#prove you wrong

You were bored to tears.

Blinking sleep away from your eyes, you stifled a yawn as you sat cross-legged in the shadow of the chimney. Leaning against it, you watched the window of the inn where your target was currently getting ready to sleep. 

You never understood Yoongi's concept of having an impromptu exercise the day before any assassin's mission. It didn't make it any better when you didn't know what the exercise would be. So every time he approached you about the next target, you were quite often consumed with mixed feelings of anticipation and dread.

Popping another chocolate and hazelnut ball into your mouth - part of the treats you'd seen resting on your dressing table when you awoke that morning, with a card that read 'Sorry not sorry for what I did. Spar with me today?' - making you laugh at the memory, you waited another hour in the shadows, the sweet treats keeping you up and energized until it was time to move.

The kill had been far too easy and most of the sugar-fuelled energy still hadn't worn off, so instead of reporting to Yoongi immediately, you approached a door you usually wouldn’t when you were in your right mind. Knocking lightly, you bounced on your feet, feeling way too restless. 

"The fuck you want- oh."

Your wide eyes met with his and you cleared your throat. 

"Sorry, uh...you probably don't want to be-"

"Oh, no, it's okay. It's just that Daniel has been bothering me since evening. How was your mission?" He asked, still at the door. You rocked back and forth on your heels as you rubbed the back of your neck, giving him a sheepish smile. 

"Too easy?" He laughed, reading your posture instantly. He knew you like he knew the target he practised archery on. You didn't know if to be insulted or be pleased. 

You nodded, "I still haven't reported yet. I was wondering if you wanted to spar?"

You weren't surprised at his raised brows, given how late into the night it was. "Now?"

When you just shrugged in response, he smirked. 

"I don't see why not."

"So haven't you gotten a new mission yet?" You asked, panting as you tried to keep up with him. You could feel your energy declining rapidly. You would be exhausted soon and then you could go sleep. The thought of a warm bath and silk sheets almost made you moan out loud but you caught yourself. 

Jungkook's sword clanged loudly against yours, the sudden force making your arm shake a little. You frowned at his furrowed brows. 

"Kook?" It was during these moments when you'd both forget you weren't competing against each other for a title of 'The Best Assassin in the Land' or some shit like that. 

"Huh?" He grunted as you easily disarmed him in a few heartbeats. 

You watched him in confusion as you gasped for breath, the last few movements having taken out every bit of your energy. He still hadn't answered. 

"A new mission?" You repeated. 

He shook his head, a hand rubbing the back of his head, before brushing gently at his hair. He only did that when he was nervous. 

"Yeah...yeah- hey, don't you have to report to Yoongi? It's been an hour, he's probably expecting you."

You cursed, instantly forgetting what you were talking about as you shouted over your shoulder, a request for him to keep your stuff back, running out of the training room and to Yoongi's office. 

When you reached his office, you were about to knock when you heard a muffled voice say "It's wiser to send Jungkook for that. Namjoon isn't somebody to be handled by Y/N...not yet, at least. Don't reconsider your choice."

You frowned before knocking loudly, the person going silent as you entered. 

You and Jungkook had trained together ever since you were little and you couldn’t remember the first time you’d tackled him to the floor with just your bare hands. Well, he did too, number of times more than you could care to admit but that wasn’t the point.

Jungkook was a skilled young man with equally good looks. Although you hated to admit that part, there were enough instances that happened along the way that made you want to squirm thinking about it. His raven black hair shone like obsidian everytime the sun hit his locks, and his chocolate brown eyes dazzled every time he wielded a sword. And not to mention how easily he could imitate the look a kicked puppy, his eyes doe-like, that you found yourself falling into his trap multiple times before you'd grown immune to it. But it was the way his toned body filled his tunics, or the way he went shirtless during combat training that you found tough looking away from.

His talent in swordsmanship and archery, in addition to that, made you wonder how he was good at almost everything. Too good.

Of course, you were as good as him, just a tad less. He'd been training ever since the age of five whereas you'd only begun at nine. With two years of age separating you, it didn't take too long for the rivalry to develop. One was always ready to outshine the other. In every field. 

You were skilled in swordplay and archery but more in hand to hand combat. You’d had more wounds from those combats than scars from sword or dagger cuts to display, unlike a certain somebody.

You both were, nevertheless, equally feared and known in the country for your skills and work, although, nobody knew either of your faces. If they did, it was under an alias. 

