In night The rain had started gently—just a soft drizzle tapping against the windows—but by the time dinner was served, it had turned relentless. Heavy, persistent, echoing like a cruel memory in the back of Yn's mind.

Everyone sat around the long dining table. Plates clinked softly, the warm light casting gold glows across their tired faces. Annie’s soft giggles and innocent rambling filled the silence, her spoon dancing as she tried to make Jungkook laugh.

But Yn…

Yn hadn’t touched her food.

She sat still—unnaturally still—her shoulders slightly hunched, as if trying to disappear into herself. Her fingers were clenched so tightly around the spoon her knuckles had turned white. Her jaw tensed, twitching ever so slightly.

The sound of rain hitting the rooftop seemed to get louder.

It wasn’t just rain to her.

It was that night.

The night she almost—

The coldness of that night the helplessness crawling under her skin, the pounding in her ears, the spinning of the room, her own screams muffled by her mind’s refusal to remember—

It came back every time it rained.

She blinked rapidly, trying to ground herself.

But her breathing grew uneven.

Jimin, seated next to her, noticed first. He turned slightly, frowning.

“Yn… you okay?” he asked gently.

Her eyes snapped up, wide like she’d been caught doing something wrong.

All eyes turned to her—concerned, soft, waiting.

“I—” she stammered. “Y-Yeah. I’m… I’m okay.”

She tried to smile, but it was brittle, paper-thin.

Only Jungkook noticed the slight shake in her fingers when she reached for her water.

Only Jungkook saw how her eyes darted toward the windows—toward the storm.

He didn't speak.

But his jaw locked. His brows furrowed, gaze darkening just slightly as he studied her every micro-expression. His hand under the table curled into a fist.

He knew.

Maybe not everything. Not the details she’d hidden from all of them. But he knew something was wrong. And worse—he knew it wasn’t going away.

As Annie kept giggling, swinging her legs and asking Yoongi to pass more rice, the air grew heavier.

Jungkook leaned slightly back in his chair, eyes never leaving her.

She was fighting a battle no one could see.

But he would.

Even if she wouldn’t let him in…

He’d tear down every wall she had if that’s what it took to make her stop flinching when the rain fell.

Tonight wouldn’t be the last time the storm came.

But maybe… it could be the last time she faced it alone.

The rain fell like a symphony of sorrow—each drop crashing to the ground with the weight of a memory too painful to carry.

The mansion slept. Its lights dimmed, halls silent. Not a single whisper disturbed the night.

Except for her.

Yn tossed and turned, drenched in sweat and regret beneath her blanket, the sound of thunder cracking like the echo of screams in her mind. No matter how tightly she clutched the sheets, she couldn’t bury the past. Couldn’t silence it. Couldn’t forget it.

Her parents’ blood-soaked faces.

Their screams.

Their eyes begging her to run.

The monsters who didn’t just take their lives—but tore hers apart.

Her body trembled, chest tightening until she could barely breathe. She sat up sharply, gasping for air, clawing at her chest like she could rip the pain out of herself.

“You're strong,” her mind screamed.

“You’ve survived worse.”

“You’ve got to fight.”

But she didn’t want to fight.

Not tonight.

She wanted to feel nothing.

So she ran.

Down the stairs barefoot, her breath hitching. Past the silent corridors. Out into the open grounds, where the storm welcomed her like a curse. Rain soaked her hair, her clothes clung to her skin like a second layer of memory.

And then she ran.

Like the pain could be left behind if she just moved fast enough.

Like the ghosts wouldn’t catch up to her if she outran the storm.

She ran until her lungs burned.

Until her legs gave up.

Until the weight in her chest became unbearable.

The pain wasn’t just from the loss—it was the regret.

The guilt.

The scream buried in her throat ever since that night.

“I should’ve died with them.”

She whispered it to the sky.

“I should’ve—”

Her knees buckled, breath a choked sob. Her vision blurred, the world spinning.

And just before the ground could greet her with its cold, merciless arms—

Two strong ones caught her.

Wrapped around her like a barrier between her and the darkness.

“I got you.”

His voice wasn’t cold this time.

It wasn’t laced with command or steel.

It was broken, quiet, and furious—not at her, but at the world that made her feel like this.

Jungkook’s arms pulled her tightly into his chest, one hand holding her head, the other wrapped around her waist as if she might disappear if he let go.

She trembled in his grip, fists clutching the front of his shirt, too weak to cry, too numb to feel.

He didn’t say anything more.

He just held her—in the pouring rain, in the dead of night, in the silence that followed a scream no one had heard but him.

And for the first time since that night

She didn’t fall alone.

The storm howled outside like a wounded beast. Lightning cracked the sky, briefly illuminating the darkened corners of the mansion. Inside Jungkook’s office, the only light came from the desk lamp, casting a pale glow over scattered files, blueprints, and the soft hum of surveillance footage playing on silent monitors.

