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human-psyche · 1 year

Text

BLACK.

CHAPTER 1

Heavy rain pelts the landscape of Seoul in a slow, torrential drizzle, rivulets of water pouring like glass beads from the night skies that envelop everything in a blanket of sombreness. The continuous sound of the rain covers the rest of the noise coming from the city, farther and farther away as Yoongi runs.

A firing gunshot dissipates the monochrome silence, then another, each aimed in his direction; both miss their target but his pursuers don't stop, rounds of bullets hitting the wall of the train station he ducks behind to catch his breath.

Min Yoongi is his birth name. 09 is his number. August D is a code.

He was and is known by many names of which the combination above describes who he is shortly. In the world he lives in, one's value is measured in kill counts: the greater the amount, the higher and richer one becomes. But becoming top of the game is the suicidal glory of entering an arena where other fighters have free reign to strike, money are just a currency of exchange to a reputation like his一 a quality deathdealer. There is a system this hierarcy is built upon, its signature being that of coins with each individual's symbol engraved on it, a metaphor derived from greek mythology where a person requires coins to be granted passage over the river of Hades's underworld or risk wandering the shores for one hundred years untill they are allowed to cross.

Those without a coin of their own are low ranked members of the organization, they are easy to replace and disposable. Those who acquire a silver coin represent the ones who are diplomatic and agile, they may have ranked fast but lack solid force. Those who obtain a gold coin are the ones branded as superior specimens of their occupation, suitable for any job, any contract, in any circumstances, and most sought after and expensive above their versatility. Then, there are the ones who possess a black coin, the rarest kind. They are the ones who make the rules and enforce them, the ones who lead.

EX-DEUS is an organization that does not exist to the public for all intents and purposes. Named after the latin phrase "ex deus mortis" which means "from the god of death", its profit results from a simple yet obscure program: contract killing. Founded by Kim Manseok and his second wife, Natasha, the company has an extended base in the USA, South Korea, China and Russia, although its web of operation has spread throughout several countries on the globe. Orphan children are picked off the streets whether willingly or forcibly, while some perhaps even kidnapped from their families without recollection of it, and subjected to a training regiment that steps past the boundaries of human ethics, shaped into the perfect weapons. Emotions are suppressed and nullified, pain becomes numbness and desirable results are reached around the ages sixteen - eighteen on average, a time at which one is permitted to start taking on jobs. Few can form attachments...

Night rain is an irony and an illusion to Yoongi, it reminds him of days he can't erase or unseen.

It reminds him who he truely is, what he does, and what he might've lost before even having it.

He inhales sharply and moves, shooting one of his assailants. When he finally leaves his hiding spot and runs for cover again, bullets fly and hit the roof of the station too, sparks from a short-circuit raining like a second gale of fire drops: the male turns at the last moment as a man shoots. Yoongi's faster, only getting a scrape to his arm while the other guy collapses to the floor, a second attacker's gun proving to be out of bullets. He tosses it away and chases after him madly, just as the train barells through the station at blinding speed. The younger has no choice but to engage him in a fight, a knife cutting the air close enough to slash his throat except Yoongi's reflexes aid him in overpowering the man and stabbing his own knife into the side of his neck. Not without a lesser injury though, because he's tired, bleeding and on the run for days.

He pants out puffs of congealed air, the roar of the trepidation that shakes the train tracks drowning out his fatigue.

There is only one person left that he can count on.

. . .

THREE YEARS AGO ...

The corridor of the tightly secured company is one he'd gone through a hundred times. A hundred times it was always like this: grey walls and an ominous weight of guilt that they thought they could ignore forever. But that wasn't his priority right now.

Yoongi feels it as he halts at the end of the hallway, the male seated on the armchair at the entrance for waiting bearing dissimilar levels of emotion written over his countenance.

He's Jimin, a silver coin owner he'd seen around Y/n quite often, who's mostly unreadable, would it not be for a trace of something akin to anger.

His fingers tighten on the velvet box inside the pocket of his coat.

A person who's usually with them when waiting for details on a new contract is missing.

"Where's Y/n?"

"She's gone."

Jimin's blunt reply sends a surge of frightening dread through his gut, a foreign feeling. For a second there he forgets that sentence could have one other meaning, his mind going blank. Their occupation's not to be trifled with, death is a perpetual friend but also their fiercest foe.

"What the fuck do you mean she's gone?"

"Her room's empty, she's gone." the younger continues, clarifying the misunderstanding.

It's only then that he directs his attention to Kim Manseok's office, where Taehyung has a screaming match with his father.

"...something was wrong with her the night she came back from her last contract! She would never leave like this!"

"It isn't your business to demand of me to disclose confidential information!"

"It is, she isn't just some random member of the organization! I consider her more of a sister than my step-sister is! You should have told me! Where is she?!"

"Like I said, I can't tell you, Taehyung."