While you weren’t exactly a freelance assassin and could take on assignments and targets only that your employer cum trainer deemed fit, Jungkook basked - no, bathed in the wealth he received from being more available to the merchants who wanted their dirty work done for them. Of course, he only did it if their trainer, Yoongi, allowed him to take up.

Maybe that’s why he was a freelance - because he was ready to follow rules and guidelines, take calculating steps and plan before moving ahead. While you, on the other hand, constantly got high on the adrenaline each assignment gave you, from the risk of getting caught or being absolutely, fucking ruthless.

“Devil help me if you ever get caught,” Yoongi grumbled at a meeting causing others to snicker, Jungkook being the most obvious out of them all. You shot daggers with your eyes, shutting them up instantly, only Jungkook daring to keep his smirk.

You were angered by that. By the fact that Yoongi didn’t seem to trust you enough or believe that you were more than capable to get out of a problem on your own. That conversation you’d heard two days ago echoed in your head as you took another bite of your food.

“I will have you writhing on the floor, begging for mercy,” You grunted as you pushed the flat side of your blade against his, causing him to take a defensive stance.

He grinned, “How about you actually do it than talk. All I see is you losing miserably.”

You snarled as you went tip first into him, ready to pierce his armour, his sword coming up to counter your attack. That’s when you ducked, catching him off guard before you swept your leg clean on the floor beneath him, the clanking of his armour against the stone floor satisfying your hunger for victory. Most of it, at least. 

Jungkook groaned, a hand coming to his shoulder as you watched him, your chest heaving before turning away.

“Why are you so pissed anyway?” He called as you walked to the bench where water and some snacks lay in wait.

Grabbing a bottle, you twisted the cap so harshly Jungkook gulped when the cap landed on the floor, knowing full well there was still some part of that temper that was burning, ready to consume anything that was unfortunate to tread along its way.

“I don’t know.” Came your clipped answer as you breathed heavily after two gulps of water.

“Bullshit,” You heard the sword whining as it went back to its sheath, his footsteps sounding as he came towards the bench. “You never beat me unless you’re absolutely pissed, and from you wanting to stab me, I can tell something’s bothering you. And it's not because you're running short on chocolates.”

You hated him. You hated his brain. You hated how much of a smart ass he was, observing you every step of the way. He knew you way too well for your own good.

“You imply one more time that I don’t beat you at sword fighting more than you do, I will shove mine down your throat so you don’t talk again.” You crushed the empty bottle in your hands and threw it into the bin. 

Jungkook took a gulp of water, grabbed a banana and took a bite off it before talking, “That’s because you don’t beat me at this more than I do-“ he stopped chewing when you turned around, anger flashing red in your eyes, your hand on the hilt of your sword in emphasis on your threat. “-you’re just a sore loser.”

You turned back around, trying to calm your breathing as you walked towards the door.

“At least you’re the second best!” He called out as you exited the training room.

Taking another bite of the fruit, Jungkook laughed as he heard a faint shattering of a glass vase. You’d be answering to Yoongi about that at dinner tonight.

You threw your bedroom door open and launched yourself onto the bed. Inhaling deeply, you screamed into the pillow, the soft material muffling most of the frustration. 

When you were satisfied, you turned around to face the ceiling. You weren’t pissed at Jungkook, per se, you were pissed at Yoongi.

Although you heard - eavesdropped, kind of - about it from somebody else while they were talking to Yoongi, he had confirmed it right the next day when you were hoping you'd misheard it. Jungkook was given the duty to take down Kim Namjoon, one of the leading rivals of Yoongi, who was also a genuine threat to the kingdom.

You wondered the night following the news if it was that what had made Jungkook feel nervous - either facing Namjoon or telling you about it. You didn't blame him, both the options were daunting.

Kim Namjoon was the most sought-after hitman and leader of the deadliest assassins in the country. You scoffed when you’d first head of that, claiming nobody could beat Yoongi’s assassins, but one look at their victims told you they got their job done thoroughly. Without a trace, they left the scene - and their victims were left mauled and unidentifiable. They followed recklessness while Yoongi followed caution. You snorted at the irony of your choice of leader. 

It was rumoured that Namjoon was the one who was responsible for the death of the Duke a month ago, although it was believed that Namjoon never took on the victims personally. But if he did with the Duke, then perhaps he must have done something that pissed Namjoon off to an extent that was unforgivable. Since then there’s been chaos in the country. Nobody knew whether the rumours were true, nor did Namjoon or his assassins bother to confirm or deny them. Why would they, when the chaos clearly gave them the upper hand?