Jungkook sat behind the desk, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, jaw tight as he flipped through classified intel. Another mission. Another trail of blood. He ran his hand through his hair, his fingers brushing the faint scar near his temple.

He hadn't slept properly in days—not since that night.

Not since he saw her like that.

Bruised. Drugged. Broken—but still on fire.

He could still hear her scream:

“DON’T TOUCH ME!”

The sound replayed in his skull like a haunting melody.

Just as he reached for his pen to scribble a code, his eyes flicked to the window—and froze.

There she was.

Yn.

Outside. In the rain. Drenched. Her head tilted toward the sky like she was asking it to kill her.

His heart stopped.

“What the fuck—” he whispered, shoving the chair back as he stood abruptly.

He darted to the window, his breath fogging the glass.

She wasn’t just standing there.

She was running.

Barefoot. No coat. No guard. No sense of protection.

Like she wanted the storm to swallow her whole.

Without thinking, Jungkook spun on his heel and bolted from the office.

He stormed down the hallway, ignoring the startled look of a passing guard.

“Open the fucking doors!” he barked, and before they could react, he shoved them wide himself, dashing out into the cold.

Rain battered his face, soaking him to the bone in seconds.

His shoes hit the pavement hard, splashing through puddles as his eyes scanned the shadows.

Then he saw her.

Collapsing mid-run.

Her knees buckled, body limp, arms barely rising to brace the fall.

“YN!” he shouted.

He reached her just before the ground did.

Her body fell against his chest like a doll, small and fragile, the fabric of her soaked clothes clinging to him. Her breathing was ragged, skin cold like ice.

“Fuck... fuck, no. Come on, look at me,” he whispered, brushing her wet hair from her face.

Her eyes fluttered once—then shut.

Her lips trembled.

And then she went still.

“Don’t close your eyes,” he murmured, voice breaking as he lifted her in his arms.

Not her. Not now.

Not after everything.

His jaw clenched, fury burning in his chest—not at her. Never at her. At the storm, at fate, at himself for not noticing sooner.

He carried her past the wide-eyed members who rushed to him with questions and panic—but he didn’t answer.

Jungkook only looked straight ahead.

Only one thing mattered now.

Yn.

The girl who shattered skulls like glass. The girl who laughed once, just once, with Annie. The girl who made him feel something in a world made of death.

And now, lying unconscious in his arms—

She looked like that broken little girl again.

But not for long.

He’d make sure of it.

He whispered under his breath, pressing his forehead to hers for a single, fleeting second.

“You’re not falling again. Not while I’m here.”

The soft light in the room glowed against the walls, flickering slightly from the wind rattling outside. Rain still tapped gently on the windows as if the storm hadn’t yet passed. The atmosphere was heavy—with worry, with silence, and with a sharp tension none of them could shake.

Yn lay motionless on the bed, her face pale, soaked hair clinging to her forehead. Her chest rose and fell in short, uneven breaths, and her skin burned with fever.

Jungkook stood beside her, shirt clinging wetly to his back, jaw tight. His eyes were fixed on her face with an expression that looked dangerously close to fear.

Jin entered hurriedly, medical kit in hand. Without asking anything, he moved beside Jungkook, checking her vitals.

“She’s burning up,” Jin muttered, pressing the back of his hand to her neck. “Was she outside long?”

“I don’t know how long,” Jungkook said, voice low and gravelly. “I saw her through the window—she was already running.”

Jin clicked his tongue, grabbing a vial. “She’s dehydrated. Panic attack mixed with exhaustion and exposure.” He injected her arm with practiced speed. “She needs rest. Watch for her breathing to stabilize. If it doesn’t, call me immediately.”

“Her clothes are soaked. She’ll catch pneumonia,” Jin added, eyes flicking up to Jungkook. “She needs to be changed.”

Jungkook nodded once, then turned to a maid waiting just outside the door. “You—go change her into something dry. Carefully. And don’t leave her side until I say so.”

The maid bowed and entered quietly.

At that moment, the rest of the members slowly filtered into the doorway, eyes wide and faces etched with concern. Taehyung, Jimin, Namjoon, Hoseok, Suga… they stood quietly, watching as Jin dabbed a cold cloth on her forehead.

The tension cracked when Yoongi stepped forward, voice unusually soft.

“What happened to her?” he asked. “Why was she outside in the damn rain like that?”

All eyes turned to Jungkook.

He let out a slow, frustrated breath, running a hand through his still-wet hair.

“I don’t know,” he admitted.

“She was just… running.”

That silence again. Heavy. Confused.

They all stared at her—this fierce, cold woman they had watched beat men into pulp, joke (awkwardly) with them, protect Annie like a shield, stand unshaken before blood and death. And now she lay there… vulnerable.

