#jun tdg

"Punching it out really does work for you," Emilia teased with a playful smile as her gaze flickered over his glistening torso. 

"Usually. But the talking also helped," Jun admitted with a slight but grateful nod. 

The pair stood in a comfortable silence. The heaviness that once filled Jun's gaze was lighter now. She was grateful for that. There was a killer on the loose, and while she didn't suspect Jun, she also didn't need to worry about him pummeling Steve, even if he did deserve it. 

A wave of warmth washed over her. How could so much have gone wrong? 

Her career might be over, thanks to the creative desert she was lost in, better known as writer's block. As Emilia's attention drifted to the black punching bag hanging from the ceiling. The distant rumble of thunder echoed in the space. The dark clouds mirrored the turmoil brewing within her. The color was dark and empty, like the creative drought in her mind. She stepped closer, her thoughts shifting to Jun's unyielding assault on the bag that seemed to bring him relief. 

And then there was Nick. 

Her best friend. 

The one person she trusted above all else. 

Taken. 

And for what? Money? 

Her stomach turned as everything flooded back. She had tried to be stoic about it, not for herself, but what else could she do? There was a murderer among the guests, and tensions were running high. Someone had to keep it all together and try to solve the murder if they hoped to make it through the weekend. 

Her fist lightly touched the bag. Not a punch. Just an acknowledgment that it was there.

"Wanna give it a try?" He questioned softly, bringing her back to the present. 

"We should get back," she shook her head, trying to refocus herself on the task at hand. "Farah and Dante will be looking for us."

"You can take a moment—" Jun began as he moved closer, his hand resting on the side of the bag. "—if you need it. You don't have to always hold it together. It's okay to let go. The only reason anyone is holding it together right now is because of you, but it's okay to let go."

The corner of her lips pulled up slightly. She knew she didn't have the best poker face, but she had hoped she was doing a better job than that. "Is it that obvious?"

"No, but it's my job to read people, to detect motives and threats before something happens."

She nodded thoughtfully, eying the bag once more. "Got any tips?"

"Keep your elbows loose and throw your weight behind your fist." 

"Right. Nothing to it."

Jun stifled a chuckle beside her as she shifted her position back and forth, trying to get it right.

After a minute of adjusting, she threw her arm forward, making contact with the bag that barely shifted under her touch. "You make it look so easy! Not fair!"

"You just need to work on your positioning." Jun shifted behind her. "May I?"

Emilia nodded as Jun lifted her arms with a tenderness she didn't expect. He bent her elbow just right, keeping it up. His hand traveled down her forearm, closing around her fists, adjusting her finger and thumb position. 

"Jun," his name slipped softly from her lips at the sight of his raw, reddened knuckles. Her free hand brushed gently over them. "We should take care of that."

"It's nothing." He recoiled back, letting go of her. "I've had worse."

"Just because you've had worse doesn't mean you should!"

"I'm okay, I promise. But, before we get started—" He walked toward the end of the gym, returning with a pair of red, padded gloves. 

"Really?" Emilia's brow raised in question. 

"Just because I chose to be reckless and not use the proper protection doesn't mean you should?"

"I can handle getting my hands a little dirty," she tried to protest, but he already lifted her hand in his, slipping the gloves over her hands one at a time.

Jun stood back, his arms folded across his chest. "Keep your body loose... and it helps to think about something you want to hit."

She lifted her arms as Jun had shown her moments earlier, staring down the punching bag. Inhaling slowly, she tried to imagine the physical manifestation of writer's block. Her arm darted out once more, connecting with the bag. Another punch followed, releasing the frustration that had been building inside her from not being able to write. 

Her muscles tensed at a thought she had been trying to avoid.

Maybe if she hadn't been so preoccupied with figuring out what came next in her manuscript, her attention wouldn't have been split. 

She punched the bag again, the storm outside roaring around them. If she hadn't been so preoccupied with her writer's block, maybe she would have watched the other guests more closely.

Her brows knitted together as she focused on the bag.

Nick had only ever asked for one thing. 

Her fist made contact again, the bag shifting further.

Keep an eye on his so-called "friends".

She let out an infuriated grunt as she punched through the pain. Harder and faster. 

Nick. 

Her oldest friend.

Her best friend.

The closest thing she ever had to a sibling.

Her gloved fists beat against the bag with every bit of force she had. It moved a little with each hit. Nothing compared to Jun's, but it didn't matter. She continued, forgetting herself, forgetting Jun. Her anger and frustration raked through her body. Her eyes swelled with the tears she had been holding back since that moment.

She shook her head, trying to forget the broken vision of his bloodied body on the ground. Her vision blurred as she continued punching the bag. "He didn't deserve this." She mumbled, her body aching, but she continued. "How could you take him from me?" 

Strands of hair stuck to her wet cheeks, further obscuring her vision, but she hardly noticed as she continued. 

"How could you leave me like this?"

She sobbed as her punches slowed. Her shoulders slumped as she let her body feel the weight of the punches she had thrown. 

Jun moved carefully behind her, resting his hand on her shoulder. 

The unexpected touch pulled her back; she spun into him, her fists ready to attack. 

"It's just me," he said softly.

She fought against his comforting embrace, beating his chest, but he didn't flinch; he took her punches, guiding her closer.

"It's okay," he reassured her. 

"It's not fair," she sobbed, letting go of everything she had been holding in. She rested her head against the warmth of his shoulder as he brought her into his arms. 

"I know."

The pitter-patter of the rain against the windows brought a soothing comfort, blending with Jun’s steady presence, allowing her thoughts to quiet.

"I'm sorry," she sniffled, trying to recompose herself. "I came here to help you, and now I'm the mess." She took a step back, her gloved hands brushing over her cheeks, trying to wipe away the tears and hair stuck to them.

 "I've seen worse." His lip curved up ever so slightly. "Let me." He slowly lifted his hand toward her face, waiting for her nod of permission. The back of his hand trailed carefully across her cheeks, drying her tears. Despite the calluses on his knuckles, his touch was softer than she anticipated, catching her off guard. His fingers grazed the area, slowly gathering the wet strands of hair and tucking them behind her ear. He lingered for a moment, his touch gentle and reassuring.

"We are going to get through this," he insisted, his confidence giving her strength. 

Emilia nodded, lifting her hands to him. 

He carefully took one glove off and then the other. His hand hovered over hers a moment longer than needed, his thumb grazing her knuckles before retreating. "I won't let anything happen to you." 

She wanted to believe him, but her thoughts went to Nick. Jun couldn't protect him, but neither could she. No one could. No one knew. He was alone. At least they had that—they weren't alone. They had each other, Farah and Dante too. She knew not to trust anyone... but still, she trusted him, for better or worse.

"I know." She met his gaze; his dark eyes held an openness she hadn't seen before and one she welcomed. "Thank you, Jun."

"It's my job," he insisted, though they both knew it was more than that.

A/N: This is part of my Stolen Moments: brushing hair away series. This not what I indented to write. I just planned to make it a more flirty scene between Jun and Emilia and him brushing her hair back after her punching the bag like in canon, but I ended up ditching my 200 word outline 5 words in and wrote this which is more emotional but I think it's far more true to the character. MC never had any time to grieve the loss of Nick, and I feel this was kind of a breakthrough for her.

Screenshots

Practicing characters with Jun (Chapter 1)

Jun asking if MC is single

Punching Bag: Writer's Block