The King not long after had put up an announcement: anybody who’d bring the dead body of Kim Namjoon would be heavily rewarded. There had been attempts on his life since, but the number decreased over the weeks as the people who tried their luck were found dead at the gates of the castle. For the last week, the world was silent as Namjoon slept soundly every night.

But the fact that Yoongi had more belief in Jungkook than you did something to you. It felt close to betrayal because - and you remember this very clearly - he’d promised to give you a target that was worthwhile. And you were hoping it would be Namjoon. Not some petty fool like the corrupt courtesan you'd taken care of three days ago. You weren't exactly questioning his authority, but rather you were tired of the men of the keep whispering behind your back about how Yoongi only kept you for....other purposes. If you could shove your sword down their throats and squish their eyeballs under your feet, you'd gladly do so. But...they were Yoongi's men. And you were his lone female assassin. He wouldn't want you going rogue.

You didn’t realize how quickly the time flew by until the housekeeper, Rosa, patted your cheek to get you to have a bath as you were “stinking up the entire room”.

Yoongi drummed his fingers on the table as he awaited an answer from you. The rest of the assassins at the table had their eyes on the floor, the tablecloth or the food which was slowly getting colder with every minute that passed with you staying silent.

“Y/N, I’m not going to repeat my question.” His voice was stern as he addressed you regarding the damned vase you’d pushed over on the way to your room.

“I was pissed.” You muttered, eyes on your shaking hands. You fought to keep your temper at bay. 

You could feel half of the tension at the table lifting as the others let out a steady breath. Jungkook’s eyes burned two holes on your forehead.

“Why?” Yoongi asked, eyes still hard on you.

You could hear the underlying question. Why is the assignment I gave Jungkook bothering you? You breathed heavily through your nose. 

“Have I not proven enough of my worth for you to give me better targets?” You blurted, eyes wide and set on your trainer. His jaw ticked and you knew you were testing his patience. But you weren’t letting down. No, not this time.

“Y/N-“

“No, I don’t care that Jungkook is better than me or that he keeps taunting me for being second best-“ you noticed him straightening at that, “-but why am I never sent for anybody higher than a harlot or a fucking courtesan. Am I that useless? Heck, even Jimin gets important targets and he's just been here for a year."

Jimin visibly gulped at this, his eyes focusing elsewhere. 

“Or wait,” your voice was calm, a bitter laugh sounding before you said, “is it because I’m a girl?”

Yoongi’s eyes were brewing anger, his fingers curled tight into a fist. Jungkook cleared his throat, but Yoongi’s hand came up, signalling him to keep his trap shut.

“You are worthy of even the king, must it ever happen to require to kill him, Y/N, but you fail to understand. First, you will not question me, ever again. Second, you will get your assignment when it’s time. Third, this is for your own good.” He came closer, the vein on his forehead popping as he barely contained his temper. “Am I clear?”

You clenched and unclenched your jaw. Your foot bounced and your palms began sweating. You could feel Jungkook’s eyes on you.

Glancing at him briefly, his eyes were soft yet stern as he raised his brows. Don’t you dare.

That ticked you off.

“No.” You breathed.

Yoongi blinked once. He narrowed his eyes. The tension rose again.

“What?”

“I said no, you are not clear. I am done being your lackey and you telling me what to do. Let me be clear, Yoongi, I know what I’m doing. And I’m going to prove that to you.”

You turned to Jungkook, “And you.” You pointed at him accusingly, then at the rest, “And the whole lot of you misogynistic assholes. You think I can’t take a man down. Could you get any more patronizing than that? Watch the castle gates tomorrow morning. Then let me see who has the balls to laugh behind my back and call me a ‘prostitute in disguise’.” You glared at one of the guys, Daniel, him cowering under your look. Hmph, they couldn’t even own up to their own words. Pathetic! 

And with that, you stood up with so much force, the chair you were sitting on toppled over, breaking the silence in the room. Storming out of the place, you went to your quarters to get ready. 

You’d show them who you were. You couldn’t wait to see their faces when they’d see the result. 

You were armed to the teeth, checking yourself once more, making sure you had all that it would require to take down one man and his watchdogs. There was a tendril of nervousness that caught hold you but you pulled away before you prodded it further. 

You had stepped right out your door when you almost crashed into somebody. Looking up, your frown dug deep as you recognized him. 

“What?” You growled, your hand already at the hilt of your dagger, ready to hurt him should he try to restrain you. You’d stop at no length. 

Jungkook, however, only watched you. He was looking into you, really looking, as though he could break down the wall you kept putting up. In his dreams. 

