The mansion was unusually quiet—no bickering, no shouting, no pounding footsteps. Everyone had stepped out on a mission.

Except J-Hope, who sat with a cup of coffee and soft music echoing through the hall. The serenity was broken by the shrill ring of YN’s phone on the table.

She answered it—and her face changed.

“What?” she whispered, gripping the phone tighter.

“A fire... at Mrs. Kang’s house...?”

Before J-Hope could ask what was wrong, YN was already gone—bolting out the gate, not even stopping for shoes or jacket.

The sky above glowed orange and black. The smell of burning wood, plastic, and death choked the air.

Mrs. Kang’s house was an inferno.

“NO!” YN screamed, her boots crunching through the shattered glass. “NO, NO, NO!”

The flames kissed the sides of her coat as she broke through the half-collapsed doorway.

“AUNTY!” she shouted, coughing against the thick smoke. “ANSWER ME!”

The house groaned. Ceiling beams cracked and fell. Her heart pounded against her ribs. Her eyes burned. Panic clawed at her throat.

She couldn't lose her too. Not again.

Then—

A sound. Faint. A voice.

She turned sharply and ran toward it.

In the corner of the hallway—through fire and smoke—she saw it.

A man. Masked. Tall. Holding a blade.

And under him—Mrs. Kang, bloodied and gasping.

“NO!” YN shrieked, her legs moving before her mind.

But her body... froze.

The blood dripping. The knife rising. The way her aunt’s eyes stared into nothing.

Just like her parents.

The memories slammed into her. Her screams. Her father’s lifeless eyes. Her mother’s broken gasp. The smell of blood. Fire. Terror.

She was that girl again—helpless. Small.

But this time...

Something snapped.

“I’ll kill you!” she screamed and lunged.

Her fists collided with the man’s body. He fought back. The two of them crashed through flaming debris, rolling across the burning floor. She didn't care. Her skin burned. Her lungs screamed. But she fought.

A punch. A knife slash grazing her arm. A kick to her ribs.

But she didn’t stop.

Then—she grabbed his mask.

And ripped it off.

Her breath hitched.

A jagged scar across his face.

A tattoo on his wrist.

The man who murdered her parents.

“You...” her voice cracked.

“You... bastard!”

He smirked, sick and cruel.

Then—he kicked her back and ran.

But YN didn’t chase.

Because...

“Aunty?”

She turned, stumbling toward Mrs. Kang. Blood soaked her body. Her breath was faint.

“Please… stay with me. Please…” YN whispered, kneeling beside her.

“I—I found him. I found the man,” she sobbed, trying to lift her. “Please, don’t go. I can’t—don’t leave me too—”

Mrs. Kang’s hand trembled in hers.

“You’re… strong now… YN,” she whispered faintly. “Don’t stop… now...”

And then—

Nothing.

Her aunt’s hand fell limp.

And the world spun.

The fire blurred. Her lungs couldn’t breathe. Her mind fogged. Her heart broke. Her body collapsed.

Everything went dark.

The room was quiet. Too quiet.

The scent of antiseptic still lingered faintly in the air.

Her chest rose slowly… then sharply.

Suddenly—her eyes flew open, and her scream tore through the mansion like a blade through silence.

“NO! NO—MRS. KANG!”

“NOOOO!!”

She thrashed on the bed, eyes wide, chest heaving. Panic clouded her vision. The fire. The blood. Her aunt's lifeless body.

That man’s voice still crawling in her ear.

“I should’ve saved her! I should’ve—I should’ve been faster—”

Her voice broke into sobs. Gut-wrenching sobs that left everyone frozen.

Jungkook bolted toward her and grabbed her shoulders, trying to still her.

“YN. Look at me. Look at me—breathe!”

She couldn’t. She couldn’t breathe. Her fingers clawed at the bed sheets as she choked on her cries. Her body curled like a child’s as her sobs turned to tremors. Like her lungs were collapsing under the grief.

Jin ran to get water.

Namjoon checked her pulse.

Suga was pale, his jaw tight as he whispered,

“I’ve never seen her cry before... not like this.”

And then…

A tiny gasp.

Annie, standing in the doorway with her teddy bear, her eyes wide and filled with fear. She had never seen YN like this—the one who was always strong, always calm, always quiet and in control—now looked like a shattered girl on the brink of falling apart completely.

“Unnie...?” she whispered, voice trembling.

That whisper broke something deeper.

YN’s eyes met Annie’s—and she crumbled. She turned away, her hands covering her face.

“I’m sorry—I’m sorry—don’t look at me—I’m so sorry…”

Jungkook couldn’t hold back anymore. He sat beside her, pulling her against him. She didn’t resist. She cried into his chest—raw, unfiltered, no walls left.

“She was all I had,” she sobbed.

“She tried to be enough, even when she wasn’t my mom. And I was never enough either. I always messed up. I couldn’t save her—just like I couldn’t save them.”

“I’m cursed, Jungkook. Everyone I love dies—everyone.”

He clenched his jaw, closing his eyes, trying not to show how much her words hurt.

“No,” he said firmly. “No one blames you. Not her. Not anyone. You did everything you could.”

“You're not cursed,” Jin added from the doorway, eyes glassy. “You're just... hurting.”

Jimin came forward, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“You don't have to hide it from us anymore.”

Taehyung gently placed Annie beside her. The little girl crawled over and hugged her waist tightly.