"If you have anything to do with this, or your wife does, I'm done with you. Did you get rid of her to teach me a lesson, huh? Are you going to do the same with Yoongi? Why? Because I'm not like Namjoon? Because I'm not the obedient, responsible son you want? Did you?! Answer me, father!"

"Kim Taehyung, do not talk to me like that! This is not about you!"

"Then tell me why she's not here!"

"Y/n requested that I help her disappear. She retired and wishes for none of you to find her."

The EX-DEUS's chairman's verdict stuns all of them, having not expected that.

Slamming the door on his way out, Taehyung joins them on the hallway, a frown crinkling at his features. He sees Yoongi and since he and Y/n work together as partners, he vows, "I'll find her. I'll find her even if I have to search the entire country. I'll tell you once I get a lead."

Jimin sits up, that undeciphered anger in his orbs more evident. He passes by Yoongi without even sparing him a glance. He knows what is going on with Y/n, why she left, but he keeps it to himself.

Yoongi's hand tightens around the box in his pocket, nearly crushing it.

. . .

An ordinary, plain life in the Gwangjin district. A small apartment. An elementary P.E teacher's job. A new identity, a fake name. A new look. Y/n tries to go to sleep every night and not remember who she really is, where she comes from. It isn't difficult to pretend, living peacefully day to day and not linger and get stuck in the past, dreaming of people she used to share pain with, or the ones who caused her pain. The ones whom saw her as death's angel before taking their dying breath, the ones that still haunt her nightmares sometimes. Faces, faces she associates with familiarity, and faces that have little to no shape.

Here, she isn't L/n Y/n. She's just Y/n with a false surname.

The only fault in her existence is the silver coin she still has tucked somewhere into the drawer of her nightstand.

Rain outside the windows disrupts her thoughts, her bare feet tapping the floors as she walks to the kitchen to pour herself a glass of juice. It's a friday night, she can relax from another day at the school she teaches at, and enjoy the free time of weekend. In the modest, rented apartment, loneliness feels like the luxurious comfort she was not able to afford prior to being this fake person she is.

However, as if the universe is plotting against her, a sudden knock on the front door causes the girl to put her glass down and wonder who might be so late at night. She surely had no visitors to look forward to.

Brows knit, Y/n goes to unlatch the door一 and nearly screams when she sees him, his arm leaning on the doorframe, dark eyes piercing through her own.

"...Yoongi?" she breathes out, both in shock and frustration.

The reason her heart drops to her stomach has a double edged root. One, he's soaked to the bone, his cheeks are bruised and exhaustion hangs to his hazed lids. Two, he's right here, in front of her, whilst she worked so hard to block him out of her mind.

"You're in love with him." Jimin declares one fine night as he puts his elbows on the railing, glimpsing the city below with her.

Y/n laughs, hysterically. It doesn't sound genuine though. "Who? Yoongi?"

"Don't lie."

"What do you want me to tell you? That I'm flawed?"

"You're different, you don't need to be fixed. You managed to feel this even if it's not in our nature. Love."

"What's the point? It's Yoongi. The day he feels something for someone, the world will fall apart. He's among the best EX-DEUS has ever had. Unlike me, there's no error in his code. He fucks, he doesn't love."

"Taehyung said you guys never had sex."

"That's because to him, I'm a friend, a sidekick, a partner, whatever. Even the girls Taehyung brings in so you guys can have fun with get more attention from him."

"Unrequited love." he leans his head back, glancing to her afterwards. "How are you coping with that?"

"I undressed in front of him one time when we were at a hotel during an assignment and he didn't even blink. He was that unfazed."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing."

They stay silent following her answer, the wind blowing through their hair over the sounds of city traffic. Then Y/n speaks again.

"Do you know what else I started feeling lately?"

Jimin grunts, urging her to go on.

"Guilt."

"What the hell are you doing here? How did you find me?" she scowls as she regains her composure, refusing to let herself crumble at the sight of him.

Yoongi's lips twist, the ghost of a smirk gracing his rugged appearance. "Hello to you too, Y/n. You haven't changed, you're as pretty as I remember you and twice as bitchy."

She glares, attempting to hit the door shut but failing due to him sliding his foot between it and the wall.

He pries it open and gets inside, pushing past her without permission.

"If you bleed on my floor I'll shoot you myself. Get out. I don't want to see your face." the female trails behind him, in the livingroom.

"Easy." he taunts, unknotting his tie and throwing his soaked suit jacket on the back of the couch; he removes one leather glove using his teeth, and the other with his free hand. His dress shirt is stained red underneath. "You owe me a favour, Y/n. I'm here to get even."

"Fuck you, fuck your favour. I'm not doing this anymore, I have a life here, get out of it, you son of a一"

Her words cease when he unbuttons and peels his shirt off, his wet torso from the rain exposing the ugly knife cut on his side and the scratch of a bullet to his left arm. Traitorous worry clenches her chest.