Hoseok folded his arms. “She looked terrified.”

Namjoon’s brow furrowed. “You don’t think it’s because of that bastard Jake, do you? Something triggering her again?”

“She never told us anything,” Jimin murmured. “She keeps it all in.”

Yoongi glanced back toward her. “Whatever it is… it’s eating her alive.”

Jin finally pulled the blanket over her, sighing. “She’s asleep for now. Let her rest.”

Jungkook turned toward the group, voice firm now. “You all can go.”

They didn’t move.

“I said,” he repeated, more gently this time, “you can go.”

They exchanged glances, uncertain.

“Jungkook…” Yoongi began again, but then stopped.

He saw it—the clench in Jungkook’s jaw, the way his hand hovered just beside Yn’s without touching it. The guilt burning in his eyes.

The others quietly filed out. Jin was last to leave.

He paused at the door and looked back. “You should stay with her. She might wake up disoriented.”

“I’m not leaving,” Jungkook said softly, already pulling a chair closer to the bed.

Jin nodded, then disappeared into the hallway.

Now, alone in the room with only the rain whispering against the windows, Jungkook leaned forward and finally let his fingers brush against her knuckles.

“What happened to you out there?” he whispered, voice cracking just slightly.

But she didn’t answer.

Only her shallow breaths filled the room.

And Jungkook sat there, watching her, the storm within him louder than the one outside.

The rain had stopped. The sun peeked through the half-open curtains, casting warm golden lines across the room. Birds chirped faintly in the distance. But inside, the air was still, thick with a silent kind of weight.

Yn’s eyes fluttered open slowly. Her lids were heavy, and her body ached in the worst way—emotionally, physically. For a brief second, she didn’t remember anything. Then her gaze shifted…

Jungkook.

He was beside her, head tilted slightly, sleeping with his hand gently wrapped around hers. His other arm rested across the bed near her side, protecting her even in sleep.

And suddenly, like floodgates ripped open, it all came back—the rain, the panic, her breathlessness, the guilt, the regret of surviving when her parents hadn’t. The flashes of blood and screams.

Frustration surged in her chest. She carefully pulled her hand from his, and his brows furrowed in sleep.

But he sensed it. His eyes shot open.

“You okay?” he asked quickly, voice thick with worry. He reached out, touching her forehead.

She flinched subtly at the contact. But he didn’t react.

“Your fever’s gone… good,” he said with relief, his voice soft, almost like he was talking to glass.

She didn’t answer.

Without a word, she pushed the blanket aside and stood up. Her legs wobbled slightly, but she walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

Jungkook let out a long sigh, running his hands through his hair.

“She’s going to pretend she’s fine…” he muttered. And then, reluctantly, he stepped out of the room.

The members were gathered in the gym, casually chatting or stretching. When the sound of footsteps echoed from the hall, they all looked up—and froze.

Yn stepped in, dressed in her usual training gear, her expression blank but her eyes... heavy. Dark.

Jin stood up immediately, concern painting his face.

“Yn. Your health’s not okay. Don’t do this today,” he said gently.

“I’m fine,” she replied flatly.

Yoongi moved next, placing himself directly in front of her.

“Go rest. Don’t be stubborn,” he said, calm but firm.

She stared past him, jaw clenched. “I said I’m fine. I don’t need rest.”

She moved to walk past, but suddenly—

Her feet lifted off the ground.

“What the hell—Jungkook!” she yelled.

Jungkook had picked her up—effortlessly, securely.

“Today is off,” he said without emotion, “No one’s working out. Especially not you.”

He carried her to the dining table like she weighed nothing, her fists pounding against his chest, her face flushing with a mix of fury and embarrassment.

“Put me down! Leave me, Jungkook!” she yelled, struggling in his arms.

He calmly set her down on a chair.

But the second her feet touched the floor, she stood up again, fists clenched, breath shaky.

“Stop pitying me!” she screamed, voice sharp and raw.

The room fell dead silent.

Everyone stared.

Jungkook’s expression froze.

Namjoon took a careful step forward. “We’re not pitying you. We care for you.”

She snapped her head toward him, eyes burning.

“AND WHO ARE YOU TO CARE?!”

Silence again.

Jungkook’s jaw clenched.

“Voice down, Yn.” His voice was low, but there was warning laced in it.

“Why?! I told you before—I have my own demons. My own battles. I never asked anyone to fight them for me!” her voice cracked with emotion. “Don’t pretend like you understand!”

Jin stepped forward, voice softer. “We’re not pretending. We just want to make sure you’re—”

“DID I ASK YOU TO?!” she shouted, nearly in tears now. “Don’t play some great protector role! I don’t need your care! I don’t need your pity! JUST STOP—PLEASE!!”

The members flinched at the rawness in her scream.