“You’re my hero, Unnie,” she whispered. “Even heroes cry.”

YN’s body slowly stopped shaking, but the tears kept falling silently. One after another.

For the first time, she wasn’t pushing them away.

She let them hold her.

She let herself fall apart.

She let them see her—not the fighter, not the weapon—just a broken girl who lost everything again.

And in that storm of grief—

they didn’t leave.

They stayed.

All night.

They kept her from drowning.

The room was quiet again, but this time… different.

YN sat on the edge of the bed, her eyes hollow, a cold damp towel around her neck, and Annie curled beside her, still half-asleep but refusing to leave her side.

The boys were all around the room—tense, quiet, waiting.

Jungkook stood leaning against the window, his arms crossed, his eyes never leaving her.

Finally, her voice cracked through the silence—low, rough, like it had scraped its way out of her throat.

“He was there.”

Everyone turned.

She looked up slowly, eyes bloodshot but sharp now—focused.

“The man who killed my parents. He was in the fire… with her.”

“What…?” Namjoon stepped forward, brows furrowed.

“He stabbed her.”

Her voice trembled slightly but didn’t break this time.

“I tried to stop him. I fought him. And then—before he ran…”

Her hands balled into fists.

“He whispered in my ear… ‘Before you find us, I’ll find you—and kill you just like your parents.’”

A chilling silence fell.

“He has a scar on his face. And a tattoo. Same one… on his wrist.”

She touched her own wrist unconsciously.

“It’s real. It’s him.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenched. Hard.

“The cut on his face,” he muttered. “He survived the Wolf Syndicate purge…”

“He’s not just some pawn,” Yoongi added, his tone low and dangerous. “He’s part of something bigger. Maybe what you’ve been sensing all along.”

Jin looked shaken.

“So… her aunt was targeted.”

“He said us,” Taehyung echoed. “He’s not working alone.”

Jungkook took a step forward. His voice calm but cold like steel.

“You’re not going after him alone, YN.”

Her eyes lifted to his, a defiant glint flickering beneath the grief.

“I’m not asking for permission.”

“Good.” He nodded. “Because you’re not getting it. You’re getting backup.”

There was a quiet agreement in the air. Heavy. Unbreakable.

This wasn’t just about revenge anymore.

This was personal—for all of them now.

Jungkook’s voice broke through the stillness one more time:

“I want everyone ready. No mistakes. We’re going to burn his world down…”

Then he turned back to YN, his voice softer—just for her.

“You gave us a name. Now let us give you justice.”

And for once…

She didn’t argue.

She just nodded.

Because now she had them.

And that bastard had no idea what was coming.

The sky matched their grief—gray, heavy, and still.

Clouds hovered like they were mourning too, holding back tears that threatened to fall.

The cemetery was quiet.

A small gathering stood in black, surrounded by wilted trees and distant hills. The boys flanked YN—Jungkook by her side, Namjoon and Jin close behind. Annie clutched Jimin’s hand tightly, not fully understanding, but sensing something was very wrong.

The coffin was plain—just the way Mrs. Kang would’ve wanted. Simple. Silent. Sincere.

But YN hadn’t moved.

She stood frozen, her face unreadable. She wore black like the rest, her arms crossed tightly over her stomach, as if holding herself together.

The priest’s voice was faint in the wind:

“...she was a woman of kindness, strength, and fierce loyalty. A guardian to one, a mother in heart. May she rest in peace.”

When the time came to lay down flowers…

Everyone stepped forward.

Jin placed a white lily.

Taehyung bowed silently, eyes dim.

Yoongi simply looked at the grave, said nothing, then turned away.

Then came YN.

She walked slowly, like each step was against the weight of the world.

In her hand…

A crumpled, half-burnt letter.

Something Mrs. Kang had written to her long ago but never sent.

She knelt down by the coffin, fingers trembling as she placed it gently on top.

And then, finally, she whispered, voice cracking:

“I’m sorry I never said it before... but you were my mother. You were all I had.”

She tried to breathe, but it broke into a quiet sob.

“You didn’t deserve this. You didn’t deserve to die like this—burned, alone, terrified.”

Her knuckles turned white from clenching the soil.

“I’ll find him. I’ll find all of them. And I swear on your grave, I will end this. I’ll end them.”

She placed her forehead against the coffin, just for a moment. Letting it all go.

And then…

Jungkook stepped forward.

He didn’t say anything. Just crouched down next to her and gently placed his hand on her back.

“You don’t have to carry all of this alone anymore,” he said quietly. “We’re with you. Every step.”

When she turned to look at him, eyes red and full of fire and pain—

He didn’t flinch.

He saw her. All of her.

And he didn’t look away.

The funeral ended with silence. No long speeches. No dramatic music.

Just the sound of dirt falling over the coffin.

And the cold wind that whispered goodbye.

The Day After the Funeral-

The mansion was still.

Not silent—but still.

As if the air itself was afraid to breathe too loud, afraid to knock against her door.

YN hadn’t spoken a word since the funeral.

She’d walked inside like a ghost—face expressionless, footsteps slow, and eyes dead quiet.

And then the door closed behind her.

Locked.

“Should we check on her?” Taehyung had asked, pacing the hall.

“No,” Jungkook replied after a pause, jaw tight. “Let her come to us.”

But none of them slept easy that night.

No sounds.

No lights.

No tears.

Just silence.

To be continued...