Your patience was teetering over the edge, you ready to yell at him when he spoke. 

“Why are you doing this? What are you trying to prove? That you’re better than me?” 

Sometimes, you really wished you could skewer him on the poking stick and grill him over the fireplace in your room. 

You narrowed your eyes, laughing humourlessly, “Look here, pretty boy, don’t think you’re somebody worth worshipping for your skills. I have no interest in proving you wrong about anything.” You began walking away. 

“Then why are you risking your life? You know Namjoon is a guy not to be reckoned with.” 

His question stopped you in your tracks. Fury ripped through you and it flowed in waves, your hand itching to punch something, anything. 

“Oh, okay,” You turned around, “So when you do it, you’re saving the whole damn world and damsels come running to you squealing how strong you are and you get patted on the shoulder for being so fucking brave, but when I do it, I’m risking my life and it’s too dangerous and men look at me like I’m a piece of meat ready to be pounced on when I'm weaponless. Why? Because I'm a fucking girl. Can your dumb brain sort through what’s clearly so messed up?” 

Jungkook’s eyes widened. He’d never thought you’d been bottling up so much anger and tolerating such actions. Now he felt like he should have punched those men who made snide remarks about you when you left the room. 

“Look, all I’m saying is, don’t go now. It’s snowing, and you wouldn’t be able to see a thing out there! Just stay, you can go when the snow clears.” He wished, no, hoped you would heed him. But after that little storm you brew in the dining room, he doubted you would. 

And he doubted right. 

“As fucking if. You will stay here. If I even get a sniff of you following me, I swear to all Hell, I will not hesitate to kill you.” You snarled, baring your teeth at him before you stormed away and out of the keep. 

“Y/N...” Jungkook’s voice trailed away as you jogged farther into the streets. 

You crouched on the roof, your fingertips stinging against the cold as you waited for the harlot to come out. They were taking way too long - and worse, they hadn’t exactly shut the blinds. So it was pretty much a free show if you wanted to look. You scanned the house again. More like a mansion; you’d taken about fifteen minutes to scour the place, which was ten minutes longer than you usually took. 

Namjoon’s union was in the wealthier part of the town so it was understandable.

It was pretty big for just one person, but you knew it was just like your keep, shared with the other assassins. It was a mansion that had the essential rooms on the ground floor, with a verandah and a set of staircase that led to the front door. Two hours ago, you’d seen the girl walk in through there, just as another exited. Talk about adventurous. It absolutely disgusted you. 

The living room was to the right, a wide window revealing much of the interior decorations and couches that adorned the room. The dining room was to the left where some of the watchdogs - okay, assassins - sat and played a game of cards while two guarded the door. And they hadn’t failed to check out either of the women that left and entered. You had sneered at that, a hand itching to hurl a dagger towards them.

There were two guards on either corner of the house, patrolling the sides where the alleyways between the houses were dark enough for you to be able to dispatch them easily. And when you’d studied the back of the house, you found two other at the back door. There were no maid quarters on either side or the back so you safely assumed the rooms on the second floor belonged to the housekeepers.

The first floor seemed to have at least five rooms, judging by the size, while the second had three. Namjoon’s room was on the first floor, the first door to the right. The roof was definitely not to be considered an entry safe place given how steep it was. Clever of him. 

The storm had calmed considerably, your fingertips at the mercy of your warm breath as you blew into your hands. You crossed your legs and waited for your chance. 

It was well into early dawn, around 3 am perhaps, judging by the quiet road and darkness of the sky - save the full moon that shone furiously - when the two guards moved from their posts at the front door for another two to replace them. So they rotated every two hours, while the ones on the sides and back every three. They wouldn’t expect an assault at the back then, but this was Namjoon’s men you were talking about. You’d seen they were capable of, so their lax bodies didn’t let you believe that they were truly relaxing. 

You didn’t mind. Besides, you were aching for some good action. You’d be honoured to take them on. 

When you looked back again, you saw the woman in Namjoon’s room did not leave and in fact decided to stay, much to your annoyance. If it was going to get violent, then you might have to kill her as well. You hoped silently that it wouldn’t come to that. 

Inhaling deeply, your breath curled into the air as you breathed out, rolling your stiff shoulders and bouncing on your feet before sliding down the roof. Catching hold of the drain pipe, you easily slipped down, the metal stinging your fingers as you did so. You remained against the wall of the house whose rooftop provided you visibility access to the assassin’s keep as you walked towards the alleyway where you’d seen the guard turn the opposite way. 

