“Checkmate, daughter.”

If it wasn’t evident that she cared about Minjoo, it was surely made clear after her sight tunnel-visioned onto her and her father. They were in a battlefield right now, gunshots and blood and screaming everywhere, but all she could see was wavering eyes trying hard not to show fear, but Chaewon knew. If she had to put her life on the line to wipe that look away, then so be it.

If her father started to make a run for it with Minjoo in his grasp, she knew that wherever he went, she would too. Because that’s where Minjoo is. And , she’s been away from her for too long.

But he doesn’t run. He doesn’t even try to escape.

Instead, he stares at her, really stares into her soul. His eyes are so wildly dark and it’s clear he’s lost it. She was familiar with the way he worked, the way he coldly concluded every mission and kill and always handled things with frightening efficiency. But now, he was out of his mind. She knew: all he wanted to do was torture her, hurt her. And he knew exactly how to do that.

“It’s amazing how much confidence and audacity you have, even after being abandoned by your family. I thought you understood your worth back then; I thought you were smart, daughter. It’s clear that you’re not. And it seems like there’s one thing that’ll really break you.”

Chaewon forgets how to breathe when the muzzle presses harder against Minjoo’s skull. She feels like everything around her is silent, that the only thing she hears is the gulp Minjoo takes and the heavy breathing of her father. In her mind, the thought that flashed through her mind--what if? In a split second, her world goes black: she pictures her father pressing his shaking finger against the trigger, the bullet ending what was supposed to be such a beautiful life, a beautiful soul, an angel--

--ended with the hand of the devil.

She sees his victorious grin, wild like a starved animal, basking in the joy of Minjoo’s blood running down his hand and onto the pavement, laughing as he lets go entirely, letting her body fall to the pavement with a dull thud as though she were nothing but a mere doll to be thrown away. And interestingly, she can’t imagine herself. She can’t imagine what or who she was before Minjoo, and she knows that if Minjoo’s gone, she is too.

Chaewon watches as though a spectator viewing a film on a screen, captivated and breathless as the characters make their way through the story.

But then she stops it. That split second was too much for her to bear, and she knows that she can not, will not go down like this. Not like this, not Minjoo.

The screen cuts out, and her mind is back to reality, as painful as it was. Because no matter what her mind conjured, the truth was still there: her father with a loaded gun pressed against Minjoo’s head.

But how could she do this alone? What could she do? He had a weapon trained towards his target, and all she had was the determination to make him stop.

How? How could she do this?

“I’m going to blow her ing brains out, splatter her blood all over the pavement and step all over it, just because I can.”

Chaewon’s breath stops.

“The world is dangerous, daughter, and it’s too bad that you chose the side of the victim.”

His finger starts to press down--

“ off!”

It’s Eunbi’s voice, strained and desperate, but it’s her. Screaming her heart out, trying to have something, anything happen.

And she does.

Because that split second of distraction is all she needs.

Chaewon lunges for her father with every bit of energy she has left and kicks the gun out of his hand. Heck, she was still every bit of badass as she was before, and she intends to use that to her advantage. She has only one goal in mind: saving Minjoo.

She notices that he tries to tighten his grip on Minjoo once the gun is out of his grasp, but Chaewon is faster.

And you know what? She couldn’t do this alone, no. If she were alone, none of this would be possible. Minjoo would be dead, blood splattered on the pavement just like her father predicted. But she’s not alone.

But her father? He was alone. The world was dangerous, and he was just a scared, lonely little boy, acting like he was the predator when he has always been just a pretender, a liar, because he was the victim, he was the prey. And him for acting otherwise.

Chaewon would win. They would win.

So when he tries to make another move, Chaewon feels everyone else propelling her. She feels Wonyoung, Eunbi, her mother, Minjoo. All of them. She had always been fast and strong, sure, but it’s nothing like the way she moves in this moment, pushing him away and pulling Minjoo out of his grasp. Even in those few moments, she fully registers the look they share, no words needed. She gets it.

It all happens in a flash: making sure Minjoo is okay, pushing her a bit further away, turning back towards her father who still looks intent on beating the out of her.

Good luck with that, Chaewon thinks. She’s confident in her ability to win right now.

But she doesn’t realize that the gun had entered the equation again. She doesn’t realize that it’s back in his grasp until his shaking finger pressed against the trigger.

That film plays again, the one where her world goes black and her soul seems to disappear entirely. For a second, she’s scared. Really scared.

It’s my story. This is my story.

When you don’t like the ending of your story, you can change it, right? This was Chaewon’s story, and she didn’t like this ending, not at all.

So she’d change it.

There’s a feeling of relief that washes over her as the bullet enters her body, because at least she knows it’s not entering Minjoo’s. There’s a sense of calm as Eunbi runs up from behind her father, tackling him to the ground and actually getting the gun away from him this time. Even when seeing Minjoo’s horrified face, she feels relaxed--happy, even--because Minjoo is okay.

“N-no, no,” she hears, but it sounds so distant and fuzzy.

“Oh, hey,” Chaewon smiles a little, a bit pissed off at the blood covering her eyes a bit and obscuring her view of Minjoo. Seriously, the audacity. Did Minjoo always look so… blurry? And there must be something seriously wrong with her hearing, because she was having trouble really understanding anything.

“Hey, you big idiot,” Minjoo smiles back. She’s crying? She’s crying…? Why? Chaewon didn’t like it when Minjoo cried.

“Why’re you crying?” She asks a bit stupidly, confused at the situation and very worried. It’s difficult, but Chaewon tries to bring up a hand to wipe away the tears only to find blood all over her hands. That’s not good--she didn’t want to get blood on Minjoo’s face.

“Nothing, nothing,” Minjoo reassures her quietly, gently pushing the bloody strands of hair away from her face, “I just need you to stay with me, okay?”

“Huh? I’m right here.”

“Yeah, yeah, you are, huh? You’re here, finally,” Minjoo chuckles a bit. Chaewon’s face is caked with blood and dirt and sweat, but Minjoo’s tears fall on her face and she feels a bit better. It’s so relaxing, so calming, she wants to close her eyes. It’s comforting, Minjoo’s arms, her embrace. She wants to close her eyes.

“Hey, hey, no, keep your eyes open, okay? Can you do that for me?”

“It’s hard, it’s hard,” Chaewon mumbles, trying to force them open only to have them close again. Her eyelids feel heavy and her body is tired and Minjoo’s embrace is so, so relaxing. She likes it here. Why can’t she just enjoy it?

Why can’t she just--just close her eyes?

Yeah, I’m tired. Minjoo’s here. Everyone’s okay. I think I’ll just rest a bit.

The little smile on her face as she slips away is a stark contrast to the scream that rips out of Minjoo’s throat.