Her eyes were wild, her chest rising and falling as if she couldn’t breathe.

“YN!” Jungkook shouted this time, slamming his palm on the table.

The sound echoed.

Everyone froze again.

His tone dropped, deep and cold. “Behave.”

The weight of that word crushed the room.

Her lips trembled.

But she didn’t say anything.

No one did.

The air was suffocating.

Jungkook stepped closer, voice softer this time—but still firm.

“We're not here to pity you. We're here because we give a damn. And whether you like it or not, that’s not going to change.”

Yn's eyes glistened, but she turned her face away.

Her demons had come roaring to the surface.

But now… she wasn’t facing them alone.

Even if she tried to push everyone away—they weren’t backing down.

Not this time.

The air had already been heavy, suffocating with the aftermath of Yn’s breakdown, but now—

Now it felt like a war zone.

A bomb waiting to go off.

The tension crackled like static as she stood at the center, wet strands of hair sticking to her cheek, fury burning behind her eyes.

Her voice was like venom, sharp, cold, and deliberate.

“You all are no one to me. I don’t care what you do. Just don’t expect anything from me.”

Her words sliced the air.

Each of them froze.

They didn’t flinch because they feared her—but because they understood her. Those words weren’t hers.

They were her demons talking—rage, trauma, and abandonment dressed in her skin.

Still, the silence was deafening.

She turned sharply, locking her eyes onto Jungkook.

“It was just a deal, wasn’t it?” she snapped.

“You laid your conditions. I laid mine. Now stick to them.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched so tight it looked like it might crack. A muscle ticked at his temple, eyes flaring as the fire in him ignited.

“And as per that deal,” she added, stepping forward, voice lowering like a blade being drawn, “I’ll do what you say. Fine. Then here’s what I say—stay out of my goddamn way.”

He stepped forward too, their faces inches apart.

“You don’t get to decide that,” he growled. “And I told you—today, you’re not doing anything. No training. No fights. Nothing.”

“You’re no one to make that decision.”

Their words clashed like steel.

Fire meeting fire.

Neither backing down.

And then—

Annie.

Her tiny figure stood in the hallway, eyes wide and shimmering, lips trembling.

She had heard everything.

Yn froze.

For a moment, it was like a mirror—Annie's little figure was what Yn used to be once.

Small. Scared. Confused. Broken.

But something twisted inside her. It wasn’t empathy.

It was her rage turning toward something innocent. Something soft.

She stepped toward Annie, voice dipped in ice.

“Stop crying like a weak person.”

Her tone was cutting. Cruel. A defense mechanism sharp enough to wound.

“YN!!!”

Jungkook’s voice roared through the hall like thunder.

In an instant, he was there—his hand snatching her wrist mid-step, yanking her closer so fast she gasped.

He held her there, his grip steel, furious, trembling with restraint.

“Don’t you dare say another fucking word to her,” he snarled.

His voice—lethal.

His eyes—dark.

His presence—uncontainable.

His grip tightened around her wrist, and she knew it would leave a mark—but this time, she didn’t fight it.

Jimin quickly moved, scooping Annie in his arms and rushing her out of the hallway, shielding her from the wreckage.

Jungkook’s face was so close now, she could feel the heat of his breath, the fury vibrating from his chest.

“She’s not weak,” he spat.

“You are.”

Yn’s eyes blinked, stunned.

“She let go of her pain. Her grief. She laughs. Smiles. Loves. She’s braver than all of us. Than you.”

“And you?” he hissed, eyes narrowing.

“You hold on to the past like a noose, letting it strangle every damn part of you. Your heart. Your soul. You’re not strong, Yn. You’re not even healing. You’re just... surviving. Existing. Hollow. A fucking ghost clinging to rage.”

His words were harsh.

His words were true.

And then—

“Just another mon—”

“JUNGKOOK!! Enough!!”

Yoongi’s voice sliced through the storm.

Jungkook stopped. Chest heaving. Jaw tight. Veins popped in his neck, his fists clenched at his sides. His control hung by a thread.

And Yn?

She just stood there.

Still.

Breath shallow.

Her wrist trembling in his grip.

But her face—

Blank.

Emotionless.

Like someone had yanked the last piece of soul from her chest.

Silence fell over the hall again.

A deadly, aching silence.

Jungkook stared at her for a long moment, and then… slowly, he let go of her wrist. His hand hovered there like he wanted to reach out again, but he didn’t.

He stepped back.

And Yn?

She turned, walking away with heavy steps.

No rage now.

No fire.

Just quiet—

Just numbness.

And as she disappeared around the corner, Jungkook finally whispered, barely loud enough for anyone to hear:

“You’re not a monster… but you’re breaking like one.”

And everyone knew…

This was not just war with the world.

It was war within herself.

To be continued...