Making sure both sides were clear, you jogged across the street, your feet silent on the gravel as you made it onto the sidewalk on his side of the house. 

You walked closer to the manor, eyeing the side of the house to see if you could find an open window. You pursed your lips when you realized you would have to get in through a door - either front or back.

Noticing the light catching on the hilt of the sword that remained sheathed to the side of the guard, you walked as quiet as death towards him. 

Anchoring yourself a few inches away, you smirked at the guard’s wide eyes when he turned around, “Surprise.”

Before his hand could reach for his sword, your palm thrust against his nose, causing him to stumble a few steps back before your hands came from the sides and slapped him on his ears. Grabbing onto his face, you swung it down where it met your aiming knee, the loud crunch of his nose breaking quenching a particularly sadistic part of you. 

Aware of how loud the melee was to alert the guards at the back door but not the front, you let his body thud against the gravel before strutting around the corner of the house, two blades by your side, ready to spill some blood.

The two men were hurtling towards you in seconds, a thought spared to praise their speed before you met the first one’s blade with both of yours, them crossing to trap the sword before swinging your arms so wide that it sent the sword flying onto the grass, disarming him. But it didn’t faze him. A fist came swinging towards the side of your head, your hand coming up to block it, before sliding down your hand so swiftly that he didn’t realize his wrist was slashed until you kicked him square on the chest, knocking him out. 

The other had crept up behind you, a rogue arm agaisnt your throat before you could duck out of the way. His bicep crushed your throat mercilessly, but you turned the daggers in your hands, before sending them behind you, impaling the sides of the guard. His arm loosened and you fought the urge to cough as you twirled around and landed a punch that surely killed him. 

Almost wheezing, you coughed into your elbow before you pulled yourself onto the landing of the back verandah and landed quietly on your toes. You just hoped the guard on the other side hadn’t heard any of it.

Catching your breath wasn’t too hard. With a hand brushing over the hilt of your sword that calmed your nerves, you walked through the back door hat hadn’t been locked. 

Foolish. Just utterly, disbelievingly foolish.

“Some assassins you are,” You scoffed, closing the door behind you.

Jungkook paced in his room, the crackling fire no longer burning, bits of ember floating through the chimney as he rubbed his hands together. He couldn’t remain still. 

Partly because of the cold and partly, well, because you’d just gone out on a death mission. He didn’t know what kind of power had possessed you, and although, yes, he did find you hot during the training session earlier for some apparent reason, he couldn’t shake off the uneasiness he had felt since the moment you stormed out of the training room. 

He’d never realized all of this had bothered you so much. If he did...if he did, he actually didn’t know what he would have done. 

Jungkook was standing next to his window when he heard two voices outside, right under the window. One of them was laughing as he spoke, “I don’t know what she thinks of herself, we’re probably going to find her body at the gates tomorrow.”

“Not probably, for sure.” And they snickered again. 

That’s it. He would take no more. 

Striding to his closet, he ripped out a coat from its hanger and was out of his room before he had his coat on. Rubbing his shoulders and knuckles, he trudged towards the front door. 

Jungkook was going to have a nice, long chat with those boys outside. 

You easily slipped through the lobby, the men in the dining room too busy smoking a cigar to see a black-clothed being passing by. You tiptoed up the stairs, remembering where the leader’s room was. You kept reminding yourself to make it as quiet as possible so the lady beside him wouldn’t wake up. 

You treaded slowly and quietly, knowing you had enough time till dawn to prove your point to the men in your keep. 

But you froze when you noticed a guard patrolling the hallway where Namjoon’s room was. You were still on the landing, an extra set of staircase left to cover before you could reach the guard. 

When you reached his door, you remembered to control your breathing, before rubbing your legs together to make sure you had your daggers there, strapped to your thighs, the sheath by your waist housing your beloved sword that never let you down. 

You swore silently. How had you not noticed the man? And this guard wasn’t as lean built as the rest. He was bulky and his muscles looked ready to rip through his shirt material. You rubben a hand over your face. What would you do about him?

You felt a sudden calm filling your nerves when you realized what you could do. 

You were right, the threat made to one of the guards to call the burly assassin down worked. 

You stood pinned against the wall as you awaited his arrival, the thudding footsteps softer than how you’d imagined it would be, forcing yourself to strain to hear. 

When you were certain he was just two steps farther from turned to the dining room, you launched yourself, the sword singing in the dead silence of the room as you swung it, the edge cutting deep into the chest of the unsuspecting assassin, whose eyes only widened as he realized what had happened.