"I saved your pretty little ass, you have to help me. I know you never go back on your word."

"Stop calling me pretty, or anything that concerns me." she fumes, walking over to him and shoving him down to sit on the couch. "Don't touch my things." she warns as she goes to the bathroom, retrieving the first aid kit.

Returning to the livingroom, Yoongi has one of her framed pictures of Jungkook in his grasp, likely having picked it from the decorative table next to the couch.

"Your boyfriend?"

"It's none of your business." Y/n presses a little purposefully on his wound with the cloth she's using to clean it.

If he wants to hiss at the sting, he doesn't nor shows it. "You changed your style. It looks good on you."

She would say he looks unfairly handsome too but ofcourse she can't. Resorting to not giving him a reaction, she busies herself with his injuries, disinfecting and treating them.

A palpable tension resides between the two of them, with him watching her and the young woman avoiding his gaze. She makes quick work of her task, soon after bandaging his arm. Stitching the one on his waist is trickier, because she has to concentrate despite the feel of Yoongi's lithe, toned muscles under her fingertips, his persistent orbs tracing every slope and curve of her face.

"Why did you leave?"

The predictable question earns a pause from her, in which she finishes dressing his second wound, adding medical tape onto the gauze. "I couldn't handle the guilt anymore."

He doesn't quite believe her, someone as competitive as Y/n wouldn't just disappear like that.

Yoongi has lived with the impression that she's not fond of him because they grew up fighting for the best rank and he ultimately outmatched her.

The truth is, she left for three particular reasons. The first, yes she did end up feeling the oppressing guilt of their profession. The second, she was in love with him and she wanted to get away from the man who wouldn't reciprocate her feelings一 an affliction she never expected would plague and chase someone like her, specially trained to eliminate and demolish such sentiments. Nobody knew about the third reason other than herself and Jimin, and she certainly wouldn't confess it to him. That was the night her harmless, ambitious annoyance torwards Yoongi turned to hate.

Catching her by surprise, he grabs her arms as she's about to pull back, dragging her closer instead. The only distance left to separate them is a mere centimeter, forcing her to look him in the eyes.

"Is there more, isn't it?"

She forgot how compelling his presence can be, a sliver of nervousness inflicting her otherwise confident traits. She has to swallow, stabilizing her emotions in order to lie effectively. "No. And even if there was, I wouldn't tell you."

She pushes herself off him and snatches the framed photo he dropped on the couch, putting it to its rightful place.

"Take off the rest of your clothes."

Yoongi regards her blankly. He cocks an eyebrow, as if her demand has another implication.

They're back to their old teasing, bantering, arguing routine.

"You're freezing cold and all wet from the rain. Just do it." she rolls her eyes. "I'll get you a towel to dry up and clothes to change."

"From your boyfriend?"

"Yes, from my boyfriend. Do you have a problem with that?"

"This Jungkook guy, does he know you don't love him?"

"And how do you know I don't?" she yells back.

"Because you're a heartless bitch who used to kill people."

Y/n comes from the bedroom holding the promised towel, a shirt, a pair of jeans and underwear, throwing them at his face with a vengeance. "Here's the clothes, asshole."

Later, after she treats the bruises on his cheekbones and lip too, they eat at the table of her kitchen, her mind running through her choices; she questions herself why she gave in and helped him. She swore to herself she didn't want to see him again, but her heart wouldn't allow her to just turn her back on him, and besides, she owed him that favour. She isn't the kind of person to break promises or not repay something good done to her.

"I asked you how you found me."

"Taehyung sent people to search for you, he's been trying to track you down for 2 years. He got your location last year but decided to respect your wishes and not contact you. He said he's fine with atleast knowing you're okay."

"Who else knows about this place?"

"Jimin."

She nods, addressing their current issue: "So what's going on? What do you need?"

"Let me stay here a couple days."

"You're not telling me what happened."

Yoongi tosses his chopsticks on the table, rubbing a hand over his tired eyes. He sighs, his situation none too common.

"Someone paid multiple contracts to get me killed."

"What?" Y/n frowns. "You mean members of EX-DEUS are going after you? But you're one of their own...how did chairman Kim even approve those contracts?"

"You're behind with updates, Y/n. Taehyung's father is no longer chairman. He had an accident in january, he passed away."

"Then who is it?"

"Natasha."

"That snake? Taehyung should've become chairman, or atleast Namjoon."

"Apparently, Kim Manseok signed a document which automatically made his wife chairwoman when he died."

"She's crazy, she's going to ruin the company for money."

"She already did. By order of her authority, members of EX-DEUS are now aloud to target and kill each other if a contract is sent from a client. She's turning the organization in a fucking bloodbath."

. . .

a/n: thanks a lot for all the likes this story got, and all the reblogs, truely!

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