alien affairs // jjk X reader

21. Bleed

He screamed as if he would never scream again, he didn't care if his vocal cords would tear or snap. The pain of such action wouldn't have stopped him from the torturous screams that escaped his mouth. Lord Cheon's screams were not pitiful, they were war cries. Murder and fear mixed into a perfect harmony of a bone-chilling sound.

He did not have a son anymore.

And he wasn't even granted the courtesy of a body to bury.

This made it too easy, it made it all too easy.

He ran a gruff hand through his hair before eyeing the swords that were on display. He ran his hands along the blade, empty of feeling nor care of the possibility of being cut. He thought of the human, the half-breed and the White Wing in his camp... his hand tightened around it, causing crimson streaks to bloom along it.

He glanced over the telephone that sat on his desk, it lived as a curse but now seemed to be a gift.

He dialed 1.

---

[YN's POV]

Everyone seemed to cope differently. Byul and Taehyung went into their tent the day you had returned and hadn't been seen since. Jimin had stayed in the training room, rumoring to train everyday until his knuckles bled, and body crumbled onto the mats with exhaustion. Namjoon stayed silent and diligent in the enclave that was his lab. Jin cried. Everyday. Hobi... refused to smile, a line between a frown and a cry forever etched onto his mouth.

Lord Cheon... had been missing for weeks.

Jungkook. Was the only normal one. Jungkook seemed to be the only one unfazed. Jungkook was the only one that kept up routine.

He had pulled the camp out of the dust after a week of mourning, he gave each soldier a set of tasks due at the end of the week. Allowing them time to complete them in their own time. Cheonkookers, by nature, did not have many friends. They did not form close bonds nor develop feelings of companionship or loyalty easily. But Yoongi was a leader. He was one of the Elite 7, he was beloved.

And his loss vibrated throughout the camp.

But Jungkook wouldn't allow the camp to crumble by his death. He forced himself to smile and train, he forced others to eat and learn. Jungkook forced himself to become a leader, to become resistant to the grief that clouded everyone else's psyche. He pretended to be fine, everyone could tell. His smiles were stiff, and his jokes forced, but no one intervened. No one asked if he was fine.

Because Jungkook was a general, a leader, and they were in desperate need of one to regroup.

And Jungkook seemed to be the only one who knew what Yoongi's death symbolized. Yoongi was a casualty.

The first one. And being the first, he was the most important one. He was the first soldier to die on front lines, Cheonkooker or human, he was the first to die from a direct cause of the war. It meant that it was real. His death meant that the war was real. That the humans meant war, that they were willing to kill Cheonkookers in this war. It was a message of willingness and power: if they were willing to kill one, what would keep them from wiping out the whole race?

Nothing.

Unrestrained.

You could only stand by and watch, a weak human that could do nothing but watch as your lover was forcing himself to be a pillar on a house of cards with no foundation. The cards were flying, and you were too small to reach them, too weak to become a pillar.

And even then, there were cracks inside him. There would be moments when you woke up in the middle of the night and he wouldn't be in bed. He would be outside, sitting beside the ship for hours before coming back. His tears were silent, you didn't ask questions.