When you reached the assasin’s door, the one you’d not been assigned to kill, you remembered to control your breathing, before rubbing your legs together to make sure you had your daggers there, strapped to your thighs, the sheath by your waist housing your beloved sword that never let you down.

But for tonight, a dagger would do. A clean slit across the throat would do. He would have a slower death than a stab to the heart. Than the rest of his men.

Turning the knob as slowly as you could, you opened the door, praying it wouldn’t creak. Although you’d planned for a masterful and extra entry, this would do. The element of a surprise toned down a little. 

You glided expertly over the carpeted floor - big mistake on his side - and reached the bed. Only a single body could be seen under the sheets. Hopefully, that meant that the girl was in the bathroom. 

You clenched your jaw before grabbing the end of the quilt and with a quick flick of your wrist, you had the blanket off the bed, the bloodied dagger poised to cut his throat- 

Wait. 

You found yourself pointing the dagger at a bunch of pillows. Your heart stopped.

“Looking for someone?” A whiff of cologne wafted to your nose before you felt his breath on the back of your neck, but the next thing you saw was blackness as the hilt of his sword met with your head. 

You groaned as you felt a heavy pounding in your head, as though someone was hitting you with a sledgehammer. It might as well be happening. 

Your eyes were slow to adjust to the light, and you slowly realized what had happened. 

You had come to kill Kim Namjoon, one of the most wanted criminals of the kingdom, who was an expert at his job. You knew that because you’d seen what he was capable of. Most of his guards were easy to dispatch save for the final kill, that was him. Now you were in his bedroom, bound to a chair and completely vulnerable. To be alive after being caught was a miracle in itself. 

“Well, would you look at that.” You heard a voice croon from somewhere behind you, your ears ringing from the force of the blow he’d given. You felt blood trickle down the side of your head.  

“And here I thought, Jungkook was a male,” Namjoon chuckled, his dagger glinting against the moonlight that shone through the window. That’s when you noticed the rooftop of the opposite house, the one where you’d been spying from. He could see you directly from his room. 

So much for being discreet. 

“I’m-” You coughed, your throat dry. How long had it been since you were knocked out? Judging from the darkness and quietness outside, it seemed like 4 am at the most. 

“I’m not Jungkook.” You finished your sentence. 

“Oh?” Namjoon leaned forward, his eyes gleaming with amusement. He smiled, the smile not reaching his eyes. 

“The who are you, girl? Some amateur trying to earn recognition? Desperate for attention, is that it?” 

Your pride hurt as the words rolled off his tongue. If you hadn’t been so indiscreet about your hiding spot, he’d have been dead. You had sworn an oath to the keep and to Yoongi that under no circumstances were you to reveal your name and neither your connection to him or any other assassin. 

“Wait a minute - you’re that girl of his. What’s his name, ah, I forgot.” He laughed, the dagger glinting at you again as he paced in front of you. You remained mum, but the look in your eyes perhaps gave you away. 

“Aha, that ruthless little assassin who doesn’t know how to follow rules...but has got quite the skills, considering how you took one of my best men out.” He brought his dagger to your cheek, the tip biting into your skin. You clenched your jaw at the stinging sensation. 

“You call him one of your best? I think we both have different definitions of that word.”

He chuckled, “Got quite a mouth. You’re the girl...” He trailed, the dagger digging further.

“...who begs to be noticed. Jungkook must be your companion. Is he here tonight?” You resisted the urge to shake your head. 

“No? Okay, then, I guess this will be a long night for the both of us.” He smiled cunningly, and then before you could react, he slit a long cut down your cheek so swiftly you screamed only when the pain registered a moment later. You felt blood drop onto your arm that was tied to the chair, your feet a gone case as well, as they sat with one ankle over the other underneath you. 

Your heart hammered in your chest as you saw him grab his sword. You couldn't go down like this. No, you wouldn't let your impertinence to Jungkook and disrespect for your occupation cost you your life. 

Jungkook hissed as he ran hot water over his knuckles, the gashes nothing compared to what he’d received so many times before. But then the entire time, his thoughts were on you. On your safety. He glanced at the clock. 

If you didn’t return by 9 am, he’d look for you. He just didn’t want to go too early and piss you off if you were really getting the work done. He hoped you’d be alive for him to find. 

You bit a shriek as his sword gashed your thigh, blood spilling quickly onto the carpet. It was carefully aimed, you realized, noticing the shallowness of the wound. You had to blink a few times for the stars in your vision to go away. Yoongi had trained you better than this.

