bolt. But Taehyung is faster. With their lab stools blocking to both sides and the lab bench behind her, he smoothly blocks off he