I'm Your Only Hope

Prophets and Police

"The shocking attack yesterday on BTS member Jung Hoseok, also known as Jhope, has left both fans and the industry in shock. A fan attempted to assault Jhope during a fanmeet and, in spite of heavy security, the attack was prevented by another fan."

The news announcer disappears as a clip plays of Ami leaping across the table. Ami smirks, leaning towards the screen. The clip ends as Ami twists the knife from her grip.

"The identity of this woman, who fans have lovingly labeled the Fairy Shield, has yet to be identified. In other news, the Tower bombing last month has-"

Ami clicks off the television, frowning.

Fairy Shield? Shield makes sense, but fairy? She blinks at her reflection on the black screen. Long black hair, porcelain skin, and dark eyes. A single mole above her lips. There's no question she's beautiful, but it's hardly otherworldly. Maybe it was a jab at her height. They couldn't outright call her the short shield because she saved their idol, so they used fairy instead.

She shakes her head. The nickname hardly matters. As long as it's forgotten tomorrow.

Tossing the remote onto the table, Ami stands, freezing mid-stretch when the doorbell rings.

She goes straight for it. There's only one person who knows where she's staying in South Korea, two if the police are better at finding people than she expected. That one person wouldn't visit without a warning, so it's likely the police. Which is quite impressive. And annoying. She usually tries to leave countries before ever dealing with the police.

People forget. Cops are paid not to.

When she swings the front door open, she's stunned to find it's neither of those options. Instead, it's Samuel Abrams, dressed in his signature linen cloak, with Sarah Hoffman in her signature black pants suit a foot behind. This strange apparition would be enough to shock anyone, but for Ami there's the added sensation of trepidation.

"What are you doing here," she blurts, reverting to their native Hebrew.

Samuel's head slightly inclines. Ami sighs and steps aside, letting both of them into her room. As they head for the living room, Ami takes a quick moment to gather her strength.

Prophets like Samuel very rarely leave their homes, even to visit the girl they raised from the age of two. Which makes this visit particularly unsettling. Despite being twenty-one, and having lived basically on her own since she was sixteen, Ami can't help feeling like a kid who got caught out after curfew.

When she joins them in the living room, both are standing mutely by the large glass balcony doors. The sight of Samuel in full robes and sandals juxtaposes strangely with the minimalist white and gold sharp lines of the modern room. Why he came all the way to Seoul without even attempting to blend in is beyond her. But then, he's a Prophet. It's not his job to blend in. It's his job to stay put and wait for orders.

"You'll need to extend your stay," Samuel says, turning as she enters the room. "The Mark is in danger."

Ami scoffs, moving towards a white metal stool beside the island. "Did you not see the news? That Mark has been tagged and released, Sammy."

Samuel eyes her strangely.

"-uel," she adds lamely.

"The incident yesterday wasn't his Death Event," Samuel continues. "It seems the attempt on his life only came about because of your interference."

"My-," Ami stops to take a settling breath. "The girl had a knife."

"We don't pretend to understand the will of men. We know only what God reveals. The Mark's life was not in danger yesterday, which means your involvement was the catalyst that caused the threat."