“Tell me, who sent you?” He probably knew that already if he knew Jungkook’s name. But how did he? Was there somebody on the inside? A mole? 

Perhaps he didn’t. Maybe all he knew was that Jungkook was from Yoongi’s guild. Maybe...maybe that night when you’d overheard that man telling Yoongi not to reconsider his choice to send Jungkook was for another reason. Not because you were incompetent, but because it would be easy to kill another threat to Namjoon’s life.

When you didn’t respond, you felt a blow to your jaw, and then to your stomach, making you cough out blood as the breath knocked out of your lungs. 

“Speak!” His hand pressed on your thigh, right where he’d gashed it open, making you scream in agony. He smiled all the while, his dark eyes glinting with nothing but never ending darkness. You wished you hadn’t stepped out of the safety of your keep. 

But as he removed his hand from your thigh, you remembered. 

“I’ll tell you.” You breathed, your wrist twisting as discreetly as possible where it remained tied behind your back. 

You breathed again, your blood almost choking you, “I’ll tell you,” you said again, still eyeing him as you flicked your wrist. 

Namjoon only watched you through narrow eyes, suspicion clear in them as he knelt on the floor in your front of you.

Big mistake. 

“But you have to let me go,” You whispered, the blood rolling down your chin as the security of the blade that slid to your palm calmed you. 

Namjoon laughed, and you began slicing into the rope, cutting it whenever you or he made a sound. 

“Okay, darling, I will. As long as you tell me your name and your employer's.” You could see right through the lie. But you pretended not to. 

“My name’s Y/N, and I work for Min Yoongi. Jungkook is my companion but he isn’t here to kill you-” You felt the blade snap the last of the rope, your thigh burning as you tensed it, readying yourself. 

Namjoon’s brows knit together. 

You smirked, teeth shining red with your blood.

"I am," And with all the strength you could muster, you raised your tied legs to your abdomen and kicked him square on the chest, his head hitting the wall as he fell over, the dagger in his hand flying across the room.

Quickly bringing your hand to the front, you cut as fast as you could through the rope that had your ankles tied together, the wound on your head thrumming for you to work faster, and your thigh burning as you stood up. You were losing a lot of blood, you could tell from the way you were instantly lightheaded. 

You noticed your weapons on the desk across his room and made a run for it. But Namjoon was too close and grabbed onto your ankle, causing you to fall face first to the floor, but you braced yourself, palms coming out to catch your fall. He scrambled on the floor and began climbing over your body, your thigh rendering you almost helpless. Almost.

You waited for a second longer before turned around and raised your knee to his crotch, causing Namjoon to curl away, groaning, your leg fighting out of his grip before kicking him on his face, a sickening crack sounding as you broke his nose. 

“You bitch!” He snarled as he grabbed onto his face.

Dragging yourself from under him, you stood up and gathered all the strength you could. 

Your daggers could be replaced, but you couldn’t leave your sword behind. And neither could you leave him. 

Spitting out the blood from your mouth, you felt your anger flare inside you. Anger directed not just at him and the men at the keep, but at yourself. Because you didn’t take better precautions. Because you were impatient.

You stalked over to Namjoon where he remained crouched over. 

“Hey,” You poked at his shoulder with the tip of your sword. He rolled over.

You were angry at yourself for being so fucking ruthless. More than usual.

“That was very bold of you to think I’d let you live after learning my name.” And you brought your sword down on him, slashing his stomach open. 

He screamed. The feral shriek had the windows shaking. You felt angry at yourself for leaving Jungkook like that. 

The housemaids ushered to the room and did nothing but watch as you finished Namjoon off right there, his head cut off clean as you brought down your sword again. Blood splattered all around, your face nothing but a canvas of your own and your victim’s blood. 

Carrying his head by the long locks of his hair, you strode to the door, the housemaids gasping as they made way for you. They didn't scream for help but rather watched you in silent understanding. Like they were thanking you. Thanking you for ending that tyrant’s life.

You felt your vision lightening, stars getting more and more clear with every step you took. 

As you left the house, you noticed the rest of the assassins knocked out cold, along with the ones at the front door. 

You raised the head to your face, it still contorted into a silent scream. 

“Guess somebody had a temper, huh?” Your voice was slurred as you spoke.

The cloth was tight enough to stop the bleeding for a while, but not enough. Your head was bleeding as well, and you occassionally spit out blood and saliva on the side of the street. The wound on your cheek had begun to scab, but you knew it would leave a new scar. 

The cold bit at your cheek and thigh, a dull ache on your other cheek from the punch following soon after. You moved your jaw just to check if it was broken. Thankfully it wasn’t. 

It was early dawn by the time you’d reached the door of your keep. And just as you were about to knock, Jungkook opened the door, his eyes wide and alarmed at the sight of you. You didn’t even want to know what state you were in. Dried blood all over your face, hands and legs, wounds throbbing from everywhere and nowhere all at once.

“Oh my God, Y/N!” 

“Hey...” You breathed, almost falling into his arms as you walked through the door. And you would have if it wasn’t for Yoongi standing right there. 

“So, did you prove yourself?” His eyes were cold as he eyed you from head to toe. 

You smirked with what little energy you had. 

“You can always look out your window at the gates of the castle like I promised. It’s a trophy to behold, after all, he’s finally taken care of. There’s also somebody who works for him among us so you might want to look into that.” 

He walked towards you, his face set hard. You stood your ground, ready for the reprimanding blow. 

Yoongi raised a hand, and you remained there, unflinching, to his fair surprise. He smirked, “You’ve learnt a lot in one night. I wonder when you’ll learn to sleep with it.” His hand went down. 

He was right, partially. The physical pain you’d gone through made you so numb you wondered if you no longer had any feeling left in your nerves. But he was wrong about losing sleep because of the rampage you’d gone out on. 

You glanced at Jungkook with a small smile. Now that you knew his life was no longer in danger, you could sleep way more soundly than you did before. For a moment, you wondered why that was.

Jungkook had rushed to your aid instantly. He had you sitting on his bed, not yours, claiming his room was far warmer than yours and closer. 

All you did was snort as he made you sit on the mattress. You watched him run about, grabbing bandages, disinfectants and plasters. 

His eyes glistened as he worked on your cheek, the stinging put off with a gentle blow of air from Jungkook after every dab of the disinfectant. His jaw ticked, clenching and unclenching as he worked on your head. His fingers trembled ever so slightly as he worked on your thigh. Thankfully the gash wasn’t too deep to warrant stitches. 

But you noticed the change in his demeanour. And you made a sick attempt at improving it. 

“You know, Jungkook, now with this kill, I’m going to be the talk of the town for a while.” When he didn’t respond to you, and kept his head down and focused on your thigh, you went on, assuming he didn’t understand what you meant. 

“So, like, what are your thoughts on being second best now, huh?” You chuckled softly as you noticed his shoulders tremble. But when it went on, you frowned, “Kook, it’s not that funny- wait,” You grabbed his shoulders. 

You struggled to bring him up, his sagging body being too heavy for you. But you managed to pull his face up, the tears on his cheeks catching you off guard. 

“Why are you crying!?” You asked incredulously, you eyes searching his for answers.

But rather than a reply, he threw his strong arms around you, pulling you close to him, his chest firm against your cheek. You heard his heart beat rapidly, mirroring yours. But yours sped with embarrassment.

“Jung-”

“I thought I lost you.” He mumbled into your hair before kissing it. You were so taken aback your mouth sealed shut. He was showing you affection. Something you weren’t exactly accustomed to. But...

“Fuck, Y/N, do you know how scared I was?”  He pulled back, his puffed face coming into view, his nose running as his lips trembled. There was anger lacing his voice, but relief overlapped it.

Shit. You never realized how much he worried about you. 

“I...Jungkook, I didn’t- I’m sorry, I was stupid,” Your eyes darted to the floor, while your cheeks flushed with colour and a fresh bruise. 

“You were even more stupid than you usually are!” 

“Hey!”

But he hugged you again instead, his nose nestling into the crook of your neck, silently breathing you in. His hand remained strong on your back, and you couldn’t handle the way it made you feel. So you said-

“You look super ugly when you cry, by the way.” 

He laughed softly, his breath hitting your neck, making the hair on your arms stand. 

“Well, you look even more ugly when you’re all beaten up.” He smiled through his tears, a hand caressing the cut on your cheek. 

You rolled your eyes, “Oh, Jungkook, thank you for your sympathy, I appreciate it.” 

When he didn’t respond, you asked quietly, a hand coming to hold his. 

“Are you upset with me?” 

He crossed your fingers with his, holding onto your hand so tight as though you were going to disappear any moment. 

“Very. And I’m going to be clear about that the next time we train.” 

You feigned a hurt look, earning a chuckle from him, the sound relaxing your bones, warmth radiating through you.

When he embraced you again, you realized he was the one who was always there for you. You had proved a point today, but in some way, he had proved one, too. 

"You know I love you right?" He mumbled into your hair.

You blinked.